Long Scalp Poems
Long Scalp Poems. Below are the most popular long Scalp by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Scalp poems by poem length and keyword.
Well, you asked for it so here goes!
I'm five-feet, eight inches tall from scalp to toes.
Born October 1930 in Indiana - so there, I've revealed my age.
I'm blessed with great health even at this elder stage.
Happily married to my dear Vera for 62 wonderful years,
And we've met life's vicissitudes with laughter and some tears.
Two daughters Leanna and Leslie but, alas, lost Mark, our boy.
Through the years they've brought Vera and me so much joy!
I'm blessed with 6 grandchildren and 4 great grands.
(I hope to stick around for more as my family expands.)
Enlisted at age 17 in the Air Force in 1948 retiring in 1978.
Assigned to Morocco, Germany and Japan which was great!
I 'fought' the Korean War in Bermuda dodging sea shells.
Met Vera in Bermuda and in Texas we rang those wedding bells!
Retired as a Chief Master Sergeant, the top Air Force enlisted grade.
'Twas a challenging, exciting life and I'm sure glad that I stayed.
While in the Air Force I earned a degree in Justice Administration,
And upon Air Force retirement became a Colorado Bailiff for my vocation.
I like folks who keep their word, are punctual and I don't suffer jerks gladly!
Me and the Lord are working on this but I have very little patience, sadly.
I love God, family and nation and enjoy writing poetry and even though,
I've penned nearly 1200, alas, as a bard I've made very little dough!
I like steak and taters and a sip of Beringers White Zinfindel now and then,
And going to Cripple Creek to play the one-armed bandit when I can.
Sorry if I bored you but once I began writing the words just seemed to flow.
Now, you probably know more about me than you ever wanted to know!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) 2014 All Rights Reserved
Entry for Regina Riddle's "Bio Poem" Contest
The soul shatters upon death. Sentience fractures into a million variables that swirl chaotically into piercing eyes that melt into the color sadness, spinning into galaxies that shrink to the size of ants and you twirl in a blender of being for eternities until finally, at long last, something sticks. Perhaps it may be as simple as a strand of hair, nonetheless all possibility spins around it, flashing contradictions of rainbow transparencies, empty solids and polka dotted space, continuing until a second hair joins the first, clutching to the nothingness and refusing to move. Soon thousands of hairs arrive and synchronize above a scalp unto a face, torso, limbs… materializing ever faster… and at once you are born. And just as the memory of your trial and error experimentation and prior life evaporate, you embrace the arms of a stranger, gazing into her eyes, hung between this world and the next… sobbing in a fit of omniscience, in awe of your hard earned shape.
Jacob Reinhardt
10/15/2013
The way, in which I lived, so shall I die?
The sea salt washes up against rocks
and bleach the stones white
Like a genuine pearly stone. That when I knew
Someone was mourning a death.
The party was going strong
The doorbell rang. In that moment
Everything changes.
Speak low, lean low
Turn down the tempo
A sudden death; another wealthy mortal man
Took his last breathe.
Did he pass the test?
Bending over and sniffing the coke
By the mountain load;
Cocaine scattered all over the desk. Money burnt
How you lived, so shall you die?
Why cry. That was your life.
He became the cocaine and
His mind became retarded
The salty breeze massages my scalp
As they soul jump into to the sea
longing to be cleanses
Speaking low, leaning low their noses
Are on fire: another lost soul
Bolivian marching powder
Drip, drip drops of blood
Vanish out to sea.
a different kind of philosophy
The Devil philosophy
My naked feet feel the slick, moist grass in the quiet park
as my fingers pluck and trace the soft edges of a flower petal.
My back is pricked as I lean against a spiked, tree trunk
while my hand swipes off a sticky, delicate cobweb from my face.
As I pull off the cobwebs, tree sap drops onto my hair
penetrating my scalp, and I attempt to pull off it's gooey sap.
Suddenly, I feel the thick, sandpaper lick of a dog's tongue
on my cheek, and I laugh, petting his fluffy fur with pleasure.
Written on 8/31/2015
they sit him down like a tired old man
in that throne of leather and iron—
old sparky, they called it,
like it was some friendly dog.
they strap the wrists, ankles, chest,
tight enough to stop god himself—
one last insult to liberty.
the sponge is wet, because dry
means fire, and lawsuits.
the mask goes on—black as every sin,
but it’s the switch they love.
fingers twitch, a nod from a judge
who’s eaten too much for lunch.
then—crack.
a snap of light no eye can see.
his body lifts like a puppet on strings
jerks, clenches, convulses,
the legs slam the frame,
his tongue thick in his mouth.
smoke rises from scalp and thigh—
a scent like roast beef
and shame.
they wait.
they juice him again.
and again,
until he stops pretending to be alive,
smoke wafts from every orfice in her body.
After most recent shower,
and particularly washing hair
(then shaking head
analogous to sopping wet dog
drying her/himself after a bath),
I immediately said helloo
to Long lasting fragrance Suave
essentials Daily Clarifying
Deep cleansing Shampoo,
which permeated mine scalp
facilitating healthy follicles.
More so frothy lather upon noggin
after getting rinsed out
yielded bounteous, luscious, luxurious,
and marvelous full bodied tresses
reminiscent when yours truly an adolescent,
a veritable long haired pencil necked geek
whose hirsute trademark
still characterizes atypical sexagenarian
above mentioned characteristic
still (after scores of years)
emblematic of this enigmatic poetaster.
Ever since being in utero
soon after seminal fusion
insync with fallopian tube bearing ova
begot zygote courtesy said gametes,
and engendered silent boom
after piercing zona pellucida
creating microscopic flume,
nevertheless collection of cells
coalescing into embryo
eventually manifesting into yours truly,
I painstakingly took minuscule
comb and brush to groom,
and dreaded most fearfully being locked,
where pair of outsize scissors did loom
threatening to cut thick,
what could best be envisioned analogous
to imperceptible fancy plume
hich features specific feature
drew medical community
(i.e. namely human reproductive specialists)
constituted extensive expanse
within blastocyst very limited room
crowd sourcing out rivaling curious onlookers
formerly geared up
to espy King Tutankhamun's tomb
can you dear reader believe
a hairy globule within the womb
became global attraction
viz - of a young fecund Harriet Harris,
cuz about nine months later
out the birth canal I did zoom.
Daybreak dangled in foggy strips.
Mizzle had mugged the day,
grey-flecked cuckoo spit
smuggled summer under hoary roots.
Bill formed an Indian gang
to snatch the light back.
Later, parting the scalp of a hedge
we saw the sun
tangled in an old hawthorn.
Meg, (Bill’s sister),
wanted to shin-up and dislodge it.
There was a chance
we would see her knickers
so we gave her a leg-up.
Her skinny limbs
snaked through the spiky twigs.
Half-way to the top
the sun cut loose, drifting
beyond her reach.
Meg whooped and almost fell.
We boys grinned as her bare legs
slide down onto our shoulders.
Bill looked at us
as if we were all crazy.
George W. Towne
1847 – 1899
From Iowa I came by restless wagon train.
From the mid-west I arrived
With satchel and silken scalp still intact.
I read Proverbs and Ecclesiastes to pass the time.
I read the Gospels of John and Luke.
I read Harriet Beecher Stowe and
I read John Greenleaf Whittier.
I saw the icy Rocky Mountains beckon me to the west
Waving their invisible fluid fingers
Like blond ballerinas in silent ever-moving tableaux.
I saw the railroad snake through the endless golden valleys.
And I saw the muddy roads converge
Under a hundred bee-infested pepper trees.
And it was here in this new colony I found a home
For my wife Fannie and our three dubious children.
You could always spot me in the distance,
Walking down Pickering Street.
For I was the dapper one in black derby hat
Taking the cash in the Greenleaf Avenue millinery.
I was the suited one in dusty black,
Winking and bowing to the lovely ladies
Showing my respect but imagining something else
Deep within my empty searching soul.
I was the tall, cleanly shaven erudite
Who had memorized the entire Gospel of John
And walked the northern foothills at sunset
Wearing my ever-present derby hat
And meeting, yes,
Secretly meeting Lucy Swain
Under the tall cedar tree on Rideout Ranch.
Confession is indeed good for the soul.
Confession has always allowed a good but dishonest man to sleep soundly.
To sleep long languorous hours on a cold winter’s night.
To sleep for an eternity without guilt or regrets
Under the hardened forgotten dirt of Clark Cemetery.
For I was the handsome one in derby hat
And only Lucy and I knew,
Only she and I knew intimately
About the patch of soft carpet-like grass,
There under the tall silent cedar tree
On Rideout Ranch.
I had never been in a house before but about a week ago I fell onto a straw hat, and rode her into the house. The straw hat was not edible, so I tried to get comfortable in a small sewing box, but I kept running into pointy things after I burrowed in, and they hurt. Ouch!
Next I climbed up a green wall and sat in a glow-bulb. This bulb went from cool, to warm, to hot, to unbearably hot in a short amount of time, so I climbed out of the glow fixture and made a slow methodical climb down onto a bed where sat a cloth doll. She looked nice and cozy, but on first bite I knew this was not something I could latch onto and enjoy.
I soon discovered a yipping thing. My cousin had told me about dogs. It looked promising, but I knew I would have to wait until the yipping thing was asleep. I salivated as I thought about how tasty a dog is reported to be. It seemed to take hours for the dog to go to sleep. Delightfully tasty my cousin had said, but have you ever tried to take a bite of curly thick fur? After six tries I gave up.
A large snoring giant was next to the yippy thing. I had heard about giants, but I had never burrowed into one. It took me almost all night to go from the feet to the head. Once at the giant’s scalp, I burrowed in, and it was delightful. A taste of paradise. Shangri-La!
Luckily, I was not discovered for three glorious days; best vacation I ever had. A feast for the gods, and I could eat whenever I wanted until a few minutes ago when the giant did a tick check, and found me. I was promptly put onto a soft white fluffy thing. I am right now taking a raft ride down a swirling river. A fabulous week! I would recommend this to everybody!
Of Ghosts and Fiends in Twilight, Cont.
The battle was joined and I was the victor
But no spoils were I to partake of just yet
The daemon commander was still in my way
His face glowing red with rage, his ire set
“Thou mayest hath quick the Master’s servants dispersed,”
“All sad, soulless slaves without purpose or mind,”
The daemon roared and spit through a scowling grin,
“I shalt not be as inept a foe thee wilt find!
Suddenly I was lifted up off the ground
And hurled hard against the wall by unseen hands
Wolven Stave flew from my grip as I crashed to the floor
Sorely stunned, but unbroken I regained my stand
I searched for Wolven Stave and to my dismay
The black daemon held it in one big, filthy claw
“Thy fight is at an end!” he said with a sneer
“Thou brave knight is lost, an inglorious fall!”
Wolven Stave’s blue stone then began to glow red
“Thou knowest not of whom thou chastise, mayhaps!”
I shot back with a smile as Grey Bane broke free
Came down and cleaved the vile beast from scalp to chaps
The Daemon split fell a bloody heap on the stone
Wolven Stave with Grey Bane was restored to me
Victor this battle, but the war not yet won
The Dark Lord awaits, my Lady Wife I must free
But which path to take to seek his dark abode?
With calm mind to see with my heart where it would go
Soon I was visited by a vision strange
My Fair Gennifer surrounded by ice and snow
I decided to let my heart guide me on
Not sure of the meaning of what I had seen
No truer friend found than the heart true in love
To aid in my Lady’s release from the cruel fiend
I stepped over piles of dismembered flesh and bone
Towards a door I espied at the chambers far end
I brought my full weight to bear on the locked door
It broke loose and flung open, through and down I went