Long Shampoo Poems

Long Shampoo Poems. Below are the most popular long Shampoo by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shampoo poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member Three Score and Fifteen Years Ago

Three Score and Fifteen Years Ago
By Franklin Price
11/14/2020

Three score and fifteen years ago
I was born upon this earth
Joined a family of eight,
Was the ninth, for what it's worth

Four sisters and two brothers
A mother, father there for me
I was to be the last of them
That nevermore would be

Was brought home to my siblings
Who were shown I was a boy
They were told it was not Christmas
That I was not a little toy

Spread of ages, ten long years
 Stuart Taylor to begin
Then, Nancy Ruth and Shirley Lou
Stopping then, would be a sin

 Earl Joseph, Laura Gertrude
Were the next ones in the game
Judith Carol just before me
Franklin Arthur is my name

Brought home to Merritt Island
Yes,  the one of lunar lore
Was then a growing citrus place
Barely had a country store

We had no city water
No AC then, you know
No TV there for watching
Listened to the radio

Milk brought by the milkman
Port Canaveral had no cruise
Truman was the president
The local paper brought the news

Many years have gone by
Helped shoot man to the moon
My father and my mother gone
Some siblings, way to soon

Nancy Ruth and Laura Gertrude
And myself are still around
They're now octogenarians
Five more years and I'll be crowned 

My life has been exceptional
The best wife for fifty years
In seven days it's fifty-one
Can still remember that from here

Left High School in sixty four
Sixty- eight in Vietnam 
Sixty-nine sent man off to the moon
It's great to be the who I am

Married, November, sixty-nine
To my wife and daughter too
They were the rocks within my life
For the things that I would do

Involved with start up ventures
Traveled all around the globe
Collected hotel ashtrays
Lots of shampoo and a robe

Had my own small business
A little longer than a score
Rode on Harley cycles
Three hundred thousand miles and more

Rode all the lower forty-eight
Three provinces above
A thousand miles in Africa
All  of these with my true love

So you see it's been a great life
And I'm only seven- five
I got up this fine morning
It's still great to be alive

Friends and family, who read this
And know of these things I say
Know you helped to make it great
As I traveled on the way 

Here's a toast to all of us
And the passed days since our birth
I'm sending love to all of you
For all that may be worth
Form: Rhyme


January 24th, 2023 Hair Washing Heralds Huge Happening

January 24th, 2023 Hair washing heralds huge happening

Hark….the herald angels sing, and twitter 
for mass communication 
mediums stop the presses 
when I, a regular schlemiel 
take shampoo to mine matted mass mop 
(no less than once a week)
of straggly follicles, and commence 
to dispense with the heady eco system 
viz rare crop of flora and fauna 
(some rank as endangered species) 

rub and band together 
to scratch envy of  
flaky key neigh bring ponytails 
and create quite an niche, 
and where also can be found
lousy knit wit vendors ready to scalp 
and give shaft to razor sharp purveyors, 
who mane lee scout out available 
head and shoulder room to nap 

without a stir, tub bed down 
(praying  Holy Scott no wash out 
nor Harris mint occurs), 
or burrow vis a vis, 
where subcutaneous porous droplet size 
watership down pieces 
of prime residence found 
counting one mister comb lee 
bald bold faced realtor 

amidst competing rival 
bulb buss Edward scissorhands
(with knot to heavy a price toupee) 
affianced to rapunzel, 
whom he sheared split ends 
as her barber of civil, 
one dapper dander ruff dude to offer 
lice cent shuss insects a tonsured 
cut above other stylish habitués 

preferring to fraternize, 
glad-hand, and hobnob 
amidst a cluster of big wigs 
housed by yours truly - Samson
in gleaming puffy pompadour 
pads tightly secured 
with the best dreadlocks, 
which harum-scarum 
green barrettes serve 

as first line of rinse able defense 
IdentityGuard (with franchisee 
Bob O Link averse to split hairs, but fierce 
as a Mohawk and ring leader 
to protect any curl of mine) 
waving away intruders, 
who if insist tubby persistent 
and tangle with fate 
cannot expect camaraderie 

from buzz cutting crew i.e. the fuzz 
to give expletive filled lathering, 
severe shame poo wing subjugation 
plus an up braiding experience), 
and teach stragglers 
they will suffer 
a real perm in hint bang up job 
if they brazenly brush 
against brylcreem of the crop 
rooted as rightful heirs 
(hairs) of tousled doo mane,
thus concludes my tail. 

Postscript: Yours truly
an aging long haired
seventh generation pencil neck geek
finds ultra joy when 
volunteering for kitchen duty,
hence imagine the hypothetical picture
portraying Geico caveman 
mimicking pseudo dawn of humanity.

Premium Member 50's and 60's Weird Tv On Channel Three - Part 1

I think I must be seeing things
Before me stand the four of kings,
They shuffle when the Bishop brings
Annette upon nine raven wings

And Beanie rides a sea serpent
And wonders where the yellow went;
I go to pay the next day’s rent,
Where have they taken my new tent?

The bandstand kids look like Dick Clark,
Turn on the lights, I’m in the dark,
I’m standing in Grand Central Park,
A worm has caught a purple lark

And Kookie has run out of combs
So rents out rooms in old maid’s homes,
He has B.O. where ere he roams
So buys some spray and sells his tomes,

To your friend Ralph, yes you know who,
The one who should be in a zoo;
He sells used cars upon the tube
To each and every simple boob

And if he gives you stomach ache
Then Alkaseltzer’s what you take
And Bufferin too if you’re a rake,
Thus hath the Johnny Carson spake

Do I need a cigarette?
A camel says before me yet
‘yes, Luckys is the brand to get,
Be a he man, don’t you fret’
‘there must be worser ways to die
So buy brand X, give it a try’;

Just then another bird walks up
And asks me what I feed my pup
Then puts a nickel in my cup
And tells me I am full of crup


Of where I am, I’m unaware;
Why are the people all so square?
Who is standing over there?
He says he’s here to take my fare
But I’m not going anywhere,
Besides I feel my pockets bare

‘Well then I guess you must have paid’
At this I start to get afraid,
I think my mind will start to fade,
Then Hogen’s Heros make a raid,

Upon my sensibilities
And now it’s clear why each eye sees
So many people climbing trees;
It aint because of hungry fleas
	
As Tarzan swings upon a rope
I find I start to give up hope;
Jack Webb has started smoking dope
So now the crooks no longer mope

And Perry Mason kicks a judge
But finds the law will never budge
Unless big business gives a nudge
To Popeye selling ice cream fudge

At this I really have to rush
To our old john so I can flush
So far away this vacant mush
Before my teeth I start to brush

Then Josephine comes to my view
And says ‘I want to talk to you 
Have you scrubbed your sink anew?
Your mop I think needs some shampoo’

I said ‘I think you are the plumber
And no one else was ever dumber
You’ve put me on another bummer’
My feelings start to get much number

 continued in part 2>
Form: Rhyme

Most Imp Potent and Salient Playbook Page

Most imp potent and salient playbook page...
'bout fluffiness of hair after washing

Now get ready for...
yup intelligent persiflage
determining if potty "talk" gauge
correctly calibrated courtesy this sage.

Beats out global warming
by a long stretch
most important commander
must set example you betch
chore life no matter
if miserable wretch

survives impeachable offenses
enough to make me kvetch,
especially four more years
yours truly will once again become
bulimic anorexic wretch.

Versus important crisis
of planet Earth,
where Gaia's bountiful
nature woolworth
analogous wharf resplendent
docks side of ships berth state
housing electricity generating

mined resources inevitable dearth
warming chill folks
courtesy homey hearth
reminiscent during inchoate
fetal nine months
in utero signaling imminent birth.

Quite understandable reasonable,
non negotiable, inviolable...
blah... blah... blah
scalp itching blather
particularly to prioritize
orange-blond hirsute fullness

upon rinsing sudsy shampoo lather
as expressed by this
post baby boomer
pencil neck geek father,
who attempts to walk poetic feet
across cyber sea
miraculously to slather.

Trademark seedy nonsensical
farcical gobbledygook,
perhaps posthumously printing
bestselling blank paginated chapbook

ghost written by Trump
titled Art of the Steal
detailing head and shoulders how to look
suave and sophisticated all business

swiftly tailored harried style shook
White House disguised himself as rook
key "Fake" incognito president
recruiting apprenticed bartered bride
slow vacuuming trophy wife crook

cow hoard milching, kickstarting,
inciting, generating... donnybrook
coiffing pompadour resembling
forefathers windblown periwig.

Nope not even one hair
mussed out of place,
as if teetering fountainhead
supporting Atlas shrugged

top heavy topples
and crashes scattering
bajillion easy pieces everyplace
analogous to humpty dumpty
each and every last vestige

vanishing without a trace
exiting out cloaca
subsequently intently watching
toilet bowl royally flush
clockwise if within northern hemisphere

heavy enough to sink submarine
haint no reason yours truly might gush
even if abominable ballast
saves queasy passengers
plummeting thru aerospace.

Suburban Blues

Well, get up on time,
See your days pass by.
Don’t ask questions,
To leaders of suppression.
Cause court is in session.
Obey this do that,
When you go out,
Don't wear hood or hat.

Ah, eat more Tyson food
City gave us a candle,
Ask for a meal, they might be in a good mood.
Lights, camera, action,
Fake your true reaction.
College teaching us
Basic subtraction,
Wondering if it’s all distraction
To what we love to do

Ah, sulfates in shampoo
Don’t complain about
Government voodoo
Whatever you do
Whatever you see
Don’t take it too personally.
Cause you might change the world
May do what they don't want you to.
Might abolish greed,
And you might uproot their evil seed.

Ads littered on t.v.
It’s bait for the hook
Crooks stalking my Facebook
Someone’s in a fight,
But people enjoy and look look look.

Well, Billy threw up 
That corn syrup.
Read your schoolbooks and shut-up.
Rise for the anthem,
Rise for the pastor,
Labeled dumb for not
Thinking faster.
Sally resisted two faced authorities.
Cells are filled with innocent minorities.

Ah, preach it on hills
Lights flashing in Area 51,
They shut down my windmill
I’m faced with a giant and my ammo equals none.
How is my grandson gonna live?
If all he does is forgive
Those who take and do not give?
I’m staying home today,
To relax and pray. 

Ah but GMO is in my fruit.
Saw a man trade his soul for a nice suit.
Hypocrites smile with snakes in their boots.
Ben came home with black eye
Then left his mama without a goodbye.
Mamas sittin on the porch only to cry 
For her son who is now getting high.
Last week he was a victim in a driveby.
Read all about it in the news.
Single mother of none in suburban town of blues.

Little girl taken in an alleyway,
Policemen said they'll find her another day
Unless the parents have money to pay,
You won't be seein her face, hey!
Little girl grew up hangin by street corners,
Asking for one night for only four quarters.

Meanwhile in Flint Michigan
The water is polluted brown but they ain't listenin,
So the citizens are thirstin’
For some hydration.
Metals in their water
While the mayor counts his dollars 
The governors apologize 
But it's just more lies.
Read all about it in the news,
Truth is kept hidden in suburban town of blues.
Form: ABC


Your First Hellhound For a Lover

i sit in this hot shower and my bones feel cold. my brown hair is falling out as i wash my legs on this floor and i wonder if you would wash my hair for me. if you would kiss my scalp while i cry and i will hope you cant see my tears but we both will know you could. you will keep your lips sealed for my pride.


i wonder if your warmth would bring my bustling body back to life,
i wonder oh baby i wonder

i think in this hot shower with my eyes shut and my legs crossed and my teeth bared like a hellhound ready to strike
i have spent all my life wondering. 
i have spent so much time daydreaming and honey you are the best daydream i've got. the closest step to the fantasy world and i will grip on with my foaming lips and sharp claws and pray you dont bite back. 

I will watch my teeth meld into your neck and hope you've got dog shampoo for my wretched body. i hope you have enough heating pads and blankets because at night baby i get cold and i get mean. these claws sharpen and my scars show darker and my brain gets fuzzy and maybe its like im possessed. 

 the sharpest fangs bite the hardest at night and when you feel cold you grow ugly. my eyes will sink in at night and my nose will shape crookedly and my hair will stand on its end and i daydream you will find me pretty when i moan like a dying dog. it feels like yesterday i was on the operation table being ripped from my mother and the brown freckles on my skin whisper at night i wont be warm again. that i will fight again. that in the ring i will bare my scars to the monster and i will fight it alone. i will fight it so alone that the monsters cold breath will give me frostbite. you will be gone for a minute but i know you wont leave me. at the end of the fight, at the end of the match, you will pick my bruised and battered body back up and tell me how good i did. how beautiful i looked how sweet my dance was how well behaved i am,, how much you love me- You wont leave me because for such a hellhound, my body is so cold and you find it lovely.  you will set my nose back into place and suck my eyes to where they belonged. you will silence my cries and kiss my hellish features goodnight. because for such a hellhound, i am such a beautiful girl. i am such a good pet. i am your favorite hellhound.

Sitting In Bed

Sitting in bed.

It’s time for sleep, shower first.
Three baskets of clean clothes, bedside.
Cats' nocturnal sport rumbling across the wood floor, mother pouncing daughter, chasing rubber balls.

Tinnitus and the sound of air whuffing through the ventworks.  Faintly piano music seeps through the seal of my door from children’s room, as they dream.  I’m sitting... in bed.

I need to shave.  My razor’s dull.  The hairs will be plucked from my face, less shorn.  I will examine skin for blemishes, and finding none will probably aggravate a neutral irregularity to the point of bleeding.  I’ll brush my teeth first, to avoid the taste of shaving cream.  Then shave and shower, and recall the salt stone my abuser once gave me.  She loved me then.  Perhaps.

My shampoo is infused with tea tree oil and mint.  It irritates my sensitive scalp a little.  It smells so good.

I’m not ready to sleep.  I’m not ready to shower or shave.  I still taste milk on my breath.  And I’m awake, as if capturing a few more moments of consciousness… were a virtue.  Is it?

Tinnitus my faithful friend.  A frequency so high it’s almost imaginary.  A close listen reveals dissonance, two or three tones.  The warbling interference pattern.  You are the closest I come to silence.

Cotton swabs, shoot.  I need to make a list.  One or two things I remember in the store, and more I forget.  Some microwavable containers for rice, to take to work.  I’ve been eating sweet potatoes in an effort to lose weight.  I like them, but… variety.

Something… something else I wanted to remember.  Batteries?  No, that wasn’t it.  Cobwebs?  No, why would I need to remember cobwebs?  I have cobwebs in my brain.  Ah!  Kitty litter.  So that too, and…  well, I’ll think about it later.

I’m starting to lose feeling in my feet and lower legs.  It’s better than restless legs, with which I sometimes wrestle.  Usually when I’ve done this, procrastinating sleep.  Magnesium depletion, I suppose.  Or something.

To have a hand on my back, scratching sweetly.  An tender arm draped lovingly, even excitedly over my large belly.  The sensation, the meaning.  I long for it.  Long hair, gentle voice, she's with me.  Forever.  If only.

Goodnight.
© Tedly Bare  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Welcome To My World -The Cost of Happiness-

~TAKE MY MONEY ~

Crimson Joy, L'Oreal Lips, DOLCE & GABBANA eyewear 
Mascara from beyond LONDON Bridges
Like the pretty face found in front of Vanity Fair
What can I say? Perfect -- goes with my daily addiction

A beautiful morning cup, STARBUCKS got my money
It's not more or less the cost or taste. 
It's all about my dependency, with popular brand names
Shopping from place to place --- with a smile on my face
VICTORIA SECRET and the way she wears her bra.
$72 dollars it's time to double up them d's
Christmas Red and December Blue 
Walmart can't pick up my bust the way she claims with trust.

Hot Topic's on my dark fashion list, Star Wars decor to explore
Obsessed with any accessory from the Walking Dead?
Bennie, blankets, epic shirts with gore, spending $200.00 more

Vulture is a man, with no hair, sat me down on his chair
"Try, this mam' a flat iron that works like MAGIC." 
"Did you say magic?"
Didn't ask how much, once he commenced caressing my hair
Straight and silky like when I first bought the Evolution Wand 
I tried to resist, however, I swear I heard the Iron call my name
This time, I promise to use it more than once
Between you and I - I don't even care to do my hair 
Next thing you know, I own the Lioness curler iron too
With Expensive shampoo and conditioner.
What can I say, Buy 2 get the third one free
Finally, I felt - I got the best bargain possible
I won't even tell you how much I paid
You'd probably think, $189.00 is steep 
How could I say no?
He threw in a heating glove, that's what I call Consumer Love.

Heading home, I spot Best Buy, needing a case for my iPhone 6 plus
Strolling near aisle 3, I hear Dr. Dre, started some new beats
Falling in love with the level of quality, $299.00 how can that be?
I put a pink pair in my basket, they have to be special and unique
After all, $299. Means they are popular :)
Bargains here bargains everywhere, check out time, I paid 550 dollars
I'm so proud of myself today,  I saved and gained 101 points 

Happy and dandy I feel complete,
I will end, my freestyling write
With uplifting words  --- Aren't you lucky I'm not your WIFE???

~PD~
WELCOME TO MY WORLD
TRUE STORY

Bar None No Shortage of Soap Shampoo, Nor Detergent

Bar none, no shortage of soap shampoo, nor detergent

Courtesy food pantries
Saint Eleanor's Saint Mary's,
Our Daily Bread,
the missus and yours truly (her spouse)
well stocked with good n plenti of
soap, shampoo and detergent.

Spongebob squarepants
would be in seventh heaven,
where sudsy clouds (resembling
Mister Krabs, Plankton,
Sandy Cheeks, Squidward, et cetera),
would drift across celestial vault.

Gratitude bequeathed to prophets of virtue
benevolent good samaritans
who trend righteous true
to the calling of helping hands who renew
faith (mine) in goodness of humanity
assisting not only yours truly
and the missus, but people
from South American country named Peru
or even indigenous tribes
accorded recognition comprising
population of inhabitants occupying New
Zealand, offered reparations

under the Treaty of Waitangi,
a process of reparation allowed
Maori to be fully recognized
at political level in lieu
of unfair practices inflicted upon
original occupant loosely similar
to descendents of long lost tribes of Israel,
endowed with (pure tin) pride
wishing I too could call myself proud Jew,
nevertheless attraction manifests destiny
(mine) someday to learn Hebrew.

Courtesy atheism more so Unitarianism,
I need not adopt
an explicit dogmatic, fanatic, humanistic...,
lunatic, narcissistic, puritanic... paradigm,
but only tout poetic justice (mine)
to recognize laudable traits
linkedin to orthodox faiths,
albeit rationalistic rubric
that caters to selflessness

for no other reason
than allowing, enabling, and promoting
random acts of kindness
without any forthcoming great expectation
downplaying remuneration,
no matter destitution begot mein kampf
hard times living within bleak house
slight hyperbolic exaggeration
poor as a cheesy church mouse poet.

Lemme coast to a fitting conclusion
bringing reasonable rhyming blather
originating courtesy me noggin,
within which wool doth gather
thus I a halt and
dial down philosophical lather,
cuz most likely
ye dear reader would rather
experience palmolive oil slather
preparatory to full body massage.

Mother and Daughter

I wake to hear you crying, calling out to me.
I wearily open my eyes, it’s only half past 3.
I sigh, roll over, cover my ears, trying to ignore.
But your persistent need for me, just grows more and more.

Eventually I go to you, and see you’ve wet the bed.
I feel bad making you wait so long, but these nights fill me with dread.
I clean you up and change the sheets, get you a small drink.
I go to leave, but you reach for me. And my heart starts to sink.

I climb into bed beside you and cuddle you in close.
I’m exhausted but I know it’s now, that you need me the most.
I push your hair away from your eyes, and slowly stroke your face.
Sing to you a lullaby, the song Amazing Grace.

Eventually you settle and we get much needed rest.
Some nights feel worse than others, our very own endurance test.
Your night-time escapades don’t stop you waking with the sun.
I sigh, remembering a time when my life was more fun.

I help you dress, and you complain about the clothes I choose.
I ask you to pick for yourself, but of course you refuse.
You watch tv and there is peace, if only for a while.
You sing along to the music, and I cannot help but smile.

I take you out for dinner and have to cut up your food.
You spill your drink, a woman tuts, people can be so rude.
I long for the future when this is not the case.
But immediately feel guilty when I see your innocent face.

We go home and I give you a bath, and everything’s wrong for you.
The shampoo hurts, the water’s cold, and then you need a poo!
Finally, your pyjamas are on, and I settle you down to sleep.
You fight it, I am so drained, I feel like I could weep.

I know I should enjoy this time, but sometimes it’s so tough.
I love you so much, but I wonder, if I am enough.
I’m lucky just to have you here, and I know that one day.
I will look back and regret, wishing your life away.

Eventually you fall asleep, and I creep out the door.
Into my own bed exhausted, I can’t do this anymore.
I find myself daydreaming, remembering a time long gone.
Cos even though you’re still alive, God how I miss you, Mum.
Form: Rhyme

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