Long Shampooed Poems
Long Shampooed Poems. Below are the most popular long Shampooed by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Shampooed poems by poem length and keyword.
What shimmers yonder blowing in the wind
What smooth and glowing curls unfurl out there
Take wing in Spring like yellow gods spaghetti
Glowing with the morning sunbeams just beginning
Pretty girls are a dime a dozen
Like street cars they pass by
But ugly Betty is on my mind
Her gentle smile is quite delicious
Dainty, even vaguely crooked from a distance
Yet serenely she walks down the street oblivious
Not knowing exactly what is on my mind, she blinks
It's not what's in her head that peeks my interest
That excites my curiosity
I'm certain there's lots of air in there to spare
But what's on top, planted on that bulbous skull
Lovely women ask for money that is not mine
I have none to give at this or any other time
What causes intrigue is something other
One curl, one lock of hair from my ugly lover
Is all I desire in this cruel and balding world
Is that too much to ask for in these desperate hours
Love has no split ends without desires spent
What I would not give for one slice of it left to lament
My blade comes out of sheath
It doth not or does not speak
It craves something as much as I
Takes on a life of its own to slice
Enough! Must we brake all laws of nature
Is theft of hair not criminal
Doth or does grammar have no say in such matters
Tragic, epic, done or simply uttered, thought or thunk
To see me through longer days or shorter hair cuts
Her hair and no other shampooed and showered
One strand of it so shimmering, so shiny, undone
I pray for a peaceful day or night but neither commeth
One lock of gold hair so smooth would do
So shiny it actually shimmers as it glows
But no longer grows
Woke up this morning, it's one of those days.
I see the bright sunshine through a grey, misty haze.
My head hurts, my eyes burn, I hurt in some places,
That used to be located in different places.
Hobble to bathroom to soak in the tub,
And take ibuprophen in lieu of back rub.
Shampooed and relaxed I feel a bit peckish.
Some scones and some tea would make a nice breakfast.
No flour, no butter, my cupboard is bare.
I tell you this morning has started with flare.
I just grab a bite on the way to work.
Paid for donuts and coffee, spilled the cup on my shirt.
Got to work late so I stayed overtime.
Didn't get home until just before nine.
'Cause I had a flat tire and had no spare,
So I called a tow truck and had it repaired.
My neighbor came over with all of the news.
Sometimes that woman just gives me the blues.
She'll talk about anyone who isn't here.
Wonder who she talks about when I'm not there.
I finally flipped out and just had a cow.
It's good that I did 'cause I feel better now.
Tomorrow will be a much better day.
Today was a bad day, what more can I say.
In the edifice of memory, we slowly blend...
a citrus scent of tangy orange peels
with freshness sniff of cinnamon cakes.
an ephemeric smell of wet shampooed hair
with a spritz of cologne ruminating the spray.
an evening brew of chamomile soothed tea
burbling in resonance with expreso sunrise.
a whiff of sandal lingering in bath towel
with an ambrosial soul, in lavender incense.
that seductive night with a jasmine garland
delighting feminine fragrance in a rose pool.
perfumed petals wafting on gentle breeze
with a nostalgia of infused wet petrichor.
In the castle of these redolent remembrance
transfusing our breath, inhaling an invisible
It's love at first smell, an odor that's too near
diffusing pheromones of aromatic souvenirs.
My left sock filed taxes on a Tuesday frog,
while a cabbage sang opera to a confused log.
The moon ate a stapler with mustard delight,
then borrowed a canoe from the darkness of light.
I purchased a banana for seventeen clouds,
but the receipt was allergic to yodeling crowds.
A rhinoceros teacup performed ballet cheese,
and a watermelon sneezed in seven languages.
My toaster proposed to a decorative brick,
their wedding was speedy, suspiciously quick.
The minister hamster wore cinnamon pants,
while unicycling ferrets performed tribal dances.
At midnight a turnip became Vice President,
its policies largely were soup-oriented.
It promised free waffles for every raccoon,
and declared every Thursday a ceremonial spoon.
The end is approaching, or maybe a chair.
A penguin just shampooed the national air.
I leave you this wisdom, profound as a sock:
If potatoes can whisper,
then gravy can rock.
Fin.
Or asparagus.
She looked pretty at the Zebra crossing,
weaving slowly, her shampooed hair tossing,
cars stopped still, to allow her go across,
who wouldn’t stop to let a beauty pass!
She looked neither to her left nor her right,
body cutting out shape in pants bit tight,
eyes fixed on the messages on her phone,
tripping when side stepping a traffic cone.
She continued her walk on the pavement,
her gaze on phone, no other engagement,
people just getting out of her long strides,
moving out, leaning against walls on sides.
She will, let us pray, march on and reach home,
Walking in a dream with eyes on her phone,
Smart phone habits have made people road blind,
live in a cyber, not engage their mind.
a habit that has cost many their lives,
smart phones kill more now than do guns and knives,
when use road pay attention to surrounds,
watch each step well as your feet touch the ground.
not fashionable if on phone walking,
drivers, road users find it annoying,
drop habit, urge others to do the same,
can save lives, limbs, if this habit we tame!
So many blessings in my life...some come big...and some come small...
A hot mug of coffee, when morning arrives
Our big front porch...to sit and greet the sunrise
Pigeons cooing in the trees, out in the pasture scene
The mountains that surround our valley, beyond this hillside green
A happy hound, with wagging tail, who sits by my side
A friendly neighbor who waves to me, while driving by
My husband wearing an apron, while the bacon sizzles
A kiss on the back of my neck, with a gentle little nuzzle
Morning's newspaper, the comic strip and a crossword puzzle
A hot shower, that warms me from my head to my toes
A closet filled with comfy jeans, and too many clothes
A house that's big enough, even when cleaning it takes all day...
But rooms to spare, that fill up fast, when family comes to play
The music from the radio...(he likes the classics too)
The smell of sawdust, when he's busy making something new
The sound of tires on the gravel drive...when friends have just arrived
Our sons playing their guitars, my daughter's lovely singing, on the patio outside
Our kids, with caring hearts, when Dad or I could use a hand
And children laughing, doors are banging, mischief brewing
The fragrance of their shampooed hair, squeaky clean from the tub
Their sleepy, pink scrubbed cheeks, and pajama clad sweet hugs
An old weathered, leather book, filled with my mother's handwritten words
A tea set that I played with when she held me in her arms
A photo of my father, from a childhood on the farm
Oh the blessings come, some big, some small....so many that I can't name them all....
These are a few I will recall.... forever....
Albeit cold shower with sudden zoo
ming onset of
brisk fallen temperatures
may not be amenable to you
dear reader, but after Matthew
sets to washing
creating substantial lather,
visited with healthy slew
of frothed shampooed hair do
(cuz - jest like
Spongebobsquarepants,
I like abundant suds),
which initial shock
of cold water jolts mine
body inducing "Whew"
to escape soaped over mouth
(here, lemme lean in
so yukon get a whiff)
this self proscribed
quasi (very diluted off the
Peco boo grid) deprivation
of hot H2O tolerance,
qua minimal self
elected survivalist
modus operandi value
bull electric kool aid acid test
undertaken in the
event devastating adversity
(mainly an electricity
power outage) doth render
livingsocial uncomfortably
cold to the bone and sinew,
where mind over matter decides
riches superfluous,
especially if parvenu,
when scads of back up
generators conk out
total unbelievable wreckage,
sans the overnight
natural germane Blitzkrieg
imposes savage apocalyptic
devastating hellacious milieu
(on account of a mega disaster
such as hurricane Michael), who
doth not indiscriminate
toward gentile or Jew
obliterating entire infra
structure super glue
equalizing economic disparity hew
wing fair playing field reducing
whether disposable wealth harkens
from "old" money, and/or nouveau
riche, this sudden
catastrophic event brew
till lee decrees indeterminate
penury, and trappings
of theoretical leisure class
bon voyage every stitch of cloth,
and other material goods
forcibly bade i.e. adieu.
(For Beloved Pets competition, submitted June 16th 2015)
Tell-tale marks from your last climb, those claw marks in the paper
removing the wall coverings better than a shop bought scraper
the light pull I have had to change, the curtain cords as well
shampooed the landing carpet three times now to clear the smell
each week another dead rodent and slugs, just one or two
you've turned the space behind the couch into your private zoo
The scratch posts I sent back (good job that I kept the receipts)
since for that job the table leg you find is hard to beat
sticky gunk on cushions, God knows where you'd picked that up
and leaping on the counter knocking off my favourite cup
getting me to climb, at my age, up into the tree
to rescue you but you climbed down and ran off, leaving me
the Fire department had a laugh, but no, you didn't care
but sashayed off, oblivious, long tail held in the air
piles of towels for drying you from days spent in the rain
on next door neighbour's garage roof, governing your domain
the Doctor says my blood pressure is just a little high
I felt I'd lose my dignity if I really told him why
since all it takes it just one look from two bright amber eyes
to soften up the heart of one long suffering old moaner
I love you my Celeste, my Cat, forever-
from your owner x
In walked the Redeyed Stranger
Bragging: he used an excessive amount of
bagging gestures and words. He was told by
his handler to tune down the rhetoric, as one
person found him rude and overbearing. We
were worried someone would use the
opportunity to be mean of crasp towards him.
His horse had been clipped and shampooed.
The animal was a prized Belgium Draft, hows
shiny black fur was a sight for even the most
novice of people. The most positive thing about
his rant was we foundout that he worried about
someone greasing his saddle. He told one of
the men To watch the pranksters. One of them
might want to grease my saddle to get me out
of contention.When the time came for the horse pull
a fella went out and looked at all the saddles.
and be hold the saddle for the Belgium Draft had
been greased. A group of rider found a can of
grease with a brush in the chicken coop behind
the pile of cornhusks.
This a story about a group of Show horse riders who incorporated
"La selle Grasse" into there show. It was a scritp that involved the
audience.Often the Staged show would involve horses doing tricks.
"The Magnificent Athlete" a fella who wore a mask and cape would
come to the rescue of the guy accussed of greasing the saddle,
they'd brawl and tell the audeince who really greased the saaddle,
revealing a tied up man gagged with a hankercheif in his mouth.
The Masked Man than would use this forumn to catupule his
rasslin carreer. He'd "work a-show" for cheap heat and get
the pop he needed to get over with the crowd. ( He was raising money
to start his restaurant)
My hair is picky
I need a shampoo
I tried every brand
Yet nothing will do
So I hit up the net
To find a solution
Cooked up a storm
And created pollution.
I added subtracted
And multiplied twice.
Came up with something
I couldn't cut with a knife.
So I twisted and churned
And added a scoop.
Created something
That resembled a soup.
I gave it a nod
Because I thought it was right
Shampooed my hair
And turned it all white.
I added some color
Some fragrance and shine
Thought for sure
It would work this time.
I woke up this morning
My hair was all gone.
Something for sure
Went terribly wrong.
But no need to worry
I'm working on wax.
Hopefully my hair
Will never grow back.