My hair! My hair! Where has it all gone?
I had more yesterday, long and blonde
But now it falls, like leaves on a tree
How could my hair be so mean to me!
Well, I must admit, I was not fair
Can I help if I wanted blonde hair?
It was my trademark, it made me fine
But now that's gone, I can only whine.
Each three weeks, I punished any brown
with peroxide, I'd disdain and frown.
I'm sure it burned and gave my scalp pain,
but how lovely to be blonde again.
But now revenge has begun in full.
(I think it has broken all hair rules!)
First, it traded my sweet blonde for grey,
Then, not long after, that went away.
Then white appeared, what? I am not old!
Who said this tale just had to be told?
I still have some hair, but it goes fast.
If I lose all, a blonde wig will last!
Sometimes,
a guy just wants a peroxide blonds
with painted ruby red lips.
Something fake and pretty
sexy would help also.
He said this leaning on the counter
with his elbows
while ogling the barmaid.
I looked into my foaming beer
recalling all the authentic, lovely,
unpainted women I had known
and said:
Yea.
peroxide time
little jadaya skinned her knee
there are a few tears
there are a couple of 'ow's
there are even a few jumpy flinches
once the feeling passes, however, the kneepads go on, and it is back to it
i become a smiling hater and wish that i still had jadaya's energy
nevertheless, i had my time, and now it is her turn
i like my era of childhood better anyway
one day jadaya will say the same
in the meantime, i just shake my head, smile, and keep my ears and eyes open
oh, and the peroxide, along with the old school band aids, will be waiting alongside me
Ammonium Nitrate
Acetone Peroxide
Butane
Dynamite
Erythritol Tetranitrate
Gunpowder
Lead Styphnate
Trinitrotoluene
8atha 8atha 8atha.
Reply not to a womans punch:
Bruises you won’t find the following dawn.
You rather her ask to surrender her lunch
For your gorgeous garment she has torn….
And you neither down go
After a woman’s ill-wishing blow
For you can still her show
You can in her company flow
And her punches, vanishing pains after noon;
Wounds hydrogen peroxide dispatch soon.
Peroxide blonde and covered in petals,
Bleach kills flowers - She’s less softener than metal
A body rooted in pride, trying to run, Jackal and hide.
There’s some double entendres, catch them if you can,
There’s something about her, try to find it, you’ll both be damned.
To Cinderella she’s her own step sister,
Crying out for love, afraid of those who’d listen.
Just someone out there longing for a cause in existence,
Just someone out there, longing for a reason to stay persistent
She can hear Elvis Presley in her earphones,
A gramophone is playing on the table
There's a Chelsea poster on the wall,
And the forgotten black phone rings.
He wore flared trousers and grew a mustache
His cassette player sings: "Mr. Sandman",
The floor clock in the apartment is ticking,
And the movie goes with Audrey Hepburn.
It is always tuned to its own wave,
And he's an avid Castaneda fan,
They will meet in tobacco captivity,
And there will be love in the retro style.
Their meeting is like a distortion,
As if time has gone backwards,
Love turned on the imagination
And connected the unusual again.
He rode up to her in a Deville,
She dressed like Marilyn Monroe
They spent everything they had saved,
They got married quietly in the office.
Blonde with peroxide in her pocket,
And the dude with the cigar in his hand,
Found each other in a retro fog,
And together we went on the road to the dream.
Coughing and sputtering...
The cold night air hurts my lungs...
I inhale my cigarette and Google the freezing point of peroxide...
My days have turned to mundane madness...
My nights blurr past like a speeding train...
I dream of breakfast even though it's 9 at night and I'm awake...
I count my nickels and dimes in hope of a biscuit in the morning...
Life is just a long hospice stay...
Merry Christmas
I vented the wooden nickel, racing down the highway going to fat couldn't pack;
Eating linoleum flavoured kitchen tea towels cat ridden rodents just got carjacked;
The anchor washed the clothes of the drummer in beat;
While nasty peroxide infinite infiltration spread across the heavens
Also back on them streets
For air aged wooded bleachers and plastic tic-tocks;
How often do the sheep sleep in caves;
Master Rhymer must be rhyming;
Cause! Factor factions decision made divided by bald headed lambs;
Can cottonwood be more than a tree;
As the flights of the washing machine;
Irons out the wrinkled mountain;
The way of flabbergasted ??
Platinum Icons
Their tale to tell is much the same
with looks that helped their claim to fame
Blonde and curvy, they got the jobs
In films and shows they flaunted their gobs
Deep, husky voices from too many fags
Scantily clothed in all the top mags
Make-up and peroxide over abundant
They could never ever be redundant
Marriage was multiple, two a penny
Own homes in Cannes, not Abergavenny
No doubt they had their special talents
In ads and the like for painted talons
B B, M M, and Zsa Zsa Gabor
Iconic beauties that most men adore
And models for women to emulate
enhancing their chance of getting a date
B B now old, the others since gone
Etched lines in face and gray, not blonde
Her love of animals has earned her repute
Her racist views we might well dispute
These women famed for enviable looks
Are immortalized in stacks of books
Although their films are somewhat dated
They’re still viewed and still well rated.
"You got a memory for faces, sugar?" How she stares!
"I think so, yes." Her smile splits like the crack of doom.
Peroxide pales her improbable pile. That beehive hair's
like something Boris Karloff might exhume.
"That's kinda fortunate, y'see, becuz there's
no freakin' mirror in your room."
When I was little I was told to be who I am
By my
Mother
Father
Pastor
Grandmother
Grandfather
And counselor
Who never told me what that really meant
I don't understand it until I got
Older
Bolder
Colder
Sadder
Madder
And shattered
Into pieces when I was told who to be, not who I am
I listened to my
Parents
Aunt
Uncles
Grandparents
Teachers
And guardians
Who couldn't even see how I felt
The ones who couldn't see my
Cuts
Bruises
Scabs
Tears
Wraps
And scars
Which haven't gone away that added everyday
I thought about
Suicide
Hydrogen peroxide
Homocide
A genocide
And how to hide
From the word where no one really knew me
I decided to be me
Impeccable
Musician
Maniacal
Abstracted
Laid-back
and Enthusiastic
About starting a new day in a new life.
going back to my pillow
not the ads on TV
I have no pain no gain
just a siesta waiting for fresh direct
delivery a slice of pizzas
and tapenade on toast
so erect for my age
will use the olive oil
and scratch my back
very basic just talk their language
and they will bring the oil
to share around the bloke
brushing my teeth a conundrum
ratatat the tuba for a parade
of mint and hydro peroxide
HOLLYWOOD THEN AND NOW
THEN
Leading lady wanted
Curvy boobs and bum
Must be a peroxide blonde
And preferably dumb
Leading man for western
Needs to ride a horse
Must like his women naughty
And drinking beer of course
Screenplay will be brilliant
Acting must be good
Sure to be blockbuster
'Cause this is Hollywood'.
NOW
Actress wanted for a movie,
Shooting starts in spring
Must have tiny little boobs
And legs resembling string
Also need a leading man
Shooting starts in May
Must have teeth as white as snow
And preferably gay.
The film features zombies
The script is badly written
All the intellectual stuff
Now gets made in Britain
The mirror stands cracked,
Neglected at the corner,
The broken glass wearing a coat,
Of a fine film of dust.
She no longer dares…
To look, nor does she care.
Her face, heart shaped,
Her eyes, bright and brown
Her skin a light shade of chocolate,
Her hands gently as if afraid, run down her face,
As if in fear they will hurt her skin.
Her face is rough,
Like the plains in the barren quarry,
Gingerly she touches each part,
The tears fall no more,
It’s part of her this skin
That strives to bring her loads of pain.
She walks the streets head held high,
She no longer cowers,
She stands straight and tall
Her heart threatens to tremble
As her peers point and giggle,
She can hear their words,
Shooting daggers into her heart,
“Look at her, look at her skin! Can’t she do something,
Aaargh some people! I just lost my appetite nkt”
A sad smile curls her lips,
She no longer pouts,
She knows she has done her best
The medicines, the creams, the ointments
Washed with peroxide but no, no change
Her skin remains stubborn
So she munches on, smiling to herself
She had a choice to live happy or in misery
She choose to happiness even the way she is.
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