Have you ever shed a tear for me?
I've cried a sea for you
Don't tell me that I shouldn't have
I did and I still do
Love has no sense of can or can't
It knows no right or wrong
It's only wish is to enchant
The subject of its song
It's written for a someone
A pretty Bluebird fair
Who wears vanilla rose perfume
And ponytails her hair
A jean jacket, an onyx ring
Fair Isle sweaters, and can she sing!
And for her I'd do anything
And with her I'd do everything
There are colors that please the eyes:
Rainbows, sunsets, and a sunrise
On psychedelic, I can't gaze
Without recalling careless days.
Ponytails, psychedelic shirts
Flower girls in long, faded skirts
Hippies searching in mushroom clouds
Anti-war protests drawing crowds
Talk of love is everywhere
Psychic wisdom floats in the air
Peace and love in every song
Thinking all the world can be one
While in the flower fields afar
Youths die fighting another war.
POTW!
Oh circular scrunchie
How are you ?
You have been tangled up in women’s hair
For far too long
Scratching the long curly beads
Of millions of youngish females worldwide
For decades now
Connecting brunettes blondes and redheads alike
Protecting the very fabric of femininity
Women’s scalps
Oh bless you oh scrunchie
You are a true survivor
A true victor
Worthy of many accolades
A symbol of strong women everywhere
No more need for Bobby pins
Ponytails are a thing of the past
Long live the scrunchie!
Hair today and here tomorrow!
Frilly lace and white petticoats,
Where did your young summers go?
Long ponytails and climbing trees,
My memories are all of these.
Now a woman stands, where once a child
Ran laughing, to me with open arms.
A woman stands, and smiles at me,
Still grins with impish charms.
Today you walked through my front door.
I saw a woman, not a child.
How proud I am to be your Dad,
But the memories still make me a little sad.
'Cause you don't need me quite so much,
But I'll always remember the soft, little touch
Of your tiny hand upon my unshaved cheek
And the way you say "Daddy" so very sweet.
Copyright Chula Fleming June 1, 1991
I know you guys made fun of my different colored ponytails and the uneven line I did to seperate my hair,
that creamed my hands full of care,
even though my hair sometimes looked like a total scare.
Behind my back were many words,
with them I tried to play chords: ,,Hi!", with a big smile and welcoming hand,
fit pile pancakes in pan.
I loved the taste of honey and Butter on top.
Would eat it even double a day.
And would forget to count days.
Stay behind me and laugh,
but please just don't stand infront of me and face me.
You people have beautiful faces,
and a body figure like the shine of an diamond.
But I know you guys fall apart,
These diamnods are not found everywhere.
Tiny like Salt,
but without nothing would work.
But not like Gold,
Gold doesn't make relapse.
In most of the movies back in the day.,.
women of the sixties wore glasses, so they could be smart
Women without glasses were thought to have empty non-thinking heads
In the sixties TV shows, all librarians wore glasses
Even the ones who did not need them
sexy women put their hair in ponytails and wore glasses
So men would be afraid of their smart brains.
When the women wanted to wow the men
They would take their hair down and
take off their glasses
The men's eyes would bug out.
They could not believe how attractive the women had become.
They barely recognized them and fell in love instantly.
As soon as the smart glasses came off.
we watched this on TV all the time when I was young
Ponytails
Swishing madly,
Hurdling across the pitch.
Beads of sweat
Spraying in spirals
As fingers point,
Shouting directions
To strikers, wingers, and defensemen.
Defensewomen, really.
Get back!
Push it!
Don't lose form!
Take the shot!
Grazing past the clown gloves.
Concaving the thick nylon.
Back of the net glory!
Now run around like giddy school girls
For exactly 8 seconds.
Now mark your man!
Woman, really.
No whiners here.
No floppers allowed.
What's this look like,
Men's soccer? Pansies.
The beautiful game is proof that
The real soccer men
Are women.
The tiny gremlin was dancing in the dandelions.
Her arms were high above her waist, she was singing.
“Celebrate! Celebrate! Celebrate today!”
My face was softening with a smile as I spied her.
She is Penny, my neighbor, and she is adorable.
Her two blonde ponytails were bouncing as she was twirling.
She spun so hard, she fell down twice; laughed both times.
What are you celebrating? I asked her upon my approach.
“I am celebrating you!” she told me.
No better answer if you ask me.
There are so many things to observe
as I sit at the canal trail.
My senses catch it all.
Shirtless runners,
The swish of thier sneakers as they pass.
A family picnicking not far away.
Bike riders side by side chatting to each other.
A man pushing his partner in a wheelchair.
A child running to his daddy.
Leaves fluttering in the wind.
Hawks soaring over thier prey.
Gulls seeking fish.
Sparrows chirping away.
Ducks bobbing on the waves.
Speed walkers pass briskly by.
Seniors walking thier dogs.
Dogs checking out the trees.
People gazing at the scenery.
Girls and guys with hair tied in ponytails.
Shadows dancing across the lands and water.
Roof tops peeking through the trees.
Sun beating against my back.
From where I sit I am just a shadow.
Sitting on the sidelines,
with my butt pressed in this bench,
Wondering...
"Why am I not doing any of these things?"
Utopian Smoke
David J Walker
tie-died Salesmen in ponytails
offered peace in an
Aquarian timeshare
for annual fees and considerations
keys of dried green grass line
Golden streets with Brass Bongs
And the utopians smoke
in long tokes exhaling
foreign views of a world
from the peaks of unnamed
Mountains
where Everyone is equal
Because everyone is No one
who drink from the same fountain
Addressing the various alias
Sir names on forged birth certificates
quoting Dylan as the
Odd god of mangled and
Meaningless phrases
The tie-died Salesmen in ponytails
Have taken apartments
On Wall Street
"Now" she's eating her cheerios, one-by-one
She sits in a three ring circle with her friends
Warmth, she is, by the rays of the morning's sun
Her hair in ponytails all curled with loose ends
She sits in a three ring circle with her friends
Grandmother's knitted blanket rests on the chair
Her hair in ponytails all curled with loose ends
Playing, real life, with her friends (two) "Teddy Bear"
Grandmother's knitted blanket rests on the chair
She made it for her granddaughter, years ago
Playing, real life, with her friends (two) "Teddy Bear"
Grandma's knitted blanket- one day...she will know
She made it for her granddaughter, years ago
Warmth, she is, by the rays of the morning's sun
Grandma's knitted blanket- one day...she will know
"Now" she's eating her cheerios, one-by-one
( Picture 3. )
Feelings Of Nostalgia Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Eve Roper
6-17-2020
Unicorns and fairytales
Pretty bows and ponytails
Pink and lace
Charm and grace
All in a little girl.
Dreams of love
And maybe someday
Wake to find
That special one day
Roses red and candy kisses
All wrapped up in pretty ribbons
All for a little girl.
Moonlit walks along the beach
And stars so high
They can’t be reached
Rainbow dreams
And sunset scenes
Smiles and laughter
Forever after
All in a little girl.
Perfect
You think you’re doing it all right
with these beautiful, perfect kids.
Down at seven, up at eight,
kale chips and apple slices,
(no added sugar), Mozart and Bach,
organic cotton onesies, SPF 100,
ponytails and bows.
Suddenly it’s all over,
and you realize, ,
you could have served them cotton candy pie,
filled their bottles with chocolate,
you should have left the soles of their feet black,
their curls thick and matted.
How could you know all they needed was you,
with a clear eye and a strong heart
and a wish to be brave?
Pretty... is hard to find when you're dying in a grocery store line
a million shoppers with the same sweat pants,greasy ponytails
fatigue
slapping conveyor belts with hordes of spam and large bags of rice
is there anything more durable than grocery store conveyor belts-
God must be made from grocery store conveyor belts.
A woman in front of me enjoys her lean meats
almond milk and big diamond rings-
she slams the plastic food divider behind her floating wealth,
in front of my T.V dinner(s) and budget cigarettes-
her posture barking "you don't have a chance in hell buddy"-
but I've been around the block and know my boundaries very well.
For the next fifteen minutes we never make eye contact,
but I keep glancing at that little sweat mark on her almond milky @ss,
which strangely makes us more equal.
T Think about the ponytails and clean cut crews
H He is your main priority, there are books that prove
E Everyone smokes. It is sophisticated and fancy.
F Feeling truly patriotic and part of the bigger picture
I Independent children favor rock and roll.
F Financial freedom is the key
T The shiny black and white saddle shoes
I I know my cigarettes are rolled in my sleeve
E Everyone can discipline their neighbors’ children
S Skirts with poodles are the style
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