Short Hairline Poems
Short Hairline Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Hairline by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Hairline by length and keyword.
grains of dew
forming a softening glaze
falling tediously
from your hairline
freshly stocked
unabashed stare of longing
Less than flattering waistline
mocks ever-thinning hairline
Disappearing gray matter
makes head look even fatter
Hairline trigger is how I’d describe my mind.
My thoughts are slippery and reek of formaldehyde.
very neat, very clean.
dangerous.
Form:
Physicist Albert Einstein
Redesigned his hairline
He enjoyed the notoriety
Having theorized “Relativity”
© November 14, 2011
Dane Ann Smith-Johnsen
Her hand in my hair and
our bodies now
slowly drifting apart,
while Chet Baker plays,
she says:
We love like the dust
and the hairline
cracks
in old mirrors.
between eyebrows and guru chakra
on the curve of forehead at our hairline
the higher third eye stirs
conjoined with the crown
entwined with spine and heart
with pulsations of love and light concurs
What do you call a bunch of rabbits hopping backward
“A receding hairline” wow, that's quite hazardous
Did you guys get it
You see... oh forget it
Guess you were hoping for something more serious
Where did Noah keep his bees? In the Ark-hives
Groaning from my hairline down to my manly thighs
Got an offer from Hollywood
To star in a film bout manhood
They were astounded by my jumbo and sexy eyes
If you men are at an age when your hairline is receding
Do you know what a parade of rabbits hopping backward means
Here's how it's defined
Yup, a “receding hairline”
Wasn't that a clever one, laughed so hard I soiled my jeans
Cinderella for a day
her pavlov dogs barking
Long shanks meant for the shining,
hairline conquests prevail
Antibiotics for a Queen
the white path of riddance
Stupor by Rules
Hysterical outcomes
The all Mighty Sun
is streaming
hoping for the fog
We are all a bit broken inside
Some only have hairline fractures
While others are completely shattered
Maybe the more broken you are is a blessing
Because when you put the pieces back together
The beauty in your rebuilt mosaic design will eternally shine
half smile starts to slip
hairline cracks around the lips
pick up the pace down
five flights she
hits the crash bar
stinging wind whips aside
all that remains
the startling cruelty of
unfinished
blurs
his gentle pale eyes in her rear view
A camping vacation the only kind
The trip with grandsons would be mighty fine
Standing in rush and Spanish Moss
Pictures to remember embossed
Scratching redbugs from hilt to my hairline
Inspired by Carolyn Devonshire's Vacation Contest
Not an entry
Im hairline
lost in the scent of you
delirious shared moments
yet under your eiderdown
lies a self centred heart
eagerly searching the next victim
I don't want to feel your pain
Id rather be a stream
that flats past your jaded chase
yet somehow prolonging my fear
you ve changed
A question was asked and an answer was given:
" I belong to the lower class -- a hairline above the poverty level. I am okay with the old clothes that I've been wearing for the past years. I'm fine with less and I would be happier if you speculate less... :)
Be proud of yourself and be natural!"
Time is a thief
Another year has gone by
It slips away a hand that grip
Flies like a wind, a beauty shy
Crisis and opportunity just a hairline
Of gaining failure and success
Thoughts are like rays that shine
It only stays at person that is avarice
Time is only fruitful and precious
If it is done only to good use.
Sleep hits my eyes,
red bolts burned in
"Twice as Bright!"
They warned me.
My hand presses forward,
against the the glass.
I want to touch me
So Bad
and it is
So Close
The mirror splits,
runs, hairline little racer,
flees to the corner as
the blood from its bite
is swallowed in the ash
in my palm.
His shadow moves in corners dark
His calling card, a well-known mark.
A trail of death, despair and want.
His arrogance, a daily taunt.
A hairline opening he found.
Slithering through without a sound.
Now the demon walks the earth.
Giving misery new birth.
Beware the place where darkness lives.
He seeks new life to join with his.
He hates the sessions
The therapist
Desperately trying
To have him conform
To the accepted
Societal mold
Yet
He chose his path
A long time ago
Now
They deem him
Broken
Yet
Time and again
He has to bend over
Betray logic
To accommodate
Now
The result is an
Hairline crack
He can feel
The pressure
Building up
(Ackmi Luis 2016)
There will come a cast iron rain
in brown paper sackfuls
carried by frail, dark men
who never share your eye.
And when that day comes,
the skies will tremble,
smiling into hairline cracks
at the seams, awaiting
the drum of an enormous
wooden spoon, old
as Grandfather Mountain
and nimble as time
leaping like a cut-glass trout
in your still, hazel stream.
When I am so weary
of this world
and
cynicism
speaks through my
eyes,
when desert summer
sun cannot
penetrate
this uninvited temperament
and fear brushes
my cheek on
my way out
the door,
I find
yours
to be
the
only
words
that crack
this
weathered bark
An imaged stone
With hidden flaws
Hairline cracks
O crackerjack
Dimly lit monument
In its place
Ceraceously covered
Comfortable til proved
Masked til moved
Into the sunlight
In the round
Tried by fire
The heat of day
Melts away
The priceless statue
Subjectively devoid
Alone freestanding
To weather rains
Fears and pains
Exposing imperfections
Inspired by John Hagee 1994
here on earth
i pray for all
in space
i have amnesia
the rainbow has golden strings
the sun has a surprisingly cool center
the moon has a warm, comforting glow
i am happy lying to myself
here at home
i play for all
rat race
i have amnesia
my voice painstakingly sings
my throat has a crockery laced splinter
the boos, yay, they steal the show
i get so excited when denying myself
Took Turn or Found a Twist
Maybe my poems might be a mind game
And God forbid who should get the blame
Was it you who mine you were reading
Or all of my hair that is now receding.
A hairline fracture has been on my head
Which caused me to wish I were dead
Now my forehead will brightly shine
And I can recline reading your valentine.
James Thomas Horn
Retired Veteran and Poet
RiverSea Plantation
Bolivia, NC
Enigmatically stubborn to style, the coif
Some days it can be easily pulled off
Other days it requires an exorcism
Like Zoolander it can look like ‘Magnum’
Hides my receding hairline like a charm
Sophistication to my head’s yardarm
Its antidote is a very windy day
Requiring heavy doses of hairspray
When it works my lady wants to stroke it
I recoil in fear, making her remit
For a single finger can ruin it
It’s a fickle angel to babysit