Fearing the loss of his hair, Porky Pig
went out and purchased a wig.
Now he's parading thinking he's handsome
securing his do cleverly with gum.
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
“Put your wig on” kid was crying
Seems like mom can’t win for trying
Kid blew his lid seeing her hair
And his teary eyes blinded from stare
Social media ate it up viral it went
Moms luck was a wig she wore no sin
Poor little kid thinks mom is sick
Unless she keeps on her luxury wig!
The pigeons of Trafalgar Square
Are feathered, yet lacking in hair.
They'd look erudite,
With wigs powdered white,
But wouldn't get up in the air.
There was a lady named Judy
She was quite a cutie
Until the wig came off
And makeup was tossed
Then she looked like Howdy Doody
It's thrilling
But so is this poem
I want to take up a most profound authority
Throughout the neighbourhood
A village pastor
And various pursuits of a similar kind
Give me my own planet
My own earf
Postmodernist scumbag
And cowboys from hell days
I want to hear the new Beyonce album
Between the buried and me
I am a cloud cuckoo lander
And wear a wig when driving my car
And the drying clothes all in the attic
I haven't time to fold them away tidily
But even the thieves were forgiven
Halloween wigmaker had a ghoulish garish way
inventing unique creations that made vampire’s day
how about a new wig made from an amputated head?
In a few hours it would smell bad the wigmaker said.
What if you used doll heads? The vampire suggested.
If you bring me the dolls, so the vampire invested.
People on the street yelled, kicked, gagged and screamed.
It made the Halloween better than anyone had ever dreamed.
he’d bought a skull rug for that spot
high on his head where hair was not
but …
it brought him rash and scalp decay -
one horrid nightmare’s “hell toupee”
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden, February 28, 2023
Paul wants to his debts pay by installments
Red-eyed Mark holds not back raw sentiments.
“The cash you plan to release me piecemeal
I could lavish in some delicious meal,
Kitchens crossing their doors to food feel
And pubs parting their curtains to thirst heal:
Now, Red-Hot Mark not sure of starting deals
Nor big transactions providing fast wheels.
Next, a Paul begging lender use of his brain
And brotherly saving of deserved pain…
“You know installments can’t drive a bargain
Which no strength saps while it assures gain!”
“Yes, but I know Little does help The Big
And one less lucky with hair tries The Wig”
When creditor and debtor converse
Check it: one wants to a few things reverse.
They could not wait to see what grandma’s newest wig would be.
Prepared for almost anything, she was whimsical and full of glee.
They began to laugh and point. The youngest one said “whoopee!”
She created a sassy and hippy-like wig that was totally punky.
My whimsical grandma for sure suits me, said Sammy, only age three.
bright colored feathers
dancing romancing red cheer
wig a gig heart big
Growing are the grumbles
By a Gathering of Humbles:
A skyrocketing effort to change an unchanging Dinah,
In figures, now closely chasing the population of China:
The grumbles, a fast succeeding siege against the judge
Now set to hit Justice where it hurts…
The earlier mumbles a saintly grudge
Whose holder unrestrainedly blurts.
A wig is helping an untiring lawbreaker,
Scheming to the wrong guy dump in rancorous jail;
One hell of a faking hostage taker
Juggling with sacred laws and trying to not fail!
Now, it’s an uncannily crappy proceeding,
All the jurors alive to the misleading:
The not guilty to soon watch the outside world from Dark Keyhole
The veritable Child of Judicial Remote Control.
Now, the grumbles are preaching
A second long look at the interpreter,
The earlier mumbles alleging a bewitching
Of the chosen typewriter;
The mumbles also cocksure of a garage
Groaning under the weight of new Toyota Cams
The grumbles amplifying to barrage
Judge’s recent receipts of Justice-perverting big yams.
Pierre's upscale wig shoppe sells fine toupees
Gus said, "This one I want to buy today."
Gus was ready to spit
'Cos his wig didn't fit
Pierre smiled ~ "First get a haircut, OK?"
borderline borderline
strike a pose
***
THE POWDERED WIG OF JOYCE JOHNSON
A wonderfully powdered wig,
like esoteric snow, fashioned
with an avalanche of wisdom,
for children and grands, too big.
The inscription on blessed face,
with so many poetically divine
words, wrinkled with fine lines,
aged flame of auburn’s embrace.
This hundred year so and so,
with so much artistic love, thrives,
through seasons of buttered life,
spreading beatific banquet for show.
Lord, you see the invisible one who
will one day meet your visible son.
Let ladies and gents court her words.
Let glorious fruit of Joyce’s voice accrue.
4/12/2018
Happy 100th Birthday!
Relates to poem by Joyce Johnson: I Feel Invisible
The moon
put on her wig
of stars
that trailed across
the universe.
If I get
stuck
out on the sun
please don't
try to comb
me out.
I am the farmer
that
plowed
the field of stars
in your
field of vision.
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.