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Left Foot Poet May 2015
If she didn't color her hair,
what color would it be,
I ask,
making early morning holiday
bed talk

Gray, she replies

disputation, I say,
for I see yet much
brune underneath,
nary a single hairy grayling

smiling with affection,
she salutates:

appearances of a changeling,
perhaps,
I am or always be,


like one of your new poems,
using old words for new colors,
my rainbow always ends,

decorating our bed
Ashlyn Yoshida Jun 2020
My hair is longer
than before
But lately
I want a little more

so bring the dye
and bring the paste
I'm feeling purple
so hurry before it's too late

'that looks kinda red, Ash'
Shayloves May 2020
Cast Iron comb held freedom between its teeth
Release me from these naps- it’s straightness I seek
Praying I don’t get burned and have to pay a price
Just to get someone to notice and say my hair looks nice
It’s blowing in the wind just as smooth as you please
Fingers don’t get stuck; they flow through with ease
Walking down the street I catch a few winks and stares
I’m flowing with my hot combed hair without a care
Thunder rolls and lightning strikes...cumulus clouds gather
Umbrella in the car😳, this is no laughing matter!
Minutes pass and strangers still smile as they stroll by
I couldn’t muster the energy to figure out why
My hair, no longer straight, must be ***** and knotted by now
I looked in the mirror and still gathered compliments but didn’t know how
I thought for a moment about how carefree I felt as the sun came into view
I realized I’d just been released from those sad old hot comb blues.
Shay
Michael R Burch Jun 2020
For All That I Remembered
by Michael R. Burch

For all that I remembered, I forgot
her name, her face, the reason that we loved ...
and yet I hold her close within my thought:
I feel the burnished weight of auburn hair
that fell across her face, the apricot
clean scent of her shampoo, the way she glowed
so palely in the moonlight, angel-wan.

The memory of her gathers like a flood
and bears me to that night, that only night,
when she and I were one, and if I could ...
I’d reach to her this time and, smiling, brush
the hair out of her eyes, and hold intact
each feature, each impression. Love is such
a threadbare sort of magic, it is gone
before we recognize it. I would crush

my lips to hers to hold their memory,
if not more tightly, less elusively.

Published by The Raintown Review, The Eclectic Muse, Kritya, Gostinaya (in a Russian translation by Yelena Dubrovin), Boston Poetry Magazine, Freshet, Jewish Letter (Russia), Poetry Life & Times, Sonnetto Poesia, Trinacria, The New Formalist, Pennsylvania Review. Keywords/Tags: Memory, remembrance, love, name, features, face, hair, eyes, lips, mrbmem, crush, impression, recognize, recognition, remember, remembered, forgot, forgotten, angel, wan, night, flood
Ankita Dash May 2020
know when you said you wanted the world, wanted us to take on the world?
to read strange eyes and stranger smiles off of strangers' faces;
to see what makes you laugh, bawl, shatter, feel;
to knit stars into daydreams;

but your mama never gave you pocket money.

so you needed a runaway girl to fund your self destruction
and now you've been living backwards because
there is a place in your memory where your hand clenches my autumn kissed green hair that you never really liked

and you like that, don't you, darling?
Bina Mukherjee May 2020
Your tresses are not smooth and silky
Lady..you have got grey hair!!
Your skin is breaking
There are lines on your forehead.
Why you are so skinny?
Don't you eat well...


You don't seem pristine,
Just look at your ravishing friend.

Yes...i do agree to the above delineation
But ...you don't know many facts.

That I was wide-awake uncountable nights
for my little ones,
Be it the school project or making that perfect attire for my princess's fancy dress
Or those sleepless nights with ear ache , fever or growing pains.

I have sometimes heard you talking about me from behind.
But have that golden heart to come and know my plight....
I would share with you the story of my pale visage
As  I have always loved my family more before self.

Ageing is a natural phenomena
Come to me I will guide you
Know that those lines and silver strands are signs of my eternal beauty,
But I can't blame your ignorance,as it is known by few.

Bina Mukherjee
Chloe May 2020
You might be quite bored
But don’t make the same mistake
Do NOT dye your hair
I know everyone’s bored in quarantine but do not dye your hair.
Eitten S Apr 2020
I used to have long hair
That was before I really cared
About what people thought of me

I cut my hair
It’s really short

I care about what people think now
And I really want love

All the girls I see have long hair
All the long haired girls have boyfriends

I have short hair
But I want to grow it out again
The thing is... I look better with short hair, but I don’t want to look good... I want to feel good. I want to feel loved.
Guadalupe S P Mar 2020
Her hand moves in a back and forth manner
as if she were playing the trombone
But she's really just pulling my greñas
spreading more Brillantina
to make her baby's hair sparkle    
even though its color is nowhere near that of brass
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