Hair Poems

A young spring-tender girl
combed her joyous hair
'You are very ugly' said the mirror.
But,
...

On Raglan Road on an autumn day I met her first and knew
That her dark hair would weave a snare that I might one day rue;
I saw the danger, yet I walked along the enchanted way,
And I said, let grief be a fallen leaf at the dawning of the day.
...

I was hoping to be happy by seventeen.
School was a sharp check mark in the roll book,
An obnoxious tuba playing at noon because our team
Was going to win at night. The teachers were
...

One heavy day I ran away from the grim face of society and the dizzying clamor of the city and directed my weary step to the spacious alley. I pursued the beckoning course of the rivulet and the musical sounds of the birds until I reached a lonely spot where the flowing branches of the trees prevented the sun from the touching the earth.

I stood there, and it was entertaining to my soul - my thirsty soul who had seen naught but the mirage of life instead of its sweetness.
...

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever!
Let the bell toll!- a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river;
And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?- weep now or nevermore!
See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore!
...

The rain set early in to-night,
The sullen wind was soon awake,
It tore the elm-tops down for spite,
And did its worst to vex the lake:
...

I've come by, she says, to tell you
that this is it. I'm not kidding, it's
over. this is it.
I sit on the couch watching her arrange
...

Wait, for now.
Distrust everything, if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven't they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
...

Who are these? Why sit they here in twilight?
Wherefore rock they, purgatorial shadows,
Drooping tongues from jays that slob their relish,
Baring teeth that leer like skulls' teeth wicked?
...

And the weaver said, 'Speak to us of Clothes.'

And he answered:
...

Two knights rode forth at early dawn
A-seeking maids to wed,
Said one, "My lady must be fair,
With gold hair on her head."
...

Well my friends are gone and my hair is grey
I ache in the places where I used to play
And I'm crazy for love but I'm not coming on
I'm just paying my rent every day
...

Even the man who is happy
glimpses something
or a hair of sound touches him
...

When the moon was full they came to the water.
some with pitchforks, some with rakes,
some with sieves and ladles,
and one with a silver cup.
...

'I thought you loved me.' 'No, it was only fun.'
'When we stood there, closer than all?' 'Well, the harvest moon
Was shining and queer in your hair, and it turned my head.'
'That made you?' 'Yes.' 'Just the moon and the light it made
...

Sleep, darling
I have a small
daughter called
Cleis, who is
...

I loved you in the morning, our kisses deep and warm,
your hair upon the pillow like a sleepy golden storm,
yes, many loved before us, I know that we are not new,
in city and in forest they smiled like me and you,
...

My skin is kind of sort of brownish
Pinkish yellowish white.
My eyes are greyish blueish green,
But I'm told they look orange in the night.
...

My Pillow gazes upon me at night
Empty as a gravestone;
I never thought it would be so bitter
To be alone,
...

Your hair is lost in the forest,
your feet touching mine.
Asleep you are bigger than the night,
but your dream fits within this room.
...

Poets wax eloquent on the tresses
Of fair maidens framing their faces
Like dark clouds surrounding the moon
Or like the coolness of shade at noon
...

Todesfugue ('Death Fugue')
by Paul Celan
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
...

Epitaph for a Palestinian Child
by Michael R. Burch

I lived as best I could, and then I died.
...

Todesfuge ('Death Fugue')
by Paul Celan
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
...

Your head,
Your hair,
Original hair,
From birth;
...

So Im in Starbucks buying this expensive stupid coffee
And this white girl is staring at me with this stupid grin on her stupid face
and i knew what she wanted
I knew exactly what was gonna happen next
...

A Sonnet on my previously unruly curls
-Gayathri B. Seetharam
I heard that an unknown gentleman asked of me
A lock of my hair
...

You must visit Balaji temple once
about a crore people
tonsure their heads there annually
In peak season
...

Hair
Black hair
White hair
Yellow hair
...