Bad Bed Head Hair Day (April 15, 2019)

https://planetmoore.wordpress.com/2009/02/03/bad-hair-day

Argh!

There are mornings

Which I wish

I could shave my head

Like Sinead O’Connor did.

Honestly

I spent 10 minutes

Trying to curb

This tangled mess

That I call

My head of hair.

Pulling out

Large clumps of hair

With multiple knots

In my wide tooth comb.

You think

I’ve never use

A comb or brush

Ever before.

Regardless

Of its length

Or the lack of.

My hair has

One-track mind

When it comes

To obeying my wishes:

Never!!!

Think

It gleefully laughs

At my futile attempts

To restore order.

Worsening

The growing mess

I call hair.

Knowing

I should walk away.

As the scissors are

Just moments away

From slicing through

My Gordian knot.

Laying waste

To several years

Of growing this mess

Upon the bathroom floor.

As I fight back

The tears

At this mental image

In my mind’s eye.

Damn you

Hair!!

Therisa © 2019

Author’s note: A challenge that Annell Livingston sent me. To write a poem in 20 minutes, regardless, of grammar, spelling or how the words flow. This is my answer to the challenge. And yes, I am having a horribly bad bedhead hair day.

Oops. Did My Hair Hiss? (April 19, 2016)

Please

Pardon me.

But

My hair is

A royal mess.

My long mane

Flowing off

In all direction

Like Medusa's.

Each strand

Having

Its own mind.

Caring not

What I want.

Regardless

Of its length

Or the lack of.

Unlike

Medusa's locks

You'll won't turn

Into stone

By me.

But

A stylist or two

Has been known

To been cut

By my tresses.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: In the cold midday wind, my hair was flowing, all over the place, as I walked to the subway station, from a nearby library branch, for an appointment, with my new diabetic nurse and nutritionist.