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Monday, December 5, 2016

The Sound of Hair

By: Ymatruz | Filed under: |

Dear fellas, this poem is meant to be fun. Someone challenged me to write a poem about the sound of hair, and his conditions were: keep the title as it is and use his idea for the ending lines.

The sound of hair? Really??

Pride of my heir, the sound of hair long rejoiced in silence, in weightless whisper.

The sound of hair clashed
with the rays of broiling sun,
interfered the acoustic waves.
Sinuous king motioned
the whistling wind – blow more
until the leaves fell off,
the roots lifted from earth,
and the sound of hair thinned,
ceased playing harp and
violin with his friends.

The sinewed shape of my petals
like a pigtail, welded bones
of my youth, pride of my heir,
the sound of hair long rejoiced
in silence, in weightless whisper,
the pigment of his soul.

Goodbye was a friendly foe.
The sound of hair's delicate heart,
called the trumpet in the breeze,
together they sang, the rhythmic
sway, that of the resistant trees.

Today, I want to scream
the sound of hair
and gasp for breath,
to the beat
of his lighthearted music...




But I'm bald.

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