User Info
Yesterday's Top
Donations
 GotPoetry is a community supported site.
Due Date:
May 31
May Goal:
180.00
Gross Amount:
0.00
PayPal Fees:
0.00
Net Balance:
0.00
Below Goal:
180.00
Site Currency:
USD
|
Poems - Sore Thumb
| | Sore Thumbby greygrynn
I’m here getting’ my hair cut
But, MAN, such a pretty day outside.
Apple crisp De Soto Texas air under a
Mercedes Benz powder-blue sky.
Yet I sit and wait for my turn in “The Chair” as
My butt numbs on thin, worn, dollar-green vinyl.
I can’t help it. I think “What am I doin’ here?”
Lion tanned paw rest light on little mans’ tiny,
Tootsie Roll hued head. Bright, blue-black eyes
Scrunch and winch “How come it don’t hurt?”
trimmers just buzzing away. His look, hard and
baby accountant sharp.
We all breathe that same hair tonic laced air,
enjoying the, gentle, warm, comradery of
skin, flesh and bone, big sound thumping
from an unseen radio.
Sit quietly, awaiting my turn in “The Chair”,
but very alone in my plane-thoughts and
Jane-smooth, suburban, two story life.
Their royal purple carpets unfurl, pleasant,
languid flow, no drag. “My home and set. Not yours.”
I sit, a strange light skinned match-stick,
awash in a sea of dark leather,
rust-red-gold fueled experience,
grape-granite strength within.
Warm-soak in the kindness and simple calm,
We all wait our turn in the
“Worn-Dollar-Bill-Green” barbers chair.
Black crackin’ staccato alight humor,
“Where’s my cookie….?” and hours
turn to minutes with each bump and riposte.
Chew-backs buttressed with quiet laughter and
“Boy’s just not right” head-shakes.
Is this what Mogadishu was before the madness
Swept all the poets into Somalia’s vast, drift-wood
tan, desert crematorium? Could Beirut never happen
if its barber shops stayed open? – “No guns allowed!”
an unseen breeze, clatter-raps small twigs and dirt
against our bright-clear window.
Still, I wait for my turn, quite calm and enjoying
More minute-by-minute banter knowing – I’ll not
see the priest behind bars for last rites,
gurney time, three drips and gone.
Relax and close my eyes knowing plate glass
window will not guss away in a stuttery spray
of pencil-lead dull, semi-auto gun fire.
We all continue to sit and wait calmly, patiently
For our turn in the worn, dollar-bill green leather,
Barbers chair.
| |
 
| "Sore Thumb" | Login/Create an Account | 3 |
|
|
| The comments are owned by the poster. We aren't responsible for their content. |
|
i love this one. i u
(Score: 1 )
by Mayo on Monday, June 16, 2008 (11:34:38) |
i love this one. i used to go with my daddy while he got his hair cut in a classic old style barbershop. bill the barber. i loved sitting in that place.
 |
We still have them h
(Score: 1 )
by badmalthus on Tuesday, June 24, 2008 (08:44:03) |
We still have them here in Adelaide gg.
Nice write........Harry
 |
Pretty amazing detai
(Score: 1 )
by maryanns on Wednesday, July 30, 2008 (01:20:48) |
Pretty amazing detail, but the mood generted, like an old movie but I can't remember which, I have to think on it. Killin' time, daydream. Enjoyed it, GG. Regards, Mary Ann
 Added on: 16-May-2008 | Hits: 653 |
 |
01: fogglethorpe
- Use an RSS reader to stay up to date with the latest news and posts from GotPoetry.
You can syndicate other parts of our site using the following files:
