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Wilkes Arnold May 2021
I saw a man on the bus
With a shaggy beard
And a shaggy dog
His eyes twinkled before they closed
Then he burped
William Clifton Nov 2020
This question may seem weird
But have you seen my beard?
These nigh-on months it hides to my dismay

For in these COVID times
It slips easily from mind
And never has it seen the light of day

Each morning I have paused
To spy this ****** gauze
Then covered it and tucked it all away

I have kept it out of sight
While it’s turned from dark to white
I could fool reindeer and ride on Santa’s sleigh

But for now covered it stays
No white wool will reach your gaze
Until COVID’s gone, no ****** hair displays!
COVID-19 poetry
Joseph Rice Sep 2019
My Office

Veneer and gear cogs orbit my sky eyed bored writ
Face, fuzzy bottom trace rings masculine tell bells ‘cuz
I’m lazy, not hazy on congeniality or veneer reality.

This cube main lines fake hued bane mines and vain finds
Purchase on surface of brown turf dust or brick fur guts.
Veneer reality.
A B Faniki Sep 2019
Dear black Santa claus I have some wish
It is not as many as the hair on
your head as a matter of fact the wish
is about hair, you see my friend Malik has turn

nineteen last summer and up to now his face
is as smooth as a baby **** without a lick
of hair, Oh! black santa in your next phase
of trip and among your commodity of hair send malik

a beard, so that he won't be in despair
not that that is any business of mine and
please dear black Santa claus don't show this letter
to Saint Nicholas your counterpart with the white beard

I don't want him to accidentally send Malik a white
beard because that will freak him out.
AB Faniki © 9/8/2029 all right reserved  an attemp at humours piece using sonnet form I hope u enjoy it. It was supose to be part of my work banal tells.
Ragged mountains and rough terrains,
Withstanding storms and heavy rains.
Warm rays of sunshine bring light.
Bearing hues of black and white.

To the touch it feels like a freshly mowed lawn.
A promise of tummy tickling at dawn.
A relaxing walk in an uninhabited forest.
A tempestuous hike to the top of Everest.

You could be a renegade or a mad scientist
An investment banker or electric guitarist.
A biker's beard could be just as immaculate.
Rough as sandpaper or soft as velvet.
Beards
Jodie-Elaine Mar 2019
We talk politics in the shower.
You shampoo your beard,
I condition my armpit hair.
Good morning coffee breath.
I love you like a palindrome.
Tragic comedy, our physical love stretched
thin
over distance.
Endings always differ.
Moon circles scream it’s raining on me.
Serotonin’s been locked up for years, I put her somewhere safe.
Check you’re alive with a finger *****, comedy of errors sings an ode in my left ear.
Here
beard bristles
brush hair
light back catch
sensitivity sits
less lower lip
fold
selves
in
scene end
stage right
pick up towel
EXIT.
Collection: PERFORMANCE ARTIST POETRY AND BRAIN FARTS FOR UNSOLICITED MICROWAVE HEADS
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