"barbers" poems
To end up alone
in a tomb of a room
without cigarettes
or wine--
just a lightbulb
and a potbelly,
grayhaired,
and glad to have
the room.
...in the morning
they're out there
making money:
judges, carpenters,
plumbers, doctors,
newsboys, policemen,
barbers, carwashers,
dentists, florists,
waitresses, cooks,
cabdrivers...
and you turn over
to your left side
to get the sun
on your back
and out
of your eyes.
from "All's Normal Here" - 1985
32.7k
Haircut
Strands of hair unruly way
Hair cut an adventure of the day
Scrolling through the models on book
pictures in mind to decide the look
Hair cut an adventure of the day
Through the times in a different way
young ones cry of the barbers scissor
A grim look of teen in the mirror
every hair cut in the heart a terror
Good or bad an haircut is an adventure
pety
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 11:40 PM UTC
Are there lawyers in heaven?
who sells fish in a Seven-Eleven?
How do you prove guilt or innocence,
with the devil conspicuous in his absence?
Are there barbers or pastors in Heaven?
Until the End-of-Days, it is unproven;
If we are to do some speculation,
Better to do more charitable donations.
But one profession, I quite understand,
whether in hell or God's Disneyland,
that will not make a good living;
that's doing double entry accounting.
So where do accountants go, you ask;
now you really need an oxygen mask;
In hell, in heaven, or anywhere you look,
there's just no place to cook the books.
Someone may now ask about exorcists,
I hate to answer, but I just can't resist;
ask your grandma or grandpa,
they are in a real big dilemma.
In heaven, no demons to trouble you,
In hell, there are more than quite a few;
In heaven, all are good, so no originality,
In hell, who works for nothing for Eternity?
Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 5:09 AM UTC
We, the people of this country, in your eyes are:
babblers, bachelors, bafflers, baiters, barkers,
beakers, beaters, brawlers, blamers, beggars,
bloaters, bloopers, bombers, boozers, blunders,
bruisers, bafflers, bluffers, burglars and burners.
That's why you feel compelled to keep your foot on our heads
keep us down, put us down, push us down
subjugate us, belittle us, berate us.
We, the people of this country, in our eyes are:
butlers, bouncers, bakers, buyers, barbers,
cake-makers, delivery-takers, cocktail-shakers,
taxi drivers, cancer survivors, employers and hirers,
music makers, entertainers, window washers, foster takers,
plasterers, carpenters, scaffolders, sparks and builders,
boxers, carers, coaches, tailors, shoe makers,
designers, illustrators, multi-language facilitators,
dog walkers, dog trainers, bikers and cycle couriers,
doctors and nurses and all the emergency services.
We are the People, the reason you are where you are now
you sometimes forget that we exist as people, somehow
locked in your ivory towers with gold plated showers
and MP expenses and investment banker pretenses
this is not theater, its real life drama, its not just a bluff
its time to stand up
and say enough is enough.
Jun 27, 2014
Jun 27, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
"The Nymphs are departed"
says Elliot,
the nymphs are departed,
so, all the barbers dumped their tools into the lake out of the village,
because all men will grow beard,
the homosexuality of the high ends of the streets,
is stuck to the heel of that transgender like a dust,
you can not shake your head if you have combed your hair neatly,
and your impotency is revealed,
you reach to the tree running, and fall like a chestnut,
your hands are still blue from the act of last night,
there is no question that you will be accused,
for the name sake there are some shovering forests,
at the every rough turn of the streets,
you can only enter with your grown beard,
there is only one riddle to solve,
"why did the nymphs depart?"
Mar 20, 2012
Mar 20, 2012 at 5:18 PM UTC
So my hair
was getting
really long
so I went
to the barber shop
with the lady barbers
and told her
to give me
a businessman's haircut
which I used to call
normal style
and she cut off
most of my hair
and shaved my neck
with a straight razor
and I thought
that it was great
but now
my hair stands up
in the back
so I look like
Alfalfa
(if you remember him)
without the grease.
Jan 22, 2012
Jan 22, 2012 at 12:17 PM UTC
I arrive at the barbers
for my weekly, my usual,
and you are there,
sitting in my seat
crying. I lift you up,
cape and all,
take you round the
corner, where you tell
me you are sorry
but we have to go to
Brighton now, even
though it is 6pm on
a Friday and we won’t
be done until 2pm
tomorrow. Is it a ruse?
I think so, because
suddenly we are in a
part of London that
looks like Montmartre
(or it could be Richmond
masquerading as Venice)
and we meet a man
called Tricks who says
he’s the new chief now
because he knows the
location of all the bones.
And then there are
scanners at airports,
walk-in health centres,
families in North Carolina
with names like Kayleigh
and Shauna. And when
we are done meeting
them we are back, you
in the chair, glowing blue
under barbicide lights.
Dec 1, 2010
Dec 1, 2010 at 4:10 AM UTC
Walk in the door
Notice all the sports themed wall
The barber shop full of gossip
Waiting your turn
The barbers says next
Sit in the chair
tell the barber how do the hair style
He covers you
Snips and trims
Razor cuts and high fades
Shows you the work with a mirror
Pay your fee leave a tip
Dusts you off sends you on the ways
Come back haircut can fix you any day
Feb 16, 2013
Feb 16, 2013 at 3:34 AM UTC
addressing my southpaw weakness...
don't know... my left hand is a bit...
weak...
started to train it...
by extinguishing cigarette
butts on each other knuckles...
have two vacant slots to fill...
and plenty of whiskey...
why?
i paid my Shylock...
i was **** with the Gorbachev
**** on my right shoulder blade...
now comes the fun part!
the lesson...
of boxing, with not boxing gloves!
i want the middle finger knuckle
to... hurt... the... the most...
like Tom Waits'
circus narrative...
**** these teenage girls cutting...
how about their start burning
themselves,
with hot, metallic objects?
how's that?
less blood!
ha ha!
two knuckles down...
two to go...
i'm giggling with anticipation...
while, i, eat,
the, pain! ha ha!
who gives a **** about
predictability,
preachers / theologians
or stock brokers?
so who?
the Turkish barbers,
the English tailors,
the French chefs?!
who?
the roof, the roof,
the roof is on fire,
let the ************ burn...
we don't don't need no
water let the ************ burn,
let the ************ burn...
i'm a simpleton...
catch the genie... catch the lamp
sort of scenario...
otherwise?
bon voyage / bon soir /
mon amí!
god, i hate the french!
it's like...
you want to lick them...
face to face...
and then... punch them...
my type of ****** nationalism!
comes the third knuckle...
and the cigarette...
it will be put out onto!
- like an interrogator might...
you show the victim undergoing
the torture, with yourself
prior...
and then?
torture the **** out of them! ha ha!
i.e. who's the buckle,
who's the knuckle, and who's the knee?!
oh please! please!
don't mention the oysters
of the elbow!
have some common decency!
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 8:52 PM UTC
.*but i wasn't obviously going to go far down this "worrisome" route for too long, maybe like ten minutes... i had to think of something relaxing to do... i looked in the mirror: **** the wild-man of Essex! beard, shaggy, the neck barely visible... hair like Mozart composing, or as the Poles say: hair like a wkuriony Chopin ****** off Chopin)... **** better do something about it... ah... there's only one thing that can lighten my mood and this whole, tirade... a visit to the local traditional Turkish barbers... so i ****** off... in went the wild-man of Essex... out came well-groomed human being, not a sign of his werewolf past to be seen on him... ah... this is the 4th time, proper, that i visited the barbers (prior to? long hair... after? a shaved head like a Buddhist monk)... god... just sitting there with closed eyes... i'm starting to think that going to the barbers is better than ***
i was never into blocking someone,
esp. if someone is liking your stuff,
but it happened to me with
that poetess on here,
i wanted to know how it feels,
to just randomly block someone
who really enjoys your stuff...
and then... **** gone, never
to be seen again...
Wattpad is basically a fascistic website
to boot this thread of thought...
who the hell gets booted off a platform
for starting a cordial conversation?
- but i really did wake up with
a moral hangover...
excuses?
irritability...
there's just a certain level of
conversation i can take,
i can't get the pedant
out of me... i really can't...
i tried and i tried,
notably because when speaking
to natives, i see them lazily doing this
or that, while i come with an acquisitive
perspective, hence the furthered
acquisitive impetus to further this
acquired language... while the natives
are like: blah... it has been given to them
from birth...
and conversations,
after having completed a...
well for me it was an exhausting poem,
the desire to finish it before off
the rails with the bourbon instigated
a thirst, matched with irritability...
**** i hope i can unblock the guy
and apologize...
spare of the moment thing...
well... if i can't...
i know what it feels like:
not being on the receiving end...
so... that's one plus from all of this.
p.s. that sort of direct messaging language,
aged... 40?
how can i talk to someone
who's older than me, on that level...
(looks up his profile page)...
huh?
so i didn't block him?
*Dennis Willis's profile is not
visible because they have blocked you.*
and i still have the block option
handy...
mind you... i didn't wake up today
recollecting some pretty
trippy ********
Nov 21, 2018
Nov 21, 2018 at 6:33 PM UTC
A crazy ************
got in my face
the other day.
"This is my shop!,
I put the work in this ************
see ya'll young people come in here
trying to mess up my shop,
this is MY SHOP!"
"Mmhmm," a fat ****
in the corner affirmed.
Crazy *************
are often your
barbers.
He's pulled this **** before,
I've seen him do it.
He'll just throw the clippers down
and get in somebody's face,
while they flip dumbly through
Sports Illlustrated.
It's funny as hell.
He had spittle
in cakes at the corners of his mouth
that wiggled
like eggs on an unbalanced beam
and fat lips that looked
like rotten peach slivers;
all brown and ugly pink.
He's in his forties and stumpy.
But all he ever does is yell.
I punched him
right in his lips.
His teeth were hard and scratched my knuckles,
but he backstepped,
gave me one of those crazy people
"I might just cut your head off" looks
and walked to the bathroom to clean himself up.
Crazy *************
think
they're the crazier than everybody else.
Dec 23, 2011
Dec 23, 2011 at 9:28 AM UTC
Yeah
well I sat in the barbers chair while you walked up and down the crowded aisles in a half deserted Tesco store
I wondered why
what was it for?
The freezer stood alone at home
freezing cold as was its wont but it was stacked with want me nothing more at all
for it was full up to its freezing chin
with something brought from albuquerque
and two fifths of London Gin.
The barber gave a weirdly grin and gave me one of number two
I should have fekin known that's what the little *** would do
but you just wandered round and did you see that skinhead passing by the deli' counter?
that was me
I waved atop my fresh shaved head
but I was dead meat on the cooked meat and it shook me wide awake
I need to take a breather
might even leave her
she would not care
she's got Tesco's in her brain and not to mention in her hair with apple summer fresh smell,how much dumber can one get
well if I stick about just watch this space
look out for the smiling vacant face
that will be me
taking her
to do her hair
just like mine.
Jun 28, 2013
Jun 28, 2013 at 11:41 AM UTC
rows and rows of decadence
chocolate covered dreams
gold and purple velvet
exotic coffee steams
haute coutre on sterling racks
staffed by aphrodite
cherry blossoms in the air
art to serve the mighty
gilded goblets fat with rubies
thick potions to control
ivory pipes on opal stands
pink smoke from their bowls
mahogany and marble
amber glass aglow
tinkling diamond chandeliers
funiture art nouveau
elixirs and magic rings
magenta fire in a jar
thick and heavy gold
tiffany eggs for the czar
pastel parisian cakes
hand stitched italian shoes
hornback crocodile leather
master barbers fine shampoos
bespoke tailor in a corner
adonis with fine liqueur
any delicacy or art
for any type connoisseur
richly wrapped and waiting
your opulent desires
soak them drink them in
bask in their fires
all priceless things
based on human lies
worth less than dust
compared to love in
someone’s eyes
Dec 14, 2013
Dec 14, 2013 at 11:20 AM UTC
Down at the barbershop where the
upbeat finesse fills the scene,
hypnotic basslines and smoking beats
rise from the radio into the
jazzy air.
Various boys and men come
by to get close haircuts, fresh
fades, and dope designs.
Harmonic flows travel across
the shimmering space, bright
waves of excellent taste, a
thrilling serenity of light,
as the barbers create magic
in the brilliant place.
Biggie’s lyrical anthem, Big Poppa,
blazes around the room,
hip-hopping jams full of
deep spins and breaking booms.
Groovy barbers rap to the beat,
spitting fire flaming diction
in glowing dimension, marching
in glorious rhythms, as the
whole masterpiece becomes
a supersonic sea of incessant
boogying and wavy arms,
snapping ankles and dancing
feet, an engine racing extravagance
moving in high flight.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 12:33 PM UTC
due to
a propensity
in each
to apply
face paint
while disoriented
my father
routinely
changes barbers.
because I believe
in the apocalypse
I swallow cologne
to silence
my blood.
it should be harder
to be happy.
I give you my sister
who has tried to flush
her prosthetic
nose.
Nov 23, 2014
Nov 23, 2014 at 7:36 PM UTC
Sitting and waiting patiently
partaking in the spirited conversation
where no subject is off limits
Being mindful and yet having
respect for other opinions
I bite my tongue on occasion
My turn to reside in the over
stuffed reclining man throne
of exterior rejuvenation
Clippers cut, taper and edge
piping hot towels & warm cream
for the straight razor finish
Touched up with the burn of
ice blue Barbasol and talc wisk
finished by a crisp towel snap
A slow chair spin with the mirror
for a 360 view of barbers work
and confirm his skilled perfection
Payment rendered with a generous
tip on the DL while biding good day
to all patrons until next time.
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 4:52 AM UTC
harsh wind
barbers rows of sunflowers:
yellow carpet laid
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 12:33 AM UTC
and at the end of this session, i'm going to gorge on homemade banana cake, and a glass of milk; hmm, so that's that.
hannah hallysem, chloe vevrier, rosalia verne, dakota skye, nadine jansen, milena d., katrina jade, alison tyler, sasha foxxx, noelle easton, shay fox, kourtney kane, aletta ocean, lexi belle, aria giovanni, maritza mendez, silvia loret, laura lion, ashley graham, latex lucy, alexis texas, dana dearmond, abella danger, karmen karma, jezebelle bond, keisha grey, karmen grey, jelena jensen, carmen croft, aneta buena, ines cudna, ewa sonnet, emma green, louisa marie, ivy nedkova, karolina pliskova, emma green, louisa marie, ivy nedkova, rooney mara, claire forlani, kelley scarlett, malina may, amirah adara, phoenix marie, foxy di., kenya lust, kiera winters, christy mack, paige delight, faith nelson, darya klishina, sand morris, alysha newman, silvia saint, adele stephens, deven davis, ewa wyrwal, tanya song, synn wagner, christina lucci, hunter leigh, lynda leigh, gemma atkinson, mulani rivera, sarah harding...
all those "expectations" mingling with a babuska...
gotta have a babuska after a list like that...
looks nice, doesn't it?
see how honest other people can become...
that's as honest as you're going to get:
i'm hardly an out-of-the-closet gay / intellectual...
and this is hardly the most desireds genetical "encyclopedia"
worth reciting...
but at least there's no closet,
and certainly no skeleton in it...
to be honest, i'd love to see a compendium of
a woman's favourite *****
oh sure, i can switch off...
i just start thinking about cow *******
and milk sacks; not that hard;
ugh... furr... itchy... stroking a cow is like
scratching your skin after the barbers...
milking a cow: ah... another subject
of investigation...
why do men not bother being
breast-fed, to out-compete the babe?
seems a shame to leave a vacuum for
capitalism to not investigate, don't you think?
Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 10:01 PM UTC
I heard my barber say today
You think your situation is bad until you hear someone else’s story.
That’s when you realize your problems ain’t ****
Why did that make me feel better?
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 4:16 PM UTC
At ringend on june sixteenth nineteen hundred and four
Molly opens her door
and Literate Leopold plonks his kosher black pudding into her hand
Isn't it grand
to be remembered this way?
Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children
Searching for meat on O'Connel streeet that has the tang of scented *****
The well known literate degenerates
long to have their hot-dogs stroked by baaaaaaaaaarnacles
whilst sellin' knick-nack Paddywackery of dear old ***** dumpling
How do they walk with her sausages
and inner organs of beasts and fowls?
their shanks ****** dry of whuskey on Denny's big breakfast show
Well **** your **** With a flame-grilled
samuel
becket burger
and a side order
of oscar wilde fries
"warmth showered gently over him, cowing his flesh. Flesh yeilded amid rumpled clothes.
Whites of eyes swooning up. His nostrils arched themselves for prey. Melting breast ointments.
Armpits oniony sweat .
Fishgluey slime.
Feel!
Press!
Crushed!
Sulphur dung of lions
Young! Young!
In the petri-
Pish
Pish
Pish
Dish
spitoon culture
the illiteraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaati
hold a party
"I'm a tiny tiny thing
Ever flying in the spring
Round and round a ringaring
Long ago I was king
Now I do this kind of thing
On the wing, onnnnnnnn the wing!"
Bing!
Professor Latelate Lateshow Late review
Was talking to ME…….. about yew
What do yew think of that aesthetic crew?
The opal hush poets?
The master mystiks?
The wanz thit
*** to me
in the sma' oors
o the mournin'
tae ask aboot
plains o consciousness?
They're all Barbers, says he, from the Black Country that would hang their own fathers for five quid down and travelling expenses!
In Dublin's fine city
Where the wine bars are pretty
You can't find an ashtray
You must smoke alone.
Isn't it grand
To be remembered this way
Walking the streets and ******* the teats of the sow that eats its children?
Jun 15, 2019
Jun 15, 2019 at 7:00 PM UTC
I was walking along the sidewalk,
Near the shop windows, head down, empty minded.
A little face caught my eye,
At first I thought he looked on only in curiosity
But after a second glance, realised he
Was, in fact, in misery.
I force a smile upon my face
Crouch down to his level, mouthed
"Are you alright?"
From the other side of the Barbers window
A shake of the head, long hair whipping his face
"Help" he mouthed back
Tears sprung to his eyes
"I barely know you" I mouth back
"How can I help?"
"Get me out of here", his lips form back.
And a tear finally spilt from his eyelid.
"I already trust you".
"You don't know me",
Why do you want to leave"?
He ***** back his finger and mimes shooting himself.
"They are going to **** me".
I sit back on my haunches, thinking: You're kidding me.
His eyes deny my doubts, defy them with honesty.
His tears fall genuine, not like those of a crocodile
His face is framed by innocent light
His body shadowed, out of sight.
"Life is tough, kid", I barely manage to say
"That's a lesson you gotta learn.
I mean, how can I help you
When I can barely help myself?"
"My emotions are like a storm
My attitude, my mood, like dual personalities
I care for my ex, and have a kaleidoscope of feelings
For two different girls: one of light, one of dark
I feel guilty all the time
For they aren't in my control
And I have to decide one over the other
And yet one already knows!"
"I wish I could help you kid,
Save you from your inevitable doom
But I myself am no miracle
So tell me:
How can I help you?"
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 1:31 AM UTC
he s standing on the table
i'm looking up at him,
"this bar
the city
this city
isn t the place to lose your mind,"
I try to tell G..rge
Geo... only listens to sad songs
he's coming undone
he s been thrown
out of 3 bars
one bar twice
did 12 years in state,
said he loves her
"I only stabbed her with the steak knife in her thigh,
I wasn't trying to **** her,"
blames it on
the moon
"the gravitational pull...
we have water...
our bodies are 80 percent water,"
he says, " our brains...90
...the same thing
...happens to the tides."
his eyes rolling back and forth
adrift in that ocean
"...and why do barbers
always think
they need to talk to you..."
edged with sadness
his mind filled with ghosts
his x- wife runs around inside his head
like a mouse on a wheel
and the wind runs dancing through the trees
Jul 16, 2021
Jul 16, 2021 at 3:12 PM UTC
I am buying a lot of groceries
Down by the shopping mall
Buy CDs and records and cassettes
Down by the shopping mall
Buy a huge television set
Down by the shopping mall
Also buy a big double bed
Down by the shopping mall
Down by the shopping mall oh yeah
Feed ya face with food in the food court
Down by the shopping mall
Or go to a cafe for a toastie
Down by the shopping mall
Or a hamburger from grilled
Down by the shopping mall
Get a bottle of alcohol from Dan Murphys, mate
Down by the shopping mall
Get knick knacks from dollar pop
Smart dollar and regect shop
Down by the shopping mall
Or go to a material shop
To buy things for your craft
Or also making clothes
Down by the shopping mall
Go to k-mart or target
Down by the shopping mall
Down by the shopping mall oh yeah
Get your money to go overseas
Down by the shopping mall
Go to your doctors appointment
Down by the shopping mall
Get your medication from the chemist too
Down by the shopping mall
Get a haircut from barbers and hairdressers
Down by the shopping mall
Get your money from the bank ya see
Down by the shopping mall
Weigh ya self go to toilet and let your kids ride the toy car
Down by the shopping mall
That is the way of the world
Mar 26, 2025
Mar 26, 2025 at 6:15 AM UTC
Temper your judgement with
Mercy for failures. The
Ego's indulgent, but
Might's in our nature.
Night has no pity for
Street sleeping strangers, so
New clothes are given, warm
Sweet insulators.
Lions spill blood with their
Retracted razors, cut
Like barbers snipping hair
Red tongues licking *****
Trees prove that strength stems from
Powerful roots digging
Trenches in time succumb
Please be forgiving.
Dec 4, 2017
Dec 4, 2017 at 10:45 PM UTC