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"garnier" poems
dear future partner, i am sorry to inform you that you can’t run your fingers through my hair it isn’t silky or smooth like a tall white girl in a brightly colored Garnier commercial but try running through the fields of mind, approach gently at each thought that greets you touch sweetly, for every dream you unfold is delicate, easily molded by those who refuse to slow down for me glide carefully as you discover unwanted spots in my brain, left by other travelers who I mistakenly allowed to begin a journey within me you can’t run your fingers through my hair, but you can traverse freely through my memories as they roll off of my tongue and onto yours feel the wind rush past my ears as my lips take you back through time and space until your own mind begins to latch onto memories of mine. a child on a swing. kicking back her legs and greeting the sky with a smile, unknowing and unfearing of all obstacles ahead of her. you can’t run your fingers through my hair without pulling back a weird mixture of coconut oil, leave in conditioner, and whatever product is still there before wash day but run your hands carefully on my skin listen to the sounds of my scars as they whisper stories unable to escape my throat appreciate the too soft or too rough, too loose or too tough parts of my body as they welcome you to me and when it seems as if there’s no running left, come close. lay your head on my chest; feel me rise and fall as I try to my fingers through you.
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Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 10:02 AM UTC
You Can’t Run Your Fingers Through My (4c)) Hair
dear future partner, i am sorry to inform you that you can’t run your fingers through my hair it isn’t silky or smooth like a tall white girl in a brightly colored Garnier commercial but try running through the fields of mind, approach gently at each thought that greets you touch sweetly, for every dream you unfold is delicate, easily molded by those who refuse to slow down for me glide carefully as you discover unwanted spots in my brain, left by other travelers who I mistakenly allowed to begin a journey within me you can’t run your fingers through my hair, but you can traverse freely through my memories as they roll off of my tongue and onto yours feel the wind rush past my ears as my lips take you back through time and space until your own mind begins to latch onto memories of mine. a child on a swing. kicking back her legs and greeting the sky with a smile, unknowing and unfearing of all obstacles ahead of her. you can’t run your fingers through my hair without pulling back a weird mixture of coconut oil, leave in conditioner, and whatever product is still there before wash day but run your hands carefully on my skin listen to the sounds of my scars as they whisper stories unable to escape my throat appreciate the too soft or too rough, too loose or too tough parts of my body as they welcome you to me and when it seems as if there’s no running left, come close. lay your head on my chest; feel me rise and fall as I try to my fingers through you.
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Keep-A-Breast Apple OtterBox Acu-Rite Dial Aquafresh Oral-B ACT Garnier Equate Hanes On the Byas Rude Toms Dakine Acu-Vue Ponds Degree Preferred Stock Mighty Wallet Hot Topic Keurig Dixie Donut Shop Domino International Delight Peter Paul's Best Yet Great Value Instagram Facebook Snapchat Yik Yak Forever 21 Adventure Time FSC Bic The Poetry Foundation Staedtler Pilot Sharpie Microsoft The Norton Anthology Toshiba Dell Expo Lipton Emerica Anti Hero MOB Shorty's Bones Thunder Shake Junt Swingline Pandora Tommy Hilfiger ' Jill Greg Ashley Courtney Judy Bob Janice Shannon Kelly Robert Emily Jeremy Darrin Liza Bill Joe Dominic Sean James Gav Jordan Tony Eric Christopher
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Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 8:38 PM UTC
Brands
not here, here, here -eyes closed- a bath rub filled with bubbles shaped like balloons rising in the air her heart cut open, she can’t preclude the secret nature of her love and, he loved her, he loved her he watched her every ballet she danced a butterfly moving on tiptoes tripping the light en pointe with painted pale lips, winged eyeliner silk Lacroix corset and feathered tutu performing Swan Lake at the Palais Garnier the promised faery tale ballets graceful movements to Tchaikovskys’s compositions, telling the story of Odette drowning in the lake falling to her fate -KNOCK- not here, here, here -eyes open- his voice; Laurier her soul; punctured by her lover a locked bathroom door she kisses away her melancholy madness not here, here, here © Sia Jane
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Sep 7, 2015
Sep 7, 2015 at 10:25 AM UTC
Pink Cotton Candy
Boris likes to stroke his Mogg Merkel loves a hot Macron David Davis hates to Barnier Keir Starmer gels with Garnier May adores her slimy Gove While Corbyn woos the Abbott Liz Truss? Such angry sourpuss Herself to champion loudly fuss And Greening's not for leaning Against the Brexit so opposed Sajid wants a blimp of Trump Which has given Donald the **** Whilst in the gilt historic chair We’ve a bent partisanal ****** Cash grabbing John the squeaker Bercow! How in hell are you still Speaker? Now when speaking of selfish greed Travel. Duck houses. Second homes, and such Let’s remember; as not to would be unfair That glib arrogant war-monger; Blair I’ve had enough of all of them The Blunts. The Hunts. The useless… Pieces of flotsam and jetsom Don’t even start me on Leadsom! ©pofacedpoetry (Billy Reynard-Bowness 2018 – All rights reserved)
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
TO LAMPOON THE BUFFOONS
Garnier. The shampoo that makes you put your hands in the air and scream and shout because you like the smell of your hair. Disaster strikes when you find you've emptied your share. So next day, you hurry back to the dragon's lair, only to find a sign that says, "Buy one, get one free, if you dare." You wonder why it doesn’t say, “Ferocious beast. Beware.” Suddenly, you hear something scampering – a hare. The beast is approaching. You escape but end up taking the pair. You emerge from the shops feeling like royalty – the heir to the magnificent and brilliant throne of Garnier. Something strange is happening. You can feel it, on skin so fair, with the wind chilling you to the bones and frizzing your hair. Your ****** features tell it all, a reaction like that is rather rare. In fact, one man notices you and continues to stare. Sensing eyes, you turn around, see the man and glare. You believe that men have no manners, something you should declare. Yet many oppose your sentiments. They have faith in the mayor, albeit they complain about the bus fare. Return to reality. Why is it, your body feels bare? Glancing at the empty bottle in your hand; a picture of a mare and some words. You read it out loud, “Take care. Garnier”.
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Aug 11, 2016
Aug 11, 2016 at 4:43 AM UTC
Garnier
One day I'll be able to shower in peace And start the day with thoughts of me Not you. One day - soon - When you're out of my head and far away, And I'm alone with the shampoo, I'll try to savour unsolicited solitude. I don't think I'll be sad, Do you? Besides, the shower's a little small for two.
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Jan 10, 2014
Jan 10, 2014 at 6:35 PM UTC
Garnier