Poem -

I stand proud with pride...

I stand proud with pride...

exuding suave debonair air
plus head and shoulders taller
(than the empire state building -
hey what's a little hyperbole, eh?)
since September eleventh
two thousand and twenty four,
which date marked a major change
(yes folks - more important
than getting married)
during threescore and five years
incorporating mein kampf
voluntarily (and without bribery,
but with liberty and justice for all)
to maintain a scheduled appointment
at Salon Nova,
an upscale hair cutting/styling boutique
located at 377 W Ridge Pike A,
Limerick, Pennsylvania 19468.

This recently unkempt
aging married sexagenarian
and solitudinarian sultan of swing
long haired pencil neck geek
self adopted behavior modification
particularly regarding maintaining
personal hygiene of mine
woke as if from somnambulant state
and kept promise to himself.

About twelve inches of brown tresses
got cut off courtesy in a small number
of fell swoops videre licet,
whereby the beautician
amazingly gracefully brandished scissors and brush
immediately creating lightness of being
which locks of brunette strands
tinged with gray
got donated to a charity
that repurposes hair
into wigs for various
and sundry purposes,
thus empowered
to contribute a part of myself
that will grow back -
(yet... I WILL NOT GO BACK
thank you Kamala Harris for birthing phrase
TO PRESENTING SLOVENLY APPEARANCE)
in gentle waves
cascading down to my knees
as happened umpteen times
during mein kampf,
the first instance
of revolutionary physical transformation
occurred when yours truly
a mere stripling of a pubescent teen
receiving psychiatric treatment
from Ted Goldberg,
(who prescribed both mellaril and elavil),
and he patiently nursed psyche of mine
severely afflicted with anorexia nervosa
in tandem with
obsessive compulsive disorder
tied with exaggerated fixation with hair,
which characteristic donning my noggin
became the most important reason for living,
I would sooner have died than get a haircut,
(spoiler alert, I did not die nor kill myself),
yet interestingly enough
he accompanied me
to a local barber in Collegeville,
who did the deed done dirt cheap,
yet I invariably returned to being
a long haired pencil neck geek
plodding along the boulevard of broken dreams,
where according to Fiona Apple
The Idler Wheel Is Wiser
Than the Driver of the Screw
and Whipping Cords Will Serve You
More Than Ropes Will Ever Do.

All kidding aside,
said voluntary makeover undertaken
cause unnecessary emotional energy
and quite a chunk of time
invested lavishly shampooing hirsute pate,
and subsequently applying blow dryer
to fluff up ample mane,
that gnarly retched ma tailbone - ha!
Another significant reason
spurring long overdue decision
to present a handsome chap,
albeit modesty prevents excessive
self adulation, ejaculation (not premature),
ego inflation, amplitude
and attitude modulation of same
to disallow being snickered at
as if I happen to be from Mars.

Sorry keeping a figurative straight poker face
born this way, thus
impossible mission for this word punster,
jokester, and grandmaster without a super plan.

Yours truly (me) made long overdue transition
from schlep to mensch.
 

Like 1 Pin it 0
Support CosmoFunnel.com

Support CosmoFunnel.com

You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.

Poem -

Renaissance man feels blasé...

Renaissance man feels blasé faire

Renaissance man feels blasé faire, nevertheless he promised to rescue a damsel in distress (locked up...

Poem -

I could never imagine...

I could never imagine...

within wildest dreams of mine
(a side affect from
one or more
of the nine prescription...

Poem -

Yours truly a tried and...

Yours truly a tried and true (no Keaton) Philly buster

boot not so suburb (superb)
Prone to bloviation pure and simple
rides on figurative high...

Latest poems in Drama, Elegy, Epic, Freestyle, Speculative

Poem -

Peter Pan MIA

Peter Pan MIA

The siren blares

Robbing me of dream completion

The abusive Clock I labor for
and...

Poem -

THE GRAY MAN

THE GRAY MAN

This land, that I have always loved,
stands on my shoulders with cold edges,
so, I cannot...

Poem -

Losing You

The days are becoming shorter
The nights are becoming longer

I'd give you my strength...

Advertise on CosmoFunnel.com