30 Days of Beard

The last couple of poems I posted were pretty feminine, so I thought I would give you a fresh perspective this time around.  I wrote this poem during the crazy season at work using testimonials from my male coworkers.  I hope you enjoy this piece =)

30 Days of Beard

Leaving at dawn,
returning at dusk,
my life has become
a blur.

Day after day,
night after night,
the second hand moves,
the beard grows longer.

Little by little,
patches of hair
come to life.
I know myself
no more.

Staring in the mirror,
I see someone
who’s not quite me,
for HE
is hairy.

I want to grab
a razor, a knife
to slice
it off
cuz it itches,
so I scratch it.

I find it annoying,
but I keep toying
with it.

I rub it,
I scrub it,
I poke it,
I stroke it.

It’s my stubble
of knowledge,
or so I think.

“You look homeless,”
they say,
but who are they
to me?

An aura of manhood,
harboring strength
and warmth,
connecting me
with my father,
my brothers, my ancestors.
Bam, bam…
I am caveman.

Outside, it is drizzly,
I can wrestle a grizzly
anytime.

But not today,
for today,
I will shave.

Little by little,
the hair
drifts away,
taking my memories
with it.

Now…
smooth and clean-shaven,
I am handsome
once more.

I look at the mirror
and I feel empty
inside.

After Shaving

 

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3 thoughts on “30 Days of Beard

  1. I will admit when my barber trimmed my beard screwed up so i had to go clean shaved i did sense like an emptiness or disturbance like if i was robbed. A beard truly does become a part of you.

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