Friday, August 3, 2007

Poem: Cowlick

Oh please, do I have to bring it up again?
Some pesky little things ya just live with.
And long as I can remember, my cowlick
Was always there. Yeah, I didn’t wake up
One morning fightin' off a rough tongue
Caress from some overly passionate cow!
I wasn’t born in a barn, ya know. (But it
Sure would make a sweet storyline, though.)
Nope, I guess I came out the chute that way.

Yup, never asked for damned pointy-up hair,
Right in front, and refusin' to lie down and
Act respectable. Yeah, cowlicks can surely
Be kinda embarrassin' sometimes. I mean,
Bad hairs goin' the wrong direction aren’t
What you want to talk about with nice folks,
Except maybe your Barber. Shucks, I tried
Special haircuts, gels and the like, but it
Always liked to fight back, given a chance.

Now I hoped maybe one day, after a few
Years of trainin', it might somehow conform
To my persistent combing and secret prayers.
Nope, it never happened. My cowlick still
Insists on going its own way, so to say.
Just because everyone else’s hair acts all
Normal like, don’t mean my rebellion hair
Wants to grow anywhere but straight up.
Try as I might, it just likes projectile location.

So what to do? Chop it off? No freakin' way!
Why should a cowlick matter, anyways?
Guess I’ll accept it the way it is and enjoy it.
Actually, to be honest (for once), I’ve grown
Rather fond of my old friend, that cowlick.
Hell, it’s a unique part of me that demands
A little extra attention, but ya know what?
At least I still got a full head of hair, which is
More than some high-minded folks can say.


.

3 comments:

John Gustav-Wrathall said...

*chuckle*

GeckoMan said...

Yestereday in church, a young couple sat in front of us with a cute little tow-headed boy with a great big cowlick right in front. He's only about 18 months old, and sure had a mind of his own. I thought, what a challenge they're going to have molding his strong little spirit into something he can manage for himself! Finally the Dad took him out and we didn't see him for the rest of the meeting.

I don't really have a problem with conformance to God's commandments. Rules and structure have a place in shaping the chaos of our lives. There is safety in obedience to truth. (And running wild never helped anyone be happy.) What I like is the choice of how I keep the commandments. If I try something and it doesn't work, then I can change, try again, and hopefully do better. What I detest is the hard-line dictatorial attitude that says there's only one way to do something, the right way, which happens to be my way. Screw that! Am I cranky or what?

My favorite line of the poem is: "Guess I’ll accept it the way it is and enjoy it." This is referring to the gay lense through which I interpret the world, not about sex. It's when we begin to love ourselves for who we are, quirks and all, that we begin to have a better time at the party of life.

John Gustav-Wrathall said...

In the LDS view, it was Lucifer who was striving for complete, dictatorial control of our every thought and action, not God.

Sometimes those cowlicks in our lives -- whatever they may be -- are God's way of reminding us to experience the amazing power of life that is unleashed when we can manage to find the right balance between acceptance of things the way they are and submission to a higher purpose.