In the mirror I look at a beard that took a year to grow
Patchy hair, at which I did stare, until it began to show
Told it looked like sin as it slowly filled in, grey and white
Hairs of sorrow, hope I did borrow, sunny days, calm and fright
Now its grown in, hairs of steel and tin some tarnished others bright
Each strand, a memory to understand, each marks life's fight
Some they are small others grow tall, colored black, white and grey
People don't want to see my history, bare your chin they say
To cut for the crowd what I am proud would be cruel betrayal
Hairs of gloss bent by loss twisted by pain, but hope did not fail
To throw away what can't be gained in a day born of travail
To cover a trembling chin when I couldn't win, my chainmail
Leonardo had one, so did God's son both looked just fine
Would you shave santa's face or Christ in his place what of mine
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Author:
sorenbarrett (
Online) - Published: August 24th, 2025 03:32
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 27
- Users favorite of this poem: Teddy.15, Demar Desu, Friendship, Cheeky Missy, Tristan Robert Lange
Online)
Comments11
I love this! My husband has a beard that's going white-grey it's beautiful. How very true you facial hair is part of you my friend all that you have weathered and all that you will weather. Such a beautiful sonnet, and absolutely not I would never ever shave father Christmas's beard it simply would be him. 💜
Thanks my friend for taking the time to review this piece and for your most supportive comment. As always it is most appreciated.
I was telling my wife yesterday how I wanted to trim my beard down. Now reading this poem I would rather grow it out. Thanks for the inspiration
Thanks Demar for your read and kind words of support. I appreciate it very much
Beautiful sonnet !
Thank you Priya for your review and kind words they are appreciated
You are most welcome !
God read, sorenbarrett. I grew a full beard once. My hair grows so haphazardly. Grows in some places and not in others: darts here and there, and it has a total mind of its own.
Thanks Jerry I do appreciate the review and read. Yes one's hair is ones personal signature and part of who they are. I've seen such terrible beards on some that I thought I would give it a try. Patience is the key for me.
Your poem "Bearded Sonnet" is a powerful exploration of the dynamic relationship between personal identity, societal expectations, and the passage of time, as embodied by the poet's beard. It serves as a testament to the transformative power of life experiences, struggles, and individuality, while fearlessly confronting societal norms that often seek to dictate personal appearance. Which explores the growth of the poet's beard over the course of a year, using it as a metaphor for the accumulation of memories, emotions, and life experiences. It celebrates themes of pride in one's identity, the tension between personal expression and societal pressure, and the resilience that comes from embracing one's unique journey. Overall serves as a commentary on the pressure to conform to societal norms regarding appearance and the importance of embracing one’s individuality and life experiences, as embodied by the beard. It challenges the notion of cutting away parts of oneself to fit in, advocating for pride in one’s history and identity.
Thank you Friendship for the review and interpretation that pretty well sums up the intent of the poem.
You're so welcome, my friend. Have an awesome day
Made me chuckle so ya did .. Here one just for thee sir ..
Shall I grow a beard for thee
A little Shakespeare one perchance
Or if you would I rather
I will sport a Che Guevara
If tho the thought has got ya thinkin
What about an old Abe Lincoln
Just a small one on my chin
Three hairs no more like Hoe Chi Min
Hans Lanseth’s beard was something else
He couldn’t fit it in his house
A Da Vince or Van Dyke maybe
More attractive tho just wait and see ..
Well Neville the chuckle was returned. Had a great grandfather that grew a chest length beard but the Rasputin style would never work for me. Thanks so much for the read and more so for the kind poem. Deeply appreciated my friend.
I am stunned in a good way!
It is never too late to try something new. Thanks so much for the read and kind words they are appreciated very much.
Good write beardy, erm, SB. lol. Dang those moustaches, those dead caterpillars under one's nose. lol.
They smell of lilacs my friend er maybe not. Thanks for the read and comment it is appreciated
Made me think - damn, gotta charge me trimmer.☺️ Sonnet form utilised to novel but useful effect.
Thanks Dave so good to hear from you I appreciate your review and comment. If you are going to trim a straight razor is the best.
Really? Nah - there'd be better ways to go than slitting my throat. LOperhapsL
(Recommendations if you are in that area?)
Now Dave I shave with a straight razor and haven't slit my throat yet.
😅
Soren, this is strong…your beard as chainmail, each strand carrying memory, sorrow, and hope. It reads as defiance and dignity both. 🌹🖤🙏🕯️
Thank you Tristan for your read and interpretation following well what was intended. It is most appreciated
You are most welcome, my friend!
I grew a beard many years ago, when my son was born he didn't see me without a beard for the first five years of his life.
Andy
Thank you for the read Gold yes have had a mustache for 40 years but not a beard.
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