The Not So Trivial Tribulations of Brother Beard

"Our Father, Who art unshaven
Hirsute be Thy name
Thy crinigerous kingdom come
Thy whiskers be unshorn
On Thy ear-and-nose as it is on Thy chinny chin chin
Give us this day our daily beard
And forgive us our trimmed tresses
As we forgive those trichotillomaniacs who trim us
And lead us not into a beautician
But deliver us from epilation
Amen!"

All the flowing beards
Of all sages
Of all ages
Knotted together
Into a rope
Was his Pope
Their silken cocoon
Held him together
Their threads
Restrained him
Protected him
Prevented him
From crumbling to dust
Their chains
Enthralled him to death
And enslaved him to birth
But alas
Those spider-twines are torn
By the winds of change
Alas
Even all those flowing beards
Of all sages of all ages
Knotted together
Cannot outgrow that silky outgrowth
Wherefore his threadbare existence
Was woven
That which used to brush-off his tears
From these then fatherful eyes

"Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?
Father, father, why have you forsaken me?"

A weak orphan
He sleeps sleepless
With the beard of his dreams
Wriggling
Death-nightmare medusas
Creeping
Behind family altars
Spermatozoa scourge
Flagellating
Suffering
Invoking
His barren face brazen
Lashing
His eyes raw
Not seldom weeping
And he sees not
But for his blindfold
Woe, the crashing cataracts
In his waterfall eyes

"Boohoo, Mummy's boy!"
"Grow a chin, crybaby!"

Like Moses
He stands on a mountain
Of circumcised flesh
Looking far
And he narrows his eyes
Naked, but for a loin-cloth
But he fails once again
In his endeavour
Of painting a distant ray of hope
With his eyelash-brushes
But then
He looks up to the heavens to behold
The golden-strand emanation
From the radiant face of Father Divine
A humbled son's wet eyes behold
The golden-bearded Sun

Look! His tears evaporate
Revealing
The unveiled sun within
Wandering
Searching
For the one he was lost
Finally seeing
On the surface of the Time-River
A reflection of his face
With a growing stubble
Finally a stubble
Growing on his face

"You are a man now, boy!"
"Chin up, dude!"

He sees
And makes others see
The bearded boon
Suffer little children
To make up their minds soon
Because now he can see
Those wavy locks ebb
Far beyond oceans of fantasy
He sees hairs
A hair here, a hair there
Hairs hairs everywhere
Wonderfully golden
Even in coffee-mugs
And pastry-cakes

"Eww! Yuck!"
"Gross!"

And he says grace to that

"Our Father, who art unshaven
Hirsute be thy name..."

He sees. And makes others see
He sees. And makes others see

"See, see, eh?"
"See, see?"
"See, see?"

"The apple of mother's eye never existed
But the remains of the serpent remain."

"Why have you forsaken me?"
"Why have you forsaken me?"
"Why have you forsaken me?"

"Our Father, Who art unshaven
Hirsute be Thy name
Thy crinigerous kingdom come
Thy whiskers be unshorn
On Thy ear-and-nose as it is on Thy chinny chin chin
Give us this day our daily beard..."