Best Naysayer Poems
My lips uttered a sound not heard before, a bird trill.
I was amazed, for I had grown a beak, and knew I was an eagle.
This is new I thought, and my knee is heeled up.
I could walk, but I decided to fly instead.
Bull! I heard my muse scoff in my ear, so I locked her up.
I did not need a naysayer today. I was taking a solo flight.
I soared out the window past my lilac bushes.
Their aroma was exotic and erotic.
It was still a bit dark outside, for sunrise had not appeared.
Shall I head for a sea or the mountains?
I live in Chicago, land of wind and lakes.
Today it was pouring rain, but that was no surprise in April.
With a quick whip of my beak I looked to the east.
The sea would be faster that way, but the mountains are grand.
What about Kansas? It is not tornado weather yet, right?
My muse had unlocked herself and was here in the flood plain with me.
"The Expected"
The writing was on the wall
the eraser like a sparkler
annihilated every naysayer
words not required
for such a blind date
He da main player
records kept
for reviewing later
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
I once needed a lawyer,
for the problem I had with my employer
the promises made
were all a masquerade
dim lawyer, turned out to be a naysayer
If only one could be
I would pick you
for your world is opening up
before your eyes,
you have many triumphs ahead,
and I can only hope that the
failures are few and lead to
a better understanding,
your dreams will take you far
and so will your smarts,
don't ever let anyone take your pride
and self-confidence away,
look for the good even in things
that may not be,
never allow your horizons to
be shortened by the naysayers
and don't allow yourself to
become a naysayer,
think of others but allow
yourself to always see the
importance in your own life,
do not allow the darkest days
to cover the beauty of the world
see beyond the surface to find
the real beauty - even in yourself,
listen to advice but follow
your heart and convictions,
never assume that you are too great,
too big, too important, too wonderful
for life will be certain to knock you down,
let your greatest gift be the one
that opens hearts and minds,
never stop trying and never stop learning
for growth and change are one in the same,
seize the moment
but take time to enjoy the day,
you are my delight in this world...
Never stop caring and never stop loving.
On this day of remembrance,
To give thanks for what we own,
Many are much more somber,
And sadness is the tone.
I can sit here and ponder,
All that I don’t have,
Or choose to put on joy,
Like an ancient herbal salve.
We all have a perspective,
That we view our lives from,
Sanguine or naysayer,
The contented and the glum.
I may have few possessions,
Noteworthy wealth in my life,
But I have riches like a king,
In people like my wife.
My life may be in turmoil,
As chaotic as a twister,
But family is my anchor,
In the love of my two sisters.
I have a roof over my head,
And meals three times a day,
I have the understanding of family,
As I rest, write and play.
My body desires to fail me,
And at times my mind gives way,
My thoughts often hazy,
And melt like warm sorbet.
My family has a value,
That surfeit gold cannot compare,
And regardless of possessions,
I have nothing to despair.
Upon this day of thanks,
While food conceals the table,
Take time to love your family,
While you still are able.
Warren Wurzburger
November, 2010
Optimist
Hopeful, joyful, enthusiastic
Fulfilling, exciting, thriving,
Mentor, leader, enemy, naysayer
Anger, sadness, depression
Draining, energy-stealing, exhausting
Pessimist
Clouds can be remarkably similar
to the friends lovers and passer-bys
that filter through our daily lives
like unexpected weekend guests
who arrive exactly as they planned
or close relatives who fail to appear
simply cancelling at the last minute
as if you weren’t worthy of their rain cheque
you have cleaned the bathroom
and your conscience for nothing
Puppet clouds pull easily at our strings
just the rumour of a troubled sky
can send a jetliner the other way
and when thunder rolls like a lions roar
even the bravest of us cringe for cover
for their faithful companion lightning
can be utterly shocking
like the last couple to leave a party
you are not even sure who invited them
Naysayer clouds are lifelong companions
content to rain on just your parade
intimidating away hopes for a brighter day
some clouds are hauntingly thin and long
like the fingernail scratches of a prisoner
held within the walls of a gray winter day
thirsty for the taste of a falling raindrop
and who among us has not known
at least one cute blond cloud
cannot find her way around a hilltop
Vegas stars mime the clouds de soleil
desert matinees provided dawn to dusk
elflike figures grasping silver moonbeams
magically move across skies of fantasy
one moment an elegant graceful butterfly
the next a leaping giant walrus
brilliant costume changes accomplished
within the blink of your eye
now you see them and then you don’t
encore encore encore
Who has’nt witnessed the theft of sunset
winsome pickpockets lurk like puffs of innocence
clouds seemingly distant but so close
we never feel them steal the belief
that we actually can own daylight
as if it were a shiny silver dollar
the usual suspects hide away to darkness
even a cloudless sky fails to please us all
who has not longed for a rainy day
Clouds of suspicion descend upon truth
as if locusts hunting for delicious prey
and can like a loaded pair of dice
forever change the games that we play
the fickle and aloof clouds of love
play hide and seek with our very hearts
Juliet cried out where for art thou Romeo
deep in her heart she knew his words
were just a bunch of silver lined promises
who do you trust if you can’t trust a cloud
IRISH
We have so many role models in society.
You can choose from so many with such a different variety.
There are musicians, writers, actors, athletes, and so many more out there.
But the people we choose today, I don't get, I swear.
Some of these people's minds must be playing hooky.
With all the great people out there some people choose Snooki.
We choose people just because they are millionaires.
It seems like in today's society nobody cares.
On facebook, Charles Manson has 20,000 friends.
I don't get these people or today's trends.
He was a cult leader and murder for crying out loud.
But a role model to some and they say it proud.
Some people say it is O.J. Simpson when he was a football player.
Okay, but now he is a murderer, but I won't be a naysayer.
There are so many more I don't understand, but I won't even bother.
I will just be puzzled and look up to mine, because mine is my father.
hello, Paris it's mama dearest
Mama bear pulls into Seattle with a roar
searching the neighborhoods of the poor
You hear me, come out from hiding ... my baby cub
mama has a pocketful of your favorite grub
hello, Paris come out wherever you be
hello, Paris come out wherever you be
There's a warm bed and shower to be had
so come out now, and stop being so mad
At every corner mama roars, stomps her feet
hoping upon a wishing well daughter's eyes meet
hello, Paris it's mama dearest
hello, Paris it's mama dearest
She sings her song over and over, hoping a prayer
is answered by her, and not another naysayer
Fear is born as fruits of her labor rot
but mama keep swimming up river for her baby tot
hello, Paris it's mama dearest
hello, Paris it's mama dearest
On a crescent moon, lost in a crater, daughter sleeps
in a dilapidated room on flea infested bed with a creep
Such fate of what a warm voice does to someone that's cold
her precious gifts and youthful innocence stolen
hello, Paris come out wherever you be
hello, Paris come out wherever you be
connie pachecho
12/30/16
Old Harve woke up in a cold sweat that day
And he’s never been the same—
He dreamt of a Veteran’s Day parade
Where no other people came.
There were only riderless horses there,
And some empty Sherman tanks,
Pilotless planes, deserted moth-balled ships—
No one watched or waved them thanks.
And there were uniforms marching in place—
But gray phantoms filled their suits—
There were only white crosses on the curbs,
But no children or recruits.
“But this all makes no sense to me!” cried Harve,
“Where’s the gratefulness and cheers?”
Then a gaunt specter turned to him and said:
“This happens with the passing years.
“Oh, it used to be quite different once,
When fights were ones that we chose—
But war and freedom’s now inconvenient—
Seems the blush is off the rose.”
“But liberties are not easy,” sighed Harve,
“They’re for our next generation—
They’re not like fast food or our micro-waves—
It takes time to save a nation!”
Then marchers changed to young men and women,
Who wore their uniforms proud—
As suddenly sidewalks filled with people
Who waved their flags and yelled loud.
Yes, what if they held that grand old parade
And no one came or cared to see?
Then maybe we would deserve what we’d get
And lose all our liberty.
But then that dark, grim specter just vanished,
Like a naysayer in the sky—
And that vet’s parade was the best in years,
As our souls and spirits flew high.
Oh, what if they had a Veteran’s Day
And no one had died for me?
Would this still be one nation under God
That was strong and good and free?
Much to my chagrin
barely discerned, noticed above
the celebratory Republican din
the commander in chief
all smiles with engined
haired cohorts evincing
ear to ear tousled grin,
feather in cap for apprenticed
president and kin,
which exemption, sans suspected
collusion deflated balloon,
asper impeachment with figurative pin,
hoof foresees unbridled spin
and reluctantly I admit a win
for oval office occupants,
now crowing with dens zen
of Democrats nemesis,
sought after cat in bag
to snag the 20/20 election - dag
nabbit, now suddenly hands off
to hot synonymous to a burning flag
infuriating an angry red bull,
whereby kicked up dust dost gag,
no doubt Donkey Kong doth lag
behind Elephant given boost
regarding race to occupy Oval Office,
(bout 18 months hence) with swag,
yet partisan bickering
promises divisiveness about
conclusion Robert Mueller,
political party in power will flout,
and hammer home (sic) cull
doughboy Putin on Ritz with nary a pout,
and suddenly a shoe win victory...
finds this average Joe
Biden envisioning a rout
as campaign soon begins in earnest
unwise to toss in hat, and tout
positive opinion billionaire tycoon barren
glistening pearly whites, and smug Darren
any naysayer to cross
twittering account Heron,
now that his ego the size of Taj Mahal,
where head honcho rear in
to pull out all stops with
unsheathed claws tear wren
into every mass media
to disseminate latest twist,
deflecting opprobrium
with many voters pissed
and disillusioned at unsubstantiated list
of purported high
crimes and misdemeanors,
perhaps taking cheeky liberty,
viz various sundry gals tubby kissed
rapidly punctuating exhortations grist
for milling potential resurgence
with pumping fist
feeling on top of the world,
no doubt glad to exist.
Listen to this naysayer,
Where thee never meets his course,
Deny deny deny,
Nein nein nein as the Germans say,
His heart is hard like a stone,
He battles with his own emotions,
That lead his head topsy-turvy,
He's ill tempered,
Loathsome bipolar they call him,
Mixture of poisons stifle his heart,
Where no words venture in that dark cavern cold,
Love never thrives in it,
This malady is left untreated,
Till the day he carries it to his grave.
His was an incredible discovery; a phenomenal breakthrough.
To cure cancer completely is inconceivable, a naysayer said.
It would bring unimaginable joy to many, said his mother.
This scientist knew he could always count on her to say the right thing.
An essence heard a heartfelt plea
meek, unconfident, not familiar
"Should I bother anymore? Please guide me."
His words hardly mist....
a response slices the scene
with the speed of a guillotine.
skittering over the asymmetrical
similarities of a snowy expanse
a messenger appears
cracks of icy dunes
produce precarious pawfalls
plaguing the vixen.
venturing further precisely
she plods over precipices
of ragged protrusions
desperate to achieve the comfort
of a smooth surface.
"Where you go is perilous!
I worry for your safety!
It can't be done, you won't survive!"
...cried the timid.
Her movement stops on cue
slowly facing the pupil
she teaches in silent syllables
floating on unknown frequencies.
" DAMN YOU NAYSAYER!
I have no time for the likes of you.
Say I won't survive? Come out alive?
I've fought through worse pain
finding sustenance to gain
morsels leaving one inspired
not feeling as if they're mired.
Search within your pores
find where you have hidden yours."
Dumbfounded - the novice stirs restlessly
"Perplexed, I see, you are mon cherie.
Hear what you seek before I flee.
When life's coldness surrounding you
leaves you writhingly wretched
don't feel so desolate and utterly dejected.
Deep inside lies the truth
albeit quite protected.
Bugger those scorning your worth
their eyes glisten shades green.
Stagnantly feeding ego's girth
pompous words - own to preen.
YOU are the Alpha here Jack
there is no need to whine
Condemn the disapproving pack
let your own light shine
Too much weight put into their drivel
making your inner child snivel
Buck up, put them in their place
other's ire force them to chase.
This be your nefarious impasse
faux approval merely to fit in
Always people of that class
saying anything to win
Lastly,
though I've said enough....
It's as you learned when a tyke
those times you fell off your bike
quit being a ruse
get back to your muse
keep working at what you like!"
Sunset facing her gaze
signals the quest resumed
Her protege audibly sobs
a simple seven syllable soliloquy stating:
"Thank you
I love and miss you!"
with a whispered (mom)
Tender tendrils of whispy wind
touch a cheek with a kiss
and a lasting voiceless return.....
"Forever, son"
Love, now
With the end nearing
Of this dated form
Called mine,
You increase! (Your blessed
Virus taking firmer hold);
Ah! If all the countless
Ails of this world were
So dear…and the many
Abrasions so warmly salved
As by Your gracing,
Then would the naysayer
(Dissenter from God and faith)
Say, You, Love, are greater,
And, apparently, greater still
Even in death—
But, alas, one cannot tell
Such an intimate as ours
Divine; for such intimacy
Is impossible by design
And to the doubtful
Without his or her hand
In the wound
One cannot begin
To define…