Best Yes Man Poems
No, no, you got it all wrong
This is my N song
I love using the N word in everything I do, I am
NO, I am not Sam, I am
I love the N word, when told to google thing
I don't like the N word during the middle of a fling
Many times I use the N word, when asked if I took the batteries
NO, I did no such thing, you crybaby
I use the N word, when my girl needs sUm cash
I'm not falling for that dash
A simple No, to all money grubbers,
beggars
I'm not a "YES" man
I'm a "NO" man
On occasions, I love using the F word even more
DX
With measured words, he speaks his mind,
A sage and thoughtful leader, one of a kind.
He listens deeply, with ears that hear,
Not to respond, but to understand, and calm the fear.
His vocabulary is sparse, yet rich in meaning,
Three words suffice: "yes" or "no", his heart keeps beating.
He stands by principle, unwavering and strong,
No mere yes-man, he speaks truth, right where he belongs.
With gentle hands, he guides, he teaches, and leads,
By example, he shows the path, where wisdom proceeds.
He respects his family, with love and with care,
Supporting his children, and his wife, with a love that's fair.
A defender of what's right, he stands tall and true,
Unwavering in his convictions, through all he'll do.
He doesn't crave acceptance, nor validation from the crowd,
His self-worth rooted deep, in values that he's proud.
He keeps his head above the noise, a steady hand,
A rock of wisdom, in a world that's often lost in sand.
He doesn't gossip, nor engage in petty strife,
But speaks with facts, and stands for truth, for life.
He's a man of integrity, with a heart that's pure,
A leader who inspires, with a spirit that's sure.
He's not swayed by emotions, nor driven by desire,
But guided by reason, and a sense of what's right and true, he aspires.
He's a protector, a provider, a guiding light,
A safe haven in the storm, a beacon in the night.
He's a man of honor, with a word that's his bond,
A promise kept, a commitment strong.
He's a wise and noble soul, with a heart that's kind,
A leader who serves, with a spirit that's aligned.
He's not seeking power, nor wealth, nor fame,
But living with purpose, with a sense of what's truly gained.
He's a man of wisdom, a leader, a guide,
A beacon of hope, in a world that's often lost inside.
He teaches by example, with a heart that's pure,
A wise and noble soul, forever secure.
The Moon’s Yellow Eyes
After: The King in Yellow by Robert Chambers
Situations righted by the assassination in Sheepshead Bay (alibied with difficulty under earth’s single moon), I curl up on the windowsill hissing at the pallid orb. Oh how, I long for my planet, Carcosa. I lick the remaining human poison from my claws. Yes, man-made poison, but I, I am the one who delivers— population control.
Wilde, my mate, our transformed intermediary, brushes my coat. I purr. How oddly complacent Wilde has become. Once, he too walked on four legs. After our arrival on Earth and his change (We thought the change would regrow the ear I tore from him in his last life—) my mate became no more than a castrato. I do regret the torture which deprived him of two fingers on his right hand. (It made his job more difficult.) But, discipline was necessary.
the pestle crushes
poison white snakeroot:
yellow eyes shine
Well, why am I telling you this? To that I would say, why not? Who on earth would believe a cat could talk?
The feline form has advantages in espionage. A petted and pampered puss can lure the reticent, overhear the loud-mouthed, two-footed, earthly baboons—with cunning, obtain information no human in their right mind would divulge to an enemy. As valet, advisor, disciplinarian to Wilde (and he to the earthlings), my position abides, a mere slap and tickle from the throats of power. My teeth, neck piercing weapons of choice; my claws scimitars of death drip with the blood of masters.
One more night out. Wilde cat-like licks the scar on his damaged hand and stares at the invitation stamped with the Presidential seal. One more night, sweet puss and the reign of The Yellow King will begin.
Published by Illumen 2016
Let’s walk you through the Advertising world
Where people are ideating in search of a pearl
They are brainstorming on a client brief you see
Where no head or tail is transparent to be
The client is king for all you know
At times he argues to get his pricing low
His main aim is maximum profit to show
With minimum man power and lots to flow
The art director is busy drawing his thoughts
Looks like he got caught in his mind of little knots
While the copywriter is scribbling down the row
thinking of ideas to blow the directors bow
ops!
The graphics designer is pleading for no more
Coz he is the last man standing holding the show
He changes the designs as per the director’s nose
His mind is blown and wished he could say no
But he is stuck like the yes man holding the door
His creative juices are exhausted like a
Banana which can’t blow
And as the competition rises, the teamwork blows
No one united as individuals vie the show
While time is clicking as the deadline is near
It’s time to go home but wait a new brief has come
and it’s not so clear
Oh hell no!
It’s the weekend coming and I hope it’s not work
Coz we don’t get paid overtime in the field of Advertising lurks
Oh no!!!
Just what did they do - Mam
Bing Bang Boom - Bam
Did they take anything but you - Mam
- No -
- So –
- Maybe -
They were just a bunch of Boys
Having Fun - Hon
Did you recognize any of their faces - Mam
Yes-
Was one of them my Son
No - Maybe Mam
they were just a bunch of stupid Boys
on their way to becoming stupid Men
Yes – Stupid Boys
- Stupid Men –
- Maybe – Hon
Yes- Man -
Stupid Boys
Becoming stupid Men
In stupid Stripes
In stupid Cells
Lullaby Slam
Chris boy you wanna be the man.
You must like getting your lights punched in
You are lucky I am your greatest fan
Anyways, 30-year-old poet baby.
I will take it easy on your first spam slam
This occurs with a warning, burning Canadian bacon
Let's take this down to MY Dr. Seuss level
I will draw our first run as sweet as I can
I'd hate to see you crapping like a child
Reading, yes man PD I can
I was going to slam you where it hurt,
after reading all your dirty dirt.
Every mother knows how to take a baby out
Give it warm milk, to tap his ass to sleep
Alternatively, I will milk my way into your dreams
Making you scream
Here's a Lullaby slam to pass you out
I could provoke a military round
But what fun would that be to bring you down
This will not get any justice, from your disgrace
This lullaby slam is to knock you unconscious
For yippee yapping, in my face
Slamming you crazy * does not sound right
Are you really bored, you keep me up all night
You require me to put my P.D. Mask back on
Perhaps tomorrow I will slam you till the night is gone
At this point, time and moment
I will only sting like a bee
To see if you come after me
You might have seen this one before
With the pleasure of making you crawl
For more
I will remain here in the soup
Waiting for you to join in
I will wait to see your next move
Hopefully, I do not suffer from waiting long
Chris-baby tomorrow is another day.
Before I depart, I left you a bottle of warm milk
On this page, for you to drink before you read
Nite, Nite!
Nice baby!
(FUN)
Well I’ve got the blues
I’ve just heard the news
That the earth is getting warmer by the day
Yet I just get a chill
From the girl that makes me thrill
For when it comes to loving she won’t play
I’ve got the global blues
the global warming blues
Just when I’m in the grove,
When I try to make a move
Well my baby leaves me shivering in my shoes
When my passion starts to rise
It comes as no surprise,
that I can’t find a way to melt her heart
Though she’s pretty and she’s neat,
Just to hold her is a treat
Somehow when it comes to loving she wont start
I’ve got the global blues
the global warming blues
Yes my babies really nice
but she has a heart of ice
So I just can’t believe the global news
Yet she really is a star,
The very best I’ve seen by far
I always thought for me that she is just right
Whenever I get bold,
She instantly turns cold
I just can’t seem to raise her Fahrenheit
Yes Man
I’ve got the global blues
the global warming blues
For though I am forever soaked with sweat,
I’ve got the global blues
the global warming blues
There simply is no loving I can get
I don’t get no thrill,
Just an ice cold chill
When I think things might get up beat
My baby plays it cool
I’m left to feel a fool
So someone tell me how to raise the heat
I’ve got the global blues
The global warming blues
Science simply can’t have got it right,
I’ve got the global warming blues
The global warming blues
My baby makes me shiver every night
Man that’s mighty cold
This needs a tune
Man needs woman to fill the empty space.
To comfort without hesitation.
To share gentle hands and their tender trace,
And love without wanton adulation.
To stand strong with their own thoughts, defiant
And be independent with their wishes.
Give their heart, never their soul compliant,
And end the soft lighted day with kisses.
Yes, man needs a woman of inner strength,
A companion to walk each road as one.
Travel the dire way no matter the length,
And measure each day under the sun.
.
To hold a woman of strength through time,
For her to find your love worthy, sublime.
contest Trashed 2 ..sponsor Broken Wings
Frederic Parker
9/5/15
.
Yes man,
no man,
we all pray for Uncle Sam,
hoping he would bump a Jam,
swim a river,
break a Dam,
fake a figure,
feed a clam.
No man...
Yes What?
We were here when we were young,
why should you be here and glum?
Take a smile,
and eat a plumb,
fresh as ever,
does well in rum...
But when I came I was on the run!
Doin' tricks that weren't so tough,
but I had to eat,
and I had to bluff.
That is wrong,
and that is bad!
We stay here and we are glad,
you are fresh,
the mud of the bath-
do me hard and hope for a cast,
Clooney, Sheen, and Pitt the rad,
do me hard so that I can bat,
swing for the the fence-
cat at the rat-
and retort the facts...
A beautiful chance to smoke out my snack.
Jamaicans near and far, gather round and listen closely to the sounds of the Jamaican beat...
JAMAICA, pon di rise!
JAMAICA, on the RISE!
Yes, yes, man we on the go,
we raise the price of tin mackerel so high, the price has practically hit di roof.
Poor people a struggle but we still on the go
Self- Elevation, down with the slavery,
RED tape and any sign of white supremacy
but what about the black indoctrination?
What about the plights of mothers and fathers whose dreams are lost in a sea of
Frustration, Depression and Deprivation.
What is causing us as a people to be so callous, unforgiving, impulsive, irrational and down-right unbearable?
Is it our innate need to shine and out do each other?
The system, we are told it's the system, our predisposed nature,
the way we were raised, the way we were taught by our educational system.
The way we were instructed by our British masters.
So Jamaicans, we on the go
the price of basic items may be high but we still have wi pride
We a break records
We a set trends
WE a educate our people dem
Yes, yes, JAMAICA, on the RISE
WE a come from far
centuries of slavery
LIBERTY, LIBERTY, INDEPENDENCE, SOVEREIGNITY!
JAMAICA, ON THE RISE!!!
Tracie ~*~ Indigo Dreamweaver
Contest Name Sijo Kisses
Sweet Sijo
ah yes sweet love we sure do so miss, interlude a stolen kiss,
had such a girl, her name was Chris, but she went away, quite a bit:(
with wife stealing cousin Wayne:) yes man struck again, no hypocrite.
Man
A word so small but huge with emotions, stress but you have to tag along
So creative yet so blind
So loving yet so abusive
So manipulative, lying and cheating in a sensible way yet so emotional
Man, a family, love, respect yet so arrogant
An ear, shoulder to lean on and encouraging
But a killer in a leopard skin
Man, very smooth talking creature
A smile that turn to sorrows and pain
Oh man the creator of a woman through bone yet so conniving like an on-going headache
A comfort, protector and a free ride yet park station in terms of feelings, care and emotions
Confusion, misinterpretation, Father, uncle, husband yet a rapist
Man, oh man
A fighter, a role model yet cruel
An adviser, a friend yet so jealous in a mannerly way
A hell sender like terminal disease
Man yes man, man oh man
first things first
this is not
for everyone you have
to have
quite a belly to
stomach it if you catch
the drift of them
then it gets
tough to let go
second things first be
authentic
and that means
all of you
but only in pieces
that cannot be fitted
back together,
like an eye
& hook, too
dangersome
a game for mice
and then
you can never tell
how
it all started
a slicing-edge away from
where you had even in-
tended to begin with this
mess
third things first you do, you
need a yes-yes-yes man
to temper the sensation of
when you see yourself
as a single blade of truth
in one single minute
we shared
reflected back
over a single order of
magnitude
what would it
have been
like if I had
lifted my hem
further exposing
my Victorian
anklet?
What makes me so special?
You favor me with ease
You take me with you everywhere, through your highest highs
And your lowest lows
It is like I was born branded, like the bump
That you bestowed
A thorny crown placed on my head, causing
Scars that I can’t heal
I was born to be your rag doll
You keep me close at
Hand
To be a yes-man when you’re happy, because I’m
Something you can spoil
You give me gifts just so I’ll stay
But when you get mad, I’m
Yours to hit
There’s a smile painted on my face, and
It never falters
Beneath the surface, there are cracks
Where your hypocrisy alone
Has dared to go
My walls are up, my doors are locked, but you always find
Your way in, then blow down the chimney
And even though my heart is made
Of stone, around you, it
Always crumbles
And with you it’s all a competition
To see who can hate you
More
You’d kill for some affection, and
Basically, you do
I still remember that day, two years shy of now
When I sat there cowering on the floor
When you hit and pulled my hair
You said I’d never
Known abuse
But I know you personally
Only you can be pardoned for everything
You are forgiven without excuse,
Name us guilty without trial
We lack lawyers and a jury, and I’m tired of
Taking all the blame
For the stupid things you do
I’m just another daughter, just Raggedy Anybody
But I wrote this poem all for you
And only you’re to blame
Of the House? Really????
Paul Ryan? Speaker of the House?
he's just John Boehner 3
Did McCarthy, really get scared off?
smells fishy, can't you see?
Something really doesn't jibe
we all know that it's true
May as well forget the wall
illegals welcomed through
Amnesty, he'll push for it
been on his mind for years
He's looking way far up the road
towards "nomination" cheers
Another "yes man" budget fudge
he'll twist and turn like Boehner
"Snow" LIVs with big forked tongue
bright Americans are much saner
We head towards doom, can't let this go
he'll be a RHINO leader
Subversive till we all are one
then lead us to the feeder......
Pete Yuhas