Best Yeses Poems
Red is the color of passion and rage
It creates a sense of infuriating rampage
Yellow is the color of joy that enlightens
Expressions of sunrises that always brightens
Green is the color of jealousy and power
Wherever it is there will be no one devour
Blue is the color of sadness and pain
A touch of the sky to send innocent refrain
Purple is the color or kings and princes
It is royalty awakening all the senses
Orange is the color of October leaves
With it there is promise of all He believes
Pink is the color of soft and tender sweetness
A sense of all that brings about completeness
Ivory is the color of bridal gowns and tresses
That beautiful moment when there are yeses
Gray is the color of rain and reflection
Reminders that we are going in one direction
White is the color of snowfall and feathers
A chill in the air that takes us through treasures
Black is the color of death and all that dies
When the life has gone from the autumn skies
Together these colors mingle to bring about inspiration
Feelings that will twist about vividly, a dance of salvation
Categories:
yeses, cheer up, color, happiness,
Form:
Couplet
Mad moments mesh mind mystery;
Yesterdays yield yonder yeses;
Sight sensuous stash sync sensibly;
Thrust tensile thrill to touch tresses;
Empty emote ends each earthing;
Ready ripe rock rustling rich roast;
Yesterdays yoke yield young yawning.
Mind mulling mock moves motive most;
Aplomb appease asking appliqué;
Seize subtle space singing sweetly;
Troubles trace tease trembling technique;
Endow encase embalm empty;
Rich rides revoke reel remaking;
Yesterdays yoke yonder yielding.
Leon Enriquez
14 June 2014
Singapore
(Note: This poem is a Sonnet with Alliteration.)
Categories:
yeses, analogy,
Form:
Alliteration
Can't quite put my finger
on the actual ingredients,
but I know it's you by
the flavorful residue.
Sometimes I cannot
hear everything you say
but I'm in tune with
your mouthful of subtle
affirmations
All of your yeses
has me attentively listening
As if my ears were stethoscopes
and I was prescribed
to give your heart hope.
I listen although
I do not know your definition
I can still use you
in every one of my
sentences
Visually, your framed
as my foundation
for the crown I was
meant to wear
Some call it bling
but I say you've been
roots that lead
to a golden oasis
I akin you to the sun
Your scent rivals
summer flowers
I can close my eyes
and know just where I am
as if the junction between
your thighs were a field of clover
And there was no need
to search further,
but dive right on in
You see I know you
without knowing knowing you
because I am
always dreaming about
the description of you
Described as I am.
Categories:
yeses, french, sensual, women,
Form:
Free verse
I glaze a look at the street, from
our apartment window.
You are coming slowly, teetering
one leg in front other, with back slightly hunched forward,
burdened with sleepless nights and yesterday’s undones.
Vibrant spirit once you had is lost, tossed among crowded
train wagons, useless meetings and broken deadlines.
One vein in the left corner of your forehead, swells, pulses in the rhythm
of your dark, fuddled thoughts as unremitting, sprouting baldness
reflects evening lights.
Still, I smile,
for you are here, with me in all this madness
we call life, half diced with wants and haunts that braid
every tomorrow we greet together.
I would like to put you in a different frame, picture of
nor “Yeses” nor “Nos”,
just us, being us, each moment celebrating
without lamenting for what “ifs” or “shoulds” and “coulds”.
Still, I smile,
as I watch you battle your restless leg syndrome,
wrestling to sooth demanding expectations,
lifted bars for higher remunerations, in constant marathon
of best comparison,
for you care, you dare.
I take your hand with eyes of approval,
life’s gigolo and gigolette,
ready to play each day’s illusive roulette.
Categories:
yeses, age, career, feelings, life,
Form:
Free verse
86
86
CharlaXFabels
American Christian
True Story
A Homeless person is nothing but a distracting sideshow on the sidewalk to
most people they can not help them ease the misery of the alcoholism or even
feed them and yet iff ewe ask them are all of you a Christian they would ring
choruses of resounding yeses in choral verses posted on the internet in three
part harmonic glee club performances. Eye have seen some bad men posing as
people. A man walking to the mission once his duffle causing him to shuffle eye
asked him to let me help him and this is what he told me. He was very angry and
he was posing as a human. This will now become his story.
Eye am an American Christian, eye do not need the help you have offered just
leave my fate to me eye suffer an old war injury the knee cap it is plastic not
meant to be abused but eye can carry twice as much as you. Even with my bad
leg eye can get where eye am going if this bothers you then hide and watch my
passing. He had to be hiding something and this is later to be revealed. The offer
of help was the Christian in me just reaching out to someone less fortunate and
needy. The thorns in the people you meet can make the fellowship falter and
miss and make a man wonder at this life time to come. Now when we had gotten
where we were going and he had made me belittled all the way the real long day
was over and he still would not shut up so hear what he now had to say. He said
you be quiet in that bed or eye will shoot you full of lead and that is when he
pulled a pistol from his bag and that must be why he has so much trouble with
the weight it must have weighed a ton there is not another feeling in this world
my dear and gentle reader as laying in a MISSION bed just waiting for the sound
of that dropped hammer on the gun he must be the American Christian.
Categories:
yeses, parody, people, satire, science
Form:
Prose Poetry
Love pain has no specific moments
NO certain timing
It just buzz out pain in happiness
You trying to push it back
Unstable it bounces back
This feeling wants to be felt
You throw it back
It hates to be left unfelt
You turn your back away
One step away
It is already ahead
There it blocks the way
It demands a chance
See tears oozing non-stop from eyes to prevent drought
Yeses! This feeling
Feels like a sword
Piercing cardiac
It is sickening
Toxic to feel soul ache
This feeling demands that I feel it okay
Thousand minutes a break
A deal okay
My insight is fragile promise
Not to break
Yeses love pain is like a vulture
Am dead alive
Feeding on my flash
While am still breathing
Striping me courage
Am left in hostage
Even worse
In dark cages of fear
Engaging to powerless
So I lose power and be powerless
Lose control over myself etcetera
I lose so many things
Including focus
Chords vocals
I just become speechless, clueless ,
Helpless
In whatever I think less less
It drains me hope
After a while creat it though
Empty, Empty Empty
My brain feels empty
Feels vacuum
Thoughtsreach late in cerebrum
I demand a break
It demands to be felt
Love pain
Categories:
yeses, pain,
Form:
ABC
I long for my enemy
Yesterday I wanted to
But couldn't because of the shawl
Everywhere I go is a mirror
Him that lives in me owls for a call
Worst enemy,best friend
Hate that I love you so
Beating,heating,hitting,biting
Just a piece
All I'll ever ask for
My sojourn ends where yours began
I'm weak but not like him
That starts not to finish
Intimidated by the obvious pull
What a Shylock?
I...I....leaving me speechless
Mouth dropping,gaping wide
Needs an approval
Golden kisses.filtering 'yeses'
I die to stop my...
Can I be my lover?
Never 'll it be
Till the end of the world.
Categories:
yeses, parodyme, i love you,
Form:
They told me I could move mountains...
But I couldn't even get them to budge.
They told me I could have my cookie...
But I couldn't even have it in fudge.
They told me I could be who I want,
But people still don't call me Bill Gates.
They told me anything is possible,
But I still can't grow money, so that is up for debate.
They told me to shoot for the moon,
but i still miss it every time!
They told me to love EVERYONE,
but they didn't tell me that it is a crime.
They told me school would make me smarter,
but more often people still treat me like a dunce.
They told me college would make me richer,
I went... and already had to file bankruptcy once.
The lesson here is not so bad
I promise where there's bad there is hope
With all the yeses I thought I'd get,
Most often I was slapped with a "nope"
But the moral of the story
Is that life can be misunderstood
You shouldn't always do what your told,
Instead, just do what you know you should.
And if you don't get what you thought that you'd get,
You must be looking at it all wrong.
Everything happens for a reason,
But I don't have to tell you...
you've known all along.
Categories:
yeses, life, philosophy, strength, success,
Form:
There are more nos than yeses
when my wife goes to Talbots to try on new dresses.
Each dress has to fit her just so
that only her best features show.
And the rest she leaves up to wild-ass guesses.
Categories:
yeses, clothes, fashion, humor, wife,
Form:
Light Verse
I have a large
closed safe
with the noes
that I received...
and a delicate
box with
the yeses i won...
Categories:
yeses, allegory, allusion, appreciation, confidence,
Form:
Epigram
continuous figures
align in lines
along pathways and conduits
through time and space
I ask my questions in ones and zeroes
I tell my answers in yeses or noes
I know all
yet learn nothing
yours science alludes me
your puzzles complex me
this engine cannot compute
your differences
Categories:
yeses, introspection
Form:
Free verse
Peeling Back the Bubble Wrap
Peeling back the bubble wrap on the ancient of days,
Back to when Nixon was still presiding,
He, leading with paranoid deliberations,
Sold his yeses to the Goldbricks, and the Mustard Men;
And while he was dipping into the rubbery tides of the latex surfers,
I found your shadowy pointing breasts, shivering outside my backdoor.
You were standing in the dark, waiting for me to turn the key…
1973 was the year you taught me how to love a woman;
You, at 21 years, and me, ensconced in the stereo-lit darkness,
Of my dimly-lit bedroom on Hoover street;
You, wearing a wool skirt and that ruffled low-curving blouse,
With those tan buttons, like a half dozen corks, ready to be popped,
And you, sitting at my black upright piano,
The 1907 Schumann, made of stubborn black mahogany, and
You, with your long curved nails, femininely tapping the ivories,
Soliciting an intimate song I have since forgotten, but can still hear,
Your cylindrical tan legs pressing the piano pedals,
Like a fragile dancer made of fine glass, and
You, exploring human desire with determined pressings.
And then, into your garlanded home we strolled,
Hand in hand; And with our lips, we cleared the stoney path
Leading into the sun garden, amongst the cats and the posies,
And found astonished silhouettes behind the peephole.
Still peeling back the bubble wrap on the ancient of days,
Back to when my door was locked, and a green candle burned therein;
I saw you in the naked flickering, riding the tree of silver ascensions,
And with five pulsing fingers, I eagerly picked your finest flowers, over there,
Inside the throbbing, sun-lit bed of this poised sun garden; then,
You told me you loved me. Told me what I never wanted to hear,
“Even now, with me on top of you, in this silent grinding darkness,
I cannot bring myself to lie and say, ‘I love you.’
There is something about you I don’t want to know.
Yours is a long and complicated book I do not wish to read.
Your mind I cannot calibrate, or truly understand, so…I am sorry.
I deserve to be called an ass, deserve to be brushed off like a gnat, but
With you, my shoes never seemed to fit. My ears never seemed to hear.”
...when the copter went down, witnesses heard you scream…
“I am truly sorry.”
Categories:
yeses, remember,
Form:
Free verse
Yo... Man... Really? That word echoes, hangs heavy in the air/ You say "no," dismissive, a flippant affair/
But the air vibrates with possibilities, unseized/ Two "yeses" shimmering, carelessly released/
You could have been a builder, brick by brick, Instead, you're a spectator, watching dreams get sick/
Your girl she's riding ragged, a runaway train on crack's cruel track/
Little man in the back car set munching’ on a Big Mac/ Someone saw her screaming, a shattered, desperate plea/ Lost in the asphalt jungle, wanting to be free/
And you? You clutch your comfort, your convenient denial, Trading empathy for indifference/ wrapped in cold filial Loyalty to your dead stagnation/ your comfortable cage/
Help your girlfriend and baby boy find haven/
Don't mouth "impossible," "too hard," "not my fight," Two "yeses" could ignite a future, burning bright. Ya dig?
You're missing the bassline, the fundamental beat, Lost in the noise of self, your own small, selfish feat. A viewer, not a doer, trapped in your sterile frame/
While the real-world bleeds truth, whispering your name. Lay low, brother, for a spell/
Drop the jazzy pretense, the horn's mournful moan/ Pawn that tenor sax, that symbol of a dream unearned/ Get a J.O.B., let the rusty gears be turned. 'Cause that soaring saxophone, it ain't singing for you/ Just a hollow echo, amplified in your mind's eye, man, Be a doer, not a viewer, step out of the haze, Learn the power of "yes," in a million different ways/
Say "yes" to the struggle, the mess, the inconvenient truth, Say "yes" to growth, to change, to building something for youth. Say "yes" to compassion, the hand reaching out in the dark, Find the "yes" inside you,
Categories:
yeses, spoken word,
Form:
Spoken Word
How often have I hesitated,
poised on the brink of "perhaps,"
before unknown paths
that whispered my name.
And there, where the threshold opened
in fevered silence,
I denied the wind its wing,
consecrating the moment
to the still womb of my refusal.
The "yeses" I left unspoken
are grains of light
falling from Mary's womb,
while time holds its breath
in the eternal pause of the Annunciation.
They are Peter’s trembling
on the cusp of the rooster’s crow,
a flickering flame
gathered by forgiveness,
reforged into stone.
The "yeses" I left unspoken
are unseen wounds
in the body of the risen Christ,
traces of nails never driven,
silent as Veronica’s veiled face.
They are Gethsemane’s agony
stripped of words,
the sweat that drips blood
among the gnarled roots of the olive tree,
forever awaiting a dove.
Yet even those unspoken "yeses"
rest in the heart of eternity,
like seeds in the deep furrow
of untouched earth,
and already they stir,
woven with grace,
in the mystery of an hour yet to come.
They are hands brushing the hem,
the blind touch that heals,
they are God’s patient waiting,
brighter than any word unsaid.
Categories:
yeses, faith, god, gospel,
Form:
Free verse
In the deep silence of the evening, I remember her needs hidden like a pearl in the shell of time,
the same as yours and mine, never forgotten, never postponed by the wind of oblivion,
a dream that blooms like a flower of light at dawn, carrying promises of infinity and hope,
a desk where ideas take wing and soar, like birds searching for their long-lost sky.
She needs a friend who listens like the wind that whispers the secrets of the night,
a job that pays her dignity, not just her hours, like a treasure of recognition,
a room of her own, where silence means peace, not punishment, a sanctuary of unfulfilled dreams,
a space where thoughts dance freely, like leaves venturing into the autumn dance.
She needs respect, one that is not earned by diminishing, but like a mountain that rises,
through forced smiles or those yeses when the soul says no, like a river changing its course,
she needs to be heard not after the meeting has ended, but like a sun that never sets,
not hidden between the lines, but in titles and recognition, like a star that doesn’t fade in the eternal night.
She needs freedom, without footnotes, like a boundless sky full of wandering stars,
love, without conditions that confine her being, like an ocean embracing every shore with longing,
an immense space to spread her wings of dreams, like a dream becoming reality, without limits,
she needs what you need, not as a favor, not as a gift, but as a right written with the same breath.
That made both of us humans under the same sky, seeking the light of truth and eternal love,
and yet, why is it always about me, mine, I, like an echo of a story forgotten in time,
why not us, ours, together, like a symphony of souls intertwining in divine harmony,
because we rise when we rise together, like flames dancing in the same fire.
For equality is not a threat, but a promise we have yet to fulfill,
but we dream of it fully, like a guiding star in the dark sky of our unspoken hopes,
in this flow of thoughts and silent desires, we see that true power lies in our unity,
and that the world becomes brighter when we hold hands, when each of us has what we truly deserve.
Categories:
yeses, fantasy,
Form:
Free verse