Best Yippee Poems
courtesy of management in general
and particularly Jackie Geiger
assistant property agent.
One benefit living social
at Highland Manor Apartments
until decrepit and bent...
constitutes qualifying for reimbursement
direct deposited into checking
as chump change event,
hence one generic grateful gent
feels self satisfied as Clark Kent.
After broken wing and prayer
granted courtesy The Flying Tigers
at long last located valuable information
issued December of each year
surprisingly enough exactly where
social security (2021) 1099 form
remained untouched, I swear,
yet earlier yesterday April 5th, 2022
at 1500 hours though very near,
and finally located necessary documentation
(think rental rebate) here
with unexpected discovery
birthed following poem aware
many if not all avid readers
will not care, nor give rat's a$$
regarding humdrum minor dilemma
involving one bonafide
*****sapiens merely
bruising himself – common Joe
garden variety generic biomass,
nonetheless, he fetes, lauds, tauts...
rental rebate tantamount
approximating financial reimbursement
without being unduly crass.
Thus reasonable rhyme
yours truly doth aire
without stut... stut...
stuttering, yet no guarantee
wordsworth their weight
in gold will ring clear
more likely receive
frosty reception everywhere
across world wide web,
perhaps with unwelcome glare,
yet profuse apology
if man with wit - me,
(i.e. Whitman) didst unwittingly interfere
with unwanted distraction
courtesy bobbing square
pants donned sponge
soaking up precious time (yours)
foolish longfellow rushing in where
one capricorn long since wed
not nsync, but alone,
cuz angels fear to tread
"quod erat demonstrandum"
forgotten Latin accessed
at least once year
when yours truly crafts poetry
more familiarly recognized as Q.E.D.
(shares close pronunciation
with ska quid word)
ditch costs extra nay saying
horse sense according to Ned,
whoop sorry, I meant mister Ed.
There was a black beetle named May
Who lived with a frog in some hay
Together they would roam
Adventures far from home
Singing yippe-Ki-yay all day
Ben raised up a dern disappointment, Daddy, well, he wanted a boy.
Wasn’t nothing under the bleeding red sun Ma could do but keep on a tryin’
Ya’siree, she was one branded filly and dern iffin that filly didn’t birth a maverick.
Daddy, well he had him some hard times a com’n
and he didn’t ev’n try to hide his fallen face when Sis was born.
that un, well, she was maverick number two!
Daddy was the devil may care sort and him and his seed strayed far afield,
sowing his wild oats, praying for an heir, he himself was one
‘slick hairy dick’ so to speak [that’s cowboy lingo for a maverick himself]
and you know what they say, “The cow plop don’t fall far from its ****”
He kept on pokin’ Ma ‘till he got that boy, all nine caterwauling pounds!
Dynasty founded, one hell of a shindig was thrown, as luck would have it,
Dad strayed, but not before he taught his gal’s not to take guff from any man!
Out on the range, Dad rounded up a couple more Betty’s
“Yehaw, did that brand sizzle” got his self a couple more bucko’s
for the dynasty and another sweet filly, all of them mavericks to the core.
Funny thing is old Dad’s gal’s got more balls then most men.
So, I guess in the end [wink] he taught us well!
*This is a Cowboy Poem, it is a maverick to it's form because
Cowboy poetry is rhymed, metered verse written by someone who has lived a significant portion of his or her life in Western North American cattle culture. The verse reflects an intimate knowledge of that way of life, and the community.
[Never lived in the West, don't like anything that looks at me with one eye!
"...names have been changed to protect the innocent."
P.S. I'm the maverick!
An horseshoe should bring you good luck
Although it is covered in muck
The horse may go lame
But you're not to blame
Your mother-in-law-needs a buck
A million dollars!
Are you kidding me?
I would have been happy with a million cents,
A million fried shrimp, a million point on Allpoetry.
But a million dollars!
What?
You are not kidding, right?
First I dance around the room, then I get all my lists out.
I have been thinking about this for years.
I want my own fire truck - not a toy one, but a real one.
I want my own art barn, complete with loft, and a spiral staircase.
Three-story, but now, well, why don't we must make it four-stories?
Pop in an elevator too.
Why be chintzy?
An elevator at both ends!
Next I will go to the pound and release all the dogs.
I am the new owner, am I not?
We will need to buy them an island, and I will have to
hire some care-takers; children probably, for they talk dog the best.
A million dollars! I am going to be so selfish! More selfish
Than I have ever been before.
Just ask me for money.
The answer is no.
I am greedy already, and I love it!
A tradition of the holidays
no need to take a survey;
John McClane firing
Hans Gruber falling
just reply with Yippee ki yay.
Chalk up the above
tummy knocker round
motley fool whimsical caprice
forever one generic
(ewe among us) scapegoat
bullied, lambasted, ostracized...
simian still silently suffering
life threatening wounds
since no protective Jason,
nor the Golden Fleece
shielded me against
Tormentors of Torghast even after
becoming gratefully dead,
struck by lightning bolts well greased
they will still increase
only difference when nonexistence prevails,
versus while given lease
as run(t) of the mill mortal
doth finally welcoming peace
of body, mind and spirit.
Aforestated gallimaufry mishmash
hoopfully doth explain
tangentially, loosely and amazingly
one after another graceful linkedin refrain
now heeds intuitive trumpeted
clarion call moon faced
cybersurfer to wax and wane.
Roll up welcome Harris tweed
Scottish tartan mat after
lame attempt bing witty and wise
fame and fortune elude,
nevertheless logophile continuously tries
this April 6th, 2022 no surprise
quotidian series of Lemony Snicket induced
unfortunate circumstances did rise
every hour these myopic eyes
blinked cognitive depth youthfulness belies,
when dawning consciousness did arise.
Yippee High Bow
Repeat after me
Hippee Y Bow I say
He shakes his head, but is still patient
Yippee
Yippee
High
High
Bow
Bow
I smile at him. He is four. “What does it mean?”
“It means I love you, you are my sweetheart.”
I will remember this forever.
Yippee High Bow.