"aerobics" poems
my brother-in-law’s really fit
I admire him for it
He spends much time
in exercise, in energetic thrusts
He’s a whole aerobics center;
gets all the exercise he needs:
He constantly jumps to conclusions
runs down friends, back-stabs whenever he can
side-steps responsibility
and you could say, is constantly pushing his luck
And pushing it too far too…
and goes round and round in circles
with many false arguments
But one kind thing I can say of him
he’s mindful of my health
for he must have observed how I hardly exercise
and he invites me often to his fitness program
“You scratch my back, I scratch yours,” he says…
But I’m just too lazy even for such effortless exercise
and meanwhile, he continues with his fitness program
namely, as I have said before,
jumping to conclusions and constantly pushing his luck…
while the only thing I can manage
in response to his fitness program
(darned lazy as I am, as he complains to his sis)
is to lift my middle finger
but frankly, my brother-in-law’s really fit
I admire him for it
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 9:08 AM UTC
Benedict Arnold
We see them. Lying in the terrorist trap known as
The Uncomformers. What happened to them?
Did they say enough is enough? Stab their
Old buddies in their already turned backs? Well,
I guess some people just don’t understand….
Look at them!
They’re laughing!
How preposterous! They’re supposed to be lamenting or even just
Giving hushed whispers to someone about everyone else.
I can’t fathom—
How absurd!
The Good Girls
Ohhhhhh My Gosh! Can you like,
See how lame they are?
They just, like, don’t do anything.
I mean, I have never seen any of them at, like, any party!
Crazy! I know. They just keep to themselves,
I guess. But, I mean, come on? No parties!
Do they even know what fun is!?
Last night there was this really awesome one where,
I was dancing…..and drinking….and then I threw up in my boyfriend’s car!
Oh yeah,
Were exes now.
Anyway, I just, like, IDK.
I mean, who wouldn’t want to have the ultimate makeup and beauty?
It’s mind-blowing!
I swear their worlds are all, aerobics and songbirds.
But, whatever, you know?
Peacemaker
Talk about irritating. I hate people
Who stop fights before the crescendo finishes!
Bor-ring! Drama is what I live for.
Just let people ruin their lives already!
I’m dying for some action over here.
Hel-lo! Your “sensible justice” is causing me to have serious
Gossip underload. Stop getting in the
Way of everything! If you would just come in
One second after you usually do, there would be so
Much more to say.
It would be beyond belief if you just,
Go where you belong and stop
Interrupting before some of the most spectacular
Moments in people’s lives.
Iron King
This person is not so simple.
Loners that shield themselves from the world
Freaks that don’t want to experience reality
Maybe he’s evil
Attempting to hide a dark inheritance
Living in his mind, the Devil’s oasis
Visions of wonder and agony expressed throughout
Sending out blind waves of hatred to all who will not follow him into Hell.
Super creep.
I hope he leaves me alone.
I haven’t done anything to him…
May 28, 2012
May 28, 2012 at 12:07 PM UTC
Feeling claustrophobic doing emotional aerobics,
can’t breath so I take a breath and breath in,
and if you can’t be with the one you love,
then love the one you can be with,
time is precious,
can’t waste it,
even though I’m at this terminal,
feeling like a rebel that’s complacent,
typing on these keys,
like they could make a difference,
met Jay-Z and respect Alicia keys,
but this New York State of Mind is indignant,
feels like the world is ending,
feels like no one cares,
feeling like no one feels things,
feels like feeling don’t matter any more,
anyways,
you know what they say,
one moment you feel like you’re on top of the world,
the next moment that feeling goes away,
we’ve got pandemics,
we’ve got floods and fires,
we’ve got a worldwide lockdown,
we’ve got misdirected desires,
we’ve got not a lot left to believe in,
see people I know in the street,
and feel like,
I’ve got nothing to say to them,
dead inside,
still sparked and alive,
still I log on just to turn off,
but I’m not grabbed by anything online,
nothing is exciting,
nope nothing at all,
so I try to drown out my anxieties,
with orange juice and alcohol,
wishing I knew which directions to go in,
wishing I knew if life was real or not,
it’s 2020 it feels like that doesn’t mean anything,
feels like we got way but somehow we are still caught,
here in this moment,
with no one except ourselves,
what do you do if ignorance is bliss,
but knowledge is wealth,
which to choose,
the choice is up to you,
I can’t give you any advice,
because I don’t even know what’s true,
though I do know one thing,
when I take a breath and breath it’s,
if you can’t be with the one you love,
then love the one you can be with….
Jul 13, 2020
Jul 13, 2020 at 12:59 PM UTC
I love to p;lay my stereo very loud
so loud, it can wake up the dead
and force them into total panic
I love to thrash out heavy metal
and every day i say to myself
i like the loud music
It doesn’t have to be heavy metal
It could be 80s disco or 70s disco
we could arrange big parties
with bourbon and coke and beer and champagne
we sit the the stereo on our shoulders near our ears
we suddenly go deaf from the blasting sound
the lead singer of AC/DC had to opt out of the band
TOO MUCH LOUD MUSIC TOO MUCH LOUD MUSIC
sometimes the stereo could be for aerobics
where all of our friends gather together
to keep themselves fit
so that one day the earth will be healthy
and the heavy metal will be needed to chill by
Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 4:04 AM UTC
aerobics ,beauty salon,
poetry session--
beauty care for the mind.
Dec 17, 2011
Dec 17, 2011 at 7:06 AM UTC
Holidays--everyone should reconnect
even with people you see everyday but
never speak to because you can tell
you won't like them...
show them some sunshine and brighten their day
overheard while showering in the women's locker room:
"How's the baby?" "He's four and a half."
Whoops
"Hows Max?"
"He's in Rehab, he's not coaching"
"Ah,oh, ah"
Clothed, she rushes for the door
Continuation with another as I toweled off
"The pool at Concord is cold" "is not" "is" "is not" "well, the air there is cold"
(it's' only five minutes away from here)
Let's try this again, shall we? "So what do you do? I mean, besides swim?"
"I go to water aerobics in the morning
then I swim, then I pick up my kids and swim again. And we had a party and some doctors came over (she looks around, especially at my less than perfect physique,
she is about to expel a naughty, bad word that should never meet the ears of polite company
her eyes are red and look like they will fall out of their sockets
like those little ****** dogs
My friend the vet said one's eyeball fell out during an operation
So he put it back
she's roughly my age, but she has a natural tan in the middle of winter
and the sun has written it's thin lined signature all over her face creating the look
of a satellite image of an area once filled with rivulets of water,
but now experiencing a severe drought
but she truly is 99% fat free)
and they were...OBESE. Can you believe it?"
L'horror.
Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 3:20 PM UTC
Bedside table minds clean paper
Pen at the ready, lying in wait
for wording as I wait for the sandman
Thoughts pole vaulting at high speed
tossing, and turning then settling
unable to make it over the top
Mind frozen in time with selections
untamed uneducated words, hitchhiking
around my head, seeking new adventures
on paper with other more interesting fellows
Words stuck in the corners of my mind
spring cleaning energy is needed here
to pull them out of their aerobics class
Forcing the words down my right arm
in Gymnastic style movements
out of my pen they stream endlessly
inking up the page in the stillness
But I dare not move to switch on the light
for the theme will be broken for all time
Jan 29, 2016
Jan 29, 2016 at 1:18 PM UTC
So... I'm the open minded girl who speaks her mind and is hated because she has no filter. So here's what happened: Me, being me, walks up to this random guy i find vary cute and tell him. Now, two weeks later he starts talking to me. We both just sit with one friend by the library; Me with my best friend on the east side of the wall and him and his, i'm assuming, best friend on the west and the two just sit and watch me and my friend talk and laugh and fool around. And I really like him, on the occasions we have talked i have grown to like him but we are a grade apart, he is a sophomore and i'm A freshman (but i was held back) and i have aerobics the same hour he has gym and we pass each other in the hallways and he has this really cute flirtations he only uses when he smiles at me. I am rambling on like an idiot but i don't care, i want to get this off my chest. all im saying is i don't know if he likes me or is trying to be polite, I'm so confused!!! when i found out his name, it was sean
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 5:14 PM UTC
Im serving lifes with this pen/
Convicted for Killing time
Im
Eternally trapped within/
For my sins
Solitarily confined
In these lines
where do I begin/
Can you read between them
It never ends/
The margin is marginal/
Carte blanch
Ive over stepped my boundaries
Broke the rule cardinal/
Now Im in an invisible/
cell feeling miserable/
My time shouldve been
More productive
This is NA Not Applicable/
23 hours in the whole
Lost ours in part
Another 60 gone/
Thought is food
scarf down words/
Appetite absurd clearly just observe/
work the mind
Stay fit/
only way to survive inside
Mental aerobics Various signs/
Shape it
chin up chin down equals a syllable/
My own worst enemy
My dictions despicable/
Train everyday to enhance
Considerable/
For I know never leaving
These sentences for life/
Are habitual/
Even before I got booked
They extradited my freedom/
The right to write
When I tried to free lance
I was just free writing/
They cuffed my free hands
Life sentence to this pen
Now they want my annihilation
Too many things gone missing punctuations
Jan 26, 2017
Jan 26, 2017 at 12:51 PM UTC
Sweet, sterile, smooth, smothering
Epithelial aerobics abound
Cells curl and desiccate like tips of leaves past their prime -
Just give me one second.
I now live authentically, I say to myself
My heart is in the mountains
Despite words gurgled from my sweaty face in the swirling splendid solitude of darkness –
“Help!” is what I mean to say, but as I break the barrier between liquid and atmosphere
It is the air that chokes my breath -
Just one moment.
Bacterial bile bubbles up
At the sight of
Dirt – contamination – fear
Everywhere.
In pores
Out of pores
Under nails –
No, no more nails now –
Stuck deep inside my skin –
That no brush’s bristles can ever scrub away
Still, I try – God knows I try! –
Skin raw and red and deserving.
They’re in my wounds, too –
Salts and chemicals I choose to douse
But it only eats deeper
There is a ragged red hole in my skin now -
Just give me one second.
Jaw tight, teeth ache, head pounds
Hands dry despite the fatiguing humidity
So it helps to see the crimson creeping up the flag of my disposition
I like this proof of biological clarity,
Like rainwater gliding up the capillaries of a plant
In reverse -
So just hold on one moment.
There was a time when I felt truly free,
I know it in my heart of hearts.
I was free once
Certainly, I was free
I was free
I was truly free -
So just give me one second.
Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
Time to concoct something the doctors can't counter
Callous my temper with imitation, an elation that makes an earthquake feel a bit sounder
If I told you I was a chameleon you would think I'm a laughing sensation
Like a small town crowd of people with personalities no deeper than flounder
But if you hit me I temper like brass in a manner of class saturation, trying to become a metal that cannot be bent or shaken by voices that are louder
Your mirror's can't see me, only you
I copy and pasted your binary in my caffeine induced computer architect blues
If I told you the color of envy was green, would you see right through my chameleon mirage tailored J. Crew
My scales aren't slimy, although you'd figure so by the way I march around in the conviction of my intelligent muse
I'm so perfect in being perfect, it's almost a clue
But paint me another color of your choosing, to mask the mask I'm wearing over my bruising
You wouldn't know what I scream behind all that I'm hiding because it's sealed under all of the mumbles of my crying
I'm calling your faintest noticeable attraction to grow to know my horrendous transaction interactions
When you sit in your desk chair with your tobacco relaxion, judging every crescendo of my orchestra tastes and core reactions
What say you demon for your jailing taxes, and your horns and your perfect brand named wood stained glasses?
Your cuff is off, your deliverance remarkable, you're becoming a ******* classic just by the stale look that your grin passes
Im not ready for aerobics, I'm not elastic, most will tell you if you try bending me into fantastic, I'm not very static
That's why imitation is suicide when you're not dynamic, looking down the barrel of a factory stack of envy plastics
Mar 30, 2015
Mar 30, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
upright, I display the dead
battery
of my dreams.
daylight
is the bald spot
of my father’s
god.
of late, rumors
have surfaced
in regards
to my mother’s
infamously
pastoral
aerobics.
how to jack
a scarecrow
off. how to go
unheard
by the occupant
of an outhouse.
most people are not women, and think
only
in birth
scenes.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 3:29 PM UTC
Writing is my love that
never betrays.
It doesn't lie or
cheat.
It never complains that I
leave the toilet seat up or
that I leave hairs in the sink.
It has never said, "You drink too much or
not enough." It always wins the bets,
sets the sun, and skins the cat.
It's always raw and never
well done—medium rare at
worst, and never burnt.
It doesn't ask me to
do aerobics or yoga, and it
would never tell me to quit smoking;
I would stake my life on it.
Writing is my love that
will be with me until
the end.
Jan 26, 2021
Jan 26, 2021 at 4:42 PM UTC
I told my doctor how when I get really upset I see clouds.
I told her that it looks like someone chain-smoked a whole pack of cigarettes in the time it took me to blink.
She told me she can't explain it.
She told me I need glasses.
I told her I need new medication, that these ones aren't working anymore.
She told me that I'm not letting them.
She told me that depression comes in waves.
And if I stop fighting them, they'll come and go with ease.
She told me to build a raft.
I told her I don't know how.
I don't know how to tell her that I'm drowning.
I don't know how to tell her that these "waves" have turned into rip tides and now I'm so far out that I'm lost at sea.
Excuse me miss, but how do you build a raft when you're never on shore?
She told me I need to start exercising; I guess water aerobics aren't enough.
I told her that I can't breathe.
She told me I might have asthma.
I told her water must have filled my lungs.
I told her that I used to identify as the calm before the storm.
But now I'm a category 5 hurricane.
I told her I've got winds up to 250 mph.
But I still can't find air.
And I'm sorry, Miss Meteorologist, but land won't slow me down.
I told her that I have and will destroy everything in my path.
She told me that now that I've hit land, I can pick up the debris and build a raft.
I told her I'd try.
She told me hello and asked how my raft is coming along.
I told her that my craftsmanship is sub-par.
I told her that the clouds were back.
I told her that she's the reason I can't look at water without it running down my face.
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
Vide World Wide Web at hand,
Working fast at finger tips,
Tab on table-top or lap-top,
Access thru windows tip-top.
Wise and wild web-sites host,
Millions of web-masters hoist.
Click mouse on cursor left or right,
Flood of information flows straight.
Once called cob-web of clumsy corner,
Assumed cozy-web of closed circuit,
World netted by the web of electrons,
Caught by wonders of wizard web.
All pervasive, populous and popular,
Globalized and glorious in daily life
Visible to none in bytes of zero and one
Countless websites encounter the day
Spins in speed and spurs out smart
Dabble or wobble; it helps you to win
Operate thru internet and intranet
It co-operates with the systems in net
Browse; it arouses what you wish
Surf; it brings to surface on screen
Press ‘Enter’ key to control and command
It churns out cheese you choose.
Work from home or humming air craft,
Mail in or mail out to bail out the day,
Respond or correspond; it carries brisk,
Transponder is miles above free from risk
Subject any subject to Google search,
Sure, objects bound abound and surround,
Web in and out not to be caught in wild web,
Key-Board is key to board your success.
Microsoft hits on monitor like macro shaft,
Prevail and avail link and avoid day’s void,
Let us harness aerobics of electrons,
And witness acrobatics of electronics.
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 11:58 AM UTC
I take Bibilical aqua aerobics down at the local YMCA, talk about two Ginas and one Richard hah! That'll *** up your mind... You're thankfully welcome... Wow, man **** when is this after note going to end? Ohhh , I just realized that I said Wo-man **** which is just a totally different connotation than man, **** which just to be safe we can all agree moving forward that, that comma belongs between the man, and the **** ohh **** **** ahh I can't believe I'm still reading this **** what the **** wait what was I going to do again? Now this ******* has me sidetracked with his slanted Jedi writing, I'm never reading any of his **** again,
Yeah well imagine what it's like to be the mind that writes this...???
Who are we really? I could tell you, **** ****
Me - 3 You- 0
Burned
Apr 29, 2016
Apr 29, 2016 at 12:08 PM UTC
We experience xenogenesis
A horse births a Pegasus
Metamorphosis
Of a horse in mist
It starts to get ******
Adding its colt to its list
Of things it won't miss
Pick a side
To abide
Be a bride
Of the tide
Of our pride
That divides
Listen to me
Glisteningly
Christening thee
As all I can see
So strangers flee
Ending my need
To follow their lead
Roundtable
Clowns label
A painful angle
Of Cain and Abel
By cutting cables
Becoming stable
By turning tables
On their fellow man
Making a bellow band
Of the yellow brand
For this well of sand
Has the smell of demand
Creating the hell at hand
It's a figment
Or a signet
Of a big net
A pig let
On a rigged bet
For a jig jet
Band of brothers
Versus others
Killing colors
Paint by numbers
Tainted slumber
Heart of lumber
That they sunder
Then they wonder
Why we're under
All of their vision
Is in a jingoism
Single prism
Decision
Of derision
No precision
To their incisions
The faithful fractions
Of fateful factions
Don't face their actions
But race to reaction
At the pace of passion
To their racist bastion
Darkened tracks
Harken back
To white and black
Skies of flak
From the attacks
Of baritone blaster
Carrion caster
Natural disasters
Killing our pastors
Becoming our masters
So we'd die faster
Counterculture vultures
And contrarian poachers
Convince the loafers
They'll be heard
If they say the right word
Diamonds assured
In a deal absurd
They promise ailment mending
But it's a clever sale sending
A fairytale ending
Of only people we love
And God up above
Nodding in approval
Of the other's removal
So the problem's renewal
Is an unbreakable jewel
These xenophobic aerobics
Corroded and loaded
Us into a low den
Where we're so dead
We can't use our own head
So we make our own bed
And we make it with dread
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 7:31 PM UTC
As I reach the last stair,
I discover a high rise shrine
When I stare at the peak,
I'm close to fall on my head
It has a large baroque door,
Not closed, so I enter
I leave all the maps outside
I'm full of spice and zeal
I see an elevator facing me,
push the illuminated buttons,
envelope myself in the dove,
and it takes me as a letter
Into the highest floor, I fly
When I land on the terrace,
the man made-day falls asleep,
and the night sky erupts
I find an abandoned telescope,
remove the dust mask,
put my brown seeing aerola
around the soft eyepiece
The silver optical tube
absorbs my golden vision,
takes it on a celestial mission
Delving into the cosmos in chroma
I see a lumen hanging
like a washing line
between two galaxies
An odyssey to discover my heirloom
Now I'm a brainbox,
I surrender myself to
this luminous flux
It looks like a feeder of earth
Everything turns anaerobic,
when Angeline and her siblings
begin to play trumpets along
A hymn for the Oxygen Crisis
I put all the aerobics in vitro,
in order to live in vivo
I'm in the S shaped column,
the centromere of the soma
In a blink of an eye,
an asteroid hits my lighthouse
My kernel explodes
I'm trapped in a series of epochs
My nom de guerre is Helios
The sun calls me Apollo
Driving a chariot of joy
with two racing horses
Until meiosis begins
A king is announced
when a stallion dies
Nucleus or karyon
And I drop back as an ****
Embryo into an egg
thrown in a steam
From Eve to a man sunk in debt
Apr 17, 2018
Apr 17, 2018 at 8:08 PM UTC
I woke up early in the morning,
I bent,
I twisted,
I gyrated,
I jumped up and down,
After half an hour I was sweating,
At last I had my leotards on,
That was enough of aerobics for me.
13/11/2019
Nov 13, 2019
Nov 13, 2019 at 9:43 AM UTC
(A repost from 2019)
My favorite aunt is dying.. cancer, quiet and consuming as a flame..
Seven short weeks ago she was easily doing an hour of step aerobics, unaware of this intruder, this murderer within. Now she's lifted from bed like a rag doll.
She is my mom, well, a near twin—only smaller, funnier, serpent sly, more heavenly childish, sapient with sweet attractive grace and modest pride.
I am in total awe of her. We're kindred spirits, two sillies among the dull and endlessly serious.
I feel her, see her, day by day, slipping away like the hastening angel of heaven foretold.
This is too big for me, too awful and too close.
I am struck helpless, nothing moves, I sit, hardly feeling, and watch her sleep. Death's cruel process suddenly made visible.
I silently rage at the loss of it—my loudest vehemence pointed to this ravenous, lurking enemy pursuing her inwardly like a swarm of deadly hornets accidentally composed.
40 and still stunningly beautiful, she lies surrounded by computers, iPads, phones, faxes, intercoms, notepads, friends and care-givers. Her life reduced to escaping pain and making arrangements for her soon to be orphaned children 4 and 6.
Fentanyl and other pain blockers are her nourishment and seem to work better in the daylight as lawyers garner powers of attorney, bankers conjure trusts and estate planners build foundations to protect small children from a mothers loss.
As if they could replace a single hug
.
.
Songs for this (Gospel music):
Order My Steps by The Brooklyn Tabernacle Choir
Angel by Sarah McLachlan
Jesus Loves Me by Whitney Houston
Apr 9, 2025
Apr 9, 2025 at 8:40 AM UTC
Nothing happens here
In the next village, a man was trapped under his tractor
and in another village, a man fell out of an oak tree
No one asked what he was doing there but his
trousers’ zip was open which caused endless rumours
he also had binoculars, so he was a bird watcher then
only most birds have flown to Africa this time of year.
Emma, the nurse, lives nearby, and she always keeps
a window open when she does her aerobics in the nude
My left leg hurts I have to use a crutch had a fall you see
but not in our village nothing happens here.
Dec 15, 2016
Dec 15, 2016 at 4:41 AM UTC
*does anything make life meaningful
will it ever make sense
or are we destined to cry for eternity
simply let go and be free
give measure and comparison a rest
set your intentions high
follow the sun
and become musically sensitive
as we make our arrows sharp
we become sparks of the divine
no theories can ever contain this
no words could ever express it
it remains a mystery
yes we can point to the divine
like a finger pointing at the sky
but still the divide is infinite
even as the divine is immanent
there are no splits just unity
yet the girl performs her aerobics
with grace and precision
each split a vision of eternity
i seek lightning and trudge up mountains
you follow rivers and kiss the comfrey
i peak behind the curtain
and smell the sweet embers burning*
Nov 21, 2017
Nov 21, 2017 at 11:19 AM UTC