"dumbbells" poems
Hit the gym hard
Squats for legs strengthen those quads
Bench press for chest gets the pump
Hit it right make it tight
Isolations with dumbbells
Form is everything
More reps with less weight
Maxs out test of strength
Heavy weight less reps
Finish strong last set
Stretch to warm up
Stretch to cool down
Cardio for the heart rate
Gym time best time
Progress body change
Mind set ready for more
Mar 8, 2013
Mar 8, 2013 at 4:32 AM UTC
Shows strength,
But no courage.
Shows what he is made of,
But he just light luggage.
Don't let them ruin you,
They already ruin themselves.
You better then them,
Pathetic waste...
More stupid then their dumbbells.
Watch out for you may feel weak,
But you are a champion.
It's only fear they seek...
Jun 19, 2014
Jun 19, 2014 at 2:48 PM UTC
There is a bus stop I stand by everyday
Around me is every person who has ever hurt me or let me down
They stand here with me day by day
When the bus comes I'm the last to get on every single time
I stand awkwardly as all of the seats fill
As usual there are no empty seats left for me
I must pick the lesser of my evil's and choose one each day
The heaviness of the fear and panic sink into my core
As I place myself beside one of them once more
Today however as I stood with the others as I stand everyday
I felt their hollow eyes burn into my back
As the bus arrived I saw it load with all these people that detest me
With all the memories that they carry
All the memories that weigh like dumbbells on my being
And for once I just stand there
I do not get on
And I watch as the bus full of all these things I hate
Drives away as another appears
It stops before me and the door opens as the driver beckons me to get in
It isn't my bus, but I still drag my feet forward
As if pulled by an invisible force like a magnet I can't pull myself away
When I enter I see other passengers
Not all of the seats are full, in fact many are empty
But it still feels full, yet not stuffy
I feel welcome as I stand in the aisle of the bus
I'm dragged down by a brown eyed beauty
And I feel like for once I've found my place
Within this bus filling with the things I love, with people I trust
Aug 30, 2018
Aug 30, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
And these dumbbells stuck to my back. Will melt away with pain of the past
No more dread of will it last
They say nothing is forever
**** that, we'll ride first class
Nov 30, 2014
Nov 30, 2014 at 11:14 PM UTC
in the wild, there is nothing mild,
oh sure, there are sedate centipedes,
bobbing butterflies, owl calls that
echo along forest walls, even the plants
can supplant your will to live,
but today
a different sort of experience,
they showed their teeth,
the puffed and snorted,
I didn't dare retort,
and did not make eye contact,
then on the streets,
some physically assault,
some slink in shadows,
take out hockey moms,
and eighty year women
with purses, curse these cowards,
but today,
surrounded in a confrontation zone,
my heart beat wildly in my chest,
my arms and legs felt heavy and tired,
I prayed for protection in this test,
of wills, they flex their muscled limbs and
are not alone, while I flew solo,
at ground level, staring bared teeth,
and territorial ownership at stake,
I was looking for two dumbbells to finish
my work out
©DWE012014
Jan 6, 2014
Jan 6, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
Numbness coats my skin
it coats my eyes
my mouth, my brain, my legs
I can barely move
nor do i want to
dumbbells are on top of each shoulder blades
they hung down on my cheeks
they become the shirts I wear
my shoes...
my eyelids
Tired
I'm waiting to be set free from these chains
these awkward chains
and people stare at me
question why I put my head down in long silence
help me, no don't
I'll be okay
I let the dumbbells drag me to the ground
Let me add on its process
I don't want to be here no more
don't want to see the world around me
don't want to feel the touch of predetermine passions
there is nothing but numbness and weight
But what about the light?
who cares, I rather die
then wait
Nov 6, 2015
Nov 6, 2015 at 1:51 PM UTC
He pushed the weight of the world
To the top of the milky way
And he leaned, and he sighed
As the world rolled away
He put the globe on his shoulders
As he prepared to climb again
He shrugged and it shuddered
Spreading fear to little men
Igby! Igby, my boy!
I feel it coming down on me!
This pressure, this weight!
Why can I not be free?
Some weights are corporeal
Like the dumbbells at the barbell
Tabs overflowing, drinks and meals
These simple weights are easy to quell
Then there are the really heavy ones
The ones no eyes can see
The ones that drag us down to earth
That make it hard to flee
Our words and obligations
All form a lofty load
We are all carrying something
Along our personal roads
And our roads, they go forever
But, to where?
No one knows...
Jun 10, 2021
Jun 10, 2021 at 2:42 PM UTC
in someone's house, there's a photograph
it's framed by the front door, almost on display
it's there for visitors to see and believe
and I'm not quite sure how they fall for it.
in the photo is a happy family
a daughter, a mom, and a dad
all smiling and loving and caring and happy.
they see cheery, normal people.
hey deceived they must feel.
but the girl? she was a boy.
she was he who wasn't himself.
he was confined to a body of all pink and bursting with estrogen
he was she who was he who was trapped
and his father hated him.
yelling and shouting "christina! christina!"
tears falling like dumbbells on unsuspecting toes
"chris! chris!" he'd yell back
but only in his brain
because the daddy-daughter dances
had already been attended.
bruises from beatings that couldn't be healed
but the happy photo still hung in the hall
and even as chris watched the rings go
from left hands to right he still hid behind
that perfect, happy family.
and the people failed to see through it.
Jan 3, 2018
Jan 3, 2018 at 2:24 AM UTC
The bags under my eyes are so packed
that they’re ready for a two week long trip to Japan
The weights on my eyelids are so heavy
that they’re lifting 15 lbs dumbbells as a 5th grader
The crunch of my voice is so thick
that it’s driving on a gravel back road at 10 mph
My body is so exhausted
that it may as well be buried six feet under without a bell tied to my hand.
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC
To Be Pressed By A Dumbbell
Two fifteen pound
steely danse sing
wrought iron dumbbells
ill-tempered, impatiently,
and intensely a weight
their turn to hmm... press me,
and forthwith dense trait
heavy handed prestidigitation
to yours truly, this primate
currently attempting
to craft sad excuse
for a poem, sans far fetched
notion, aye trite re: late
engendering, foisting, and goading
bizarre lifelike qualities
to inanimate solid helpmate
to build (and/or oven
just tone) muscles bitterly, painfully,
resignedly wince, where washboard
abdomen long a goner
impossible to recoup,
whar hide didst narrate
ting hours sculpting great
former Adonis build
on these, now nada so lovely
bones, and experience
spiritual strife to oscillate,
perhaps witness sing
angst to esse skill late
heady feeling healthy vim within
myself, how just
with verily at least dedicate
half hour exercise can be great
for body, mind, and
soul triage, otherwise...
basic gravitational laws
of physics gladly
hand me unwanted fate,
how gradually physique
will eventually demonstrate
flabby, droopy, and
unwanted addy post tissue create
ting another reason to berate,
castigate, emasculate, where
self repudiation will germinate
(albeit, thence in extremis), yours truly
doth relinquish fitness regime
resulting sparking, and taste
testing casus belli dictate
tête-à-tête, viz hasty
unconditional surrender to
a void mortal kombat,
which latter, would exterminate,
the forces of yin and yang,
re: lee (I rub hurts) loch cur,
thence finding me fraught,
(yule hiss see - uselessly)
grant ting soul
option to disintegrate,
in the event emotional civil war,
rents asunder every fiber
of mine being, which
wrath wracked wraith self destruction
twill woefully satiate.
Oct 18, 2018
Oct 18, 2018 at 3:37 PM UTC