Best Exertion Poems
Underneath all the layers
Of tradition
Of religion
Of philosophy
Of reason and understanding
I smolder
In passion's pleasure bed of red
Paroxysms of pleasure
Emanate from my core
Searing the shroud
Flames of fantasy's feast burn
Yearning I yearn and lie in wait
In my ambuscade
with the relish to ravish ravaging
every fiber
Conceived in the throes of passion
My conception is my perception of life
Woven into my being
I’m prisoner to pleasure monomania
Obsession of desire hysteria
My cacoethes: gratification gratified
Thus, I scintillate sparks
Riding on my satin flares
They captivate your stare
You see me
Feeling the heat of sultry flame
You want to play scorch torch game
So your reach out to touch
Mere kindling in my blazing wake
You quake as I slake your florid fantasy awake
Convulsing in temptation’s torment
You combust to lust
Consummating till consumed
Eliciting my passion flower bloom
In opulent oriental room
You swoon
Exertion exhausted
Gratification’s glory gained
Having tasted my reign
Revived, you leave
Yet…
My image I’ve seared
On your flesh and mind
Branded, you’ll find
Your way back to me
Slave to my passion's decree
You’ll come to me
And I retreat
Enshrouded once more
In virgin layers
Of tradition
Of religion
Of philosophy
of reason and understanding
Biding my time
when sensuality sublime
calls me
to bloom in her red flame
~*~*~*~again~*~*~*~
Eileen Manassian
This is a repost that has over a thousand views. Just trying to remind myself of the glory days. I seem to be unable to write at the moment....and poets can be a strange lot. If you don't post...you're forgotten, at least by most. The feeding frenzy is for words..and if you're empty, you are neglected. I'm glad I have friends who visit my older works even when I'm not around. I need to cultivate this spirit in my life because I know what it's like not to be visited....
Categories:
exertion, sensual,
Form:
Free verse
Underneath all the layers
Of tradition
Of religion
Of philosophy
Of reason and understanding
I smolder
In passion's pleasure bed of red
Paroxysms of pleasure
Emanate from my core
Searing the shroud
Flames of fantasy's feast burn
Yearning I yearn and lie in wait
In my ambuscade
with the relish to ravish ravaging
every fiber
Conceived in the throes of passion
My conception is my perception of life
Woven into my being
I’m prisoner to pleasure monomania
Obsession of desire hysteria
My cacoethes: gratification gratified
Thus, I scintillate sparks
Riding on my satin flares
They captivate your stare
You see me
Feeling the heat of sultry flame
You want to play scorch torch game
So your reach out to touch
Mere kindling in my blazing wake
You quake as I slake your florid fantasy awake
Convulsing in temptation’s torment
You combust to lust
Consummating till consumed
Eliciting my passion flower bloom
In opulent oriental room
You swoon
Exertion exhausted
Gratification’s glory gained
Having tasted my reign
Revived your leave
Yet…
My image I’ve seared
On your flesh and mind
Branded, you’ll find
Your way back to me
Slave to my passion's decree
You’ll come to me
And I retreat
Enshrouded once more
In virgin layers
Of tradition
Of religion
Of philosophy
of reason and understanding
Biding my time
when sensuality sublime
calls me
to bloom in her red flame
Eileen
Categories:
exertion, identity, image, passion,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I like to exercise my mind, but how I hate to work.
Whatever needs exertion is the action that I shirk.
Labor with the brain is fine. I do it all the time.
How I love to sit and read or think of words that rhyme.
But send me to the bathroom with a brush so that I'll scrub,
and I'll barely rub the ring off. Then I'll lie there in the tub.
Peek inside; you'll find me, a novel in one hand,
resting as I'm soaking in my own little Bubble Land.
Clean the oven? What a joke. The most that I can stand
is loading up the wash machine (a task that's merely bland).
Maybe run the vacuum once a week across the floor,
and quickly dab where dust is bad; most stuff I ignore.
As my jobs all pile up, housework's even more a chore.
Why must work that's physical be such a dreadful bore?
My well-ingrained aversion to utilizing muscle
does have one exception: at the gym I like to hustle.
To kick box is so fun although it makes me sweaty.
Step and dance are choreographed. For those I'm always ready.
But I wish that just as quickly as from running on a tread
I could burn up calories doing workouts in my head!
Categories:
exertion, funny, workme,
Form:
Quatrain
Thus we follow little Puff Puff brave and true,
For the Castle of Magic was within her view…
She will journey far under the skies of blue,
When she gets there, will she know what to do?
The Dragon Queen was angered and sent her men,
To look for little Puff Puff for she had escaped again…
“No one shall leave the Queen” from her Dragons den,
Huffing & puffing letting loose a fireball now and then…
Yet little Puff Puff journeyed tranquil and quite serene,
Unknowing she had tempered her Grandma, the Queen…
She decides to rest upon a rock near a relaxing ravine,
She sees movement followed by a silent smoke screen…
“Hi” a welcoming smile, “I’m Heidi the holographic fairy”
Created by the Queen for the forest to be rather scary…
Over time she had become kind & gentle on the contrary,
Thus venturing together toward the Castle joyful & merry…
Just behind them the Queen’s henchmen Victor & Gershon,
Protectors of the land who would tickle you upon desertion…
“Stop! Now, by the Queen’s command, your exiling exertion”
The men being weary, asked to tag along in their conversion…
Off they went, now a foursome to reckon as happy as can be,
The Castle a stone throw away, with water above their knee…
Puff Puff & her crew decided to cross the water in their spree,
But it was too much for Victor & Gershon for they had to pee…
The Castle in sight, the drawbridge opens observing the team,
Slowly tippy-toeing in, huddled together they hear a scream…
Before them stood a magnificent creature out from the steam,
“State your business, for I am Illuminatra the Empress supreme”
...to be continued...with more characters!!!
Oct.14.2019
Composed by Winged Warrior
Background...Internet Composite
Two-Headed Dragons & Little Puff Puff...Illustrated by Winged Warrior
Background Music...Children's Fairy-Tales from the Internet
With a female virtual voice
The story is based upon Aklia, Brenda Chiri's beautiful granddaughter
Thanks to everyone for their comments & making this poem POTD
Categories:
exertion, 1st grade, character, children,
Form:
Rhyme
Written: December 13, 2023
____________________________________________
If the ocean's water
were used as writing ink for pens
to write down our words of praise
the ocean would eventually dry up
before it might be put in writing.
evil will triumph
if the righteous remain silent
Inner defect causes blindness
success depends on action
stand up and do what
you realize is right
raise exertion level
a smidgeon suffices
to allow notions of impetus
you can then sleep well
your pick is akin to lacerations
requires precise timing
curious but uncertain.
blind attrition is pointless.
reach for stars
obtain an aerial view of the world
wave farewell to the land
live easily a prospective granted by
you are misusing beauty
greet the passing clouds.
forsake worries and avert your gaze
fear is a foe you must overcome
soar high and be wise.
Categories:
exertion, appreciation, dream, encouraging, hope,
Form:
Free verse
Jet skiing - it's all the fun of water skiing with none of the exertion!
Written for One Liner 4 Poetry Contest of Silent One
Categories:
exertion, sports,
Form:
Monoku
They don't speak
those walls
only absorb
scraps of life
the stench of urine
lucky pennies
desperate art
and a ringing clamber of voices
that move with every rush of air
down winding subway tunnels
here life collides
in status
and in thunders
those walls
bear witness
to many miseries
and many wonders
on this day
the subway walls
mesmerised by a sight
never seen before
lamented
the death of beauty
as it passed thousands
gracefully
and ignored
rushing
skirts, pants, collars, cologne
rushing
fingers, slender, darting in a blur
hollow
minds, tempers, hellos and goodbyes
hollow
music, echoing, not a soul does it stir
lost
man to the intricate beauty of pattern
lost
eyes of passerbys to the empty roundabouts of life
fickle
strings snapping with the stress of exertion
fickle
ambition, love, expectation and strife
they were all mixed together
in a bowl of concrete walls
they whirled
six of Bach's greatest works
a handcrafted violin
from 1713
played by one of the greatest
violinists
in the world
he played incognito
only six people stopped
20 gave him money
and then continued
to walk
a three year old boy
was drawn
to the sound
his mother let him
listen
his eyes wide
and astound
but watches soon tick
and they tick too loud
and they drive
the crowd forward
as if stopping
is not allowed
Joshua Bell
let his bow fall limp
as the last of his music
was swallowed
by the whitenoise
of life
and screeching
metro trains
the only sound
of applaud
soon stolen
by a new rush of air
the subway walls
silent
reflect
people would find peace
in the thick of life
if only
they would
connect.
Categories:
exertion, art, introspection, life, music,
Form:
Free verse
In youth, vacations lent my Summers wings
and Christmas gilded wintertime in gold.
I've aged (a bit) and love my Falls and Springs
for landing in between too hot or cold.
In time, I've learned it doesn't pay to be
too up or down, too rich or poor, too round
or thin. Avoiding each extremity,
I balance life by seeking middle ground.
I used to have my weight control down pat,
then physical exertion simply froze.
I'm somewhere south of fit and north of fat;
my muscles shrink yet still my middle grows.
As seasons come and go, I grow more sage;
I know the meaning now of "middle" age.
Categories:
exertion, age,
Form:
Sonnet
We search for it ceaselessly
each in his own way
Exertion, exhaustion
day after day
For all we fall short
we press weary on
A Promised Land
such striving
depends upon
February 6, 2021
All Yours (Feb 9) Contest
Sponsor: Brian Strand
Categories:
exertion, dedication, dream, growth, motivation,
Form:
Rhyme
The trailhead stands there before me,
after two hour's drive,
a peak with a panorama
that others call sublime.
I have been meaning to climb it,
test my will and my heart,
cannot believe it took this long
just to come out this far.
First half-mile is the hardest,
the legs start feeling strain,
bored by long hours of sitting
now they rebel at pain.
Wonder why I keep doing this,
but still I do not stop,
settle into a standard pace
the pain begins to drop.
Around me is a vast forest,
everything looks alike,
like I'm climbing through a tunnel,
and can't rely on sight.
Cling to a narrow walking path,
where others went before,
nothing but endless trees to see,
I thought there would be more.
Now the sweat starts to flow freely,
and the lungs start to heave,
but the peak just keeps on rising,
getting harder to breathe.
The breaks are coming more often,
count my steps to distract
my mind from asking fair questions,
'Why aren't we turning back?'
To go through so much exertion
just to see rocks and pines?
What are we even doing here?
What do we hope to find?
Counting steps no longer working,
my mood is getting rough,
but then a glint of sunlight comes,
outlines a ridge above.
I push despite muscles aching,
despite my tired feet,
tell myself you must feel some pain
if you're to climb the peak.
Trees are now getting much smaller,
the forest starts to thin,
or vista I'd not imagined
I start to get a glimpse...
CONCLUDES IN PART II.
Categories:
exertion, journey, life, metaphor, mountains,
Form:
Narrative
Red Indians
We'd fall like Red Indians dying
in that tall fragrant summer grass
Small bellies weaving in and out
with exertion of bloody battle past
Or a ladybird might catch your eye
while conflict fades in a midday sun
the world might grow perfectly still
scented in a child's dreams and fun
I remember now the heat of hands
and transient soft warrior bow
Excited screams fading on red lips
the peeling bark on twig and bough
The shouts of anxious mothers
our pleading, disappointed reply
Cotton white shining clouds
sounds of play beneath purple sky
Tonight we will sleep in candied dream
crows feather lying on our bedroom floor
Tomorrow we will fight our lifelong foe
child soldiers in the fields of war.
Categories:
exertion, childhood,
Form:
Written: August 05, 2023
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
I alone agnize myself, a soul set free,
In the depths of my being, I truly foresee,
Asking for aid shows self-respect and awareness,
Strength in vulnerability is a testament to fairness.
Changing my opinion is not a sign of defeat
But a strength, a willingness to grow and meet,
My proven ability backs each choice I partake.
With confidence and conviction, no room for mistake.
I encourage others, as I do myself,
To embrace their dreams, to seek and delve,
For You can ask for what you wish and need,
For in unity and support, we shall succeed.
Allow me, oh world, to feel awe-inspiring,
To explore and soar, life's beauty aspiring,
My life can balance leisure and exertion,
In harmony and rhythm, an idyllic fusion.
Others support me because I'm whole,
A soul set free, a beacon of soul,
I alone cognize myself, my true essence,
And in that knowledge, I find my presence.
So let us all embrace our inner strength,
And show the world our true extent,
For in self-respect and awareness,
We can achieve greatness, beyond compare.
I alone agnize myself, my deepest desires,
And with each step, I bear passion inspires,
In the journey of self-discovery,
Lies are the key to unlocking our true identity.
Categories:
exertion, analogy, appreciation, change, character,
Form:
Rhyme
The wonder of life
that each obstacle becomes a lesson
Wether overt or covert
by increased exertion of all powers at hand
something will speak a solution
A problem stopped
in a manner that appears to be perfect
and out of this illusion is created
a new diversion for self- discovery
Suzanne Delaney
Categories:
exertion, inspirational, philosophy,
Form:
Free verse
“Birth day” is the actual day one exits from the womb, (thereafter, “birthday”, is but a colloquialism for the anniversary of that birth). Well … today is mine. I’m finally old enough to drive … (times 4.56!). Now, I’m old enough to vote … (times 3.476!). One of my sons, too, this month, will become a half-century old … which makes me realize: I’m older’n dirt!
It is truly amazing: Once you reach this age, it really, truly is incomprehensible that so many years have passed since taking that first breath – because our minds don’t allow us to think we’re “aged”! Our thoughts tell us we can still lift that couch … or a 100 lb. sack of seed … or a box of twenty books. But … the actual attempt proves our minds still have their roots in the concrete of yesteryear, while our bodies are entrenched in the reality of … today, (that’s easily confirmed by a quick glance in a mirror!) Contrary to popular belief … we are NOT as “young as we feel” … and to defy reality by allowing our minds to trump our body’s limitations, when it comes to physical exertion, is courting a hospital stay – or worse.
For those of us whose physical attributes have waned, we have great difficulty in accepting the fact that we now are relegated to the task of “watching”, not “doing”. That’s the final hurdle we, of necessity, must overcome before we can truly accept … aging. Our children, whom we used to tell and guide in what they could/should do, and when … have now matured. We’ve taught them as best we could, and it is now their turn to drive the carriage – and, if we’re lucky, and don’t try to “boss” them, we may be asked to become passengers.
There comes a time when our day in the sun becomes a rocking chair in the twilight. We need to prepare ourselves to recognize that change of circumstance and situation.
It’ll be difficult for some of us … because WE’VE always been the one “in charge”. If we are to survive with our dignity intact and retain relationships with those we love … we have to find a way to hand over the reins – and MEAN it – to the next generation which we ourselves have spawned.
Our remaining decisions will be: Whether or not to re-bait that fishing hook … or what channel to watch … any decision more meaningful will need to be made by … our kids.
Categories:
exertion, age, anniversary, birthday, care,
Form:
Narrative
I exist, where your heart fails to resist the lips of love
on the earlobe of your aching beauty and the nipples of your curving needs,
I exist in the circuit of blue veins that circle your flowering soul,
the star that stirs violet sparks in the center of your solar plexus,
I exist in the color of your lust
when your eyes espy the kiss between truth and desire,
I exist when temptation teaches your tears
that your sweetest strength is surviving within the arms of my firm affection,
I exist when the angel in you rises with the ecstacy of phenomenal exertion,
I am alive in the heartbeat of your happiness -
J.A.B.
Categories:
exertion, love,
Form:
Romanticism