Best Pecs Poems
I used to like barbells, enjoyed pumping iron,
my Nautilus* gym was one happy environ.
Those posters of 6-packs and marbled biceps
inspired me to start counting carbs, pounds, and reps.
My trainer would coax, "hold as long as you can!"
Doing deadlifts I felt like a WAS a dead man
The kettlebell, medicine ball - hated those,
since dropping 'em both on my poor little toes.
My dad-bod and willpower soon parted ways,
after only 1 set, I was shell-shocked for days
My back hurt, my knees ached, I'd injured my hips,
after grimacing nonstop, I'd sprained both my lips.
Oy! The sharp pain that shoots
through my quads, delts and glutes...
Now my game plan is shifting
no more power lifting.
To planks, it's "no thanks",
I'm expunging all lunging.
I feel stabs in my abs,
there's a hex on my pecs
and my lats shriek like bats.
When I tweak my oblique
I am sore to the core...
and I want it no more.
The rowing machine is no longer my scene
I loathe those squats lots and I hate crunches bunches.
Do sit-ups or push-ups? Do jump-ups or chin-ups?
I'm more inclined now to do lots of "I-give-ups".
My doc tried convincing me I'd be less tired?
I'm questioning how that poor man's brain is wired!
I felt half exhausted just WATCHING staff clean
the ellipticals, treadmills, and stair-climb machine.
Then... I found when I stood on the locker room scale
That my plan to lose weight was a sad epic fail!
I'm done! I have finished my very last burpee -
I just want a hot dog and super-size Slurpee.
What happened to wanting to feel fit and well?
When it came to workouts, I was just a dumbbell.
I've resolved now to walk more, or swim a few laps
maybe jog, ride my bike, play some tennis, take naps.
That's right, getting plenty of rest seems so plain,
it appears the most challenging muscle to train ...
is the brain.
* Nautilus is a brand of gym equipment
written 2 Oct 2022
Categories:
pecs, humor,
Form:
Rhyme
Breasts, boobies, knockers, **** – call them what you will
We are talking about breast cancer – and sadly it can kill
The key to success with catching the disease is early detection
Remember boobies aren’t just funbags to give a fella an ********
Breasts can be appreciated in the their own unique way
Have a feel for lumps make it a sexy game to play
Let him ‘cop a feel’ and if a lump you do detect
Go straight to the GP - this lump you mustn’t neglect
It can be simply that you have lumpy boobs or a cyst
It’s not necessarily cancer but it can be on the list
The GP will send you for a mammogram or scan
Mammograms aren’t comfy, staff do it as quickly as they can
Hopefully the results will put your mind at rest
But sadly sometimes it shows cancer of the breast
Early detection is the key to beating this cancer
Regular mammograms really are the answer
Don’t forget about the men they have pecs or moobs
They can get breast cancer too we are talking about ALL boobs
Jan Allison
17th October 2014
October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, which is an annual campaign to increase awareness of the disease – remember breast cancer affects both males and females with 1 in 1000 males being diagnosed with breast cancer
Categories:
pecs, cancer,
Form:
Couplet
JEANIEMAC
Rub a dub dub two in a tub.
Where did the soap go?
He lay back flat
Right on his back.
While she fiddled about below.
TIM SMITH
Rub a dub dub I fell in the tub.
I swear to you Lassie it's not always a stub.
The water is cold.
I'm getting old.
Come a little closer and give it a rub.
LIM'RIK FLATS
Jeanie and Timmy alone in the tub.
Sounds like a poem which might need a scrub.
I cannot say s*x.
Not sure about pecs.
H**l, the censors might just overdub.
ARTHUR VASO
Rub a dub dub, there's three in a tub.
Sure hope one doesn't give it a rub.
The lassie is fine.
She has two to shine.
EVE ROPER
Rub a dub dub four in a swingers tub.
Girls raised their glass, boys the stilettos subs.
Full of champagne and olives.
Pond koi had other motives.
Oh la la,, that's not the knob it's my club!
Categories:
pecs, basketball, beauty, friendship,
Form:
Limerick
The Cyber Nymph
Loch David Crane
August 18, 1997
Lie back--expose your belly ring
up unto the sky. . .
I just hope when I get down close
it won't put out my eye!
That summer I was 48
and she pert 25;
I left Prozac in the cupboard
and Reality went Live.
I shoulda taken time to stop
and used the vorpal rubber
But 48 he couldn't wait
to find another lover.
So while the Sun was merciless
to sand and skin and sea
"If she swells I'm sure she'll tell,
returning then to me."
I must admit I got her drunk--
I used her just for sex:
Blue and blond with freckles,
suntanned buns and pecs.
But she revealed computer skills
That took away my breath.
Her dancing cyber fingers sang;
I soon saw who was best.
Ol' 48 could bare compute
"Not very fast" she said;
"I've practiced years not to be fast"
gasped I, collapsed in bed.
Then the Sun warmed up the honey--
it dripped twice more in a row.
Ulysses' "rosy-fingered dawn"
beheld her frown, dress, and go.
That freshly-flossed feeling
reverberates my spine
A smile wells up from deep inside
and stays there all the time.
At play I watched this cyber nymph
on Netscape and E-mail;
Her eyes flashed, fingers flying,
shaking golden ponytail.
"You're kinda slow," she grumbled,
terrifying 48;
"But I like that in a man," she grinned,
making me feel great.
My old 12 color monitor
was not enough for her;
More movies, GIFs, and videos
flew by me in a blur.
But 48 he had a trick:
while she stared at the screen
I spoke in her ear, nibbled her neck,
and adored her like a Queen.
I kissed and bit and licked and squirmed
'til wrists and spine went quiet--
The way a mouse's legs go still
when python's on his diet.
And then the honey dripped once more,
the Sun was past its rise.
I felt its rosy hug and knew
that love was in my eyes.
I asked her for her address,
she wrote with @ in code;
I said "I'm too old fashioned"
and asked for her telephone.
So when you dream, sweet 25,
tall cyber nymph of mine,
remember please old 48
who isn't past his prime.
And as the honey of the Sun
drips down into the sea
I'll recall my Cyber Nymph
and she will undelete me.
Categories:
pecs, funny, funny love, internet,
Form:
Ballad
Former Spice Girl, known as Mel B,
will no longer judge the show, AGT.
Labeled an addict of sex,
she enjoyed the male performers' great pecs!
March 21, 2019 for the Clerihew Contest
for Tania Kitchin's Celebrity Or Famous Person Clerihew Poetry Contest
(AGT is acronym for America's Got Talent, one of my fave summer tv programs)
Will miss ya, Mel B!!
Categories:
pecs, celebrity,
Form:
Clerihew
It was a nightmare of a boat trip
I almost choked to death on an orange pip
They did not strain the juice well
And from a small pip, I gasped for air and started to swell
If it weren’t for a crewmember named William Patel
Well…
I stayed in bed for a spell
The captain apologised
Which was wise
He said “ the rest of the trip is free.”
So I was extravagant and splashed out on the person I called “Me.”
While sitting on deck, by the pool, sipping me tea
I was captivated by a well-formed female in a translucent bikini
She rolled her eyes flirtingly at me
So being the gentleman I am, I rolled them back you see
We were mesmerised with each other for a while
As we secretly exchanged a naughty smile
I placed hers in me left butt cheek pocket
As I felt me Viagra stick raising like a rocket
This was the beginning of a sensual relationship
Thanks to that bloody orange pip
Anyway, we went below deck
Where it was dark and gave each other a peck
Then we were at it like hammer and tongs
Moaning and groaning the seductive songs
Who needs Viagra, it was me
Only me, all me me me
Take some advise, find a place where you might get caught and you’ll see
It will magnify the enjoyment of your OOOh!, uhhh!, oohweee!
We stood in a narrow doorway
And began entertaining each other with a bit of, you know, foreplay
Then she turned her back to me and oooh! What can I say
Pressing against each other and pushing against the door arch was… heaven all the
way
Then, yep, we were caught, and guess what happen next
It was the captain and she was his wife who would suspect?
The big mother was rather vexed
I tried to tell him not to blow it out of context
But… the bugger wouldn’t stop strangling me with his mount Everest pecs
Give me the orange pip any day
But the situation I was in, hell no way
Categories:
pecs, funnyme, me, sensual,
Form:
Rhyme
Big fight
Last night
Clyde's Bar
Bizzare
Tough guys
Streetwise
Much brew
Fists flew
Thrown chairs
Pulled hairs
Black eyes
Loud cries
One bloke
Nose broke
Heads bashed
Teeth trashed
Knives slashed
Pecs gashed
Cops came
To tame
Powwow
Peace now
All's well
That's swell
Great fight
Last night
Categories:
pecs, humorous,
Form:
Footle
Monah Kaur and Robert Kumar fled from London, came to ‘Hindustan’; tied the knot
The 'Singhs' stopped their songs and 'Kumars at no. 42' burnt their studio; this rebellion; they will forget not
A petite piece of land was gifted by Uncle Prem to mark their freedom
With much thought the newly wed called it Garden of Eden
They cleared the plot from crawling matters and built a woody farm house
Within a year, Monah gave birth to twins; Lisa died; Minnie who survived became quiet as a mouse
The air around still polluted in invasion and many cuffed in iron
The sun and moon fairer than in London but nothing seemed fine
The couple laboured and fostered peaches for Mr. Big Ben; returned home clad in blisters
Minnie cried; and cried; her parents had no time and she desired a couple of sisters
In financial distress the duo approached the heroic Farmer Bachan to assist his flock
Pleased with their dedication he gifted them a Peacock.
Minnie cried louder now, seeing this English present; she wasn’t a fan
Bachan who was fond of the child, sent her way, a young Indian Peahen
Minnie’s tears lost its way in the Ganges as the new birds found their click
Around Christmas added to the family was a cute hybrid Pea-chick
What adorable ‘chana’ like eyes had she!
Without delay, Minnie named her Chick pea
Eden now a 'Rangoli'; 'Ranisas' and 'Nawabs' soothed in ‘Masala’ tea
All engrossed in the lights and sweetness of Diwali; no attention paid to the growth of The Serpent on that Apple tree.
Those daffodils patented to Wordsworth, danced in the air
In its abode, the serpent watched Eden, what a scare!
One morning, Minnie fetched a Brown ladder to reach the tree which dazzled with rounds of juicy red
The ladder attacked and killed; the child returned home badly bitten, almost to eternal slumber she bled
Bachan’s sheep strayed to the road that was not to be taken, decreased from many to few
Eden cried for The Good Shepard; The Foreign Raj ruthlessly bottled native stew
Prayers were answered and on a Tiger came a Flying sheriff called ‘Shroff’
Bedecked in turfy ‘ceps’ and ‘pecs’; this essence fought in ‘huff & puoff’
Over time; in years almost equal to Tendulkar's century; the Serpent grew wicked miles
The gladiator fought till his last breath, excreting the treacherous reptile back to the British Isles
Categories:
pecs, culture, grief, patriotic, war,
Form:
Rhyme
Ambitious once, a baseball pro,
For sure I thought I’d be,
But games I watch now let me know
Old men are just like me.
In fact today to Minute Maid
I went to cheer the ‘Stros
And harshly learned all those who played
Held heads grey barely knows.
In bleachers near another chap
With pecs transformed to flab,
Exclaimed in bold “Forget this crap!”
“Let’s go to Marble Slab!”
How strange, I thought, this guy would leave
Before the game began,
While still his spouse, if you’ll believe,
Remained though left her man.
Now curious, I had to ask
So then approached his wife,
I said, “What gives? Where hides your flask?”
“What booze supplied this strife?”
She said, “No-no, let me explain”
In deeper voice than mine,
“We’re not from here, we’re from New York
And both steer clear of wine”
“What happened was, in our hotel,
An accident to moan,
Poor Charlie grabbed my Estrogen
And I Testosterone.”
9/19/2016
Submitted for Sara Kendrick's Which of the Four
Would you Choose Contest
Categories:
pecs, age, funny,
Form:
Rhyme
I sense a Napoleon complex
As Joe the canary his wings flex
He stretches tall and proud
Squawks and shrieks really loud
At the Seagull who has huge, huge pecs
Categories:
pecs, funny,
Form:
Limerick
The sight of his pecs made me quiver
I was trembling and all of a quiver
To get his finely toned body
Became his life not his hobby
But in the bedroom he couldn’t deliver
He was thrilled when I cooked him a meal
I hoped his body he’d later reveal
But he drank too much wine
I saw this as a sign
Of this problem he tried to conceal
I brought him a little blue pill
Thought its action could give us a thrill
But he fell fast asleep
And was soon counting sheep
Poor guy, he’s really over the hill!
N/A in original contest and never entered in another contest
Submitted to LOSERS ONLY contest by Jerry T Curtis
12~10~15
Categories:
pecs, body, humorous, men,
Form:
Limerick
Another day at the gym,
Pumping iron for the swell.
Aching muscles feeling grim,
As I put myself through hell.
Boneless chicken that I bake,
Egg whites keep me lean.
Protein powders in a shake,
With a dose of creatine.
Heavy squats inflate the quads,
Bench presses for my pecs.
Arm curls to increase the odds,
In the mirror just to flex.
Pull-ups will expand the lats,
Back with snatch and grabs.
Cutting out excessive fats,
And crunches for my abs.
Stretching to protect my calves,
Dumbbells for bulging traps.
Smearing on more greasy salves,
For running more than twenty laps.
After many hours dripping sweat,
My daily workout finally done.
Don't you know I won't regret,
While basking in the blazing sun.
Categories:
pecs, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form:
Rhyme
Is your mind in the gutter,
full of what you shouldn't utter?
Or perhaps it's your conscience
which eats you alive with slanderous nonsense--
about your ex, matters of sex, or your neighbor's pecs?
Heh-heh, join the club, bub.
You're not going to drown in this tub
--Glub, glub, glub--
You won't necessarily be snubbed
Or flub the proverbial dub.
There is a solution to all this pollution
of your most precious resource,
your mind,
of course.
Just take a deep breath, heave a huge sigh;
Look up at the sky; LOL, "My oh my."
Then flip the switch,
Count your blessings;
That'll get rid of
What is depressing:
Fuming over how much your ex hates you and you her?
--Start counting the days since you had to occupty the same space with her.
Now there, don't you feel better already, your load a bit lighter?
Seething because you haven't had sex since the passing of Tyrannosaurus Rex?
--Start counting all the partners who you avoided who'd have cursed you
with a hex.
Whew! Aren't you happy now that you didn't bite off more than their fair
necks?
Jealous of the shape your neighbor's in? Plotting to undo his diet & do him in?
--Start recalling all the meals you've enjoyed that you've have had to skip:
I'll bet in a minute or two you'll be convinced that life for him is a gyp.
The grass is always greener on the other side:
When we start rolling in the mud, we slip and then slide
into negative thoughts and soul-poisoning contemplation,
at which time what's called for is refreshment and rejuvenation,
starting with a change of the the mind's diaper, to rid it of a load
of toxic pollutants and misdirected fury untold.
April 16, 2018
Categories:
pecs, anger, change, jealousy, pollution,
Form:
Rhyme
Today, l went whale watching
I was left in complete awe
The magnificence of these beautiful creatures
Hugged my being to the core
Their amazingly huge yet graceful bodies
Playfully breaching into the air
Slapping their pecs in the water
To their own grandeur… oblivious and unaware
It was a truly special sight to behold
Nature in its rawest and purest form
To see such majestic creatures
Engulfed my being with a joyful warmth
Categories:
pecs, appreciation, creation, nature,
Form:
Rhyme
WINDOW SHOPPING AT THE GYM
pomp flex
smooched pecs
glass necks
slaked sex
stocked Adonis pomp flex smooched pecs wink
gym’s monstrous blown glass necks, slaked sex drink
5/7/2017
Tyburn Form
Humor
Categories:
pecs, humor,
Form:
Tyburn