Best Weights Poems
Ten pound weights,
of encouragement,
uplifting smiles,
curl,
extend,
as fingers unwind,
and
romanticize.
Felicitous lips,
the story of joy
explored
with
double dutch
jump.
Flickers of
childhood light,
that of
a born again
saint.
Cash into my hands,
at Christmas time,
as my smile
made her smile.
I passed on
the bills
to my child,
who needed it more.
Pass your smile
around the world;
the pine lit up
with ethereal light.
Humans
can be rich
and kind.
It was his younger years in being a competitive Bodybuilder
He competed in numerous Bodybuilding Contests and won
It was his sheer dedication in not being out done
It was other sports just for fun
The Old Man saw a challenge in what sacrifice that came with Bodybuilding
The weights were the Old Man’s determination from lifting back then
But his career with the weights didn’t have to end
It was encouragement from another to continue to train on
Train the Old Man did and it was hours long
The weights became the desire with the fire
This has always been the Old Man’s regime in being the principle
It’s just that simple
Age may have accelerated on
The Old Man was inspired to continue to be strong
His muscles greeted the weights with every given lift
As an Old Man, you don’t have to be Stift
Intensity was in the Old Man’s eyes
Yet he has acquired wisdom and experience of wise
Train until
Bodybuilder still
The mind for training in will
Old Age won’t stop
My young days in being a Bodybuilding champion in dedication in what put me at the top
There is no reason for the Old Man to stop
Train, Lift and Construct
The Old Man’s theory, “I lived to be, my Bodybuilding muscles from before all to see, and all my desire in what my training should be”
An after training Flex, and image still, but with a determined will.
A pair pulling their weight
sandwiching the meat of my literary treasure
~ shelving their showstopping good looks
Wordku: 5-7-5 words
AP: Honorable Mention 2025
Big and Carrie, a romance that carried
Passion, desire, hunger and thirst
But a bad boy’s love is what hurts the worst
For when one craves and gets an inner inch
For love that’s wings are clipped and stitched
Conditional flight takes root in one’s soul
They forget that unconditional love is the most important goal
For his kind cannot fill the voids inside her heart
Just like an addiction you want to stop after it officially starts
And when she finds pure love she does not know how to receive
For she is used to this man that always picks up and leaves
Soul mates or soul ties that should have been broken
For a writer that’s aware has a special token
Reflection on pages filled with the mind
Could have saved her from going back to Mr. Big in later times.
By: sabina
soul partners
Big and Carrie
There is no scale that can weigh the power of hope
Winter ICE riding an Alberta Clipper from the new northern state down to the Gulf of America
A Brown wave
No time for Brown waves good bye
A brown wave
Sky ships set sail
Rouge cargo
Stripped, strapped, secure
Refugee - no refuge - Refugee
Loose dirt plowed
Roots shifted, strained
Lumps gathered
Tear watered seeds sewn
In Brown soil that hope
might sprout like a tree
Sky ship sets sail
Bounded cargo
Refugee - no refuge - Refugee
Dear dumbbell,
I can remember the first time
I held you in my hands.
Two 5-pound weights - small, yes,
But if you can remember,
I was seven.
My father, forty-six and still going,
Introduced me to you.
I was young, and wasn’t as dedicated.
Not as I am now.
He loves you
Just as much as me.
Maybe more.
If I’m being honest,
You saved us both.
When I’m in the gym, it’s the only place
I feel at peace. Powerful, and after all
In pain, isn’t there strength?
The more I use you, the more it hurts
But
The more it hurts, the more I use you.
Some judge me for loving you.
My own mother
Calls it unladylike.
If delicate, fragile, tiny, is
Ladylike
Then I think I’ll be a brute.
Every time
I step down, enter your home’s dark embrace,
Calm washes over me, comfort in knowing
I am strong.
And every time I don’t,
I regret it.
This is a thank you,
A promise
That because of what you gave me,
I will give you my
All.
The weight
He had written two short books
Wanted to show her, his work,
Not now she said, I’m watching telly.
Around the beam that keeps the heaven’s roof from falling down,
He slung a rope fastened to a scrap iron drum using
Himself as a counterweight.
He hoisted the drum up, but he was too heavy
He carried too much weight of pride.
He cried in the night struggled to get rid of unwanted feelings
The drum becomes lighter, descended until
He was lifted to the top of the beam feeling free
Of false pride and ambition.
Why did you cry so much in the night? He was asked.
He smiled, was at ease with himself, but didn’t answer.
Hear no evil, see no evil, speak no evil to,
or we give evil a place, inside of me and you.
What we see, and hear, we think and feel you see,
then from the tongue, we bring it to reality.
Oh the ways of this life, the weights of our soul,
the truths in the heart, hidden there like gold.
Believe half of what you see, none of what you hear,
make those things of evil, from you disappear.
Keeping our eyes upon God, listening to His voice,
being good or evil, is it not then by our choice.