Exertions Poems | Examples

Hankering

Hermit Hal
hoped that Harlot Sal
had halted
exalted
exertions as a rustler.
His two-way hustler?

Bravura An Open Form

BRAVURA
saved his dream
from
needless sacrifice
for
feelings
make demands

exertions of soul
will
inspire
to
drive intellect

beauty's imprint
cannot regulate
but
stimulate
an impulse
to
create
the permanent

Mixtures An Open Form

MIXTURES
instances
of
ostensible
 exertions
with
traditional
certainty

expected
    overtly
resolve
  forsaken
embedded
 in
 treasured
 possessions
&
 perspectives

sophisticted
inventive
& intense
feeling
 spatial
turbulent
  immersed
fostered
beyond style
penetrating
the
 recumbent
element
&
interpolated
with
  problems

Baxter Street Monday

Anti-Poem — “Baxter Street Monday”

me trudging walking
gripping onward forward 
traipsing baxter street monday 
and its steep inclines
going up like a dizzy sparrow
passing vertical merry go rounds 
the sly moulin rouge turnabouts 
that sip spit with maraschino endives 
scanning thighs ripe with hard-ons
the stoner pink boys 
lost in rainbow cul-de-sacs
lost amidst the traffic tirades
the propelling grind of accelerators 
up up and onward everlasting
floating hovering over shy ascensions 
in ravenous echo park 
me scratching grinding like steel death
holding tight the skin wheel
trudging baxter street monday
the morning reality suspensions 
the daily cyclotron of kidney exertions
of ascending footsteps moving skinward 
now racing down baxter street monday
descending and plummeting 
passing vertical merry go rounds 
the sly moulin rouge turnabouts
i see my sista rosa gonzalez
she be screaming down with wet wings
sending love bouquets to my los angeles

My Head Is a Bowl

I have a bowl for a head
I have a bowl for a head
Hollowed out for flowers
You'd think I'd be dead 

I hold my soul in a lotus
My soul is in a lotus
My soul is a redhead
As you already noticed.

In this rhyming epistle
I've got ivy and thistle
Hear a tune that I whistle
To my stamen and my pistil.

Butterflies are my persons
We set out on excursions
Such pleasant exertions
Cuz my head is a bowl.

Poem By Basho

POEM BY BASHO

We were quiet now,
still breathing deeply from
the sexual exertions of our
late middle age, guided by
the music, gliding toward a
landing through the ambient
haze of unconditional love

The Japanese singer with the
black eyes and hair and the
rising sun mouth, lived her 
rhythm and blues through the 
discipline of the koto, did a 
high soaring wail as the final
jetliner of the Syracuse evening
climbed toward the moon that 
was a cold silver smile above 
the snow-covered city where
we daily delight in the details 
of desire 

Our transition into clarity 
was the sonic antithesis of
a poem by Basho:

Seventeen seconds
of screaming haiku on a
February night!

Musings

beauty makes demands
        exertions
           to overcome
              stimulations
imprints
  in a new phase
      an essential experiment
to assimulate
    to induce
          the tranquil
soft as falling rain
     a capacity to feel
     to purge the past
     the unseen the seen
to reveal
       & render anew
       & accentuate&embrace
in
   the contours
     of my mindh

O Fair Adrenaline

O’ fair Adrenaline
Oh, powerful you make me strong;
I can’t do wrong
Beautiful Adrenaline
You got my heart pumping
Got my breath in my chest
I’m just sweating
Biceps protruding bulging;
I stand next to you Adrenaline
Strong
Come
You secreted me
Hormonally
You’re stress,
You take my breath
Excited exertions do you brew
I belong to you
Beautiful Adrenaline
You got my heart pumping
Got my breath in my chest
I’m just sweating
Biceps protruding bulging;
I can’t do wrong

Oh, powerful you make me strong;
O’ fair Adrenaline



1/30/20
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2020©
January 28, 2020 Assignment
Written for class assignment (WIPS) North Omaha Writers Group (NOW)

Resolve

'...and then the lighting of the lamps.'
                                    -T.S. Eliot


Swallows flit and dart, the glow of evening
   settles o'er the fields, the day is fading;
sunset gilds the sky with glorious luster,
   vibrant reds and golds, and softer shading.
Lamps are lit, the countryside is flickering
   in candlelight, the cows are coming home;
peacefulness descends in waves of twilight,
   the animals are safe, no need to roam.
Horses tethered to their posts are waiting
   for the exertions of the day ahead;
farmers partake, extinguish their candles
   to darkness, and then take themselves to bed
      to pray for courage to endure their toil,
      for days they spend in harness to the soil.

                  ******

...a semi-sonnet

A Farmer's Life

"And then the lighting of the lamps."
                                          -T.S. Eliot


Swallows flit and dart, the glow of evening
   settles o'er the fields, the day is fading;
sunset gilds the sky with glorious luster,
   vibrant reds and golds, and softer shading.
Lamps are lit, the countryside is flickering
   in candlelight, the cows are coming home;
peacefulness descends in waves of twilight,
   the animals are safe, no need to roam.
Horses tethered to their posts are waiting
   for the exertions of the day ahead;
farmers partake, extinguish their candles
   to darkness, and then take themselves to bed
      to pray for courage to endure their toil,
      for days they spend in harness to the soil.

Resolve

'...and then the lighting of the lamps.'
                                    -T.S. Eliot


Swallows flit and dart, the glow of evening
   settles o'er the fields, the day is fading;
sunset gilds the sky with glorious luster,
   vibrant reds and golds, and softer shading.
Lamps are lit, the countryside is flickering
   in candlelight, the cows are coming home;
peacefulness descends in waves of twilight,
   the animals are safe, no need to roam.
Horses tethered to their posts are waiting
   for the exertions of the day ahead;
farmers partake, extinguish their candles
   to darkness, and then take themselves to bed
      to pray for courage to endure their toil,
      for days they spend in harness to the soil.

Teenage Love

Why should we be in love though it’ll end?
And we both know so, so why should we start?
Knowing that our feelings and time in vain spent 
And we gain nothing but the aching of the heart 
 	
It is a matter of time till our parting 
I think we should not better commence 
A journey that has a joyful starting 
But shortly in sadness and tears ends  
 
Stop using your heart and use your mind
For the heart sometimes be so reckless 
Think of our alleged love and you shall find 
That our exertions will be worthless 

Teenage love shall give us nothing but pain
And we may love each other, but in vain

Resolve

Swallows flit and dart, the glow of evening 
settles o'er the fields, the day is fading; 
sunset gilds the sky with glorious luster, 
vibrant reds and golds, and softer shading. 
Lamps are lit, the countryside is flickering 
in candlelight, the cows are coming home; 
peacefulness descends in waves of twilight, 
the animals are safe, no need to roam. 
Horses tethered to their posts are waiting 
for the exertions of the days ahead; 
farmers partake, extinguish their candles 
to darkness, and then take themselves to bed 
   to pray for courage to endure their toil, 
   the hours they spend in harness to the soil.

Nineteen Eighty Tell Me

Nineteen Eighty, tell me,
Where are you? 
What are you trying to be?
This week, you're 1963
And there's even
Talk of a rebirth of '67
But that's next week.
Nineteen Eighty, tell me,

When will you be mine?
A little bit '59,
I'll not share you with a Beatnik,
Take a rest after the exertions,
Punk revolutions,
Before our old friend,
Sweet nostalgia,
Goes round the bend.

("Nineteen Eighty Tell Me" has been reproduced more or less as it was originally scrawled in a red Silvine memo book in the very summer of 1980.)

The Unreal City

Nightfall on 
   the metropolis 
Untold millions head 
  homeward 
Tired from the day's exertions 
They slow down and prepare for sleep 
   But the "night people" 
are just starting out 
They will fill the bars and dancehalls tonight 
    while the commuters sleep 
              In this "unreal" city 
there are night trippers and 
    day trippers 
   In countless bars wine and beer are poured 
  In countless homes lights go out 
Darkness covers the metropolis 
   The fate of the city denizens 
   is determined by how they react to mass culture 
   One million dreams in this "unreal" city 
Some will be shattered 
Some will come to fruition 
The dice are rolled 
and the dye is cast

• Short Exertions Poems
• Famous Exertions Poems
• Best Exertions Poems
• Read Exertions Poems
• Long Exertions Poems
• Exertions Quotes