Flexing Poems | Examples

The End

We are waiting and praying
Hoping that it won't happen
But it was seen so long ago
The date when common sense died
The lunatics became the leaders
And talking no longer worked
All it took was one wrong word
The flexing of a muscle too many
Just one finger on one button, and it was over
The daylight disappeared in a moment
Nighttime's green glow became our only fate
And the sounds of life could no longer be heard
Sadly, there is no more to say
The story ended just as predicted
Once again, God’s planet is just a rock
And that is what we deserve

© Poem – XIII/VIII/MMXXV
LRET

The Battles Of A Bad Day's Night

If instinct could alert beforehand;
Reflecting moments as all stand...
The ought process of echoing mind,
For rights to get wrongs tightly bind-
Assign each voice unto confident tears,
Without been paired with fearful glares.
That, would make a day so bleak off sorrow,
And elegant enough to seek anew cum morrow.

If patience could read through broken glass...
Flexing with a system depicted 'separate class'
That wants eyes to angerily view patience broken,
Just to steer up choler; a muted but  flaming token
Which once activatd, consumes the rationally pierced soul
Ought to be veiled intensely for light to be made whole.

If peace could silent memorable pains, 
Of a bad day's night battles off stains...
Eyes and dreams won't be easily drifted apart
Like storming mind wreck drowning heart...
And wonder if lonely night of each bad day could come alive
Before dawn without partying, yet make sound sleep thrive.

Penitentiary Clowns

The warden's dog steals every snack,  
The inmates plot to get them back.  
A daring heist for honey buns,  
'Til Fluffy wins, and off he runs!  

The gym’s a war of flexing might,  
Larry claims he’s built for flight.  
He jumps, he flaps, he hits the ground,  
The weights just watch, they don’t rebound.  

The prison chef’s the true enigma,  
Serving stew with chunks of stigma.  
Was that a bean, or was it glue?  
If it still moves—you're doomed too.  

Tattoo artist, cellblock legend,  
Ink by day, regrets by seven.  
An eagle looked so tough and wise,  
Now it's a penguin with lazy eyes.  

The books are old, the pages torn,  
The plot? Confusing since day one.  
Billy swears it's full of schemes,  
Turns out—just grandma's cookie dreams.  

The great escape? Just pure finesse,  
Using spoons with zero success.  
One guy digs for seven years,  
He found a pipe—now he’s in tears.  

Lights go out, the stories start,  
Tallest tales with zero heart.  
"Elvis once lived in this cell!"  
Sure, and unicorns patrolled as well.

Sike

Readying the cannon for war
Barricading the mind for battle
Protecting thy neck from the noose
Flexing my arms to brace for impact

Walking through trial’s gate 
Veering in the distance my eyes drop
Chattering teeth seize and sleep
No one is here to challenge my soul

A sigh of relief and cold calm
For today the battle is postponed
However another day it shall be
A trial for the ages, I shall get my rest

My Flannel Shirt

You standing there looking so innocent
       and sexy, biting your lip
Smiling so guile-y and your hair
Cascading around your face
Over your shoulders and styled by JBF
You standing a bit awkwardly your legs
      falling from my flannel shirt
And smooth as hell, your feet up on the balls
      as if in high heels
Flexing in anticipation and a devilish grin
With a "What me?" delectation  
It's not a skirt it's my flannel shirt
And you with your post coital giggle
A splash of bawdy and a hint of naughty
      and looking muy caliente
With my eyes I take you in as you take 
      my breath away

dare Angel

Dear Angel,
I dare you, shimmering…glimmering star
To shine anew where you are
Dare Angel, so true
Who knew, who’d knew
You were the color of cyan 
I will be your man
I will be having my tan 
Dare to wonder
Dare to wander
Dare to ponder
What lies ahead? Think of the present instead of the past of dread
Venturing through my vortex 
Of perplexing flexing mentally
Bewilder me
Wanderlust be
You are you and I am I 
Let’s die alive tonight, tonight, tonight
You are outgoing and I am shy
Maybe I’ll love you with my might
You dare angel of ardent adventure, legacies of lament and journey of joy…a voyage of valleys and majestic mountains above

POETRY WRITING

A lover like mockingbirds,
You're poised, prepared to hunt.
Ears perked, you could hear a pin drop
You smell the freshness of rain in the air
Its melody and rhythm afford serenity.
Drip, drip.  Sprinkle, sprinkle, sprinkle!
Each drop lights your fire
It becomes a squall,
Yet it quenches your soul
You perk wanting more
Then comes glow of early morning -
Piano tunes from afar soothes you,
You have captured a nightingale.

Stretching, flexing,
Your pallet perks.
It's time to dine, to
Feast your eyes on buffet,
No overeating -
Comfort comes to mind, as slowly you chew.

*

Confidence

Quote: Know your value. Confidence breeds success. Act like the person you want to become, and people will start seeing you as that person.
Mark M Ford
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Those who embrace, avid ambitions of heart,
To them shall the reigns of future belong;
From charted path of passion, they never part
For earnest is the promise treasured for long.

O, how they strive, aiming for heavenly skies,
Flexing audaciously to conquer higher highs,
Fixated on life’s goals with purposeful eyes,
Focused mindfully, primed to win the prize.

On might of confidence when achievers roar,
On strength of willpower their dreams soar
Employing fortitude resolutely brought to fore,
Sailing to shores, dreamt in travails of yore.

Glumness they defy of shroud and sorrow,
Planting seeds of hope in despair of woes,
Aspiring bright horizons on dawns of morrow
Overcoming hapless shadows cast in throes.

O, the doers and believers instinctively know,
Hurdled with failures is the road to success,
As they drive dreary nights to mornings aglow,
Fueled by aspirations, dreams revered possess.

Limbo

Limbo 

I’m in a dark space
There are no edges
And the sides flex if I push
I am blind and deaf
The taste of doubt
In my mouth
The scent of fear 
In my nostrils 
I roll and kick
But I make no impact
I want to be free
But there’s no way out
I’m agonising
Worrying, uncertainty
Claustrophobia haunts me
Rules my mind.
Everybody hates me
I’m against the world
And the world’s against me
You enter the room 
And I snap out of it
My senses return
I’m free once more
My mind has lost its grip.

David Cox 17/04/24

Feral instinct

Blatant display 
of weaponry
on Republic day,
perhaps tradition,
invoking pride
and patriotism 
but somehow I feel,
such muscle flexing,
crass and vulgar,
is best avoided
by all regimes
who so flaunt
aggressive intent
but there’s a vote bank,
that looks forward 
to fanning fires
and so the monarch 
goes with the script
which is proven
to keep him
and his cronies
in power.

The end of a hustler

Russell was slim and did like to hustle, but on his arm he packed some serious muscle

Most of the time he liked to gamble, but when things got hot he was quick to scramble

Fraud and deceit is a way to survive, this easy money is what keeps him alive

He hated snitches, but he loved his crew, this is the only life he ever knew

At daytime a hustler, at night a playboy, but Russell was never a rich man’s toy

The people in town knew he was bad, but what happened to Russell was really sad

One morning when Russell was crossing the road, he got bit in the eye by a flying toad

As his vision blurred and day became night, it turns out that poor Russell had lost his sight 

Now Russell sits alone flexing his muscle, wishing that he can once more Hustle

Saleh Ben Saleh

PartI and Part II

PART I   The Experiment 
A person who makes bad decisions
Is it a secret motivation 
True naive flexing a muscle only known as misery
I can't find an approach
I can't see the thoughts like doctor sleep
What is a true sacrifice
Does it not know comfort 
Does it marry purpose
Ignore common and regular
Who feels like part of a bad decision 
And still they sit 
Idle in their comfort
To be discarded 
labelled bad for my environment
PART II  
A powerful shadow
Too at thought 
Too ill of peace 
I see you my dear hiding in your hell
There was no poison
My sweet love of perceptual chaos
When nothing plus nothing equals something
I will sit under the whispering willow tree
Waiting for substance waiting for the sun
Because it will be the only one left
We can not defeat
Done like dinner
But never defeated

A Tiger No Worse

She reposed in the greenest shadows, her ankles fat
Flexing her well-trained muscles like an enormous cat
We felt ourselves being watched but did not know
It was spring elf woman, until her eyes began to grow

A tiger! A puma! A lion! We were guessing like mad.
If it had been one of them we would have been rather glad.
Spring elf woman has a reputation of being incredibly mean.
So far things were okay, because she has remained quite unseen.

Broken

I didn't know that all this could happen
He thought that he was a simp
But instead he was a noow
He used to think that he was flexing yet cheugy

This became salty when I got sus
When his fam told me of his dirty plans
I had to ghost so as to calm myself
Since he was acting so crashy

Getting off was the best idea though
I was hurt when I knew no cap
Later realized that shipping wasn't Gucci

Whispers the Feather

WTF burning bright with pondering ink.
Graceful swans or blackbirds skedaddling
across the vast and empty space. The think
kerplunking into cavernous link.
The quill flying…descriptives diving
onto the writer’s canvas…surviving.

WTF, loud and clear, dear John…
the calligraphic rend of relationship…
The salutation is a haunting paragon.
Parisian-perfumed paper is withdrawn.
The ebony of the crow’s feather, fitting.
His abdominals are eternally splitting.

WTF, wet with mascara tears. Joy
at the indoctrination of its mirth,
bearing personalities of a girl and boy.
To induce was another cousin’s ploy -
joining in on the birth experience fun,
flexing his muscles, nearly triplets spun.

WTF, wading in pools of grace, prayerful rest
of folded hands - serenity glides over vellum.
The ink, so gentle, melodic, transfigured, blessed.
Saint’s swan lyrics  - God’s glory expressed.
Whisper of angels, feathers like baby’s-breath.
Resurrected quill in pall of Christ’s death.

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