Long Biceps Poems
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MALE DOMINATION
-----------------------------
Candlelight rides hard against the skin
The warmth of the fire eating with excitement
A slight touch of desire, running down my spine
Wax drops, leaving behind intense passion
I move my whip, circling your biceps
I'll take you into a world you've never known
My body and breath ......so...... hot
Come dance with me, under the sheets
I will please you, examine everything you got
Whisper them words in your ear, beg for more
Purr for me, my slave,
I am your sex kitten, vixen,
I'll take you by surprise
---
Caress every flow of my womanly direction
I tickle your spots, feeding your sexual ego
Fondling the intimacy of your frustration
Stroll my heart with your sauce appetite-
I am your sex Goddess Delight.
Spread my flesh, so perfectly,
--look, admire, I give you permission to kiss
-- Kisses starting from the top part of my thigh.
Inject a solo French Kiss, releasing more impure wetness.
Slipping, in wet
--
An artist painting the way of my moans
Polish with light marks on my necks
With your brush of one-touch
I have you at my feet-
Tame by the dominatrix at night
by; P.D.
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
Often wondered bout people down under
Do they have to stand on their heads?
Do they have to tie down all their possessions?
Is flying off into space their dread?
We hope they all stay attached to the earth
We love them and their cute little bears
Once I was told by this Australian lady
Their breath can sure foul up the air
All my Aussie friends here on the Soup
Refer to their land as paradise
I was also told that the biceps on women
Are huge from hanging on for dear life
Now I know this must be some great myth
Olivia's seemed quite normal to me
You can't believe all the rumours you hear
But in case, hang onto to that tree!
Often wondered bout people down under
How do they keep their beer in their glass?
Do they chain themselves to the bed at night?
Do roots pop up instead of grass?
@Jack Ellison 2012
Advice For Women Regarding Men
Check your man to see if he has teeth
If he has more than one and lots of money
He’s the one
The same goes for hair
If he has one strand, he is your man, so reel him in
A solid posterior and nice biceps are good for exercise and sex
The best thing about a man is not his size
It is his eyes, (or is it wallet?)
The man with a car trumps a bicycle rider every time when dating
Beware of men who love their mothers way too much
Momma’s boys are toys that have no gender
If you have a man, keep him from fire hydrants
Never let him talk to strangers or girls with names
Make him lift the toilet seat
Tell him it builds muscles and that he’s sweet
Walk him on the pavement by a leash, not on the lawn
Men will pee on anything that breaths or lives in nature
Remember, men are masturbators
With other nasty habits, too numerous here to mention
So give your man a beer. That is my best advice
Check him daily for fleas and ticks and lice
Before you kiss good night
With the will of a princess warrior
her bum was like an old cheese.
She had biceps made for duty,
although not enough to please.
A beauty with an appetite.
An Amazon storming Queen.
Her thighs small mighty pillars
with shins held fast between.
This spirit motile girl.
A woman wise in youth.
Her rapture tamed in tolerance.
Maturing as is couth.
With dreams of sharing knowledge
and hopes of bringing peace.
This one to call a child;
too innocent to cease.
In many ways a soldier.
Though none would she prefer.
A toddler in her dreaming,
where aging soul would stir.
Soon coming in her glory.
When all will see her thrive.
This child of God made worthy
that God should see her drive.
Big muscles of the organ grinder, his biceps burning.
Cranking springs, the tired, but cheerful, Italian chap.
Many chapters of his life on streets of cold cement.
His beard, silver tone; his worn hat filled with coins.
You’d expect for the old legs to be moving, it rests
as the tunes be calling, beckoning through windows.
Accordion sounds be arousing smiles and curiosity.
Melancholy dirges wet the shoulders of the bitties.
Again the pedals and thighs grind along, travelling
as the kids and townsfolk wave goodbye. On his
merry way, feet tapping, ladies dancing, men puffing
on their pipes and cigars. The music says so long.
And another group gathers in the waning sun, waiting
for their favorite song; and the grinder gladly plays,
telling a story, with his barrel rolling, his pins caressed.
Kaput - he moves into a museum, a blast from the past.
Xmas tide,
a time for familial gatherings,
The golden chain of friendship
…and companions
Sweet on each other,
parading arm in arm
Together to share a feast and gift giving
...Nativity scenes, red, gold, green
bells ringing
Garlands, wreaths, and holly
Holiday romance rekindles and
swindles kisses under a mistletoe
Lovers making love!
…A lonely time for others
She arrives solo, one link’s absence sears
her heart yet another year
Smiles seem forced they’ll think
…Cry out the hosts,
Drink up, plenty of champaign !
Chums come and go quickly
Good to flatter one in a funk or ho-hum
The dinner is served, everyone rejoices
Mingles and reacquaint
Toasts and jingles can’t take her gaze away
True feelings are hidden
Like a disconsolate widow,
mournfully she yearns for him
Not a soul to tell, nor a cherished confidant
to share a secret or a private matter
Of the sensuality of karma sutra wooing her gently
Mesmerizing thoughts of a distant lover
have taken her far from the celebration
…His sultry eyes, savory lips
Sleekly sinewed neck, and bulging biceps
Quite an exquisite exhibition
Into his warm embrace and into subservience
Draped in satin, his fingertips tracing her curves
duplicating guitar intonation on his
gears, depressing down fretted notes
Making sultry harmonic tunes
Counting down at the twelfth fretboard
Lusty lullabies erogenous, with more alibies,
Keeps silent not to arouse suspicions of
an affair's existence that shouldn’t be
She counts down the twelve days of Xmas tide
her yearning entails
love is starved at Xmas tide~
he plays keep away
.
Palpable
fear lurks
a mystery
in the Air
a certain
eerie feel
suspects
an killers
can come
anywhere
The strike
is invisible
no tools or
weapon no
no trace no
fngerprints
It’s in thin air
creeps ..
shudder... horror
Now everyone wears masks
All are Suspects All are Culpable
Three new cases in the neighborhood
Death comes slow. is inevitable. No cure
Norms have changed. Hiding face is civil
Cannot trust None. Keep Social Distancing
At least two arms length. Barriers are drawn
Police Judiciary Governments are all clueless
Doctors Nurses collapsing on desk ...Helpless
Cut off all people from people or All Are DEAD
SURE. There is no cure. Prevent, escape, delay
Every breath- A killer rests...................bottled
What did I just inhale ? ..........................broken
...................................................................m
You will not even know ....................................e
Till a laser on forehead ....................................n
.
The city never sleeps............................a
byline, we were told ...........................tiny
a happening place.............................prayer
young in sinews ...............................of hope
a big bucket list...............................kindles in
so much to fulfill .............................good faith
before we kicked.............................in the belief
nothing be missed...........................that the earth
Buy whatever sold............................will hear us heal
exclude deep sleep............................itself. Eventually
rest can be delivered............................Good prevails.
In your home cave now.............................Amen !
time to reflect recover. recoup
.
Amitabh feels the world is not going to be the same again.
Now...
Yoga gurus have shut their shop . All ashrams are closed.
We are told to meditate from home take online classes
Sit in lotus pose. Padmasana. and pray..Pisses me off
None has the balls to defy curfew...all bars closed
Sportsmen...gym goers...flexing biceps...men !!
The only party in town ...hold your breath..
are for drinking of Cow urine...YES.
They say it is a cure.
Raise a toast to - GauMutra
All are invited ! At least they are showing some balls .
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)
I love plenty green grass growing with flowers
fireflies flickering at shows at nighttime
their bio-luminescence internal night-lights flashing
people pleasuring by the beach with hot sunny sun-tanning
builders are there on many beaches with wet sandy sandcastles
swimmers are swimming; snorkelers are submerged in blue water
sun has illuminated many bike trails for mountain-bike bicycling
sunrays light up parks to have some fun of festive fraternizing
days are longer with sunsets a glow of lavender tinge and orange
4th, July has multi foods of tasty outdoor tender barbequing
summer sun brings out short-sleeves boasters bulging biceps
freedoms a most pleasurable thing of this most seasonal season