Long Treadmill Poems
Long Treadmill Poems. Below are the most popular long Treadmill by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Treadmill poems by poem length and keyword.
Nobody asked….
But
…why are there instructions in Braille at the drive thru window
…I think they should change the YIELD sign to….. NOW PLAY NICE
…I have an agreement with the fish – I pick up floating debris….they hit my lures.
…the line I get into always slows down
…couldn’t they solve the toilet paper shortage by making it longer?
…my treadmill has an attitude – it is powered by me and the computer keeps flashing
“YOU’RE KILLING ME”
…my first argument with a teacher was about POETRY
…my last argument with a teacher was with my 7 year old granddaughter
…my remote control only works on the TV – but I keep tryin’
John G. Lawless
©11/29/2021
The New Norm
By: Miracle Man
3-37-2020
Three years ago
an unforeseen chain of events transpired in my life
that created a new place for my existence.
While this new normal isn’t the place I would have chosen,
God knew it was where I needed to be.
The physical place hasn’t changed
but the things I enjoyed doing, I can’t do,
and the things I can do, I don’t do.
I see myself as a man on a treadmill,
always moving but going nowhere;
consumed daily by boredom and stress,
but still, in my heart, I sing God’s song
in a world sometimes feeling, I no longer belong.
“Growing old isn’t for sissies”
Tom
From the Elephant's diary
You find me giantly like Gulliver, huge and obese
but I met my doc, he said take it with ease....
for you big is more beautiful so eat more cheese
I am on my diet of sugarcane juice,
lush green grass n' tons of bamboos
Mammoth was my forefather not anymore seen
Now I know being gigantic is in my genes
Instructor at the gym shooed me away
for I broke his treadmill with my single step I say
We love to have our bath in nature's pool
We dabble water with our trunk till we are all cool
A relaxing shower for all friends after hectic schedule!
In our forest club, trophy for best music band,
we won last week for our trumpet troupe!
Large is our family my Jumbo uncle says,
Old and wise he is in our tuskers' herd
He says our eyes are small, to see
only little good left in this big bad world
And our ears are large to fan away
the gossips and bad we hear
Thick skin we do have so called pachyderms
to shrug off the hurling vices of the woods
but we have a large heart to spread
loads of love to all species widespread
In history, we have a place reserved
for in wars and royal processions,
we were used as pride symbols he says
Revered animals we are since eons.....
In country called India, heritage animal we are
and even worshipped in religious places he says!
Huge boulders or logs ,mankind used us for transport
We even entertain them in zoos and circus
But he regrets that we are poached, killed by men
to pull out pair of our incisors called tusks
who polish to make precious ivory to earn bucks
So useful and harmless friends to humans we are
I asked my uncle why so cruel the men are?
He said men show their power
of being Nature's superior creature
we elephant folk are helpless giants
We can do nothing but to pray that
we be valued for our selfless services and
be saved from going extinct from this world!
©Copyright Anulaxmi Nayak,2015
For contest: Giant animals
Sponsored by: D.Nathan
Date: 2nd September 2015
Sweet hope has taught no truth more fair -
the soul should like a garment wear
divine righteousness; mine, threadbare.
I'm stunned by doubt that passes by
Christ’s majesty… to edify
man's shallow robes. Feet and hands lie
exposed to the world’s suspect eye,
rough clouds obscure and fog love's sky.
Emotions reign; disdain runs deep;
in dogma’s cup, reactions steep.
Snubbing the Spirit’s sway, men sweep...
rejecting virgin birth; their drill
denying Sonship, overkill.
Launching trust as on a treadmill,
rather than reckoning God’s will.
Devotee daydreams his way uphill
leaving his faith at a standstill.
*******************
written April 22, 2019
William Kekaula's contest: Impact and Metaphors
There's a treadmill in the corner of the room
Gathering dust, gathering dust.
I must get my fat ass on it very soon,
Yes I must, yes I must.
This time my New Year's resolution
I won't break, I won't break.
I'll get into the rhythm and the motion
Till I ache, till I ache.
I need to drop a couple more pounds ... like fifty,
Yes I do, yes I do.
To get back into shape and looking nifty,
But forty would do, forty would do.
There's a treadmill in the corner of the room
Gathering dust, gathering dust.
I need to fit into a swimsuit real soon,
Yes I must, it's Mexico or bust.
for Carolyn's "New Year's Resolutions" contest
How ideal to luxuriate
supposed divine right frill
maximizing climate control
with matter of fact bravado
creature comfort pang to fulfill
consequent flagrant portent
to exercise freewill
beware controlled environment
pays hefty bill
cracking heat as
temperature gets chill
cumulative destructive
ecological footprints generated,
thus advisable to swallow
figuratively bitter pill,
herewith suggested
binary/digital quill,
cuz unchecked energy
consumption will
necessitate fossil fuels
subjected to frack and drill
invariably contribute
render moot no rhyme
or reason for Jack and Jill
to hastily clamber uphill
fetching pail of possibly
tainted, ruined, polluted... water
evidenced courtesy eutrophication
algal blooms, decimated krill
aquatic flora and fauna stockstill
meaning... untenable for life
perhaps percolating, spewing, zapping...
seepage from landfill
nsync with detritus
many industries spill,
not necessarily directly
linkedin to cranking thermostat until
warmth ideal for barenaked ladies,
who cavort, frolic,
viz yule eyes imagistic poetic skill
veritably lighting boathouse row
reflections shimmering, scintillating,
glistening off Schuylkill
deceptive brilliant appearance
unsafe toxic drinking water courtesy mill
yens flowing electrons to power
industrial secretes no longer confidential
public knowledge and awareness critical
to stem tide allowing, enabling,
and providing juice to sustain treadmill
ever faster rat race pace of life cozily housing
*****sapiens hermetically sealed against
extreme temperatures,
ye must adapt experiencing chill
bundling layers of clothes -
case in point yours truly,
who also keeps windows ajar
refreshing brisk air lungs to fill.
Lisa was carefully pulling a strand of cotton candy off a paper-coned “barbe à papa” - winding it around her finger while absentmindedly gazing at a carousel. She seemed hypnotized by its white horses, trimmed in gold, with their brassy red and blond manes, as they hopped, like slow-motion rabbits, in circles beneath wreaths and garlands of colored lights.
My watch jiggled me awake, mid-dream. I was bemused. It took me a moment to orient myself. I groggily pushed the sheets off and performed a big stretch. It's Monday morning, I think. “Alexa, what’s today?” I ask, to be sure. “It’s Monday, April 25th,” she says.
A beautiful, if cloudy spring morning was going to bloom on the other side of my jacobian glass windows - any minute now. At least according to my weather app. “Alexa, good morning,” I say, to start my rattling, sputtering, steampunk sounding coffee maker.
College time is warped, measured more in deadlines than minutes. There’s no plan other than your class or test schedule and let me refresh you on the rules – there are no rules, I’m free to do whatever I want. I actually chuckle at that thought.
College is transformative but there’s a hoary sameness to it. Read, discuss, review and test - wash, rinse and repeat. This morning is reserved for test review. I have a final this morning - well, sort of.
Some classes have a quintet of tests instead of a big midterm and nerve-racking final. It smooths out the stress, but you still have an almost forensic exploration of ideas, and you want the answers queued-up, ready for easy access.
I quickly washed and donned my workout-wear. A glance at my watch told me I was right on time. I’d loaded my shoulder bag last night, with my book, highlighters, my phone, Air-Pods and a water bottle. I grab it as I head out. I’ll do my review on the treadmill.
Anna opens her door just as I do mine - perfect. We’re off to the gym.
Winner takes all
He sat on the sofa feeling disgruntled, watching TV
about a young woman who read a poem about hill climbing.
I have climbed many hills, he said to himself,
but there was always a steeper hill to conquer.
Take sport, he said, women win everything you care to mention
even football and ice-hockey the last bastion for men has been invaded
to the newspapers delight, of course, the editors are women,
as are the contributors; it isn’t fair.
His wife enters. She has been on the treadmill for an hour,
asks him if he has done the dishes? No! He says folding his arms in protest.
Do them now the cleaning lady is coming, she may think badly about us.
Triumph, at last, he thinks, typical female worries about silly things.
It’s a rainy, snowy Tuesday morning, so I headed to our fitness center (in the basement) to walk on a treadmill. On arrival there were four or five guys there. There was a time when that would have been reason enough for me to not go in - if I was alone - I’d skip it, but I feel more at home now.
Late one Sunday night I decided to treadmill. A few guys were there on the weight-cable-machines at the far end of the room (it’s huge) and I decided give it a try anyway.
As I was setting up to walk, this one string-bean of a guy did an funny, exaggerated flex in my direction, saying loudly, “I’m the man of your DREAMS!”
To which I quipped back, “The man of MY dreams would do my chemistry fact-sheet.” (homework)
Which got a laugh from the guys who went back to their workout - ignoring me. That’s when I began to relax.
I'm in a stagnant job, deep in despair,
The rich have money—why don’t they care?
Rent rises, every necessity inflates
Why can’t I get a few bucks from Bill Gates?
I work all day, and come home beat
I step over homeless, sleeping on the street
I'm on a treadmill, no way to get ahead
Not even money for a concert by the "Grateful Dead."
I was at the rally for Mamdani, we chanted "tax the rich"
Kathy Hochul said, "I hear ya", for our socialist niche.
I may not have ability, but I can plead
From each according to ability, to each his need.
Our deficit is trillions, what's a few million more?
I could buy a mansion on the Georgia island shore
I say let's clean out all those rich guy's plates
Maybe then I'll attract some cooler dates!
Think of all those billionaires, and shed a tear
There's Tim Springer, monoclonal pioneer
What has he got that I haven't got?
My scooter is broken, but I'd sure like a yacht.
There's Carl Hansen, whose money grows on trees
He uses A.I. to find treatments for disease
If only he would fund my next MRI
I'd bake him a cookie, for a standup guy!
There's August Troendle who founded "Medpace"
I'd like to demand my due from him face to face
He runs clinical trials for drug companies
Would he spare a few million, if I say "please?"
China has many a science billionaire
How about international donations, shouldn't they share?
Instead of preparing for World War Three
Couldn't they give some Yuan to me?
So I'll vote AOC, Bernie and Zohran
That way I know where my next meal comes from.
You might argue that they'll make bad into worse
But for now, I want my share of the purse.