Short Biceps Poems
Short Biceps Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Biceps by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Biceps by length and keyword.
Ladies parade around in their skimpy bikinis
Looking for rich dudes driving Lamborghinis
I'm not rich but possess
Big biceps and chest
And more important is my charming wee genie
What really attracts most women to men
Does the size of their biceps make ladies yen
Methinks not, that ain't it
A little boy image is always a hit
So start wearing a diaper with a loaded back end
What really attracts most women to men
Does the size of their biceps make ladies yen
Methinks not, that ain't it
A little boy image is always a hit
So start wearing a diaper with a loaded back end
Young boys
Looking in the mirror
Combing hair with wet comb
Practicing alluring smile
Flexing developing biceps
Steel yet to be hardened
Dreaming with sweaty palms
Hoping she says yes
Inspired by Monterey's poem Hope
Ladies parade around in their skimpy bikinis
Looking for rich dudes in Lamborghinis
I'm not rich but possess
Big biceps and chest
And more important is my charming wee genie
© Jack Ellison 2015
Ladies parade around in their skimpy bikinis
Looking for rich dudes driving Lamborghinis
I'm not rich but possess
Big biceps and chest
And more important is my excitable wee genie
© Jack Ellison 2015
ten reps of ten,
here I go again.
Today I work on my biceps,
triceps,
I feel great.
Ten reps of ten,
sweat soaking my beater.
Nobody to lend a hand,
all this weight,
I can,
do my ten reps of ten..
Jared Pickett
10/3/09
Asavvy1
Sit-ups, planks, and crunches
My push-ups done in bunches
Deep heavy squats from the rack
Deadlifts are good for my back
Just pumping up my biceps
And cutting up my triceps
I'm sweating harder each day
So I look sharp when I play
Limerick : Once a dashing Damsel with tough biceps
Once a dashing Damsel with tough biceps
Tried to bulge her pectorals with triceps
Compressed air back-fired
To where moon was mired
Since then carries pec-pumps in contracepts.
© T. Wignesan – Paris, 2013
bare shoulders ripple
straining with unseen weight
scarred biceps bulge
saturated by interior rain
veins bursting forth
exploding from darkness
forearms swell abnormally
hiding suppressed emotion
fingers clutch frantically
for a heart shattering......
Boulder shoulders,
bursting biceps,
terrifying to see,
a menacing mountain
of a muscle-man
he used to be.
Now, bedridden,
he wilts away his days
till the end arrives.
This nursing home's
locked doors hide
closing and closed lives.
There once was a sweet little lass from Eire
Who had everything a man could desire
A mustache she wore
And biceps galore
With bass voice like that of the town crier
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
My face is sunburned crimson, the skin
on my forearms is peeling off, bruises
appear on my biceps, a red gash
gashes across the front of my shoulder, my calves
tighten, my thumb joint
makes it painful to write, I can’t really explain
what’s wrong with the side of my neck
but my heart feels good
for the first time
in twelve days.
Trois Par Huit
AAB BB BCC
3,6,9,12,12,9,6,3
Workout
muscle bound
gaining pound after pound
triceps, biceps, lats, a cut up back.
Push ups, sit ups, crunches to create a six pack,
tuna fish, chicken, fruits and veggies for a snack.
Summer is here, I can't do without
Bronze body tan, so devout.
This work-out.
Jared Pickett
5/12/2010
Asavvy1
Form:
flexes his biceps
tucks his flabby tummy in
vanity in vain
a score to settle
through tough machismo's battle
male ego's title
but can't hit his foe
spits on his face, oh, no
worse than a KO !
I can patch up an injury
Block the loss of blood
I can undergo surgery
I can erase the scars
But my mind’s wounds bleed forever
I may be in good shape
Stretching my body with ease
I may have flexi biceps
Every eye they may please
But my mind’s strength succeeds forever
I may feast at banquets
Pick the finest cuisines
Sway at a music fest
Have joyous recreation
But my mind’s hunger is feeds forever
BASKETS OF SAND AND CORAL
Here on my roof on Eastern pillows spread
I watch the “slaves” unload the dhows-
Strong black men with bulging biceps,
Carrying baskets of sand and coral on their heads.
In monotonous repetition they trudge,
From ship to sea wall, from wall to shore,
Each a vital link of their conveyor belt,
As their forefathers have been in ages past,
Passing baskets of sand and coral on their heads.
BASKETS OF SAND AND CORAL
Here on my roof on Eastern pillows spread
I watch the “slaves” unload the dhows-
Strong black men with bulging biceps,
Carrying baskets of sand and coral on their heads.
In monotonous repetition they trudge,
From ship to sea wall, from wall to shore,
Each a vital link of their conveyor belt,
As their forefathers have been in ages past,
Passing baskets of sand and coral on their heads.
I dreamt of Babe Ruth
in Howard Johnsons'
lighted pool doing
the backstroke so brilliantly.
No bats lying around
anywhere. warm water
reflected dorsal pecs,
beautiful biceps, round
spiral muscles fanning
along so softly.
Finally finding the nerve
to say: Babe! your a
ballplayer; Sultan of swat.
Smiling at me timidly:
I'm a ballplayer and a
a swimmer. He replied
calmly gliding away.
A swan in the moonlight.
In that small village
Behind the bamboo front
Where the small heart
Made of bamboo leaves
Smokes its cigars
Through its roof
Stands a young old man
Whose twisting cheeks
And biceps and triceps
Turns outside inwards
Looking up the berry plant
Yawning at the fruit unripe
His own body pillars
Whose frail body bends
Can’t stand the size
The wait and load above it
As he tries to climb the berry
He falls and lies still