Short Triceps Poems
Short Triceps Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Triceps by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Triceps by length and keyword.
Grunts, groans, grimaces
suited to biceps and triceps
Became the discourse of Wimbledon
without becoming it one bit
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
Muscle Memory
Looking in the mirror,
I am getting older;
the loss of muscle mass
Sink-holing the skin
with pockmarks and the sagging
of my triceps and hamstrings
shows me so.
Ten pounds for every ten years, they say.
With such drastic loss of muscle memory
I soon forget how to crawl.
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:
bounty bodies blush
under taunted touch
felon flesh foster
tuning tactic trigger
puking pulsing bullets
seeped'n saucy triceps
callous capillaries cremated
fiery feelings hoisted
fostering foil funeral
embalmed zeal oozes
eerie ******** fuming
at tarred ****
passion scaled peaks -
smeared smothered spree.
'20:02:05:19:21
Note: A picture prompt.
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