The satisfice and Discipline
Turning flab into superior muscle
The preparation
Bodybuilding competition
Competitive spirit
Bodybuilder’s muscle magazine dream
Becoming the best champion
Masterpiece body
Through the elements of training principles
Lift and intensify
Grasp the glorious bodybuilding Title of all being MR. OLYMPIA
Vision wide and strong
Challenging the possibilities in becoming the victor
Platform posing stage
The excitement and muscle amaze
Judge’s captivation
The win
The Trophy
Recognition
Showcase
Stardom
Greatness
Cheers at the end
Muscle opponent win.
If the flash ran into a room and switched a light on would the light hit him
if Gotham was in Africa he might have been the elephant man
If she’s holding the lasso she has to tell the truth too just a wonder
Superman flash which could m@@@@&@@@bate. faster
New Glasgow superhero unveiled-
Gettaeman
Surely the worst thing the Devil could do was be good Sorry back to the poem
I don’t know what side of this
Any how here goes
He vibrates every single atom at once
Nope okay
Sex
I mean it’s over quick
Although the speed
You wouldn’t need to undress
Plenty of time to shop
Catch up the girls
You could have sex everywhere no one would know
He is always late that really bugs me
I can definitely see some flab around his middle
Lycra ain’t forgiving
Yes I just fat shamed an imaginary character
His poor parents
Yeah well your da murdered your mum
Have you met me
Do you know why we have superheroes
because we don’t
Don is the ultimate user
His deals seal you as a loser
When Trump holds the cards
The lives now in shards
Bear witness he’s an abuser
The Don has a trick to reveal
He’ll dick you and cancel your deal
Like hands on your neck
Trump voids your paycheck
And feels ecstasy when you squeal
If acts are life’s indicator
Don’s a classic woman hater
Though cratered with flab
Trump will pussies grab
As rapist and a dictator
What will show how Don’s dick-brain thinks?
Trump’s thrusts come with lies and high jinks!
Amid this disgust
Some high and non-plussed
Have heads up his rump with what stinks!
Stooped shoulders, shuffling gait
Bulging belly, too much weight
Double-chin, arms of flab
Dissect me in the science lab
Nuh-uh, no way... No shame allowed today
Three cheers for fat: Butt, Hips ~ Display!
‘The food’s a little spicy’ ~
Is there a fire extinguisher in the house?
‘She’s got a figure to die for’ ~
Somewhere under those layers of flab.
‘He’s aggressive, and that’s what I like in my salesmen.’ ~
A bull in a china shop looks like a ballet dancer next to him.
‘Grandma plays a mean game of hearts.’ ~
She leads with the Queen of Spades.
‘One thing about my sister. She sure is talkative.’ ~
Her ears have disappeared ever since she grew her hair long.
‘I think the boss has ‘a thing’ for oldies.’ ~
He blasts Led Zeppelin’s ‘Immigrant Song’ over the intercom all day.
‘When she sees Scott, her knees turn to mush.’ ~
That way, her knees match the rest of her body.
'I'd say that rookie is a 'can't-miss prospect.' ~
If he misses even one practice, he's off the team for good.
‘Your teeth are like stars, Zelda.’ ~
They come out every night.
They restricted celebrations,
forget your relations.
They restricted travel,
watched families unravel.
They restricted purchases,
no provided services.
They closed the schools,
those were the new rules.
They closed the churches,
no Sunday soul searches.
They closed the gyms
and the flab begins.
They closed the restaurants,
forget sweet tooth wants.
They closed the theaters,
no full-length features.
They closed retail stores,
no welcoming doors.
They closed the bars,
murmurs of wars.
Society accepted it as well as they could,
as everyone felt the need to be good.
But then they closed the brothel –
an act so heinously hostile –
What? You call that a plan!
That’s when the fight began.
Here he comes! They all say, anticipating fantastical antics.
He does not disappoint. Pushes his head into the fish tank.
Shakes broken cracker crumbs onto an unsuspecting partygoer,
Leads the room into spontaneous dancing. Lifts his shirt to show his flab.
The others come out from the kitchen, recognizing that he is here.
He is doing his best to dazzle them, to make them smile, to keep them laughing.
They are grateful he has finally arrived. The party was a dud up until now.
Do you think someone should take him home? Someone offers six hours later.
There are no volunteers. He has no friends, only spectators.
He is the ultimate party animal, yet, none have been to his house.
He spent his life becoming a comic entertainer for solemn stuffed animals.
He falls asleep on the couch, and they tiptoe around him.
The next party it all begins again. They lie in wait, wishing he would hurry.
It is dull until he arrives. They keep looking at the door expectantly.
No one fills a room with laughter as fast as he does.
Alas, he is not coming. He committed suicide by hanging an hour before.
No tellin' how long coronavirus will keep me confined at home,
Since the guv'ner insists that I wash my hands and I'm not to roam!
It has upset my routine since its genesis in a place called Wuhan,
But it'll give me time to do things around here that need doin'!
I really need to remove last fall's leaves that accrued in the gutter,
And 'twould be the perfect time to clear the attic of its clutter.
There are piles of books in my library that I've put off readin',
And the flower beds and garden need a thorough weedin'.
The windows need washin' to clear them of winter's grime,
And I need to repair the clock that is gradually losin' time.
Since spring has arrived the lawn sure needs fertilizin',
And to get rid of winter's flab, I need to do more exercisin'!
But hold on! This list of chores sounds too much like work!
Some day I'll tackle these jobs, but for now, them I opt to shirk!
So I think I'll just take it easy and compose a poem today,
But for the life of me I cannot think of a thing to say!
Resisting temptation, oh why do we try.
Each resolution our lifestyles deny.
Self sacrifice, gives results we can measure.
Overweight flab, the product of pleasure.
Luncheon consists of some pieces of fruit.
Ulterior motives for wearing, a skimpy swimsuit.
Testing resolve, or a mere passing whim,
Impulsive actions are needed to slim.
Over achieving what nature intends.
Now we're enjoying a vacation with friends.
Slimming once more starts, when each new year ends.
1/ 30/ 2020.
Got a saggy butt balanced with overhanging belly
Try “Liftabulge” guaranteed satisfaction as seen on the telly
Get rid of that flab
This product is fab
Even Hollywood starlets apply this nice-smelling jelly
On a public beach, they sat,
An ordinary pair
Of middle age, content, it seemed,
To soak some sunshine there.
Her rolls of flab revealed the fact
That half of her was nude,
Her breasts quite unencumbered,
Though her reasons did elude.
Was tanning her objective
Or perhaps a cooling breeze
Which a bathing suit would hinder
Or did digging straps displease?
Or just maybe she went topless
‘Cause her body made her proud
Or, most likely, just because the law
Says that it is allowed.
When birds take a bath in your birdbath
Are they self-conscious about nudity and their overweight flab
They could put on a bathrobe
But no arms for the armholes
They turn on our faucet and create a big splash
Saddens when strength fritters, muscles run to flab with age;
a once smooth surface wrinkles bold etchings of joy and sorrows
while rough landscape seizes the trophy, buries beauty beneath
creases and squinting eyes and drooping girth and jarring joints.
Look at a mirror—you're yet you at heart though reflection feigns.
Beauty is forever, not strength, not health. Life has a bell-shaped
trajectory—a sure-fire sine curve, though the sonic boom pales
at prime. Blurred vision fails to see the diminishing present
or the long haul ahead; ought to, and so cuddle the rhythm,
bound up to breast the finish line. Else gamble at summer's crest;
winter in the trough with a wobble. What an old age with sighs
and stings, peace paling with aching joints and flabby muscles!
Robbed of youthful verve, a pain prick twitches the nerves.
What a youth spent as if now's forever! We all need a brace ahead
of when the frail frame fails at nine or ninety... or in between!
The wise may think otherwise. Maybe!! The pudding has proof.
All I know: Old age is divine!
© Celestine S. Ikwuamaesi
4 February, 2019
Just got weighed, discovered I'm too short for my weight
Should be seven foot three with bulging muscles to equate
But instead of that
Got mucho flab
Though the muscles between my ears are stunningly great
Just got weighed, discovered I'm too short for my weight
Should be seven foot three with bulging muscles to equate
But instead of that
Got mucho flab
Though the muscles between my ears are stunningly great
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