Bitter Chocolate

The last dropp of sleep
Slurped by the wily night
I flew kites against
The erratic insomniac air

They once lifted me up
And equally pulled me down
Just the thread in my hands
Didn't really make me a kite-flyer!

The kites flew at their will
Somersaulting like
The best of gymnasts
performing on the darkest sky

Colourful dots losing their colour
On the darkest skies
Winds at their wits
Me, a non-entity!

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poem by Indira Babbellapati
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Gymnast

A crash influences a gym of brains,
Guzzling food and guzzling drink;
The crash is certain and weak for me,
For I force the laughter of the years
Tonight as if blocks have collided into
My belly, forming bruises and wounds
That never desist growing everyday.
A gym of brains wets my belly
With flowing natural water and blood
That enters the system forever in reply.
One gymnast made it slowly to the vault
And fell over backwards to achieve
The desired result. Once she finished
The audience cheered and speculated.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Baseball players have the worst body in sports

Baseball players have the worst body in sports
Gymnast and swimmers have the best
High board divers are fit and firm in form
And football players have to much fat
Ballet dancers look fine in their cups
Long distance runners are tight by their breath
Weight lifers are much to bulky in their built
So which is it that I like best?
It is the ice skater that takes my heart
Their movement of grace pleases me to no end
The way they twist trill and bend
The way they lean upon the narrow blade
Jump and sway with a skater’s grace.

poem by David E. Patton
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Very strange animals

I know of a bird who can't stand heights
and a Moth who hates bright lights.
There's a Camel who detests the heat
and I saw an Elephant with tiny little feet.
I've witnessed a snail run very very fast
and a Sloth become an Olympic gymnast.
I've heard of a Polar bear who's allergic to snow
and I know a Giraffe who lives in a bungalow.
I've seen a Rabbit driving a sports car
and been served drinks by a Zebra in a bar.
Did you know a Gorilla lives in my street
and his mate a Lion who won't eat meat?
Yes these animals are strange and a bit queer
but I wrote this and I'm Rudolph the Reindeer!

poem by Kevin Halls
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~ His[s]tory ~

History Maker ~ Fossilized Custodian
History Breaker ~ Reckless Bohemian
History Reformer ~ Abortive Artisan
History Seeker ~ Obsessive Varifocalian
History Writer ~ Hyperbolic Historian
History Critique ~ Diplomatic Confucian
History Reader ~ Befuddled Bookman.

Better Opt For ~ Gymnastic Geography
Enjoy Floor Exercise ~ In Poetry.

Won’t You?

If Not Check Cervical Spine
For Etiology Of Vertigo Sign.

==
Glossary: Humbly given for what I tried to express: ~
Varifocalian: Metaphorically used relating to a lens that is graduated to permit any length of vision between near and distant.

poem by Ms. Nivedita Bagchi Spc. Uk.
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In a World of Counter Creation

Just a prick
Less than an ant’s sting
In its intensity
There you lie
Your body turned into
A piece of seasoned wood
It gets sawed
It gets stitched
The way needed to re-fix it like
A piece of designer-furniture
In unique patterns

And

There they’re
A beaming smile
In walking white
Service at heart
Compassion on lips
Always on their feet

[...] Read more

poem by Indira Babbellapati
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True Realities

The birds spread their wings
and close it almost simultaneously
as they sail with the wind
the dogs bark violently
to proclaim their territory
the horse throws its fist
stands on two hooves
and makes a picture of a muscular man modeling
the spider monkeys do superb acrobatics
but had never been a gymnastic medalist
the Lion roars
the Cock crows
but the Frog croaks
even the goat is foolish but does not know
and the Lizard nods as if it understands everything that goes
knowing these, Humans go on with their daily activities
forgetting God's love and His blessings
His hate for sin and judgement
and mostly His daily requirements

poem by Bernard Otumun
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The Idler’s Calendar. Twelve Sonnets For The Months. February

UNDER THE SPEAKER'S GALLERY

In all the comedy of human things
What is more mirthful than for those, who sit
Far from the great world's vain imaginings,
To mingle in its war of words and wit,
A listener here, when Greek meets Greek, Fox Pitt,
At question--time in the Queen's Parliament?
'Tis the arena of old Rome. Here meet
More than mere Dacians on mere slaughter bent.

Yonder and close to Mr. Speaker's chair,
Enfolding all things in a net of words,
Stands our first gymnast. Let the rest beware.
The Tory Stafford, with voice sweet as bird's,
Shall answer him anon, or bolder borne
And if luck favours, from the nether herds
A voice of patriot wrath shall rise in scorn,
Or even young Cassius blow his windy horn.

poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
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A Shift in Perception-4

God,
At times I feel
You are playing
A practical joke
Just to poke
Fun at me.

Perhaps
To make me see
That I need to lighten up,
And just worry too much.
And abuse
Your gift of imagination
For no rhyme or reason.

Or to provoke
Me to think
Out of the box
And do some
Mental gymnastics

[...] Read more

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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After ceremonial with Tugur

Gur, you should be proud with this
falling on the top of the table
and you buy the Sufi's book
often
We teased by gymnastics pamphlet ~
......HEALTHY ALA.....
or stop smoking
but we don't know
who is the king of our hearts
This hand may also have
could no longer hold
our children
because
as leaf
we have
yellow
will soon fall
by the wind
and the rain hit
our heads with his love

[...] Read more

poem by Imam Setiaji Ronoatmojo
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Persevered

Well then I fought the monsters
And then I fought their
Young:
So like tattooed stewardesses with
All of their body scars:
And they were so flexible,
And they were gymnasts—or then they
Were entire constellations
And we were hanging around until Christmas
Across the easements—we were
So easily hung up—mouthless—song-bird less,
And I swore that you could not describe
My last monument towards you:
But the way to you turned out to be in echoes
And skateboards while the alley cats
Were cleaning their mouths of fried chicken and other
Uncertain forget-me-nots—
Dastardly awakening upon the frontier between here
And Mexico,
And why won’t you awaken—muse with my better

[...] Read more

poem by Bret R. Crabrooke
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Colonus' Praise

Chorus. Come praise Colonus' horses, and come praise
The wine-dark of the wood's intricacies,
The nightingale that deafens daylight there,
If daylight ever visit where,
Unvisited by tempest or by sun,
Immortal ladies tread the ground
Dizzy with harmonious sound,
Semele's lad a gay companion.
And yonder in the gymnasts' garden thrives
The self-sown, self-begotten shape that gives
Athenian intellect its mastery,
Even the grey-leaved olive-tree
Miracle-bred out of the living stone;
Nor accident of peace nor war
Shall wither that old marvel, for
The great grey-eyed Athene stareS thereon.
Who comes into this countty, and has come
Where golden crocus and narcissus bloom,
Where the Great Mother, mourning for her daughter
And beauty-drunken by the water

[...] Read more

poem by William Butler Yeats
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Mental Gymnastics

There is nothing like maintaining one's consciousness.
One that others may argue with from their point of view.
But a consciousness obtained,
By a life lived through one's own experiences.
And not borrowed from delusions inflicted by another's will.
Or disturbed by conflicts others dish to unnerve courage.

There is nothing like maintaining one's consciousness.
Even though from time to time,
A re-evaluation has to be done...
Just to ensure what is being endured is not a wish,
But a true existence.
And one that is freed from the playing of mental gymnastics.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Wushu life

Nomore headache, i am really fine,
Early sunshine, got wushu in life.
Clear vision, feels like sprig season,
I am happy, its Wushu nothing else reason.
Whether you are a child, aged or you have Wife,
Its really nice, its awesome advice, join in wushu life.

We run faster with our master and show gymnastic,
Lets be healthy, with wushu and avoid plastic.
Tai-chi for tension you won't require a pension,
Listen to Narayan gopal, Beatles or George benson.
Whether you are rich, poor or of any tribe,
Its really nice, its awesome advice, join in wushu life.

We do it with heart, its hard, they look at us,
It teaches us to treat, you must greet, we are faster than bus.
Black or white, this dress keeps us always fresh,
Come on, lets make a race for a good grace.
It doesnot matter whether they got a pistol, gun or a knife.
Its really nice, its awesome advice, join in wushu life.

poem by Diplove gautam
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Beauty Is You

Every day of my life, I see beauty around me
The smile of a child, a new dawn, even a tree
But the most beautiful thing is you
All objects coloured sky-blue are beautiful too
A gymnast's performance, a dolphin in the sea
green landscapes, millions of birds flying free
But the most beautiful thing is you
Your hair, your eyes and even your owl tattoo
Looking at your pic when you were only seven
anyone would say -this child fell from Heaven-
Years go by and you still keep such childish smile
when met you at the station, your cute face caught my eye
Beautiful is your mind, and also your heart
your feelings and thoughts, your fingers on the guitar
Beauty is to see you happy, instead of sad
moving forward and not looking back
Beautiful are the tears you have shed for me
they say more than all words on a paper could be
yeah, you are full of beauty, but beautiful is too
the unconditional love I deeply feel for you

[...] Read more

poem by Eva Marrero
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If I Get Some Rest

I would regale you with verbal gymnastics,
With lines so fine as to incline old Manley
Hopkins from the grave to rise and whistle,
Bones a-clatter, calling out to half-aghast
Poetic esthetes that he's met his match at
Last, and likes the thought. An atheist has
Found the beat, and, though his Lord is
Out of sorts, the rascal writes, and, doing
So, disports as if he treads the boards of
Heaven's stage and has the angels doing
Cha-chas, drinking rum, and hearing
Satan's siren song, and saying, sotto voce,
That there is more fun in hell than there,
But I am tired, out of tricks. I don't know
What to say.

poem by Lawrence Beck
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Greasy Jungle

Greasy jungle metropolis noir
Easy tangles the easiest so far
Ah
I drove down your road
to Hazeldean where I tasted
your funeral home's sandwiches and coffee
I saw your hands melt into one another
I saw you grieve and grow
care a lot about one another
I stood at your sink
and I felt your warm water
I washed your dishes
and I looked out your kitchen window where I
saw a soulful gymnast
melt in the air and shudder
just above the snow
making moves that just weren't there
Ah
Velvet callow with wet hands
I turned out the lights and

[...] Read more

song performed by The Tragically Hip from Day For Night
Added by Lucian Velea
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My Being Permeates

My conversion permeates through my being,
Solipsism shall be the thought for me;
Drooping from an attitude of cool nature,
The self is a puzzle for my own creation.
Like having arches of a door,
This self creates joy and dislike.
The real movement of this crazy life
Distends a wound on the readiness of souls.

My concerns are like the doorways,
Encyclical objects of thought.
The birth of bipeds resumes from the fore,
Their legs dangle once we are born.
In these gymnastics is an insolence,
One of the resonant sounds that apologize.
The captain of capsizing is afoot,
And the straddled human rights command a league.

poem by Naveed Akram
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The nudity, no need

Than the sight of a woman in circus,
Who bares herself save chest and hip,
The sight of a housewife excites more
When she walks through a stream
With her sari tucked up above the knee.

Than the sight of a supple woman in gymnastics,
Who shows her bare limbs and contour,
The sight of a woman next door excites more
When she stoops to sweep the yard,
Her blouse betraying her cleavage.

Than the sight of a virulent woman in swimsuit
Who swims in apparent transparency
The sight of a known woman excites more
When seen behind in front seat of the bus,
Her bra cut seen through beneath the blouse.

To excite, no need to expose
01.11.98

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Other Olympians

The Diver leapt off the high board
but missed the water and hit the floor
then his team-mate went and did the same
so the judges gave them a nil score.
The Cyclist set off in his opening heat
but he got a puncture half way round
when he was given a replacement bike
he fell off it hitting his head on the ground.
The Boxer said he'd win the Gold Medal
but in the first round got knocked out the ring
he ended up lying prone amongst the spectators
and a week later he still can't recall a thing.
The Javelin thrower said he felt really good
and he would beat the opponent from Denmark
but his Javelin got caught by a gust of wind
and it ended up outside the arena in the car park.
The Weightlifter raised the bar above his head
but his legs suddenly wobbled and turned to jelly
he ended up collapsed lying on the stage in a heap
with the heavy weight sitting perched on his belly.

[...] Read more

poem by Kevin Halls
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