Squat Poems

[FUZO]

TweetSquat Poems

THE SQUAT

Down this road, in a gym far away,
a young man was heard to say,
"no matter what i do, my legs won't grow"
he tried leg extensions, leg curls, and leg presses , too
trying to cheat, these sissy workouts he'd do.

from the corner of the gym where the big men train,
through a cloud of chalk and the midst of pain
where the noise is made with big forty fives,
a deep voice bellowed as he wrapped his knees.
a very big man with legs like trees.

laughing as he snatched another plate from the stack
chalking his hands and monstrous back,
said, "boy, stop lying and don't say you've forgotten,
the trouble with you is you ain't been SQUATTIN'. "

-----------DALE CLARK-----------



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Mighty Squat By; Joe Skopec

We've come to squat so run and hide
You bicep freaks must step aside

Just take your sissy selves elsewhere
You'll turn your heads but still you'll stare

Go right ahead and pay attention
Glimpse into this strange dimension

Yeah you're still weak and never grow
This world of pain you'll never know

Your shouts upon the leg-press, phony!
Noodle legs like macaroni

Some day I hope you'll understand
And wrench free from the poser band

Puny curl bars, leave this spot
The rack named for the mighty SQUAT




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Untitled By; PDS

The young man looked fit, thick through the chest. Bulging biceps and triceps. Washboard abs and the rest.
He strode a bit closer. To my shock and surprise!
I saw his torso supported, by two spindly thighs!
He walked with confidence and no apprehensions,
as he performed his first set of leg extensions!
I watched this debacle, watched his face turn askew.
Watched him scream in mock agony, 'til his set was all through.
T'was then I approached him and extended my hand.
"I don't mean to disrupt you, but excuse me, young man!
I was admiring your work. Man, that set was nice!
But I wonder if I might offer some helpful advice?"
He spoke not a word. Simply nodded his head.
I could read his expression. He wished I were dead.
"Get off this contraption! You're wasting your time!
Go to the squat rack! You can see....there's NO line!
You don't need machines! You don't need to look far!
Just load on the weight and get under the bar!
Unrack that sucker! Squat ass to the floor!
Grab some big plates, and load on some more!
Hear the iron rattle as you pound out each rep!
But please, my friend! YOU must take the first step!
Come with me now! To the squat rack we'll go!
Together we'll get those tiny pegs to grow!"
He studied me hard. He seemed in a haze.
No words came! He stood in a daze!
'Say SOMETHING, son! Speak to me, PLEASE!'
'I can't do it!', he screamed! 'I have bad knees!'




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Through a cloud of chalk, the big man appears Belt cinched tight, no look of fear.

With blood shot eyes, he approaches the bar Rage flowing through him, a war in his heart.

The cold steel greets him, his best friend Un-racking the tonnage, the bar starts to bend.

Sets up in his stance now, and takes in his air The weight feels light, he’s already there.

Unlocking his hips, and taking it down His mind now blank, he hears no sounds.

Reversing the gears, and driving it up The blood starts to flow, the crowd erupts.

A smile cracks his face, a bloody-toothed grin The bar grinds to lockout, he’s helped to the pins.

Three whites blaze bright, the Vegas strip There’s stars in his eyes, and blood on his lip.

A finger of thanks, to the Man up above He shakes off the haze and his handler’s hugs.

It’s just who he is, born, bred, and true He’d die for the PR, he’s paid his dues.

Cause there’s nothing like the feel, the knurled bar on his back He smiles; the loaders grab more plates from the stack.

Rick Walker



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Treading softly but surely I enter the room
I'm like Gary Cooper and now is High Noon
My enemy waits near the fire escape door
Just waiting to crush, leave me smashed on the floor

The weaker men sneer, but bow down their head
I'm walking a path they don't dare to tread
The stronger men smile and kind words are spoken
I'll leave this place proud or I'll leave this place broken

I'm limber and ready I'm stretched and prepared
My foe waits impassive, it knows that I'm scared
Now battle is joined as I start my attack
The great heavy beast like a bear on my back

My shoulders are aching I sink towards the ground
My legs feel like breaking my eardrums now pound
The beast pushes down now I use all my might
A huge surge of effort I'm winning the fight

I rise like the Phoenix my comrades all yell
They've helped and cajoled, They've been through this Hell
They've nurtured me, cussed me, been there like true mates
I'm one of the guys now I've squatted five plates.

John Stokes



--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When my ass leaves the breaking floor,
Lifting weight of such amount
That no mortal eye can count,
All of sudden on top I soar
And Realize:
To happiness there's no such bind
As a PR that's left behind!
Squat! Squat! Squat!

[kite]

TweetI've read a couple of those before, cool poems.