Tuesday poem: My lover Jim

November 5, 2012

My lover Jim

is ramrod straight, and flexible as steel.
Once he’s on top, it’s hard to make him shift.
He makes me sigh, and grunt and feel
pain, though sometimes I can just lift
him before he renders me 2D.
I have swooned and swallowed blood.
Nausea breaks like a fainting sea,
and I have to stop before it floods.
My legs at such weird wide angles
kicking the heavy sky; or squats:
my hair sweated into ratty tangles,
and arms tied in barbarous knots.
Knees squeak like fearful rodents
in the famous verse by Burns, Robbie
as I scythe myself into components.
He’s more an addiction than just a hobby.
Jim’s real charms show up in rear view
when I’m alone with a looking glass —
four times a week between one, and two,
makes miracles of muscle unsurpassed.

P.S. Cottier

My legions of loyal readers will have noticed that I just took slightly more than a week off. There were many reasons for this; a little disappointment here; a mini-existential crisis there. But my attending the gym four times a week had something to do with it too.

Now that poem above is something of an exaggeration. I have never fainted at the gym, although I have come close. There is nothing miraculous about the changes I am seeing. Some are so slow that they are only noticeable over months rather than weeks.

My legs and back are much stronger than my arms and chest. I may never be able to bench-press very much. But I am already doing much better than when I started, about four months ago. And it is a long time since I felt this fit, and that is a good thing.

With my bike and Jim, I will be a powerful beast by Christmas. I am so hoping that the beast will be a koala.

(And incidentally, a man who acted like the anthropomorphised Jim in the poem would be given short shrift by one little convert to exercise. Shrift shorter than a short string. Look! My very own tongue twister!)

Now, my dear weaklings, click this feather, if you can manage that, and head over to New Zealand for more poetry:
Tuesday Poem

And, if you’re interested, fellow Tuesday Poet Tim Jones posted a review of the recently published Triptych Poets, of which I make up one-third. You could also head to his blog to read that.

4 Responses to “Tuesday poem: My lover Jim”

  1. Well I am in awe Penelope! Powerful beast…to be! However I think to go with this grunty poem we will all be expecting a picture of the action some time soon 🙂

  2. pscottier said

    There is nothing more attractive than a middle aged woman trying not to vomit, Helen! Thank you for commenting on this; I’ll flip over to your blog now to see what you’ve been up to.

  3. I never thought I’d find myself quoting Kingsley Amis here (or anywhere), but: Lucky Jim to have so much of your devotion!

  4. pscottier said

    What’s a little middle class lit between amis, hm? Yes, usually I confine myself to bad puns in one language, but after seeing a brilliant Indonesian poet today, I thought I’d branch out. Into French.

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