Dinging Poems | Examples

I Want To Be Heard

I want to be heard. 
Like a bike dinging. 
Whirling by, has a path. 
Enjoying the busy howls. 

I want to be heard. 
Like a harmonica. 
Making unique sounds. 
Breathing hard and music is made.

I want to be heard. 
Like a helicopter. 
Which eats the sky with its blades. 
And lands on a landing pad every time. 

I want to be heard.
Like a bison. 
Like a campfire. 
Like vanilla extract. 

Opening my backpack.
Heaving this bag on the counter. 
There are no tools or clothes.
Just deflating sounds. 

I want to be heard. 
Even if it’s just the sound of deflating.

Night Out at the Carnival

Neon lights twinkle against the velvet, dark skies,
Ferris wheel spins like a huge ring of fireflies;
Shadows sway in the pavement, tents, booths, and crowds, 
As bright bulbs bring glare to cotton candy clouds .

Iron tunes from colorful carousel
Equalize clanking ride near the dinging bell;
Laughter listens to chatter screams in delight,
As hush whispers before the ride drops from height.

Sweet smell of chocolate, popcorn, and browned dough
Blends with oil from ride's engine in hot wind's blow;
Jumbo burger melts on the tongue bathed by Coke,
While the air is mixed with words of grease and smoke.

Young ones in a dreamlike world within nighttide
Savor the spot where pain pauses and woes hide.

Shopping

I wore my new shoes to the store.
They fit but they hurt.
I love how the laces come undone and trip me.
I love the chicken salad sandwich I get at the deli.
I love the notebook I write my list of groceries in.
Waiting in line to check out.
The thing about lines is, no matter how long they are, you can’t die.
Or you will lose your turn.
Dinging and beeping sounds.
We pretend it’s ok.
I hope the store doesn’t lock me inside of it.
Maybe I should have bought the cream cheese…
It was on sale.
Nothing will ever be ok again.
I almost tripped.
I dropped my grocery list.
Nothing will ever be ok again.

Ring

I rested my eyes and I heard a bell ringing
I wondered what this afternoon might be bringing
I gathered my wits and peered out through the blind
Frankly, intrigued to know what I might find

There’s children stood there and they look so unruly 
I sense that they’ve all got it in for yours truly
I think to myself with a shortage of mirth
The lot of them should have been throttled at birth

That bell is still ringing, it’s donging and dinging
I’ve got a sore head and my eardrums are stinging
And would you believe that those kids are now squealing
You’re likely to find me soon… clung to the ceiling

Will somebody please silence that flaming bell
I so want a crossbow like William Tell 
I feel myself shaken and then shaken faster
Then… “Lunch time is over; please wake up, Headmaster.”

Sounds of the Season

Bells ringing, children singing
Sounds of the season’s joys
Cash registers are dinging
Bells ringing, children singing.
Lovers are blinging; Santa’s bringing
Presents for little girls and boys
Bells ringing, children singing
Sounds of the season’s joys. 

Written December 1, 2022

Hunting Evil Dragons

In medieval times, peasants began to weep
when beneath the castle, in a stronghold deep,
flames from mouths of dragons began to sweep
over the realm, tired of dinging too long on sheep. 

They took to wing, soaring with swift speed
Searching for tastier meals upon which to feed.
"South" screamed Blathazor, the eldest decreed!
The others obeyed him. Glad they had been freed! 

Weeks passed and humans lay dead.
Others tried hiding, living life with dread
but the gluttonous dragons were all well-fed
feasting on villagers with rampant bloodshed. 

They gutted the land of cattle and deer.
Each day another dragon seemed to appear.
Those who remained alive were terrified with fear.
Word of the demon dragons had spread far and near. 

What brave hero would be found so adept
to kill the evil dragons in the cave as they slept?
A wizard flew down on his magic dragon, Culdecept.
whose flaming power destroyed them on his intercept.


October 20, 2022
Painting Prompted Contest sponsored by Lisa YY
Written to coincide with painting #4 in 157 words.

When the Cannas Droop

This time of the year
when the cannas sadly droop,
Ma is saving kitchen scraps
from recent repasts
for a hearty winter soup,
and decorations go up.

Too early I think
with the Christmas ornaments
for commercial purposes
slighting Halloween
and Thanksgiving gatherings.
I shall complain bitterly.

No one will listen!
Some say I am Mister Scrooge
I can stand only so much
happiness and joy,
cash registers dinging loud
facing the mad shopping crowds.

Each year it gets worse
when the cannas sadly droop,
and Ma saves scraps for the soup
decorating starts,
and I complain bitterly
but no one listens or cares.

Written September 12, 2022

A Joyful Life

Amazing! A joyful life
          Bestowing special blessings,
                  Eschews strife,
                         Keeps xylophones 
               Very quietly dinging
   In my ears.

FIRST PLACE WINNER
Strand Poetry Contest
January 26, 2022
written November 2, 2021

A Sleepless Night

Darkness of the night extending
Countless stars far away
Bundles of worry overlapping
Waves of anxiety tangling
A wall clock dinging
The worms bustle and rustle
To join me 
In a lonely and sleepless night

The World Has Turned Angry

The world has turned angry.
Families have been replaced with technology.
Swiping and dinging has replaced listening and learning.

Drivers are enraged; impatient, unkind.
They plow over each other, like angry puppies
Because they must wait their turn.

Instant gratification has become the go-to now.
We want it immediately – information, food, attention.
The world has turned angry. The families are gone.

Technology has replaced love and kindness.
People spend more time in cars driving frantically
Than they spend in homes.

No one is listening to our children.
They sit in front of a tablet poking buttons
Wishing someone cared.
The world is sad.

Snow Day

snow day has now dawned
time for my boots hats and gloves
inner child smiles wide

energy revived
gift of an entire day
mouth cracks from grinning

shrieking at tv
doing kitchen cartwheels
call up all my friends

texts on high alert
wild emojis everywhere
pinging and dinging

running to the hill
screaming with crazy laughter 
slipping and sliding

all my friends are here
even those who call in sick
other school days

go home with pink cheeks
shivering inside mittens 
dragging sled behind 

hoping tomorrow
will be a chain of snow days
happy exhausted

Sitting On the Porch

Sitting on the porch
Soaking up rays of the warm sun
Feeling clearly optimistic

Chimes gently dinging 
Acknowledging their role
In today’s beautiful weather

Robins and orioles still and silent
Nothing obvious flying 
A sense of safety

February softness
Prelude to spring
Roosters crowing

My striped pajamas 
Enveloping me warmly
Bare feet twitching

Pen travels across notebook
Thoughts are moving leisurely
Unhurried and fearless

Poetry gentles my spirit
Bringing hope forward
As sunshine shares her love

My Phone Dings For No Reason

My phone dings for no reason.
I am not playing video games.
I am not trying to speak to a friend.

I am sitting in the living room
And I hear my phone dinging in the kitchen.
I pick it up and stare at it.

There are no alerts.
No messages.
No indicators at all.

I leave it in the kitchen
And it happens again and again
No rhyme or reason to it.

The new phones
have their own personality
their own mood, and their own secretive magical ways.

Silver Bells

silver bells ringing
holly bright among the pine
merrily dinging
bringing Christmas cheer to all –
scent of the outdoors

tint-tinging clapping
etheric among the greens
happy holiday
they sing joyfully aloud –
angelic voices

Oh Grandma

Phones are dinging. Pinging. Singing.
Different melodies, some loud, most proud.
Skinny girls are walking around, not eating lunch.
Maybe they have not eaten lunch for months.
They are all taller than I am, probably thirteen or fourteen.

It is a preteen clothing store, and I am with my granddaughter
She is trying on swimming suits, over my protests.
I said “Your mom does not want me to let you buy a bikini.”
“Oh, Grandma!” she said, and laughed at my old-fashioned ways.

She ended up buying two of them; they both fit in a sack big enough
For a pair of salt and pepper shakers.
We are shopping for her birthday.
She will be fourteen on Friday.

• Short Dinging Poems
• Famous Dinging Poems
• Best Dinging Poems
• Read Dinging Poems
• Long Dinging Poems
• Dinging Quotes