Long Ping Poems

Long Ping Poems. Below are the most popular long Ping by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Ping poems by poem length and keyword.


Adieu and Your Note

adieu, adieu
hiding eyes I said-
“this is not new”

“feel fair in welfare
don’t fear o’ dear”

but, I come back in me
find around appalling empty

summer has gone
rainy has gone
autumn has gone
in winter I’m alone

withered leaf 
your love lives
going with west wind
snow tears I find

door and window
closed I’m in jail
snow stormy night
does not give me bail 

beside hearth heart is burning
remember your everything
and I find a note which ping-
“ebb and tide everywhere
those who knows both these far
he can enjoy all through pleasure” 



-January 14, 2019 Chattogram


Premium Member Diamond In the Rough

Its the final day
At the US Masters
This Highlander
Enjoying new pastures
 
Recently turned pro
Leader-board he tops
As he partners Tiger
Playing brilliant shots
 
Eagle, birdie
Birdie, par
With play like this
He's sure to go far
 
Neck and neck 
On the seventeenth
This Highlander 
Needs to be seen
 
Par 4, 
440 yards
He hits a screamer
Crowd applauds
 
Tiger matches
They both hit the green
Both down in three
Birdies mean
 
The eighteenth
Green Jacket beckons
Who will win it
Tiger i reckon
 
What a drive 
By Tiger woods
Down the middle
As professionals should
 
The Highlander, lovely swing
Ball flying, hear that ping
Cross wind carries, fairway missed
The crowd in awe, Tiger bliss
 
Tiger excels, gets down in three
One inch form the hole, a gimme
The Highlander, iron picked
Sweet shot, hit so slick
 
See it rise, towards its goal
On to the green towards the hole
Undulations, impede it none
As it drops in, under the Georgia sun
 
The Highlander, awaits the crowd
Nano second, applause out loud
This newly pro, who found it tough
Newly named
Diamond in the Rough


My entry to Nathans " Diamond in the Rough " contest.
                            Wow 5th place

     http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/sport.php
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member God's Kind of Poetry

O ever changing sky, blue-gray and maudlin
your mood and unsettled ways, meld with mine.
Clouds seem but blemishes upon horizons
as weary as the soot smudged cheeks of urchins.
Bruised in hues at once fresh with pain and longing,
not yet healed by the riper rise of next day’s bloom.

O ever changing sky, the nascent forest’s buds.
Its lashes linger in the purple poignancy of dusk
and whip thy brow with thrashing maple limbs.
Eyeless vault of heaven cry for me, release my plight
erase with thy wonders this tattered visage so forlorn.
The sky of night holds many jewels of delight.

O ever changing sky, clear to crisper shades of sapphire,
ping with shooting stars and glowing diadems of light.
Let lavender blue soften my sorrows for I like Merope* 
need Orion’s might to lift my heartache, to point the way.
May thy constant rebirth give hope which melds with mine
and brings a beauty brighter than your Venus** to the day.



*Merope was Orion’s star crossed lover.
**Venus is the Goddess of Love and the Morning Star
Form: Pastoral

Benevolence Issues Forth Courtesy Mine Eldest Sibling

Thee nonpareil Amelie Beth Harris-McGeehan
blessed honest to dog goodness her person doth bring
never could her brother wish upon NON GMO
(archaeopteryx, buffalo, chicken...) wing,
and genuine prayer anybody more a maze zing.

Many countless years before
our dear mother passed away four
plus eleven earth orbitz ago,
she voluntarily repeated more
times than I can remember "your
older sister possesses altruistic qualities."

The above words enclosed by this bloke
with double quotation marks, okey-doke
not necessarily the way mama spoke,
but yours truly took poetic liberty

without any intention generating impulse to choke
the harmless, nameless, and stateless writer
and literally went bonkers 
while going for Baroque
for recognized virtue that recently woke.

Kinship towards angelic, fantastic, pacific anchor
understandable why her spouse did hanker
during their courtship to pledge his troth
to maneuver metaphorical
hook, line, and sinker as though steadying a tanker.

Innocence and naïveté suffused little boy
occupying body of aging long haired
pencil necked geek without gainful employ
and (and as a shy person without benefit
of powdered milk biscuits)
generally trended solitary
verses masing with hoi polloi,

nevertheless ofttimes relentlessly teased
bully me, I loathed treatment on par
with worthlessness linkedin with discarded toy,
thus gratitude prevails toward eldest sibling
(no matter just thirteen plus months older)
pseudo motherhood she did deploy
to ward off aggressive monsters.

I reckon eyes appreciation
matured into present thankful attitude,
now with mooch time to ponder and brood
how earlier in my life behavior childish and crude
methought meself as hotshot dude,

yet these days, I couch sincerity writing
one or another poetic endeavor
knitting words analogous to composing an etude
contemplative, intuitive, and ruminative mental food

for thought hoop ping to convey 
honest to goodness gratitude
communicating reasonable rhyming message
(if yee be downcast dearly beloved sister)
delivering uplifting, kickstarting exalting mood.
Form: Rhyme

The Balls: A Parody of Poe's the Bells

I
Hear the bouncing of the balls--
Basketballs!
What a sound of merriment they cause when each ball falls!
How they echo, echo, echo,
Inside the gymnasium walls,
Arriving at a crescendo
While the spectators shout “Bravo!”
Drowning the referee’s calls;
And the players start
To make their last dart
Amidst the reverberation ricocheting off the stalls
From the balls, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
From the bouncing and the dribbling of the balls.

II
Hear the ticking of the balls,
Ping-pong balls!
What a soft and easy sound comes from their bounce and rolls!
In the crowded room that’s bright
How they fill it with delight!
Like the ticking of a clock,
Steady but fast,
Or the picking of a lock,
What tune they make with their ceaseless tick-tock,
Until at last--
Oh, what a miss that appalls
The audience that has remained speechless in the halls
How it falls!
How it scrolls!
And the erring player rolls
His fists at his own pitfalls
By the swinging and his missing
To hit the balls, balls, balls
The balls, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
To hit the light and small and saffron ping-pong balls!

III
Hear the loud thud of the balls--
Volleyballs!
What feeling of suspense is caused by their great falls!
Across the nets stretched tight
How they gracefully take flight!
The watchers anticipating,
Who would win they keep waiting,
Breathlessly.
Until the umpire from his platform blows a long shrill whistle,
And the balls drop on the ground like useless heads of missile.
Then tempers start to bristle
In the air there is a rustle
From both player and spectator
To win the set or never
Hold the trophy covetously.
Oh, the balls, balls, balls--
"Pick them up!" the umpire bawls.
Once again
The balls are hit, tossed, and passed
And the game goes on full blast
While the players on each side dare not complain
Yet the audience fully knows
By the spiking
And the digging
How the game would sooner close.
Who would be covered in palls
Suffer beating,
‘Cause of losing,
And forced to receive catcalls
For dismally failing to score and keep afloat the balls,
The volleyballs--
The volleyballs, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
In the scrambling and the spiking of the balls!

March 18, 2023
Form: Rhyme


Four Letters Spelling Blah

Four Letters Spelling Blah...

generally define mine anatomical phooey zook
corporeal status, essentially feeling like gook,
not my usual babbling brook
self, thus finds yours truly whooshing, he
could wave a magic wand (all thee
while exjaculating abra
cud dab bra, or whatever

     applicable spell -
     spot on - to re:),
vivify mine pathetic sluggishness,
     hashtagged with nauseous
     tsunami waves, and inxs,
     where these nada
     so lovely brittle bones,
     and atrophied muscles free

quint times this day
     feel robbed of lee
ping lemurs (yule
grant me hyperbolic
indulgence) spirited energy
versus experiencing hypersensitivity,
     which head toot
     hoe soreness analogous

     (ache and burn'n ken to
     contracting the Amish Flu),
     where this jumpy,
     manicky, persnickety, rickety,
     and totally tubular ancient
tomb mess scent body
finds ordinarily endeavoring
scribe this moment tub bee,

a little horse and bug gee
(in other words), aye
     experience over sizeable
(bare ten able) boots
of dizz zee
ness (as if pitched to
and fro on rough sea),
where webbed venting

     helps this wordsmith
to sum men strength
     tube (boo hoo)
himself from bing nsync
     king mode, sans (10,000
     leagues...in Dave vee
Jones locker) as a dee
pull lore hubble skidrow re

sid divest news junk kee -
do dilling with zero hap pee
go luck key
ne'er do well bummer, I...he
barely exhibits signs 
     of life breathe
thing inaudibly inhaling
and exhaling wei

zing all the while
with pronounced je
nais sais quois nasality
emitted racking prithee
moren slight lee
jarring with achy breaky tree
men dose skeletal pain,
thus fuhr re hiss lee,

heavily relying on wing,
and broken prayer hope fool lee
fully helping this
old codger (yepper me)
do magical wonders to re: captcha
lapsed la pas suh zoo lee
infusing this corporeal being i.e.
once again me
with spirited resurgence.
Form: Bio

3 Blind mices

Firstly this child got close enough to know they were blind
Two he’s chasing mice(just like his hero Ed)
I mean the signs are there
Look at Mary
Let her play in the fields
and she returns singing of sunflowers
What was that one last week
Rember putting birds in a pie
Personally I would get him tested
Put safety locks on all your knives
Name me a serial killer who doesn’t know twinkle twinkle
Let’s create something that we can hang directly above our defenceless child face
And we will call it something fun…mobile
Yeah let’s make it move
Could a baby paint a house…
Deep ends
How hard I through this work
No serial killers were harmed or babies
What was Mary the opposite of
Who the  fills their garden with shells to make it.
Checklist 1.Earth
                 2. Manure
                 3. Where did all these maid come from
Is a sheep made of paper a tisewe
We
A
L
L

If you just sign your family name just on the line marked
And his first name on the line after
and you quite sure about this mr Dumpty
No takeies backies
Not an egg
So what was so special about this person
That an army was sent to fix him
Question 9. Why did he break into pieces
So basically he died
and we are warning our children about height
This guy sat on wall
Fell somehow broke into pieces
And a mad king sent his troops
to glue the eviserate together doesn’t have the same ring two to or too
You choooose
Sorrry some letttterss have bean escape ping
Form myy otter wrks
Knight.

Out Of The Blue



           Saturn's bubble gum rings
Pink and blue
Palladium, magnetism
          Tractor beams moon

Stark reality edges out the sky
Dipped into the milky way
Heavenly cookie
Message nigh

Ping scalar radar bizarre
Rogue star rogue star !
Moon is set a-fire !
Descending like burning mountain
Drones fill the air
Wormwood incense fouls the Waters
They have come in ritual
To sacrifice Sons and Daughters
Niburu !
CERN has set up their Altar
While
Everything
Changes in the Cosmic Tide,
as Dimensions shift and Spirits no longer hide their abodes, unhinged
to Order's abide
art
Form: Rhyme

Genesis of Thoughts

Narrow and shallow shining laser focus 
     into chasm while teetering on brink
akin to scurrying thru microcosmic burrow 
     of microscopic Manhattan skyscrapers 
     wink'n nod and blink,

this ace of spades heart (diamond 
     in the rough) poet digs club billy shallow 
     sometimes forced to spelunk 
     thru crawl space chink
     
hunting down gamesome dodging 
     catlike whim elusively outpaced,
yet webbed, whorled wide net 
     nonetheless doth cap cha alive 
     agile adept idealized rat fink,

which unseen quite quiet mouse notion 
     gives hardy fellow run for his money, 
     within scrunched brow mental chase
possibly connected to a preceding pondering 
or appearing randomly 
     viz, non-sequitur conscious kink

     said quarry i.e. whimsical thoughts   
frequently vanish without a trace
     quick as mental cogs and wheels 
     generate snapchatting, riveting, twittering link

process allowing, enabling, and providing 
     albeit easily distracting ability 
     to grasp awesome zinging, lightening, 
     fleeting brainstorm within windswept
     mind space *****sapiens to think
    
shimmering insight cognizant ability 
     likening ode on Grecian urn vase
frieze depicting elusive capture 
     thought process lifespan shorter than a wink

via third eye blind of 
     comfortably numb beatle browed face
to locate source giving rise 
    king inducing minor frustration at inability 
     to nab (albeit painlessly) shimmering zinc

like inception, deception, taking wing
within fifty plus shades swing
and conception of consciousness stir ring
nanobyte size quisling

gray matter housing chromosomal ping 
pong pin balling genes summons King
kong of Leon intrigue, jing
gull ling, where disparate 

     ideas linkedin fling
pollinated neurological network ebbing
and flowing, sans during
writerly blitzkrieg thread ding 
provocative point of pinterest bing

proclimation emancipation pensive predilection
to contrive a means and ways 
to corral mischievous mental minions
who seem to vanish without a trace  

holographic after effect or image evoked
from virtual reality, the latest modality 
to pair dime a dozen stray cats re:
untamed cerebral creatures tempting 
contemplation to occupy hours.

The Former Double Life of Matthew Scott Harris

The (former) Double Life Of Matthew Scott Harris

Dove finch he following iniquitous
     licentious, lecherous longing
     extinguished quite
some years ago,
     when eldest daughter
     stopped being polite
actually she ceased - might
tee angry talking heads

     to this papa for months, whose 
     only asks prays foe praise,
     and who doth newt
     wish to ignite
animosity from any beloved fan,
     whose critical judgement
     toward my errant friskiness,
     aye snuffed out light

and accepts dues
     against prickly don'ts,
     and opted to risk broad
     casting general height
full actions, which attestation
     spiritedly burst asunder
     blitzing Lenovo external
     screen within minutes bite

mutt hung lest
     censorious replies pillory
     this sensitive chap
     I merely uncorked
     irrepressible facet
     (asian iron maiden
     strangle choke hold)
     forced these words

     to help give hollow explain
nations of this nada
     so shiny white knight
philanderer (juiced now cum
     ming clean) by night just
     an oon din 
     aery in Das scribe
     bubble during -

     the day until...zee...
wife found me absent - yee
(ping, and sowing, thee
rather desiccated oats)
     celibacy playing tree
men dose impetus tryst,
     viz midlife crisis spree
from sleeping quarters re:

at 724 West Rail
     road Avenue, pre
planned within
     the basement nee
tricked out as cellar quasi
     pent house suite for me
comfortable sleep
     ping accommodations,

     pleasing this wander
     lusting NON GMO lee
burr teen, sans mat,
     (and also Scottish Matt)
     tress atop boxspring key
ping stockpiles of prurient frilly
     laced female lingerie, je
nais se quois, no matter

     escapade usual lee
took place in pitch black dark
     accouterments singularly, solely,
     and strictly necessitated,
     arousing, coaxing, and
     exciting libido asper
     one barenaked lady for
     yours truly, whereat

     aye do blatantly 
     confess flute'n glute'n guilt free
     to concocting, hat
     ching, and orchestrating
     profligate secrete

     rendezvous aspirations
     toward sordid man of la
     cherry munch ching Lothario
     (a combination Casanova,
     Don Juan) wannabe.
Form: Narrative

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