Long Pings Poems
Long Pings Poems. Below are the most popular long Pings by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Pings poems by poem length and keyword.
Whirling irate firework spectacle
Pings stillness with rust erode array
Afflicted heart thrown debri rain affectional
Rapidly spun unkempt sparks spill their firey foray
Jettisoned from adjacent universe
Excited flames offer heat unfathomed
Rage innate kills cold in hungry encompass
Newly secured domain set alight is purely dazzled
Supernova exploding sends elements
Strikes my stagnant galaxy in rays of gamma
Studded with hundred year tenure true limerence
Furnace insistance fuels hot hum of echoed enamour
Amber damp larva gradual arousal
Resistance drips ice melt silent submission
Logic tarnished in star's splendourous encounter
Ignited forever by harshness of flared flame inquisition
Structure remodelled, harmonious
Black hole remaps unique secret binary
Inhibit's last rites scribed by stellar bond solacious
Scars lasered invisible by nova who renamed me Libby
10th November 2020
Written for Contest :
There Is A Star With My Name On It
Sponsor : Silent One
On an Iraqi street
Its all quiet and calm
The way it should be
Without the tyrants palm
Kids are playing
American marines patrol
They don't want to be there
But peace is their goal
A sudden silence
Greets the street
Then all hell breaks loose
Every one falls to their feet
An explosion so powerful
In neighbourhood shake
An all mighty blast
Delivered by mans earthquake
Shrapnel zips
And pings through the air
Voices in scream
Faces in blood run stare
The dust and debris
Drifts all around
As the marines rise
One hears, a crying sound
He follows the cries
For in a doorway lies
A boy of two
In bloodied apply
His small frame
Sodden of red
Lacerations aplenty
On the road to dead
The blanket he clutched
In crimson soak
This soldier, marine
In tear filled choke
He gently lifts
This fragile child
Another innocent casualty
As another war smiles
Sadly, there will be others
Through the months and years
When war will still smile
And ignore all the tears
http://www.thehighlanderspoems.com/war-4.php
The strange caricature reminds me of your odd face,
The twinkling roar clings to your tiny lace.
The way you want to lean on my race,
The sacred passion gives me a new space.
The only path I have seen,
One and only desire you could have been,
One and only proportion you own for the time being,
I am no one else until you see me clearly giving.
The endless life is a paradox of gorgeous wings,
You are no longer out of control for the measured pings.
The unholy genuineness gives me no more rare bliss,
The unknown appetites are the reason for my irregular gist.
It is not common or ordinary anymore,
It is not filled with hate at its core.
It is no longer my salient reason,
No reason can ease my aggressive tension.
Why can I not settle for less?
Why are you not something obvious to bless?
Why don't you know my name until I remind you of the same?
Why can't you see me as nothing more than a dice in this game?
The years are piling up you see
all the days seem the same to me.
Moneys short the bills are high
my health is on a downward slide.
The hairs gone grey and my eyes can see
that my lifetime clocks running out on me.
Take some tablets, gassed in my car
make a noose and just hang around.
I just can't think of a reason to stick around.
And then the phone rings,and rings again
it's the girl I love shes ringing me.
She makes a joke and raises a smile
and sets a date for us to hang out a while.
The email pings my mates asking me to go jet away.
The suns shining bright and a stray ray of light
catches a picture hanging on the wall
of those I hold within my heart.
You know, I think i'll stay one more day
and see what comes my way
well it is a brand new day.
My inbox’s a mess, who cares though?
Too many emails, I’m just tryna let go.
"Read this, reply now," but nah, not today,
I’ll get to it later—ain’t no other way.
Every time I open, it's just more spam,
“Unsubscribe,” I swear, I don’t give a damn.
Work emails, bills, “Please check this link”
But honestly, I’d rather just sit and think.
It’s the 21st century, like who’s got time?
Constant pings, notifications all the time.
But guess what? I’m living my life,
Emails? Yeah, they’re just adding to the strife.
I scroll for a second, then close it all,
Hit “Mark as read,” I don’t care at all.
Tomorrow maybe, or next week—who knows?
But for now, I’m chillin', letting that stuff go.
So forget the inbox, forget the stress,
I’m gonna vibe, not deal with the mess.
I’m young, I’m free, I don’t need that weight,
I’ll check my emails—maybe... like, next date.
Though the necks
sighting of Ichabod Crane
humungous horror
helplessly harassing,
hellish hyena howling,
hideously hounding,
headless Halloween
hair raising happening,
regarding haunting
horseman spectre,
not due to arrive
(in gremlin, golem, and
goblin crawling theaters
everywhere in outer limits
of twilight zone),
come October thirty first
two thousand, and nineteen
divination trap
pings can never
be implemented overly
soon - to satiate subhuman
scary sightings,
sans mine ineluctable
supernatural drive
biz ease, this (gopher broke,
phantasmagoric over seer
grown wunderkind,
passionately rousing spooks,
where this droning
necromancer named
Matthew Scott Harris),
asper undertaking
luckless ghostly endeavors
also oft times finds
meat hoo experiencing
aborted, cancelled and retried
aim mush carriage
(i.e. thwarted, ejected,
and clobbered miscarriage)
off base when out fielding
paranormal activities,
qua catcher catch can
pseudo boxing
exaggerated shadows
striking mine attenuated,
elongated, and invoked
Hades monstrous silhouettes,
viz jugular vein bleeding
(heart liberal)
burnt umber umbra
pitching one dimensional
brokered, bricked,
and bracketed
wall size grotesqueries
detailing bloodless battles
silently creaking within republic
of my imagination.
He bumbled round the front nine
Scrambling by the high bramble
Scum fumbled the perfect lie
After nipping his car trunk’s handle
With thwaps and pings and whammy’s
His blood turned transfusion hue
He blames his hooks on “bangin trannys”
The joke fell flat to the cart gal, regardless of cue
Crickets echo in daytime thicket
Uncle Scum sweat through his woolen plaid
He sniffed and swung, missing the ticket
Another failure at the emerald launchpd
His friends left after he swang too haphazard
But no, good Uncle Scum always has the last reply
“If Daly can do it then so can I!
Now excuse me while I swim in the water hazard!”
He swam and he floated all drunkenly bloated
But didnt note the flock of geese
all ruffled and slighted
Now Uncle Scum was banned, as he says “scapegoated”
All because the groundskeeper kept the geese around
“The ones on hole eight that are more
fight than flight”
a roundel
One small part of his world of kitschy things,
Jordan's unique house on a rock unfurls
a red merry-go-round mid angels’ wings -
one small part of his world.
Chandelier lights, some twenty-thousand, swirl,
while a mechanical orchestra pings.
Two hundred sixty myriad beasts twirl
but nary a single horse rides the rings.
Stand back a little, put your mind awhirl,
the world's largest indoor carousel brings
one small part of his world.
***
for images of this Carousel google "House on the Rock, Carousel"
it will be worth your time.
won first place in nette onclaud's Carousel in Roundel, August 19, 2013
written August 12, 2013
Since I saw you,
I've had this hope live in me.
That everything that isn't needed be gone.
The details of sales papers, shopping carts.
The ease of temptation.
Standing still.
To fill my cart full of things I don't need.
Coffee rings, free samples.
The debris of reality.
Strings and paper slings around baked goods.
Shopping around facedown.
Pushing the cart row after row.
The things on sale.
The pings of the register.
Splints that aren't necessarily the object we've come face to face with.
Jamaican rum.
Our fingerprints used in vain
The residue from coffee pots and things we've touched.
Bottled, sealed tight.
Fresh water springs.
Still we pursue.
I pursue.
Your carefree sensibility.
I've walked every row in search.
Where have you gone,
Withdrawn
Blue Jays on a branch practicing what they sing
Lions roaming the safari proudly acting like a king
Leaves falling down, back and forth they gently swing
Listen it is Mother Nature that you are now hearing
Winter melts away and rain washed into the Spring
Two squirrels run up a tree for a little fun-time fling
The wind whips in the canyons, off the hills it pings
This beauty of our world is uncomparable to anything
Within the darkest night glowing eyes are always peering
With sounds that have their own special sort of ring
The Worlds way up high back and forth the stars they sling
So many unanswered questions the Heavens always bring
The falcon in the sky up and down it flaps each wing
Searching the field below for it's days first offering
Even sometimes the act of a kill is still a wondeful thing
So grateful to be blessed of something so awe inspiring
Written for Monorhyme Poetry Contest 05/25/18
Theme: Nature Hosted by:Shadow Hamilton