Pings Poems | Examples

the hopper of grasses

He zings through tall grasses and lands on my knee
I try my best to pull this sticky legged insect off me
He chortles and chuckles and pings off in the wind.
This hopper of grasses surely has annoyed and sinned.

Another one of these pests zings onto my shirt.
Giving me the willies, I scream at my cousin Bert
Get the lightening bug jar, let’s catch this foul creature
This grasshopper gives me a wink; he’s the double feature

Why are they so sticky? They are as tricky as glue.
And why, Bert, do these creepers never land on old you?
I guess I’m not as sweet, he says, with a wide smile.
Another one lands on me, says “Hi! Just call me Lyle!”

Impersonal Personal

How many hearts will melt
from message, AI wrote
that pings upon a phone;
as many did who felt
soft kiss on gentle throat
that sighed a yielding moan?

Old Barn Seen from a Speeding Car

The Chevy speeds by
eyesight pings it,
a reflexive vision
momentarily catches itself
looking back.

The barn is vacant, not empty,
its eyes have been locked open,
it bathes in sparrow and bat time.

Now hollow lids capture, snatch at
a headlong flight of vision.

A snap of fleeting attention
has stabled a glance in a timeless stall
where dust hangs
in a slant of suspended light.

Road barn and car are frozen
as one symbiotic after-image,
until all disappear into each other.

Then without pause or passage
horizons are released,
distance and perspective amended,
as the tremor of a splintered
looking glass
fades behind racing wheels.

Paradoxes of Desire

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?

breeze

northerly breeze whips
giant oak loses acorns ....
loud pings disturb sleep

Everybody Stop!

If we could teach the world, one thing
it should not be, the price of string
the microwave and why it pings
the endless list, of English kings
the dynasty, of Chinese Ming
the mystery, of golden rings
the history, of Western Swing

No
absolutely none of these things
with all the distraction they would bring
if we could teach the world one thing
we need everybody to stop
we need everyone to listen and look
to hear the little bird that sings
and watch it flap its tiny wings

If we could teach the world one thing
we'll show those people how to dream
above the crazy sounds and scenes
to find all the hope and all the joy 
that our imagination just might bring

If we could teach the world one thing
maybe somehow we could learn
the power of ideas, the power of ideals
with courage, decency, justice and truth
from all of those who walked before 
Dorchester Labourers, Doctor King
women who did amazing things
in science, politics, literature and more
if we could teach the world one thing.

Does the Noise in my Head Bother You?

Tinnitis is annoying, with little tings
going off in my ears, and crackles and rings.
With this noise in my head
I dread going to bed,
This affliction's such a terrible thing.

I often go for days without any pings
inside of my head, no hisses or dings;
but when they occur
I can't relax, life's a blur;
If there's ever a cure, I will sing!

Taking a Break

The dishes can wait, they have waited before,
All my work problems, I’ll simply ignore.
The email pings call, they too can wait,
For I'm on my break, to procrastinate.

I’ll slouch in the couch, maybe stare at the sky,
Watch clouds drift by, as day's cares pass by.
My brain is in neutral, my worries on pause,
I’m doing my best to never show cause.

With coffee in hand, I’ll stare at the wall,
Pretending I’m thinking deeply, pondering on it all.
The world can wait, it won’t implode,
While I forsake my workaholic mode.

Stuff the to-do list? Do nothing at all, that's the go!
The churning of tasks is set to real, real slow.
A nap sounds good! Perhaps a little snooze!
I’ll wake refreshed, with nothing more to lose.

So I'm clocked off for now, I'm just taking five.
If you call me in, with can't-wait excuse, to contrive
My break will become ten, even twenty-five I'll yen.
Perhaps I'll take the whole day off, once and over again.

So here I sit, without a care,
Switched-off in my comfy chair.
Learning the art of taking a break
Goodness gracious! Am I still awake?

The Beauty of Community

"The Beauty Of Community"
(written by Michelle Lynn LeBlanc  11/20/23)

When people come together
It's such a beautiful thing
There's something healing about it
For it brings a peace within

How often do we get caught up
Simply socializing online
When what we really need on the inside
Is coming together for quality time

There's a Beauty In Community
Now so often left unseen
We must get back to the basics
For socialization is in our genes

Healing comes from connection
Strength comes in the bonds we share
Opening our minds with one another
For a personal touch shows we care

Choosing to let down the walls
And learning to trust again
Cannot be found behind our screens
Which is such as popular trend

Healing is not just in our daydreams
Or in our visions of the night
It's in our daily routines
What we choose at the dawn of sunlight

The Beauty Of Community
It's such a remarkable thing
The in-person touch of connection
Far outweighs the dings and pings

So let's get out there and reconnect
It's what we were born to do
Giving hugs and sharing smiles
This is where we'll find our breakthrough!

No Sunset In the Rain

It’s quarter after six, Friday evening. He  thought with a smile, besides the rain, everything is looking great. Table set beautifully just for two. Dinner looks delicious and minutes away to be served. 

Annoyingly he hears his cellphone pings. 
Seeing the name of the sender, he smiles and swipes to read it. Message read, RAIN CHECK, NO SUNSET IN THE RAIN. Instantly the smile fade and his heart sank.

He can hear the rain beating down on the roof, but too numb to move. Dinner is now left untouched. Disappointment weighs him down, yet again. 

Alone again and much to ponder.
What is really us? Life doesn’t wait for no one. The rain falls whether you like it or not, sunset or not. The daily excuses are worn off. 

At last, he sends her a reply that says, RAIN CHECK DENIED, I don’t need this anymore than you do. We are two different souls, we don’t speak the same language of love. Goodbye! 

He packs his bags and drives away in the 
NO SUNSET IN THE RAIN. 



Akkina 
8/25/23

Old Barnes Glimpsed From a Speeding Car

The corner of my eye notes it
as my car speeds by,
eyesight pings it
momentarily, an image
looks back.

The outbuilding is vacant,
bathed in a sparrow and bat time
that flutters inside its hollow shell.

Barn ambience
has kidnapped my attention
it has stabled my eyes in a timeless stall
where horse tails hang suspended
from broken timepieces
not clocks, just pieces of time
that,
like dust in sunlight
muster in the air
to mime a car and a glance
rubbernecking back.

Nightmare K9

distant wolves sniff at the winds,
sense what you do not.
your death hums in the air!
pings run through your heart
to raise a berm of hair!
Baskerville hounds now shift
from lope to lunge. 
their thirst for blood has come!
rapacious tongues make clear
your death is in their mouths!

Whatever Whatever Whatever

Whatever turns your crank
Whatever tickles your pickle
Whatever dunks your donut
Whatever waxes your dolphin
Whatever buffs your buddha
Whatever pops your cork
Whatever pets your monkey
Whatever frosts your cookies
Whatever spills your pills
Whatever trips your trigger
Whatever humps your camel
Whatever melts your chocolate
Whatever peels your onion
Whatever chafes your carrot
Whatever flops your mop
Whatever rocks your socks
Whatever teeters your totter
Whatever milks your goat
Whatever pings your pong
Whatever peels your banana
Whatever blows your nozzle
Whatever tips your canoe
Whatever flicks your switch
Whatever zips your zipper
Whatever blows your stack
Whatever... whatever... whatever!

The Harpist

Delicate hands sweep over the strings
Stirring chords and melodies meet,
The harpist gently plunks and pings
Producing music soft and sweet.
She does not smile, concentrating
On the nuances of each crescendo,
Tenor of the performance elevating
Each measure a startling innuendo.
The climax brings a stirring rush
Exhilarating orchestral responses
As over the audience falls a hush
The music its hearers ensconces. 

Written July 16, 2022

Daylit Moon

The distant pings of a windchime
Dance around my head like fairies

My lungs fill with the warm breeze
But my eyes are distracted
By a white stamp against the blue sky

Everything I've learned as a child
Whispers that this is wrong
Why is it so beautiful?

I drink in the sight of it
Of her, of me?
Its very being changed by the summer

Showing its face while the sun shines on
In defiance of expectations,
Defiance of rules

Her blemished skin glaringly contrasts
The smooth blue of the sky

Unashamed

"I am here", it calls to me

My eyes sting as I whisper
"I am too"
My words carried off by the wind

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