Short Tings Poems
Short Tings Poems. Below are examples of the most popular short poems about Tings by PoetrySoup poets. Search short poems about Tings by length and keyword.
for the call
phone on the wall
if am in bed
it by my head
and it tings and ring
thats the key
no matter where you are
here or far feel free
to FAX ME
Kids blowing soap bubbles
Float they lazily on winds
Tosed by winds less cares
Cares tossed on the sides
Emotions hover air free as
Why do carry laden hearts
Kids blow soap laden tings
The cares are tossed aside
sparks stray to my soul
music-smile till passions cry
what if boredom's creep stalks us?
life stages dangled
lively talk tings like wind chimes
restored canvas tinted love
written July 16/21
For Brian Strand
Your Pick Contest
Even so, I know the
Words are hollow and,
Tings like the tumors,
I was still going to say, CRACKERBOOM!
Perhaps, now that we've sapped the guardsmen,
We may take visit to the house owner.
We can now subdue the court,
And sack the principal as well.
CRAC..KER...BOOM!!!
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!
One, two, three
He starts it off
A phalanx of bells starts
Rings from posts on a horse-shoe set of tables
Big heavy dongs from one of the flanks
Little light tings from the other
Medium dings from the middle
Exclusive pings when it happens
Dings like falling glass on impact
Madness orchestrated
Chaotic music with perfect control
A river of tune created
dwellings of myriad ragtag!
over the fluid moors I salute you
not hoping to see you again
till treasure of divine tings and syllables
greets the new dawn of calming noise
in shadowy slumber we remain
vaporizing as trees fall down
endlessly and expressly
averting a salvation
down the spiral of empty skulls
anarchist moods and petty pains
man is a silly thing made of flesh
not giving a damn in this mess
There's something that I'm looking for,
a special type of place.
An island to call our home,
where my hands can hold your face
without having to hide
what this love means to us.
No worries of others knowing
and making some type of fuss,
where we walk out in the open,
your hand within mine.
Where I can say I love you
any place and any time.
Is it a place or a time?
Why does it seem so far away?
I often pray to God that I wake up
and find the time is today.
Lovesi tings