Used as kites, these rigid stable aeroplanes are superior to the very best cellular kites I can make; they are lighter, pull harder per square foot, attain a greater angle of elevation, and have fewer parts.
quote by Lawrence Hargrave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Papper Birds
Kites ate
Flying...
Birds are flying...
No different
For birds
With kites...
Kites also
Paper birds...!
Birds also
Breathing kites...?
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Meanwhile
outside the children fly their kites
meanwhile
we stand here by the side of the railings
meeting the
winds of change
tell me, what is it? what is it really?
will this be forever?
will this be the last of what we can
give?
will this be
simply kites?
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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14th January
! 4th January is called here as Uttrayan
Tilting of Sun from South to Uttar (North)
The position of sun will alter
The days from now onwards will be longer
Sky will be full of kites
The slogans will be chanted with full religious rites
Whole population will be on roof top
The kites will be flying non stop
Billions of rupees will be spent on kites
Many birds will loose their lives
The loss of human lives too from free fall
Religious fever with all advices to receive unheeded call
It has witnessed age long tradition
Old or young take part without any reservation
Festival of great fervor with message and joy
Open for all irrespective of anything to participate and enjoy
Not in many parts but in some of the Indian parts it is known
The Chinese are believed to be originator with tradition to own
The favorable wind bring competition to the climax
Complete holiday to spend the day with joy and relax
The climate change is linked with the festival
The spring also coincides with its arrival
The winter may be losing its grip from here on
The hard climate may soon be forgotten or gone
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Kiteflier
And as I heave these strings
closer into my stagnancy
the more they break away
and set off farther from
my cold and distant musing
I watched their ponderous flight
as I mar my fingers in trying
to hold their vestiges together
but all is sullen into futility
As they drive past the clouds -
leave the fringes of my horizon
and unyeild to all my veerings
I am enthused to take flight
and let go of all reveries
But now that I lost them,
these mangled hand is empty
I am taxxed with derision
and blame is upon these fear
enshrouding my entity
When the kiteflier managed
to make all his kites fly
to the point of unfettering them
that he lost all his kites,
then who remains of him?
and when can he break the strings
that kept him tethered to the grounds?
poem by Norman Santos
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Bitter Chocolate
The last dropp of sleep
Slurped by the wily night
I flew kites against
The erratic insomniac air
They once lifted me up
And equally pulled me down
Just the thread in my hands
Didn't really make me a kite-flyer!
The kites flew at their will
Somersaulting like
The best of gymnasts
performing on the darkest sky
Colourful dots losing their colour
On the darkest skies
Winds at their wits
Me, a non-entity!
I, like a dry river-bed
Fail to squeeze out
Even a single dropp
To quench my thirst for sleep!
'Bitter Chocolate'
More bitter on my tongue
Muffled voices of the abused
Kicked one another violently
Against my invisible walls...
poem by Indira Babbellapati
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The higher the artist, the fewer the gestures. The fewer the tools, the greater the imagination. The greater the will, the greater the secret failure.
Butterflies And Kites...Goodnight
Balloons on strings,
Sailing, bouncing June
Into July kites skimming
Tails like afternoon
Mosquito hawks on quiet
Water. There! The butterfly
Making its rounds of
Moonflowers' snow petals
Enticing emerald hummingbirds,
Giant moths soundlessly
Fluttering topaz and ruby
Wings. Again! The butterfly
Dips, bobs angel-blue wings.
Balloons, kites, put away
For the night. Hummingbirds,
Butterflies vanish....
There is peace....
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
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It's an immensely competitive business, and I can tell you the older you get, the parts are fewer, and the people who are proven performers are greater.
The World Where You Want Me To Live
the day you met me
you claim it is a beautiful day
blue clouds, cool green trees on the meadows
some mountain mists hanging still like dreams
you ask for my name
and you said you will like me on that beautiful day
you want me flying kites on the wind
i flew kites with colors
you want me to run with you on the soft grass
towards the sea where the breeze plays some games with the locks
of our hair
i obey with a smile and always cater to your wishes and dreams
whatever wherever whenever you feel like going and doing
you ask me to tell stories
i tell you stories that please you: fairylands, prince and princess in the
castles in the clouds, and you really like me, you want me to stay
i cannot.everything are lies.you are a lie. i am a lie.
we live on what pleases, we live in a world without pain.
it is not my world,
i live in the world of pain, this darkness for years, and this
you must know
all these are what please me, this world that you do not imagine
this world that your mind thinks
does not exist
i have long accepted, i am human
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kites rise highest against the wind - not with it.
quote by Winston Churchill
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Walter Simmons
My parents thought that I would be
As great as Edison or greater:
For as a boy I made balloons
And wondrous kites and toys with clocks
And little engines with tracks to run on
And telephones of cans and thread.
I played the cornet and painted pictures,
Modeled in clay and took the part
Of the villain in the "Octoroon."
But then at twenty-one I married
And had to live, and so, to live
I learned the trade of making watches
And kept the jewelry store on the square,
Thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking,—
Not of business, but of the engine
I studied the calculus to build.
And all Spoon River watched and waited
To see it work, but it never worked.
And a few kind souls believed my genius
Was somehow hampered by the store.
It wasn't true. The truth was this:
I didn't have the brains.
poem by Edgar Lee Masters from Spoon River Anthology (1916)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Poet of Legacy
the restless children run to the higher ground as the kites flying to an open sky
under the clouds, clouds which are so eager to shell shock them with a friendly
turbulence, which would make the kites, spin around haywire. the tall grass has covered
most of the old battlefield, which was once witnessed thousands of young lives perished during the World War 2, protecting the nearby port from enemies of the east. my father was one of the localities who fought the war not only for his country but for the ambitious imperialist from the west, as well. most of his comrades were killed during the battle and it was actually the beginning of the new era, a new ruler, under the ‘red sun’.
my father was captured and was sent to the infamous Changi Prison as a prisoner of war.
he survived the ordeals, which many could not have managed. today, i am the legacy, to continue the gallantry of a man who had lived throughout the manmade hell bravely, not with weaponry, but with brain and pens, writing poetry. i’ll be the poet; many poets would envy. i’ll be the poet; many readers would want to be. i’ll be the poet; many women would like to see. God gives lives to my father, to have me be born, and to continue the legacy.
poem by Sulaiman Mohd Yusof
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A certain amount of opposition is a great help to a man. Kites rise against, not with, the wind.
quote by Lewis Mumford
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Kites
On a summer’s day
Some boys are flying their kites
In the vast blue sky.
poem by Asif Andalib
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Strong people are made by opposition like kites that go up against the wind.
quote by Frank Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In Polizzi you'll find water, fog, kites, priests with children, commissions and delegates.
Saturn Return
Easy to poke yourself square in the eye
Harder to like yourself, harder to try
These are espouses
Postcards and neoprene
Roses a dollar a stem
Everyones sleeping or pulling the long haul and
Keys in the cooler its three a.m.
And saturn is beckoning no one
Its off on its own
Its offering up
Late shift can bring in store, burn out the lights
Telescope roof towards the northwestern sky
You pulled the ladder and no ones the wiser
You find your sights and discover
Saturn is orbiting nothing
Hes off on its own
Hes breaking from home
Harder to look yourself square in the eye
Easy to take off
You found the ladder in the pattern of your wrist
Youve seen and youve marked horizons
Mother was difficult, she made you cry
Cover the mirror, look to the sky
You climbed into your rocketship trying
Lift up and hold out your hands
Saturn is orbiting nothing
Hes off on its own
Hes breaking from home
Saturn is orbiting nothing
Hes off on its own
Hes breaking from home
Saturn returns when you chase down, it slows
Throw them into a new gravity
Harder to look yourself square in the eye
Easy to poke yourself, easy as pie
Easy to take off, harder to fly
Harder to wake galileo
song performed by by REM
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Reminder for Myself...
erasing the past
is like burning the pages of your diary
the smoke hurts a while
but
soon you begin to write your own future
another page
another stroke of the pen
that sometimes we admire because it is nicer now
there will always be a difference
until you tear the pages again
crumple them
and let them go
sometimes i think
i need to make paper planes
or perhaps kites
and so i need some strings
some bamboo sticks
for bones
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Life has a force
Kites fly when winds blow.
Sparrows can fly anytime.
Logs floats along the currents.
Fish can swim anyway.
Life is a force
25.10.2004
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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It's becoming increasingly harder and harder; there's no such thing as independent film anymore. There aren't any, they don't exist. In the old days you could go and get a certain amount of the budget with foreign sales, now everybody wants a marketable angle.
quote by Gary Oldman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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