Butterfly kite flight
multi mottled magic marks
signify song sign
haiku by Jonathan Robin (17 March 2012)
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Kite
Come up and be a kite
Beelzebub is aching in my belly-o.
My feet are heavy and Im rooted in my wellios.
And I want to get away and go
From all these mirror windows.
I look at eye level, it isnt good enough.
And then I find it out when I take a good look up.
Theres a hole in the sky with a big eyeball
Calling me:
Come up and be a kite,
On a diamond flight!
A diamond kite, a diamond kite.
Ooh, what a diamond!
A diamond kite
On a diamond flight.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the moon, over the moon!
I feel a rush along my body, like a bullet.
Im 2-d after a push-and-pull feeling.
And I want to get back to safe home:
I love the homeland dome.*
I got no limbs, Im like a feather on the wind.
Well, Im not sure if I want to be up here, at all.
And Id like to be back on the ground,
But I dont know how to get down--down--down!
Come up and be a kite,
On a diamond flight!
A diamond kite, a diamond kite.
Ooh, what a diamond!
A diamond kite
On a diamond flight.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the lights, under the moon.
Over the moon, over the moon!
song performed by by Kate Bush
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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No effect is by single force.
The red kite prides itself
on its flight right in the sky.
The green kite regrets
As it still sleeps on the soil.
The red kite forgets
that the wind is the cause of its flight.
On your pinnacle of joy,
you are put up by forces outside your might.
07.05.2001, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Kite Fight
Kite to kite
Fly the sky...
Suddenly
Kite to kite
Fight the sky...
One kite cut
Another kite...
with out nife...
One kite flying
Another kite...
Pass away to fly...
Not for kite
Life also same...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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A Butterfly's Song
I hear the song of a silent butterfly
A song of solitude
Like the awesome symphonic tones
Of a lonely violin
I see the beauty of the invisible wind
On which the butterfly roams
It carries him where he wishes to go
Then brings him back again
I taste the sweet flavorless water
Which makes the flowers grow
They give the butterfly perfumed nectar
We haven't time to smell
I hear the laugh of the silent butterfly
A song of scoff and mocking
For in his flight of solitude
Lies freedom eternal.
poem by Wakefield Mahon
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Butterfly...
Butterfly...my all..my own, Butterfly
My butterfly, I remember the
day we met. You bumped into me.
Well, sort of floated, from no where,
and from that moment, I recall what
I said, 'Well, my little butterfly,
where did you come from.?
Butterfly, you laughed, and responded,
'I picked you out, and just floated down,
and landed on your shoulder.
Butterfly, there are many that think
that a Butterfly, can't laugh, but you did.
They think that a Butterfly, does not cry,
but you have.
Can a Butterfly be happy, cause happiness?
Butterfly, of mine...you did.
Can a Butterfly, caused one to nearly burst
with joy? Butterfly, you did and you have.
Butterfly, there is not a moment, since I
met you, that I can not recall.
Some might wonder what a butterfly, drinks.
Butterfly, shall we let them know, we became
intoxicated, as we sipped the nectar of life.
As my butterfly and I floated through the
wonders of earth, I wish we could share the
joy we found, with all of this planet.
Butterfly, shall we always be together?
Butterfly, I do not mean, just here on
earth, I mean until the stars stop shinning.
Butterfly, I mean, until there is no moon...
no anything, but my Butterfly and I.
Butterfly...I think that we will. Butterfly,
I believe that we were meant to be.
Butterfly Butterfly
Butterfly butterfly, fly high to the sky,
Let everyone see how beautiful you are,
Among thousands you stand out, why lie,
Flutter those wings till everyone says “Wah”!
Butterfly butterfly, you are so elusive,
For a moment i think you are mine,
But i just find myself in love delusive!
When i stretch my hand to hold you,
Away from me you fly to the tallest pine!
To give up, or to give up not i have no idea,
But it’s all good to watch you in the skies so clear,
Without you to fly nothing would be the blue azure sky,
But if you ever tire from flight, come to me butterfly butterfly! !
poem by Charles Wamuti
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The Crow and The Butterfly
Ever wonder why the Crow chases the Butterfly?
Have you ever heard the Crow let out it's cry?
I think I found out why...
It's quite the interesting story, I had to pry..
The Butterfly's beauty, the Crow's will never match.
The Crow's life is nothing compared the the Butterfly's since it's first hatch.
If you are good enough to get a Butterfly, that is quite a catch.
Get a Crow somehow and it gets thrown right back out to the patch.
The Crow has had it so much easier than the Butterfly.
Straight jealousy from the Crow because they have to share the sky.
The Butterfly's flight is reason to stare, the Crow's just reason to cry.
Everyone stops to get a glance of a Buttflies, a few Crows and people pass by.
So if you ever hear a Crow cry,
Or see a Butterfly being chased by a Crow,
Just think how bad that Crow wants to be a Butterfly.....
poem by Joe Gosart
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Wing and Wind...
My butterfly, I remember the
day we met. You bumped into me.
Well, sort of floated, from no where,
and from that moment, I recall what
I said, 'Well, my little butterfly,
where did you come from.?
Butterfly, you laughed, and responded,
'I picked you out, and just floated down,
and landed on your shoulder.
Butterfly, there are many that think
that a Butterfly, can't laugh, but you did.
They think that a Butterfly, does not cry,
but you have.
Can a Butterfly be happy, cause happiness?
Butterfly, of mine...you did.
Can a Butterfly, caused one to nearly burst
with joy? Butterfly, you did and you have.
Butterfly, there is not a moment, since I
met you, that I can not recall.
Some might wonder what a butterfly, drinks.
Butterfly, shall we let them know, we became
intoxicated, as we sipped the nectar of life.
As my butterfly and I floated through the
wonders of earth, I wish we could share the
joy we found, with all of this planet.
Butterfly, shall we always be together?
Butterfly, I do not mean, just here on
earth, I mean until the stars stop shinning.
Butterfly, I mean, until there is no moon...
no anything, but my Butterfly and I.
Butterfly...I think that we will. Butterfly,
I believe that we were meant to be.
Butterfly, Butterfly
butterfly, butterfly
fly in the sky
butterfly, butterfly
flies so high
butterfly, butterfly
lands on my thigh
butterfly, butterfly
motionlessly lies
butterfly, butterfly
gracefully dies
poem by Adryan Bates
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Fresh Dimensions
Magic passion lifts aloft life’s song,
as love's light flexes butterfly-bright wings,
unchains hope's scope, reclaims aims' heartfelt rings,
dreams forward stream, finds feelings fair and strong.
Enigmas are resolved - false right, true wrong -
curb rash rush to judgement, insight brings
on innate understanding, softly sings
revealing fresh dimensions where “belong”
real empathy may entertain, prolong.
Invite proactive flight free from kite strings,
exile Time’s agression, salve past stings -
response sees through all torture-mirage tongs
attains new plane where each from each learns much,
spins sentiments meant to enhance shared touch.
10 June 2006 revised 18 May 2008 for previous version see below
Breathless passion lifts aloft life’s song,
Existence flexes butterfly-bright wings,
Leads to true aims attained, - unchained heart rings
Ideal dream’s forward stream, finds feelings strong.
No preconceptions air false right, true wrong,
Dare rush to judgement, for fresh insight brings
An innate understanding as scope sings
Boundless expansion where the word “belong”
Empathy may entertain, prolong.
Leave Time’s agression, all unpleasant stings,
Invite proactive flight free from kite strings.
New doors lead into sharing far from nong!
Draw inspiration to enhance and cheer
A reach where each from each learns vision clear.
10 June 2006
Fresh Dimensions Poem © Jonathan Robin
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Freedom Flight
Wrapped inside a little womb,
Struggling to be free,
The butterfly soon left its cage.
Nevermore a worm to be.
Born anew to be a sign
Of beauty, grace and life.
A light among a gloomy world
And hope in the midst of strife.
Oh, butterfly, with wings outspread,
Glistening in the light.
Show us how to fly with ease
As you begin your freedom flight.
poem by Mary Wadzinski
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The Kites
Kits are
Fly with
The sky...
Air was very help full...
Kite fly to fly
Another kite to fight...
Fight move the thread...
One kite cut the fight...
Another kite...
One kite loss life with fly...
Another kite fly to fly...!
poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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Butterfly Wishes
Butterfly, flutterby
Come to me
Take me to Mexico
On your delicate wing.
Butterfly, flutterby
It is early fall
I want to escape from here
To you I call.
Butterfly, flutterby
Be with me tonight
I’ll be ready in a minute
Ready for take-off; ready for flight.
Butterfly, flutterby
How gorgeous your face
Yellow, black, stained-glass wings
I see your mysterious smile and dainty grace.
Butterfly, flutterby
I’m waiting; I’ll stay
Please don’t forget me
But look! Now you’re going, going, gone, away.
Butterfly, flutterby
How can this be?
You said good bye
Now what about me?
Butterfly, flutterby
You could have come to me
Could have taken me to Mexico
On your delicate wing.
Butterfly, flutterby
This is not the end
Return for me next year
I will be waiting and watching, again and again.
poem by Jennie Scheihing
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You Have Cast Your Spell...
Is It Magic?
I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?
I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?
You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?
There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?
When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?
The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.
Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.
I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.
You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.
Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.
It's Love! Magic!
Is It Magic?
I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?
I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?
You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?
There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?
When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?
The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.
Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.
I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.
You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.
Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.
Butterfly, Butterfly
Hoping to catch your eye
Circling around you, oh my
Butterfly, butterfly, come into the light
Oh, what a beautiful sight
Flying so gracefully
Into the sky, the butterfly
Trying to catch a butterfly
Fly, fly, fly, butterfly
There he sets upon the mums
I'm having so much fun
Here's another on the sill
Your standing so still
You go to touch him
There he goes, the butterfly
I hear a tapping on the window
It's the butterfly, fly, fly, fly
There he goes into the sky
Flying so high, the butterfly
I'll see you another day
Butterfly, butterfly, away
poem by Sharon Adamson
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Apparition of a Butterfly
Upon a fuzzy vista – vision blurred –
I tried to focus; nothing ever solid
Came to view, but undeterred, I blinked
An eye to try again. Through the mist
A coloured hue; polychromatic flames
Had flickered at a whim; a rhythm bore
A thrumming too: a naturalistic hymn.
Behold! Were I to find a synonym to
Reproduce or recreate
The apparition of a butterfly,
Evolving through the waning vapour,
Drawing on a sigh from this romantic.
Glory be! The raging sun above
Had fired his furnace, flaming off
The hangers on. Now I saw the flare:
His time has come. He spread a tortoiseshell –
A scene of Mother Nature at her best.
I lay in peace in knowing I was blessed.
Copyright Mark R Slaughter 2009
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly fly
Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly Butterfly fly
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Butterfly Net
~A song before love, obviously.~
You are a butterfly,
Flying ever so high,
I could gaze at you until I die.
Life is a butterfly,
Clip the wings and you’ll never fly,
I will live until I die.
I am a butterfly net,
I’ll take you, faster than a jet,
I steal you, the only way you I could get.
I am an entomologist,
I dissect you, never kissed,
They’ll see I’m ****ed.
In the end,
I’ll always see you around the bend,
Up to date on the latest trend,
If only in my butterfly net.
poem by Nicholas Weaver
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It's Love! Magic!
Is It Magic?
I know not why I love.
Have you cast your spell of magic,
that makes this so?
I have taken to notice, the magic
that is life. Is that you? Is it
your magic that makes me so aware?
You are part of my entire being.
Is this also, your magic at work?
There's a song in my heart, and a
spring in my step. Is it magic?
Is it love? Magic? Love? Both?
When apart I feel a loss. Is
it your magic, that compels me
to miss you so?
The Magic of your kiss. The Magic of
your voice. The Magic of your touch.
If it is magic, I am completely
and willing, under your spell.
Can I live but a day, without the
love of your magic? No. Not
a day, or a minute, or one second
for all eternity.
I have never felt this way before.
Nor will I ever again, without
the cloak of your magic.
You are, and always will be,
My Magic Lady.
Yes...yes, most will say it is
love. Love perhaps.
Magic? Definitely.
poem by Waldon Pond Productions
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to connect himself to God
to make this divine connection
from his human
ity
he writes a poem about a kite that a child makes
from sticks and paper
and some paste
to stick them in together
like a symbolism
of body and soul
and the child puts the paper tail
as rudder
of this kite and then he runs to the field
to find the wind to give his kite a lift
to the skies
high spirited like his soul
and his body
wanting to be with
God up there
after this i will ask him,
the child
(or the child in him)
or simply him the man who who writes a poem about a kite
lifting itself up with the wind of his beaufiful words:
do you feel something divine?
was there something divine in this poem about a kite?
did you feel God?
did you see him up in the skies above?
you tell me about angels, now tell me, my friend
about the presence of God
tell me more, about this kite this flight this wind
do not mention anything about power
i am always this suspicious believer.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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