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Kakemono Kites of Spring

Kite hung in cerulean sky
invites comparison to scroll
as string unwinds see colours roll
ascend, descend, as butterfly
breasting current, soaring high,
then gliding, fabric on cross pole
stitched, kakemono parabole
whose history of times passed by
or vibrant dragon scarcely shy,
prints memory one may unroll
when seeking causal links whose string
plays out or reins in Chance's sting.

Kakemono kite portrays
chromatic hieroglyph within
rollers wooden, yang and yin
invite a glance. Attention stays.
Beyond horizon's curtain haze
kami set reeled wheels a-spin,
mislaid sensations may begin
recalling soul-song 'spite life's maze.
If Fate some unseen hand obeys
No straight line logic can man pin, -
Knit your own links, spurn worldly din.
Advance, each forward step portrays
rung strung on ladder, represents
inked history's evanescence.

Fresh fanned breeze feels kite's counterwheels
in energy reborn, whose light,
responds to current's second-sight,
paints sense intense on bobbing reel.
Breeze buffet dance, rides' glides conceal
karmic trajectory for flight.
An aura some might call insight,
reflecting semi-conscious zeal
through these three sonnets shows appeal
needing no fancy phrases bright.
Kite flies to offer wings which might
refer to life's conditions real,
ressuscitates awareness, knows
seeds sown soon grow where'er wind blows.

for previous version entitled Magic Circle see below
Kakemono inked portrays
A magic circle where, within
Rollers wooden, yang and yin
Invite a glance. Attention stays.
Now chance has fuelled an inner blaze!
Kami set the wheels a-spin
As long lost feelings can begin
Recalling soul-song through Life's haze.
If Fate some unseen hand obeys
No straight line logic can man pin, -
Knit your own links, spurn worldly din.
Advance! Each step through life's mad maze
Rung on the ladder represents,
INside walls fall, - who needs defence?

Keep faith with Life and you will feel
An energy reborn, whose light,
Responding to some second-sight
Intense may sense bring to Fate's wheel.
Now motivations don't conceal!
Karmic call falls for free flight,
An aura some men call insight,
Reflecting inner, conscious zeal.
In this short sonnet my appeal
Needs no fancy phrases bright.
Kite flies to offer wings which might
Answer expectations real.
Recall all intuitions, know
INdeed that seeds sown soon shall grow!

(5 December 1996 revised 1 March 2010)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Kite Flight

Fresh fanned breeze feels kite's counterwheels in energy reborn, whose light,
paints sense intense on bobbing reel, responds to current's second-sight.
Breeze buffet dance, ride's glides, conceals karmic trajectory of flight
reflecting semi-conscious zeal for aura some might call insight,
refers to life, conditions real, fetches few fancy phrases bright.

(13 February 2012)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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The Kite The Wind Took As If A Poem

You bought the kit,
couldn’t wait for Mum to clear the table
to spread its bits and pieces out

didn’t your Dad help you? Yes, of course –
those were the good times..
‘your Dad’… do we ever really realise
they had a life of their own,
not merely extras in the drama
of your life?

the wooden struts cut to length,
the careful, don’t hurry Michael cotton wound
around the glue, and then more glue,
put the top back on again Michael
or you’ll be sorry when you come to use it again…
what’s again, in a boy’s life? …

that special waterproofed paper
finally in place; Mum’s hair-dryer
cautiously used to tauten
the bright kite’s sail
not too near Michael,
read the instructions…

it’s alive now, the kite,
the two of you waiting
to learn about wind, even
what you thought a mere light breeze…

what strength! on that first outing
on the beach or in the park;
the mere light breeze
which as your kite sailed up there in the sky,
dipping, soaring around the other kites
like a half learned, half graceful dance
which the wind wrote

but you did not listen fully to:
a sudden pull of wind, a parting
somewhere between string and kite…

no longer your kite; now
it’s the wind’s kite
sailing off into the blue
to meet the clouds perhaps

was it your Dad, after
he too had been silent-sad,
or was it Mum as she wiped your face who said

the wind, the sky, loved it too much
to give it back

and so with poems.
Throw away the box and stuff
but keep the glue, it may, like memory,
come in useful
next time

and so with poems.
The wind, the sky,
deserve them for their own;
they can go further, faster, they’re more strong
than you;

let go the string, now, as it falls to earth;
watch the bright kite
till it's out of sight;
was it ever yours?

poem by Michael Shepherd
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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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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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I have a kite

a kite fly too high, is but a dream to see
see it with me, fly it to see, feel it
with me, all are just the way to
be with me

a kite flies, lies a tie that flies

a wonderful kite, soar high above to
the sky so high, surfing to the heaven
it see

a kite that brings, the thing to be,
brings it with me

a day that i know, where it go, hold
me so dearly, and leave with me
for that kite that fly is me....

poem by Antonio Liao
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Kite Song

I flew a kite, I held on tight to its string.
Each time I go anywhere, I held on tight.
In the middle of the night I woke up in fright,
Thinking maybe in my dream I let go of my kite.
When I was in a restaurant, talking to my friends,
Watching their mouths move faster and faster.
I thought of the kite that was flying in the sky
And made sure that my hand was holding the string.
That was a long time ago,
Many skies went by since then.
Now my hands stopped holding anything
And Ive learnt to take a walk instead.
Then one day in the evening light,
I saw something strange shining bright.
The sky was dark, with swarms of larks,
And in the midst of it all, yes, it was my kite.
How did the kite get there, Ill never know,
Floating away among the clouds to where nobody knows.
I held my gun with both my hands,
Slowly aiming at the shining dot.
The shot went off, the dot blew off,
Since then Ive never seen the kite again.

song performed by by Yoko Ono
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Flying High

My oh my!
What a gorgeous day to fly
Let's release that puffer kite
High in the crystal clear blue sky

We're running out of string
Send that kid on his bike
To the hobby shop to get more
What do you mean, what for?

Why, to fly that kite
Beyond the clouds, earth and universe
The wind is perfect today
We can do this beyond the moon and stars

oops! string broke over passing cars
Where is it now?
Where the past kite fliers now fly
My, oh my!
How high, this kite did, fly

poem by Matt Mondschein
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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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Yarn

Swift spinning wheel revolves within,
revel keyed to rainbow bright,
now wing weft warps, now weaves from sight,
enters, leaves as senses spin.
What is end when things begin
from finish, swing new day from night,
wind sings chains free, both slack and tight,
yet what is joy without chagrin?

What is sense, what static din?
Some wavelengths ultraviolet light
funnel, infra-red some, - sight
depends more on expected whim
than on the rods and cones within
retinal lining - photons’ rite
when redefined as ‘wrong’ or ‘right’,
pre-expectations underpin.

Neurons nitroglycerin
polychromatic dynamite,
synaptic leaps reject rein tight
upon emotions sybilline.
Cyclone eye churns Yang and Yin
while wings gain height wild winds unite,
tension rises, satellite
impressions signal ‘hurry…kin’.

Romantic sings life’s violin
which time-tunes runes to candlelight
as spirit moth finds wings for flight
beyond beyond to ponder, win
new which from old unfolds, gold tin
transforms as thought, deed, reunite.
Prismatic spirit earns insight, -
rebirth on Earth which knows no sin.

Cupid’s arrows javelin
enchantment meant to expedite
attachment which through thick and thin
encouraged is by Aphrodite
who web casts while forecasting him
and her stay playful, - wayward bite
love, urchin, leaves on cheek and chin,
rewards self-righteous with their plight.

Oppositions melt then twin -
Spring springs from Winter, day from night, -
as symbiotic parasite
[r]evolves around a second skin
dissolves again to re-begin
to redivide as surface tight
an oscillation patterned quite,
wizard which might make Merlin.

Theme’s variations, schemes akin,
vibrate, surge, splurge, converge, invite,
emerge to soar as karmic kite
flies options fresh, meets challenge in
tempo gamma-globulin
produces rendering airtight,
immune from falsehood, empty [w]rite,
spins masculine from feminine.

Wings breast test air where streams within
streams conscious dream unconscious write -
how best to tint, imprint, excite,
imagination. Catherine
wheels pyrotechnic paladin
pinpoints - firefly infinite -
fractal patterns which recite
kaleidoscopic origins.

Whirlpool waves through thick and thin
can colour Chance, once left, to right
all former spectrum oversight,
advance as if from trampoline
they sprung to string joy’s mandolin
combining hues which spring from white,
effervescence tints spotlight,
blends gold, bold orange, - out and in

turquoise, yellow, pink, begin
an iridescent dance delight
inspired by sapphire, chrysolite,
red ruby, purple tourmaline,
all save its own achromatin
as alpha-actin appetite
sustaining rhythm’s forward flight
taps into its adrenalin.

All stems from nothing, down turns up,
gain’s drained from spill to fill life's cup.
Yarn's thread is sped, spun patchwork quilt
where wings of light sprung free from guilt.

© Jonathan Robin written 26 November 2006

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Like A Kite

Sometimes, in my quiet remembrance
I could wish to be like a kite
That flies across the blue sky
and kissed the clouds that dance
on a swagging of air
Like a kite that can touch
the rainbow in the sky
to know the secrets that hides
in their glorious color.

Like a kite, soaring through the wind
Go higher, higher and higher
Trying to reach the mountain tops
We both don't have our own wings
But the wind will be with us
To feel the joy that swells within
And drank the air,
to feel the warmth of a clear spring sky.

poem by Cheryl Aldea
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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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Patanjali - for Alison

The boy Patanjali,
flying his kite in the breezy Thiramurti hills
one day cut the thread; the kite
sailed over the hills upon the wind;

asked why he had done that,
the child had no answer;
only his future life
and yoga sutras.

The kite was silent, dancing in its joy;
we, that joyful kite.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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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
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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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Sonnet-Emulate If Need Be

There is no harm if we should imitate
A Master's work or copy his life-style;
There is no thing we sometimes call as 'Fate';
'Tis left to each to walk or run Life's mile.

There is a tinge of sub-lying likeness,
In art or craft of all earthlings, we see;
All underlying good, we must harness;
The faults, mistakes and blunders- let them be.

The string of Life's kite, we all tend to hold
Was flown by Forefathers in Winds unknown;
Some learn to fly it only when quite old;
The moment some hold it, the kite is down!

There is no harm in emulating then
The good achieved by all our earlier men.

poem by John Celes
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Ars Poetica

Some from within, some from without,
without a doubt set to,
as soul-song spins tale which begins
to flow, grow, glow. Thereto
through weaving in and weeding out
touch base with Nature, cue
time, place, as twins defeat and wins
ignored are through and through.
No need to shout, run roundabout,
use artificial glue,
scribe’s violin tunes, underpins,
technique as heart rings true.
Sensations scout, don’t beat about
the bush, tout false virtue,
The poet’s string must second skin
become, ne’er dumb, askew.

Words work their way by night and day
from phases past, to light
through threads at play that more threads lay,
reeled phrases feed fresh flight.

(30 March 2005 revised 9 June 2007 and 1 February 2012)
robi03_1128_robi03_0000 XXX_IXX

see below for previous version entitled Poetics

Poetics

Some from within some from without
without a doubt flow true
as soul-song spins tale which begins
to grow, and then glows too
through weaving in and weeding out -
touch intuitions know
from phases past so phrases last
through threads which more threads sow...

(30 March 2005)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Beneath The Heights...

Beneath the heights
Flying along the tracks of floating rain clouds
My kite flies not caring for me ever.
Behind the kite my thread trails.
My hands hold it ever.

When the clouds begin to rain my kite sways
But as the sky clears he smiles.
I am not seen by him still.
Beneath my kite my thread shudders.
My hands hold it ever.

Above the heaven`s zenith
He flies, he alone flies.
Far down in the earth`s nadir
I stand alone holding my thread.
Beneath me the tremor begins...

poem by M.d Dinesh Nair
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Cusps

CUSPS

Cusps convergent redivide
Unexpectedly, conceal
Spiel links. Cause, Effect, reveal
Pre-destination never. None inside
Subtle riddles read, none ride
COherently around rune wheel,
None key, tune into, Future’s weal.
Vainly humankind has tried
Explaining karma to provide
‘Real’ explanations for Life’s reel –
Gu[s]t gest jest conundrum sealed,
Ephemeral both ebb and tide.

Connections karmic can’t collide,
Unerringly rule, school, unreel
Silk threads slippery as eel,
Prepare tomorrows far and wide,
Synchronicity complied.
Crossroads' kismet none repeal,
ON even keel draw curtains, peel
Vision peripheral aside.
Evaluation don't deride -
Response-reaction’s ceaseless meal -
Ground by, from intuitive feel.
Effect? - Coincidence’s bride!

Still writ stays fitting, locks Time’s door,
Will, Wit, ways knitting, clock rhyme's store.

Independant variation of CUSPS CONVERGE

written 10 March 2011

for alternate version see below
IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII

CUSPS CONVERGE

Cusps converge then redivide,
Unexpectedly conceal
Symphonic links Time may reveal
Perchance some day, tune runes inside,
Subtle riddles read. Who’d ride
Concentric ripples round Fate’s wheel,
ON key, in tune with Future’s weal?
Vain mankind has often tried
Effect and Cause to link, provide
‘Real’ explanations for Life’s spiel –
Gust on Time’s breeze Death, Past, fast seal –
Ephemeral both ebb and tide.

Cusps connected can’t collide,
Unique the rule to school, unreel
Silk threads which, slippery as eel,
Prepare tomorrows far and wide,
Synchronic patterns spinn, abide,
Chaos kept on even keel, …
ONe law – or flaw – none can repeal.
Vision peripheral aside
Each should Cause search and not deride
Response-reaction’s ceaseless meal
Ground by and from Fate too few feel.
Effect? - Coincidence’s bride!
Still stays writ, fit lock for Time’s sandy wall,
Will, Ways, Wit, knit knock, door, key, rhymes, and all...

Convergency men seize upon to show
One moment their superiority
Next time, when thwarted, claim 'bad luck', blame, see
Vicious circle, counterfeited flow.
Each act is judged upon what 'chance' may sow,
Responsibility depends on ends, means, meeting key
Grandeur, defeat, or opportunity,
ENigmas solved or fallow fields' dust blow.
To 'Fate' hard knocks, to 'self' praise due, view crow!
Come double standards, rewrite history
Ordaining 'hindsight' loco parentis
Unique divinity above, below.
No credibility's accorded judgement which
TERgiversation shows twixt stitch or swich.

acrostic sonnets CUSPS CONVERGE written
8 March 2005 revised with final sonnet CONVERGENT COUNTER added 27 May 2008
robi03_1071_robi03_0000 AXX_CMZ

Cusps Converge Poem © Jonathan Robin

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Fly my lovely kite in the rain

wet cloth me in the night, dress me with a
mink that feather my skin; warm my day
with joy in the lucky sky, return the smooth
of the mouth that sweating my tongue of
the fresh dew lips i return as you

fly little kite in the rain, the tail that guide, hide
it with the wind, cut it short as it dance in the
turmoil breezing skies with dazzling wiggle; just
parting each part with the tearing tail it fall, come
wash out the waiting wet tail in the high above
the land it fly the night may fall, but the rain it
speed up in the tailing sky, as far in a distance
light beneath the horizon of a different
Heavenly skies

rain. rain; touch my tail in the body it fell, thread
lost as far it could stood, hold where nobody should
fold, in the string the wet kite brings, the neon of
fresh, steer me to find the genuine face where
everybody wish to tie my hand to stay goodbye

soar high my dear kite the sky is wide, easy to
fly, as you surf the heavenly sky, leave no one to
remember that the past has something to say
of how to make it easy, with a heavy tail in the air

weight balance my speed, in the wet it rise,
to the spectrum of the clouds, where you want stay
high......fly my kite, the wet tail seem it easy to
carry as the sky goes high

poem by Antonio Liao
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Fly Kite

kite fly

with out tail

on rounding

with a tail..

good flying..

kite fly with

air..

thred...

tail...

kite will bee

fly...?

i don't no

kite also don't

no

that is life

some thing

but nothing...

poem by Otteri Selvakumar
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