My grand son's pastel drawing
Siluna! Who sent me a drawing.
'Grandpa here's you! .'
A little house
By a Coconut tree
An old man with a beard
And he holds a string
A Red kite in the sky.
I replied him;
'Thank you very much for your lovely drawing my Sonny!
And I was searching in the pale sky
Your departed brother who left us
Without saying a Good bye!
And I added one more kite in Orange color
Flies in the mysterious sky without a string!
*To our deceased loving Grandson Prabashwara, one day we too come to that reserved place and definitely we bring this poem for you!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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String, Kite
i complete something today
dawn, there is dawn searching for
the door to morning
and it is closed
i look at an inspiration
it is not really good for me
but it completes me
this morning
the words that lay open and
never shut
to a conclusion
the one that makes me happier
to another day
there is something like a flesh
and it is pressed like a cloth between two iron sheets
there is heat
and it is not burned
there is a string in my hand
that holds a kite
i will cut it now and release
what all i had
to the air
it falls down
helpless to the ground
and no child ever
picks it up today
Monday, the second day of the year
the kite is free and it has no power to fly again in clear skies
separated from the string
nothing is noted to be significant
the way you see it
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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An Adult and an unforgettable Summer
Gentle wind blows
And weak leaves fall
Autumn peeps overall.
He gazed at a far away kite
That idles in the Western sky.
Oh! It's like his bygone summer
Gone with the wind quicker.
The same wind comes again
And where do you want to take him now?
His grandson draws a red kite in a pale blue sky with pastels
While sitting on the threshold.
It's almost an unforgettable summer
And his faintly kite never seen forever.
* I humbly dedicate this poem to the 9/11 innocent victims and their weeping families.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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Maiden Flight
The wind on top of the mountain
Is just right for flying my kite.
No, it’s not a store bought item
I made it from old newspapers,
Elmer’s glue and old balsa wood
Spine and spar sticks from last years kite.
Now here I am again ready
To launch it on its maiden flight.
I hope the tail isn’t too long;
The bridle string is sufficient.
Well, here goes! Come on baby fly!
That’s it! You want more string? Up! Up!
Easy does it! Straighten out babe!
That’s it! That’s it! You’re on your own.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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On A Thin String
A tree with leaves helps all us breathe.
And they wont be obsolete,
In our lifetime.
Not in yours or mine.
But there are those who choose conflict,
To destroy what does exist.
In our lifetime.
Yours and mine.
Mighty is a kite that flies high in the sky.
On a thin string to delight imaginations...
And,
Some believe they have the right to turn off lights.
No matter where they are...
They think they made the Earth and stars.
A tree with leaves helps all us breathe.
And they wont be obsolete,
In our lifetime.
Not in yours or mine.
But there are those who choose conflict,
To destroy what does exist.
In our lifetime.
Yours and mine.
Mighty is a kite that flies high in the sky.
On a thin string to delight imaginations...
And,
Some believe they have the right to turn off lights.
No matter where they are...
They think they made the Earth and stars.
Oh and,
Mighty is a kite that flies high in the sky.
On a thin string to delight imaginations...
And,
Some believe they have the right to turn off lights.
No matter where they are...
They think they made the Earth and stars.
And on a thin string,
Imagine if all life broke apart!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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You Have No Idea How Grateful I Am To You
Remember when you told me,
To go fly a kite?
Did you envision it to be seen,
By so many people?
That one suggestion,
Opened for me so many doors.
What else do you see in my future?
Anything luxurious on four wheels?
Any cruises on that menu?
How about a loving relationship...
With delicious chemistry and communication?
First or last names?
I'll even take initials at this point.
Let me know, okay?
When you told me to go fly a kite?
And I did?
You have no idea how grateful I am to you.
Here...
I brought to you the string.
Hold onto it.
And the first 'vibe' you get from it...
Call me,
Immediately!
What other talents have you been keeping from me?
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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Fallin' Upside Down
(Derek George/John Tirro)
There's no gravity up here
It's kind of hard to explain
Every time I'm holding you
It's like backwards rain, yeah
You lift me up like a kite on a string
Like a bird on newfound wings
So high on you, I'm floating and
Flying around
Your love's like fallin' upside down
You've got me so lightheaded
It's a dizzy mood
Spinning uncontrollably
And gaining altitude
You lift me up like a kite on a string
Like a bird on newfound wings
So high on you, I'm floating and
Flying around
Your love's like fallin' upside down
Look at me
Used to be, I could keep my feet
On the ground
When you said you could take
Me higher
You weren't playing around
(You weren't playing around)
You lift me up like a kite on a string
Like a bird on newfound wings
So high on you, I'm floating and
Flying around
Your love's like fallin' upside down
song performed by by Rascal Flatts
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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The Pencil Drawing
My Grandson is not well these days
It seems to be Bronchitis?
He draws America with a pencil stub
And he wants me to scribble something.
He says write a letter instead of an essay?
Please write down Sonny!
But no spelling mistakes
Like old politicians.
Dear Mr.Amerigo Vespucci,
My President is Mr.Barack Obama
And I am Siluna Bogamuwa.
Would like to have sisters like Malia Ann and Natasha!
America is very big like my tiny heart
America is strong as my handsome father.
America is kind as same as my loving mother.
I like to play football and bring highest marks to you all!
If you stop all the wars?
My Grandma would sing the National Anthem in her high pitch voice
And my slim jolly-good Grandpa likes to be a black puppy
in the White House if not chained?
[True strength is very delicate.-Nevelson]
nimal dunuhinga
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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The Poem Tree
The poem tree is a very safe haven,
for birds and fowl, a hawk, a raven, or
a little barn owl.The tree could be a
silhouette, or the finest place to raise
your pet.The poem tree could bear
the fruit of life.Such as apples and
pears, with morning dew.A wonderful
place to play the flute.The poem tree
could have a nest.Giving birds with
eggs, a place to rest.It could capture
a kite who someone lost, or be bitten
by the morning frost.It could capture
a balloon, which went astray, or drop
all its leaflets by the bay.The poem
tree could have a lollipop, or maybe
a candycane, umbrella branches, to
stop the rain.The tree could protect
all animals, from an oncoming flood,
and keep all the tree bugs out of the
mud.Above the tree the sun will shine.
Home for a raccoon, or a porcupine..
The Poem Tree by Kim Robin Edwards
Copyright 2011.All rights reserved.
poem by Kim Robin Edwards
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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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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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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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A Special Greeting card
I was really amazed
It's from our Grandson!
A pencil drawing of a Gocart
Two old fashioned figures sitting inside
And he pushes.
Oh! He writes poetry in capital letters
Perhaps he thinks that we cannot read simple letters?
'Do not worry my dear Grandma & Grandpa
Sorry, I heard that your car has run into a junk-yard.
When I come to America
I'll push you to Grand Canyon in my cart
If you guide me along the road?
I pasted some pictures of Grand Canyon on my scrap-book
You know my girl friend 'Priyanwada' gave me.'
*I added this;
Hey! Sonny you looks like your naughty old Man
And why don't you send us her photograph?
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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