Who Takes My Torn Kite Up?
I have a crochet-thread big roll lengthy and unbreakable
And this bamboo skeleton wrapped with an oil paper.
In the drizzle of gloomy hope,
My dreamlike delicate kite
When she goes to the unfaithful sky?
And I hear that she mutters;
'Kites rise against the wind.'
(I dedicate this poem to my friends Jerry & Alison)
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Related quotes
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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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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Silkworm, Bachelor and a Spinster
A bachelor idles in his lonely garden
And mutters to the silkworm crawls on a maple tree.
' Hey! My tiny friend do you hear that sad song of my neighbor?
If I borrow your spinneret,
Then I could have make a long silky thread unbreakable
And weave a fine bedspread for her a New year gift.'
To all my friends a Happy New Year!
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Eastern Grey Kangaroo
'Macropus Giganteus'
Is this your tribal name?
And we are human beings.
You live in Australian Green
And we like to hide in your secured pouch
To see our daughter and Son-in-law in Dandenong North
Oh! Our friends Alison and Jerry too.
All of them may surprise when we jump out to their premises.
Dear Kangaroo, You are so innocent like us
And we are friends indeed.
We reduce our weight and never give you a burden.
In your warm pouch we dream a cold pasture.
*To Tharindu & Kelum...............Alison & Jerry........!
[Tharindu, the stamp on your letter with two Kangaroos really amazed me.]
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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Roll Over
You've gone the same
From day one
Don't think you'll ever change
I have to laugh
Every time you screw it up
Funny how I take the blame
Why is everything designed
To try and get a rise out of me?
Can't believe you never guessed
Only playing second best to ya
You oughta know I'm in control
I ain't gonna just roll over
You think that I'm here to please ya
But you don't even know, oh baby
I got you wrapped around my finger
You're so predictable
Don't open your mouth
Cos everyday you're outta here
So listen up
You think you're baby now
You know you never leave
'Cos I got you by the time
And it takes to realise the truth
I'm using you
And the more you think you won
The stronger I become
You wanna know, I'm in control
I ain't gonna just roll over
You think that I'm here to please ya
But you don't even know, oh baby
I got you wrapped around my finger
I ain't gonna just roll over (roll over)
You think that I'm here to please ya
But you don't even know, oh baby
I got you wrapped around my finger
Why is everything designed
To try and get a rise out of me
But the more you think you won
The stronger I become
You oughta know I'm in control
I got you wrapped around my finger
I got you wrapped around my finger
I ain't gonna just roll over
You think that I'm here to please ya
But you don't even know, oh baby
I got you wrapped around my finger
I ain't gonna just roll over
You think that I'm here to please ya
But you don't even know, oh baby
I got you wrapped around my finger
song performed by by Holly Valance
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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A sad tune she plays in a rainy night
With a small drizzle I hear the melody,
Queen of the night she walks here and there with the wind
And it looks so sad when she passes without a hope.
There isn't a single soul to be seen on the road
As the drizzle turned into heavy rains unexpectedly.
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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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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And For All My Questions My Friend Has An Answer
you have seen the kite flying in the air
and you believe it
you have not seen the wind but you feel it just the same and you name it
as the wind
and you accept it as the wind that exists in reality
because it lifts the kite
i feel God like the wind, i see myself like the kite
there is this divinity that sticks on the stick and string and paper
lifting me up
like a child to the skies above
i do not have power
it is the wind which has it and the wind has it because the owner of the wind
has bestowed up it the power
yes the wind that you do not see but you just feel
my friend, i am not ashamed to tell you about angels
neither am i ashamed to tell you about the existence of the owner of the angels
He is our God and He loves us
why do you insist on flying away like a bird?
why?
believe and be loved
love and learn to love some more, and be a believer forever
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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Bamboo Tunes and Cat Eyed Girl
In the murmuring evenings,
Cat eyed girl, worn ear-rings,
Stands by bamboo cluster,
Putting down pots of water.
Gilded bamboos sing and sway,
And the tired path becomes gay.
Bamboo hearts throb ever;
Unnamed tunes cease never.
Her bamboo throes resounded
In the gloomy wind unbounded.
Melodies of earth does shower
On her soul that does hover.
Finger tip of the wind brings
Sweet tunes from bamboo strings.
Music enters her inner grove,
Where the forlorn dreams rove.
Cuddled bamboos swing and say
What the lovers failed to say.
Never dying natural music
So keeps her hopes rhythmic.
poem by Fabiyas M V
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The Bridge Rainbow over the River Sky
As soon as I recovered from Hay Fever
My congested nostrils cleared
And I could sniff as usual.
A rare fragrance from Dandenong in Australia.
My daughter Tharindu and son-in-law Kelum reside there.
She conceived it seems,
What a happy news wind brought?
If a boy I would like to call him 'Siddharta'.
And if a girl 'Yashodara'.
Nine months; more than enough
Learn Martial arts and get a black-belt
To fight with the mysterious life.
Nine months; quite enough
Learn dancing
To dance with the melancholy song of life.
Your old grandma [still looks young and could marry again]
And your old grandpa[ Cowboy on a wooden horse]
Waiting anxiously to see our grandson or granddaughter.
When we get the permission to cross the bridge rainbow over the river sky?
*I humbly dedicate this poem to Alison & Jerry
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
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Scribbler's Stymie
Pen and paper in sight
I've got no poem to write
Staying up all night
I've got no poem to write
Although my mind is bright
I've got no poem to write
It's windy out tonight, should I go fly a kite?
I've got no poem to write
My ceiling, it is white
I've got no poem to write
It's 4: 59! Five, but not quite
I've got no poem to write
In your arms I'd feel so light
I've got no poem to write
I've had no sleep tonight
I've got no poem to write
Will you just hold me tight?
I've got no poem to write
Outside it's almost light
I've got no poem to write
It's late, off goes my light
I've got no poem to write
poem by Julia Grace
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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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This is a poem....
This isn't a poem of one direction,
This is a poem about perfection.
This isn't a poem about who won the election,
This is a poem about correction.
This isn't a poem of getting it right,
This is a poem of standing up to fight.
This isn't a poem of being lost like a kite,
This is a poem about trying to find the light.
This isn't a poem of running tears,
This is a poem about chasing your fears.
This isn't a poem of love and hate,
This is a poem of destiny and fate.
This isn't a poem of the end,
This is a poem of a heart unable to mend.
This isn't a poem of cruilty and pain,
This is a poem of a thng i need to gain.
This isn't a poem of shame,
This is a poem of fame.
Thsi isn't a poem of the life i let loose,
THIS IS A POEM OF THE TRUTH.
poem by Tammie LilAimo
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Destiny Traps
Hold your kites before fly its
And feel the winds blow
See if there is cumulonimbus
Because after the kite fly in the sky
Ones couldn’t stops it
Or you lose it
Only left benign on yours hand
Kite like mans body
Whether wind like mind and spirits
If you not account the balance
You will come to the destiny-traps
And ask to the God
Built life is not in justice
And then left our children
Bad world for there grow up
And bad words for their families
Bad think for everything
Jakarta,10/25/2005
poem by Prasetya Utama
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How Do You Expect This Kite To Fly In The Wind?
my friend, how do you expect this kite to fly in the wind
its long tail is disconnected from its body like a tree without roots
its paper is thin, its skeletons too soft to stand against the wind
how do you expect to live in freedom,
on uncut navels, on shallow disappointments, on shaky guts,
my friend, to live in freedom
like the kite, we too must go against the wind
the stronger winds against us are much better
much wanted
we shall then fly so high against the wind that gives us the lift
and when we gain the heights
up there, we look on all the things
so little before us
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Kite Surfers
In Bournemouth, it’s a bright and breezy autumnal day.
Kite surfers are out in force, zooming around the bay.
We stand there and watch them for a short while,
Admiring their talent and their individual styles.
Lifted by the strong wind, into the air, they rise a few feet.
That feeling of exhilaration, I can imagine, can’t be beat.
Their kites lift them way up high towards the blue sky,
And, for a few precious moments, they actually fly!
For them, today, the weather conditions are just right.
And their amazing antics make a truly awesome sight.
Once back down on the water, they soon pick up speed;
Their coloured canopies, filled with air, taking the lead.
They launch themselves from the next big wave.
To the natural elements, they are all but a slave.
Feeling decidedly chilly, we are soon on our way;
Leaving the kite surfers behind, to frolic and play.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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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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