Related quotes: The distraught weather passed above...

Kites

The distraught weather passed
above the ponderous hands
of icicles and charcoals
and amongst these phantasms
I watched a phalanx of
unfettered kites adrift
the lackadaisical paunch clouds
and the willowing of their
cavernous vaults

The diamond shadows -
perfectly symmetrical
and atrociously sharp -
casted ominous patterns
on my lifeless body
staring at their distant flight
and writhing amongst
the felled autumn leaves

Dry as an unaddressed telegram,
I linger here futilely until
every words etched on the
ornate hollowness of my tableau
would just be meaningless words
and eloquent alphabets
cursively stroked without
empathy and desire

This is my stalemate fate:
watching the weather take
pivots and forever molt,
and I implore for nothing more
but more of your generous pain
until I drown and learn
to breath underwater -
until I can be like dead soldiers
marching across the wrathful fusillade:
apathy is an armada and
amnesia is a vanguard

But the kites grew faces
and dancing lips and
I have become the gnarled loops
on the flat lines of their strings.

poem by Norman Santos
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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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Blame The Weather

When your loves flown out the window,
And the pain comes through the door.
Once again youve missed the boat,
And youre stranded on the shore.
And you find out that what you had,
Was never yours at all,
Friends and lovers that you knew so well,
Will never take your calls.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
If you play the game
Youve got to be prepared to take a knock,
You get put down so many times,
But you keep on getting up.
So put your tears away,
And dont forget to worry is a crime,
Nothing bears thinking about too much,
Youll be old before your time.
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.
The pool of tears you left to drown in,
The helping hands that never came,
The years you lost out to another,
All up in flames
So,
You blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh,
Blame the weather,
Oh-oh
Cant you see youre in your prime?
Youre turning creases into lines.

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blame The Weather

song performed by by Xtc
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Drown

Drown, drown
Drown, drown
Drown, drown, suffocating no air, underwater no air
Drown, drown, suffocating no air, underwater no air
And you know that I need you
So give me something I can do
But you just take and rip away, until its over
Ive been waiting for so long
Finally found out what went wrong
Listen closely and you will hear, that it is over, right now
She ties you down, down, down, down, down, down, down
Wasted!!
You made me love you
Drown, drown, suffocating no air, underwater no air
Drown, drown, suffocating no air, underwater no air
Lie your head down thoughts consume
On a blanket in your room
Wraps into fire and comes so clear
Face head over
Drifting out, out into sea
Looking glass, cleared for me
Glancing slowly for some room
To bang a nail solidly through
Its all over cant you see
Ive given you all of me
So scratch until you dig away, all of the venom from your vein
I cant help you, cant you see, that it is over
Dont you know its over, dont you know its over
Drown, drown, suffocating no air, underwater no air
Drown, drown, suffocating no air, underwater no air
Drown, drown, suffocating no air, underwater no air
Drown, drown, suffocating no air, underwater no air
Sacrifice my soul to you
Disappearing in thin air

song performed by by Uranium 235
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Living Leaves

The leaves seem to take on a life of their own,
As, along the ground, they’re bounced and blown.
They run rings around my rapidly pacing feet;
Pulsating, moving, as if dancing to a musical beat.

Along the ground, the leaves skip and skitter,
As they’re blown around by the wind so bitter.
Each other, they sometimes appear to chase,
As they run around, with such a great haste.

With me, the leaves seem to be playing a game,
But they are very boisterous, and not at all tame.
Devoid of moisture, they’re as light as a feather,
And are lifted effortlessly, in this windy weather.

Some of them take flight through the air like kites;
Often soaring up to the most remarkable heights.
They zoom all around: so much higher than me;
Seemingly thrilled that, at last, they’re finally free.

Endless energy, the leaves seem to have acquired:
If we ran around like that, we would soon be tired.
The long dead leaves, all brown, with edges curled,
Are whipped up by the wind, and tirelessly whirled.

The leaves perform such a merry little dance;
Up into the air, they now do leap and prance.
To each other, they seem to whisper and rustle,
As, along the streets, they now hustle and bustle.

Following their freedom, they seem keen to explore.
They’re totally undiscouraged by the wind so raw.
More and more leaves excitedly come out to play
As. along the road, I carry onwards, on my way.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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A Poet Not

Hello Stranger,
Have you read my endeavors?
Have you dissected the tassels
of my ornate tapestry
of grief, of shabby bliss?
Because underneath
the obsidian armour of
these eloquent words
is a door left ajar
for someone to penetrate
my shy impenetrable curtains

Dear Stranger,
I am no one and
I have never been important;
I am nobody's son,
no proud homeland,
not a good comrade,
not an idyllic beau,
not a simple soul,
my esoteric penchant
for a profound quintessence
is a casualty
glaring with a neon sign

But would you be generous
to let me covet the banner
of a poet - manqué or laureate?

Would you not take
a poet for granted and peer
behind the eloquently tossed
epistles and paroxysmal rhymes?

Would you be parsimonious
of the serrated veracity
that my arcane tirade
is defunct of grandiosity?

Would you cure
me egoistic affliction
slowly and quickly abating
to the void of everything?

Because if am no one,
not even a poet in your
simple and delicate tableau
then I have always been
futilely no one
then please neglect
the spurious laments
of this poet.

poem by Norman Santos
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Let Kites Fly

Russians were always friend
Kept their promises till the end
Whether friendship treaty or otherwise
They have kept words with promises

I witnessed arrivals of jaguars
They were flying from very far
Landed first at near by base
It was nice to witness the chase

Indian air space is to be considered as holy scene
Never to be violated and ever to be seen
Countrymen look towards warriors and brave
Let enemy now watch their move properly behave

Countries near by borders are to be watched
Their intention is to be repeatedly searched
Not even full proof system may grant protection
Our brave soldiers and airmen may prove it with their action

I have observed Russians like best among best
We can trust them and line with them at least
Country owes so much in debt for noble gesture
Country was at peace in past with secured future

Love the way friends react
Judge them by words and their act
If we are safe and secure
Countrymen too can feel very much sure

Let kites* fly in the air
With enough of superiority to look fair
I was with the force as man of air
What a way to feel 'where eagles dare'

I salute to the friends and men behind machines
Their future and country's fate too shines
Let them perform the way when devil approaches
Sky may be the limit when it tries to reach

*Kites are referred to as aircrafts*

poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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The Kites

the kites
take pride of their freedom

befriending the proud winds
and elbowing with the hands of the great sun

they swim in the clouds
and sing the songs of the mighty and the free

they look down
and to lowly places and creatures frown

forgetting perhaps
the strings that tie them to the hands
of children

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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As the ink begins to run...! ! ! ! ! ! !

A sheaf of papers got swept with the breeze,
Like kites my poems took flight with ease.
I watched as drifted and fell to the ground,
On the freshly mowed grass, without a sound.

Is there anything new about my thoughts?
I wondered feeling a bit startled and distraught.
What ever makes me feel they are so very unique?
Aren’t they intrinsic part of being human, felt intrigued?

Dark clouds gathered and hid the setting Sun,
Soon light showers soaked the papers, ink began to run,
Like salty tears wet the cheeks of an overwhelmed heart.
How come I feel free … I muttered to no one with a start.

poem by Mamta Agarwal
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Pirouetting Autumn

The tree blushed - a rude blast of air
Betrayed a shapely bough.
My saddened heart aware
That Nature's clock was chiming,
I froze upon the twelfth
Clanging tone, caught alone,
Staring at a creaking door -
Left ajar for dancing, coloured Autumn,
Pirouetting in her leaves,
While agitated summer creatures
Backed away resignedly,
Sighing in protracted breves.
I turned; gave company;
We stood together, watching
Summer slowly blow away.

A utumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn
Autumn autumn autumn autumn

poem by Mark R Slaughter
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Fever

Look at these eyes admit that you're killing me but you can never see
the damage that you do! Look at this fool in tears on his stupied knees
you treat me like disease how can I please you? I'd change the weather
I'd change the weather for you now I'd change the weather I'd get down
on my knees and pray for you I'd change the weather I'd change the
weather for you now I'd change the weather I'd get down on my knees
forever! And if I could I'd kiss you and run away now shut your mouth
and pray it's something that I'll do but I'm a fool a magnet to your
vicious words to you I look absurd but I'm in love with you

song performed by by Underworld
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Confused Atmosphere

Mother Nature may be confused, just like those, who have used,
This demeaning title to describe, the very God they have denied,
The Lord God, Who orders all, weather patterns, great and small,
He may never enter their minds, while stirring weather of all kinds.

Confused He isn't or will not be, for He is The Lord of all Eternity,
He is God of Order, up above; controlling weather men speak of,
And they truly don't understand, He controls the weather at hand,
Confusing only meteorologists, who dream Mother Nature exists.

They forecast the weather to come, not aware of where it is from,
Knowing not who is really behind, the weather they bring to mind,
Being shaken and very surprised, when it's not as they surmised,
But taking credit from their peers, for saying good weather nears.

Often times, you may even note, as weather is good some gloat,
About the returning of the sun, as if, it's something they've done,
Even though they may shy away, as bad weather comes our way,
Almost with a real reverence to, The Lord, to whom it is truly due.

For He is The Creator of this earth, Ruler over the whole universe,
He has, and always will control, all weather patterns, big or small,
With change meteorologists see, that fools the latest technology,
And it's those who have refused, God's Truth, who are confused.

poem by Bob Gotti
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My Hurricane Panic Attacks

The Weather Panic Attacks
Watching every weather station, reading every report
Stomach twisting in knots, knowing my home is to be my fort
Over whelming fear of doom, of this hurricane that's headed this way
Will this be the one, with wall of water that buries all that stay

I can't seem to breath and heart racing, can't calm down, so afraid
Brings me back to early childhood, to where some times I played
Brings back memories of abuse and being held under the dark water
Where I was held off a pier, being pulled under like a lamb to slaughter

I tell myself this will be okay, but deep down I guess I can't reason
I'm so terrified, because they say this will be a bad hurricane season
People don't want to hear the weather report any more from me
They can't feel the terror of what I feel and they can't see

Will I forever be doomed with this curse on my life, the fear and pain
Can the panic attacks begin to go and treat the weather like rain
The storm has pasted, the weather center I must start watching again
To start watching for tropical Caribbean weather all over again!
By Dogs4donna

poem by Donna Nimmo
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Sleep Forever

Down I lie
Sleeping all day
Still asleep for years
Surrounded by tears
Of friends, relations and further
But still sleep, sleep and sleep forever.

My eyes all closed extremely shut
My body is dry, straight and flat
As I lie in wooden house
Helpless like a dead mouse
Alone with no any other
As I sleep, sleep and sleep forever.

In my best black suit
My voice on mute
Waiting for the judgement
In a new environment
Coping with underground weather
As I sleep, sleep and sleep forever.

I've left all my worth
And ignored all my breath
Tell that I slept to each and every head
For that's a polite word to me as the dead
To come back I'll never
It's a sleep, sleep and sleep forever.

poem by Walani Ndhlovu
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Riding Together

For many, many days together
The wind blew steady from the East;
For many days hot grew the weather,
About the time of our Lady's Feast.

For many days we rode together,
Yet met we neither friend nor foe;
Hotter and clearer grew the weather,
Steadily did the East wind blow.

We saw the trees in the hot, bright weather,
Clear-cut, with shadows very black,
As freely we rode on together
With helms unlaced and bridles slack.

And often, as we rode together,
We, looking down the green-bank'd stream,
Saw flowers in the sunny weather,
And saw the bubble-making bream.

And in the night lay down together,
And hung above our heads the rood,
Or watch'd night-long in the dewy weather,
The while the moon did watch the wood.

Our spears stood bright and thick together,
Straight out the banners stream'd behind,
As we gallop'd on in the sunny weather,
With faces turn'd towards the wind.

Down sank our threescore spears together,
As thick we saw the pagans ride;
His eager face in the clear fresh weather,
Shone out that last time by my side.

Up the sweep of the bridge we dash'd together,
It rock'd to the crash of the meeting spears,
Down rain'd the buds of the dear spring weather,
The elm-tree flowers fell like tears.

There, as we roll'd and writhed together,
I threw my arms above my head,
For close by my side, in the lovely weather,
I saw him reel and fall back dead.

I and the slayer met together,
He waited the death-stroke there in his place,
With thoughts of death, in the lovely weather,
Gapingly mazed at my madden'd face.

Madly I fought as we fought together;
In vain: the little Christian band
The pagans drown'd, as in stormy weather
The river drowns low-lying land.

They bound my blood-stain'd hands together,
They bound his corpse to nod by my side:
Then on we rode, in the bright March weather,
With clash of cymbals did we ride.

We ride no more, no more together;
My prison-bars are thick and strong,
I take no heed of any weather,
The sweet Saints grant I live not long.

poem by William Morris
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Growing Old

Little by little the year grows old,
The red leaves drop from the maple boughs;
The sun grows dim, and the winds blow cold,
Down from the distant arctic seas.

Out of the skies the soft light dies,
And the shadows of autumn come creeping over,
And the bee and the bird are no longer heard
In grove or meadow, or field of clover.

Little by little our lives grow old,
Our faces no longer are fair to see;
For gray creeps into the curls of gold,
And the red fades out of the cheeks, ah me!

And the birds that sang till our heart strings rang
With strains of hope, and joy, and pleasure,
Have flown away; and our hearts today
Hear only the weird wind's solemn measure.

Youth and summer, and beauty and bloom,
Droop and die in the autumn weather,
But up from the gloom of the winter's tomb,
They shall rise, in God's good time, together.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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The Drab Splendor Of A Gargoyle

The dark came generously
with storm-troubled wings
The stars are all quelled
and the wind hangs purposelessly
There is a streak of verdigris
on the cicatrizing vault
A corolla of change dangles,
a shifting moon unfolds
and my imposition remained
a lackluster glacial metal

The weather was still as gold
and voracious as greedy kings
the crooked hands of the day
basked in luxurious rendezvous
Whilst I dreamed in hues of gray
weaving poems to the blasé moon
stitching the tatterdemalion tapestry
that mantled the ailing wounds
I found myself waiting
in front of a riddling mirror
with words unspoken off

If you knock, it will echo
If you burst, it will find tempo
My penetralium convalesced
nauseated from a peremptory vertigo
and my wallflower's petals
are paper-thin no more
thorns spangled its sleep
because it will never uncurl
under the searchlight's whim

I picked the felled letters
harried by the erratic gyration
of the ponderous atmosphere
I watched it turn to ash
as lips burned from their harangue
but the lions remain asleep
with the phantoms of their dens
and everything passed by
with deaf-mute miscalculations

To slur in the banquet
of manifold palettes
is a one-way ticket
for a subtle gargoyle
watching cold fountains
rise and fall, dance and topple
and on the gray clouds
lambently walk without
leaving scars and without
knotting prostate ties

Tonight, I rivet back
into the walls of my cathedral -
A pivoting turret that hisses
for the giant's intimidations.

poem by Norman Santos
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A Silly Love Poem

Come hither,
Come hither my love
When the infant sun shines
And promises a sunny weather.
Come hither. Come hither...

Come hither,
Come hither my love
When the moon beams
In the company of multitude
And she promises a beam-soaked weather.
Come hither. Come hither...

Come hither,
Come hither my love
When the spring sets in
With a fragrant fanfare
And sensuous is the weather,
Come hither. Come hither...

Come hither,
Come hither my love
When the clouds run errands
For their master and
When lightening is the harbinger
And lively is the weather,
Come hither. Come hither...

Come hither,
Come hither my love
When autumn makes me lonely
In the soul of my creative pang
Be my soul-mate all-weather,
And come hither. Come hither...

poem by Arkay Drk
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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En.Citatepedia®.ro

Kites

Related quotes

The Kiteflier

Blame The Weather

Blame The Weather

Drown

Meanwhile

Living Leaves

A Poet Not

Let Kites Fly

The Kites

Papper Birds

As the ink begins to run...! ! ! ! ! ! !

Pirouetting Autumn

Fever

Confused Atmosphere

My Hurricane Panic Attacks

Sleep Forever

Riding Together

Growing Old

The Drab Splendor Of A Gargoyle

A Silly Love Poem

En.Citatepedia^®.ro