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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Unfettered Kite
Permit the effervescence of the wind
To don on your dishabille glacial shoulders
And take you in a sailing apt for your besieging
To an island heaving of palm trees
Swaying and combing of forking possibilities
Chances are, well, ineffable they are
And I cannot paint it with words
Because my palette is dull and eroded
But I know and I submit to believing
That chance will guide you in, by your elbow
To a promenade, a cavalcade, or a castle
Where no eyes had ever been to musing
Not even conception can even pry in
So leave this undulant slumber
And sear past the poignant clouds
Because you cannot be tethered in a ground
In the semblance of an effulgent specter
Invisible, lingering and malingering
To twine and string your unfathomable fate
And as you submit and remit
The jewels that shall permit
A key towards emanation
Of greater chances, in greater grounds
I shall heave you back difficultly
When I stare back at your backward glances
Yet I will endure and pull your emollient string
So you would only set off farther
Yonder the aptitude of your strings
Past the inclement horizon
Floundering past my aqueous vision
And I shall unstring you willingly,
My unfettered kite
And sedate myself with vicarious oblivion
As I muse upon the turgid azure skies
That you dominated like an adroit bird
With the aroma of yuletide breeze
And pantomimic carols tinkering
On the rustling and toppling leaves
Of the gyratory December, the last 31st
Of the first last year, and I will be,
Myself, an unfettered kite
As I lay in solitude and jealousy
Unfettered from the very start
And when the wind blows upon my spine
With no hands to pull back my strings,
No one to point the nonexistent escape door,
Fended by blithe despondent fingers
Of another egotistic specter in a ballet
Beneath the melody of her own canopy
I am left with no other submission
But be taken to my bereavement
And not to the island of chances
For I am a hapless, flightless,
Unfettered kite.
poem by Norman Santos
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Message To B.
you break the cordon
i try to reconnect
but you have decided
to break it just the same
i do not force myself
i am the uninvited but
i am not at fault
it is you
and so what time
shall i waste
again with you?
precious things are lost
not mea culpa
relationships are broken
not mea culpa
i am back to the hills of
my childhood
flying kites
picking pebbles
and
catching cold.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
They do not leave home without American Express. ... Blame the moral carelessness that parents pass off as the gift of freedom as they cut their children loose like colorful kites and wish them an exciting flight.
quote by Roger Rosenblatt
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Were In This Together
Ive become impossible
Holding on to when
When everything seemed to matter more
The two of us
All used and beaten up
Watching fate as it flows down the path we have chose
You and me
Were in this together now
None of them can stop us now
We will make it through somehow
You and me
If the world should break in two
Until the very end of me
Until the very end of you
Awake to the sound as they peel apart the skin
They pick and they pull
Trying to get their fingers in
Well theyve got to kill what we found
Well theyve got to hate what they fear
Well theyve got to make it go away
Well theyve got to make it disappear
The farther I fall Im beside you
As lost as I get I will find you
The deeper the wound Im inside you
For ever and ever I am a part of
You and me
Were in this together now
None of them can stop us now
We will make it through some how
You and me
If the world should break in two
Until the very end of me
Until the very end of you
All that we were is gone we have to hold on
When all our hope is gone we have to hold on
All that we were is gone but we can hold on
You and me
Were in this together now
None of them can stop us now
We will make it through somehow
You and me
Even after everything
Youre the queen and Im the king
Nothing else means anything
song performed by by Nine Inch Nails
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Lost To Find My Lot
Lost in a world, that scares me to death,
Lost in a crowd I’m losing my breath,
Lost as a kid, lost as an adult
I feel everything is falling apart and its my fault
Lost as a person, cant find my way
Lost in life every day, Lost in worry
Who am I?
I’ve lived a Lie
Lost to Kindness,
Lost to Love
Lost in the sky,
Like a lonely dove
Lost in thought which I shouldn’t do
It Winds me up,
I can’t get through
Lost to comfort all kind words
Lost to advice that isn’t heard
Lost to those who really care?
All these people always there
Lost in Me, I need a break
Lost in wonder which road should I take?
Lost in a place I don’t know well
Where are you now? There’s no one to tell
Lost here all alone To break these walls
Lost in mind
Lost in soul
Lost memories, there just a hole
Lost family, lost my place
Still yet I’m full of hate
Lost in boredom think I’ll leave
There’s a lot in life I need to achieve
poem by Olivia Braun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Reminder for Myself...
erasing the past
is like burning the pages of your diary
the smoke hurts a while
but
soon you begin to write your own future
another page
another stroke of the pen
that sometimes we admire because it is nicer now
there will always be a difference
until you tear the pages again
crumple them
and let them go
sometimes i think
i need to make paper planes
or perhaps kites
and so i need some strings
some bamboo sticks
for bones
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Tired
I am tired to-night, and something,
The wind maybe, or the rain,
Or the cry of a bird in the copse outside,
Has brought back the past and its pain.
And I feel as I sit here thinking,
That the hand of a dead old June
Has reached out hold of my heart’s loose strings,
And is drawing them up in tune.
I am tired to-night, and I miss you,
And long for you, love, through tears;
And it seems but to-day that I saw you go –
You, who have been gone for years.
And I seem to be newly lonely –
I, who am so much alone;
And the strings of my heart are well in tune,
But they have not the same old tone.
I am tired; and that old sorrow
Sweeps down the bed of my soul,
As a turbulent river might suddenly break
Away from a dam’s control.
It beareth a wreck on its bosom,
A wreck with a snow-white sail,
And the hand on my heart-strings thrums away,
But they only respond with a wail.
poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Butterflies And Kites...Goodnight
Balloons on strings,
Sailing, bouncing June
Into July kites skimming
Tails like afternoon
Mosquito hawks on quiet
Water. There! The butterfly
Making its rounds of
Moonflowers' snow petals
Enticing emerald hummingbirds,
Giant moths soundlessly
Fluttering topaz and ruby
Wings. Again! The butterfly
Dips, bobs angel-blue wings.
Balloons, kites, put away
For the night. Hummingbirds,
Butterflies vanish....
There is peace....
poem by Elysabeth Faslund
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Evening Flight
The lemon lady fingers of the sun
Lay ribbons of pale mercy on the cold.
Silk birds like kites lift dreams as high as smoke.
The music of the moment lives on hope.
Gray roofs are steeping thickly to the west.
Snow flakes like ghosts fall softly through the mind.
I feel the shelter of your shadow hand
Stroking my trembling wings for evening flight.
Previously published: Paris/Atlantic, France
poem by Sandra Fowler
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Fitzsimmons Returns
The mirror never lies,
Your mother said.
You look in it now,
The mirror reflects
You in the midst
Of half way dressing.
You hold the green
Corset strings, waiting
For the maid Fitzsimmons.
You’ve rung for her twice.
No sight of her or sound.
Been busy, she’ll say,
Have other things to do
Other than run around
After you. And she’ll say it
In that Irish tongue of hers,
With her deep blue eyes
Peering into your eyes
As if she sought your soul.
You fidget. Pull the strings.
Stare in the large mirror.
She’s done your hair
Nice enough as she can
And does, then ran off
To the ring of some bell
From some other quarter.
You pull the strings tighter.
Breath in, pull even tighter.
She even laid out the clothes,
Neatly as she does; shoes
Polished to a bright shine.
You stiffen and listen.
A loud voice bellows
Down the passage;
The canaries in the cage,
Take flight in fright.
Fitzsimmons returns,
The passage vibrates.
Your thin fingers hold
The green corsets strings,
They visibly shake,
The maid is coming,
She sings, the swish
Of her stiff black dress,
You gaze in the mirror,
See eyes and hair
And a touch of fear
Burning there.
poem by Terry Collett
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Winters Sun
Winters pall dims the vestiges of autumn gone,
lost the laughter and the sun, families fled
past the eyes of those past, replaced by barren sun.
Mundanity dulls the keenest edge, (re) casts
playact in imports stead, each actor caught in
winters pall, dims the vestiges of autumn gone.
In heady, early days, blushing glance was enough
to hold, then break, the rhythm of the dreary drum.
Past the eyes of those past, replaced by barren sun,
each generation caricatured, first by writers pen,
then realigned by victors gun; the awful chill of
winters pall dims the vestiges of autumn. Gone,
the comfort in a hug, entwined hands: now undone,
voices held on memories breadth, fade away into the
past. The eyes of those past, replaced by barren sun,
sightless, gaping - cast amongst the great undone, stories
raise them from the depths, before letting go into the
winters pall, dims the vestiges of autumn gone
past the eyes of those past - replaced by barren sun.
poem by Christopher Withers
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When to her Lute Corinna Sings
When to her lute Corinna sings,
Her voice revives the leaden strings,
And doth in highest notes appear,
As any challenged echo clear;
But when she doth of mourning speak,
E'en with her sighs, the strings do break,
And as her lute doth live or die,
Led by her passion, so must I:
For when of pleasure she doth sing,
My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring,
But if she doth of sorrow speak,
E'en from my heart the strings do break
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Corinna
When to her lute Corinna sings,
Her voice revives the leaden strings,
And doth in highest notes appear
As any challenged echo clear.
But when she doth of mourning speak,
Even with her sighs the strings do break.
And as her lute doth live or die;
Led by her passion, so must I.
For when of pleasure she doth sing,
My thoughts enjoy a sudden spring;
But if she doth of sorrow speak,
Even from my heart the strings do break.
poem by Thomas Campion
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sometimes When We Touch
(barry mann, dan hill)
You ask me if I love you
And I choke on my reply
Id rather hurt you honestly
Than mislead you with a lie
And who am I to judge you
In what you say or do
Im only just beginning
To see the real you
And sometimes when we touch
The honestys too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I want to hold you till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides
Romance and all its strategy
Leaves me battling with my pride
But through all the insecurity
Some tenderness survives
Im just another writer
Still trapped within my truth
A hesitant prize fighter
Still trapped within my youth
And sometimes when we touch
The honestys too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I want to hold you till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides
At times Id like to break you
And drive you to your knees
At times Id like to break through
And hold you endlessly
At times I understand you
And I know how hard you try
I watched while love commands you
And Ive watched love pass you by
At times I think were drifters
Still searching for a friend
A brother or a sister
But then the passion flares again
And sometimes when we touch
The honestys too much
And I have to close my eyes and hide
I want to hold ya till I die
Till we both break down and cry
I want to hold you till the fear in me subsides
Subsides
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
What Have You Done With The Stars
Wet with tears between clothespins you take them
Neatly ordering them on the wire
With thornful fingers
You take the blue towards your blood
You let them hang upside down
Like bats to watch over the night without the flight
Winglessly buried in the first breathing of the arch
Under which the day is breaking
Too shameful to break out
And offend with its light
Millions sleeping under the nightmare
We'll just sit here and wait
And sing and knit and sew
A child with silver hands
A child with golden eyes
A child with ruby hair
A child with diamond heart
Who can take them off the wire
And cast them back to the sky
The little kites with nothing but the wind
To show them the way back home
poem by Miroslava Odalovic
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
96
if i heave a sigh, what will i do with what i did not heave?
if i heave a sigh
into the air, and i keep some other more inside myself,
unconsumed, unspent,
what will i do with it?
keep it
like a secret in my closed fingers and pretend i am angry
with this clenched fist
when in truth i have nothing
no plan of keeping things that long because my arms
my soon go
into the river and be lost floating like a log from a hill?
i heave a sigh, that is enough relief,
i am emptied of something heavy
in my nose
i become an island losing air
but keeping sand and
stones
to keep my balance with the coconut trees
still
making landmarks to lost directions,
but it is my way of making my senses alive
i heave a sigh
and i want you to really hear it at a very close distance
just you and me
for you to know where i have situated myself
in this vast
nothingness,
i am here, touch me,
i am warm, i am fire,
you have been taking the forms of water
cold, damp,
having the face of the night, where the moon lost its light,
what are you doing to me?
i am taking you but you are the one taking me nowhere
i am lost by your promises
of a raft
i lost track of your waft, and here i am lost again as i
heave a sigh, deeper
this time....
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Used as kites, these rigid stable aeroplanes are superior to the very best cellular kites I can make; they are lighter, pull harder per square foot, attain a greater angle of elevation, and have fewer parts.
quote by Lawrence Hargrave
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!