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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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Kiss The Dawn
Loaded forecast on you
The pants are tight
You are ready to use
Searching for some trouble
Whos gonna be the one
And try to feed your hunger
Empty eyes
Leading your own sorrow
None to get on
None to roll over this night honey
The lavatory is open
As you blocked his head away
Twenty-one is such a good number
Conversation lost its weight anyway
We are walking on a thin line
No you better stay away from this
And shut your mug
And read my lips
We are just kids
Do you talk to me
Pull the string
So I can be a doll
You wont cover me up
Cause Im the girl who kisses the dawn
Kiss the dawn
Kiss the dawn
Rebel mad and broken
Why do you throw your days away
Twenty-one was not a good number
Conversation lost its hate anyway
You are walking on a thin line
And you better avoid the risk
So shut your mug
And read my lips
We are just kids
Do you talk to me
Pull the string
So I can be your doll
You wont cover me up
Cause Im the girl who kisses the dawn
Dont you talk to me
Pull the string
Dont want to be your doll
You wont cover me up
Because Im the girl who eats the scrub
song performed by by Guano Apes
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In The Garden A Bright Day
i shall miss the time when i go out of the house
and close the door behind me
when i shall tread upon the grass in the garden
stretch my arms
run and fly my own kite
as i hold strongly upon said
string
when i decide to let the kite go
and find it no more from my sight
when i stop under the shade of the trees
and look far
into the hills below where houses
look like
tiny cubes
when the sea is so blue extending into nowhere
when i lose myself
when i close my eyes
when i dream that i can be happy with myself
alone
without the mob
that tends to confuse my thoughts
and replace them
with their own.
it is a bright day and the garden blooms
there is no cause for worry
no sadness
i'll make it perfect somehow
today.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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How Do We Write Happiness?
hair blown by the wind the two of us in the morning meadows
laughing and light as the air that carries us to the sea
you hold my hand you lead me you pull the kite with you
colors of blue and white spreading in the skies
you tie the kite on a tree and we lay ourselves on the grass
softness is you and my heart beats the notes of our love song
we sit side by side we feel we own this wide world
we hear the birds sing we listen to the flow of the river
we see how free are the fish riding on the currents
we look at each other's eyes, then we by instinct close
what was once open, we go inside us, gently our lips touch
there is so much color when our eyes closed
it tastes so sweet that our souls are like tongues licking
the sweetest honey on our skins on our whole bodies
we write happiness not in the usual words that they use
the ink is invisible the pen moves not with the hand but
with the heart with the soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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360
hair blown by the wind the two of us in the morning meadows
laughing and light as the air that carries us to the sea
you hold my hand you lead me you pull the kite with you
colors of blue and white spreading in the skies
you tie the kite on a tree and we lay ourselves on the grass
softness is you and my heart beats the notes of our love song
we sit side by side we feel we own this wide world
we hear the birds sing we listen to the flow of the river
we see how free are the fish riding on the currents
we look at each other's eyes, then we by instinct close
what was once open, we go inside us, gently our lips touch
there is so much color when our eyes closed
it tastes so sweet that our souls are like tongues licking
the sweetest honey on our skins on our whole bodies
we write happiness not in the usual words that they use
the ink is invisible the pen moves not with the hand but
with the heart with the soul
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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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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Mowgli's Brothers
Now Chil the Kite brings home the night
That Mang the Bat sets free--
The herds are shut in byre and hut,
For loosed till dawn are we.
This is the hour of pride and power,
Talon and tush and claw.
Oh, hear the call!--Good hunting all
That keep the Jungle Law!
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Heart on a String
This morning, I chose life
Summer is gone
with her she has taken my seaside dreams
I stood too long at the shore
in the moonlight
I let the falling stars
find their way into my eyes
and the reflection there was blinding
All I could do was listen
...to the rolling surf as it covered me
...to the song an August breeze played in the highest branches
My heart a kite at the end of a weathered string
And when the string broke.....
All I heard was the laughter of the Gods
poem by Gainor Ventresco Laney
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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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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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A year ago today, the 9/11 poem
It was a year ago today
Twin towers built of steel and stone
Still stood beside the water’s edge
To greet the final morning dawn
It was a year ago today
Some Saudi’s bent on suicide
Commandeered a flock of planes
And human reason crucified
It was a year ago today
That wingless angels sought to fly
From the upper stories strewn with glass
To flee the fires of hell they tried
It was a year ago today
When dust and darkness reigned at noon
As glaring spotlights pierced the night
Stone by stone we searched the ruins
The year has past as it always must
3000 people now but dust
But should you come to walk Ground Zero
Tread lightly on the stuff of heroes.
poem by John F. McCullagh
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