Perception!
When I say what that flies in the sky is a joyful bird,
Someone says that it is a kite with glass and glue thread,
Another one says that it is an airplane with ambitious loads,
But the last one says that it is his dreams, not yet down loaded.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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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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If you take one rivet out of an airplane, it will be all right, it'll keep flying. You take another rivet out of the airplane and it still flies. So what the heck, let's take more rivets out of the airplane, and sooner or later, the airplane drops from the sky.
quote by Ted Danson
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Icon
(music: marillion lyrics: steve hogarth)
Even if the good old days were good
Even if the old days were golden days
The past is a terrible place to live
Misguided missiles, skin creams and cars
Loaded with dreams, pretty faces Im loaded with stories
Im loaded with dreams
Loaded with ambition
Im loaded with live ammunitions
Saving up for linda, saving up for pam
Saving up for naomi, I can therefore I am
Savin up for mary, savin up for jane
1000 pieces all over the room
Lets do it again
Icon therefore I am
Loaded with dreams, loaded with life
I only wish you knew
How hard it is for me to spare
This kind of thing with you
And if you sense a smokesceen here
A trick of dry ice
song performed by by Marillion
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I want to fly!
yes, you do.
where do you want to go?
i am looking for a new home
how does one grow wings?
i want to fly...
it is the most quiet conversation.
the man begs to understand
why the mouth he is blest with does not take the shape of a beak.
the bird sings of many lands
the man has not yet been to
the little brown bird's heart is a ray of sun
but the man does not know
inside the wars are all in the making
outside it is still calm
the bird and the man kiss
the bird flies
the man falls asleep
the man flies
the bird is dead.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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A Poem Of Syntax
A poet and his bird, his dog, his cat and his tree
A poet and the bird in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree
A poet and his dog in the tree and the wind and the cloud
The bird in the tree, the dog in the tree, the cat in the tree,
The bird in the tree, the dog on the tree, the cat under the tree,
The bird on the tree, the bird in a tree, a bird in a tree, a bird in the tree,
And the wind and the cloud and the poet and his dog and his cat and the tree
The dog chases the cat the cat chases the bird
And they all arrive in that tree
Where the poet is sitting under that tree
The poet takes the dog and the cat was envious
And the bird looks at them in silence
The silence looks at the poet in the eye
Of the cat and the bird flies away
The poet and the dog is the poem of friendship
The cat and the dog is the poem of the endless natural quarrels
And the bird that flies away against the cat and the dog and the poet and the tree
And flies against the wind that the bird is now fighting
And the clouds that seem so blue and blue
The bird that actually flies away
Is actually me
I was not the poet with the dog
I am not the tree I am not the wind I am not the cloud I am not the poet there who had a dog as friend and I was not the quarrelsome thing from the blue and out of the blue
I am the bird with wings and I always fly away to places
Against the wind to places where I can be as always be the bird with wings in silence
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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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To a Sleeping Child
Lips, lips, open!
Up comes a little bird that lives inside
Up comes a little bird, and peeps, and out he flies.
All the day he sits inside, and sometimes he sings,
Up he comes, and out he goes at night to spread his wings.
Little bird, little bird, whither will you go?
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Little bird, little bird, whither do you flee?
Far away around the world, while nobody can see.
Little bird, little bird, how long will you roam?
All round the world and around again home;
Round the round world, and back through the air,
When the morning comes, the little bird is there.
Back comes the little bird and looks and in he flies,
Up wakes the little boy, and opens both his eyes.
Sleep, sleep, little boy, little bird’s away,
Little bird will come again, by the peep of day;
Sleep, little boy, the little bird must go
Round about the world, while nobody can know.
Sleep, sleep sound, little bird goes round,
Round and round he goes; sleep, sleep sound.
poem by Arthur Hugh Clough
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Hand Me Your Dreams
You have dreams
Suspended, deferred,
Unfulfilled, you still keep
Them without hope
I am here, tell me your
Dreams, hold them like
Delicate glass
Or white egg
Hand them to me
I will wrap them
With this silk
And tie them with
This golden thread
Away from the
Wicked eyes of the world
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Bird Came Down The Walk
bird fun, they are all up there
drizzle, the row of little robins on the wire
a lost bee flying by, takes a round and flies off,
bird fun, a little kite gliding chirping
a sentinel for female kite
hatching its young in the trees
bird fun, they are all down there
a white energetic scintillating dove
after the rain cleaning itself in a puddle
sprinkling off the water
inches its head in and out of water
quick and skillful as a roman prince in his bath
bird fun, they are all down here
a drowsy cockroach on the sundry shop verandah
snapped up by the sharp-eyed little sparrow
flew in, snapped and went without a care of the world
bird fun, they are all in the trees
the little colourful bird with
match size curved beak
hopping, looking for hawthorns
other flocks had patronised
and me....feeling guilty like a thief
that i am too trying to share its hawthorns
inspired by
A Bird came down the Walk
A Bird came down the Walk—
He did not know I saw—
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,
And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass—
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroa—
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought—
He stirred his velvet head
Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home—
Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam—
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon,
Leap, plashless as they swim.
Emily Dickinson
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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Windfall matters for greatness.
To lift a kite above the ground
There must be, close to the ground,
A swift of air and a tilt of the kite.
Then it flies on the wind’s might.
The wind is the cause for the height,
To which the able had his flight.
The great, your skills alone are not the cause.
29.05.2001, Berhampur
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Doomed—regard the Sunrise
294
The Doomed—regard the Sunrise
With different Delight—
Because—when next it burns abroad
They doubt to witness it—
The Man—to die—tomorrow—
Harks for the Meadow Bird—
Because its Music stirs the Axe
That clamors for his head—
Joyful—to whom the Sunrise
Precedes Enamored—Day—
Joyful—for whom the Meadow Bird
Has ought but Elegy!
poem by Emily Dickinson
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Airplane
Up on the airplane
Nearer my God to thee
I start making a deal
Inspired by gravity
If I did wrong I wont do it again
Cause I can be sweet and good and nice
And if I had enemies their friends
Ill hold to my life with the grip of a vice
And Im up on the airplane
Nearer my God to thee
I start making a deal
Inspired by gravity
That little spot on the ground is my hometown
I like to call it my home and its sweet
Id rather take a seat down there
Than a throne up here up above 30,000 feet
And Im up on the airplane
I never should have read my horoscope
Or the fortune on the bubble strip
Saying what you think wont happen will
A great thing to read before a trip
On an airplane
Pilot says the big blue skys like a swimming pool
Big fluffy clouds like a feather bed
Id rather have a real pillow underneath my head
Lying in my bed which is in my hometown
Which is on the ground
Far from an airplane
(my bed my hometown)
Far from an airplane
(on the ground my bed my hometown)
Far from an airplane
(on the ground my bed my hometown)
On the airplane
(on the ground)
[Ill be making a deal]
On the airplane
(on the ground)
[Ill be making a deal]
On the airplane
[Ill be making a deal]
[Ill be making a deal]
[Ill be making a deal]
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Rising dreams
Dreams!
My delicate dreams!
Woven with the tender threads of love,
Bound with the glue of belief.
When collide,
Break down
Into shears and shreads.
A thousand of them!
Each bit a tiny momento
Of time.
Each bit a priceless memory
Difficult to unwind.
I mourn,
My thousand tears
And bury them
Deep somewhere in my heart.
My heart,
Cemetery of my dreams.
My dreams,
Born a thousand lives
Dying a thousand deaths.
My delicate dreams
Woven with the threads of love
Bound with the glue of belief.
And
To my weirdest surprise
I see them rise
From thousand broken shears
From thousand broken shreds
With smile in their lips
Hope in their brows
They rise
Weaving together the threads of love
Bonding with the glue of belief.
Yes! They rise
My dreams They rise.-anjali
poem by Anjali Kakati
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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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