Long Flying a kite Poems
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It’s Friday again
It’s Friday again and old soup is asleep
Slumbering, dreaming and snoring so deep
Or maybe out shopping, a new pair of shoes
A purse or a tie or whatever they choose
Perhaps they are climbing the side of hill
Their head in the clouds always comes as a thrill
Or out in the yard with their daisies and roses
A camera in hand in case anyone poses
Just maybe their driving somewhere in their car
Staying quite close or discovering far
I guess they could all be out eating their lunch
I’m not sure of that, it is more of a hunch
They could be out golfing or skiing I guess
Though ask them and I’m sure they will not confess
Maybe the dentist, a tooth that does ache
Out at a barbque eating a steak
Flying a kite or out rowing a boat
It’s way past the day they allow us to vote
Riding a train across rickety tracks
Pressing their shirts and then pressing their slacks
Something has happened, of that I am sure
There’s nobody hanging ‘round soup anymore
I know it is Friday and always the same
Only a few diehard poets remain
Man it's boring around here on Fridays
March 10, 2019 - Daylight Saving Time Starts
The homey nimble storied wisdom of
Benjamin Franklin still
admired during hour time,
especially noteworthy, for slime
molds, the second Sunday of March,
when theft linkedin with
(Ides say) most innocuous crime
re: stealth of precious sixty minutes, hence
a flash in the pan idea to expound rhyme,
which notional whim came like bolt of lightning,
while daydreaming 'bout (what else...but)
flying a kite during stormy (Daniels) clime.
thus, once again twilight
takes quantum leap
forward hut, our humble keep
sake hour hand of time
grudgingly advances without beep
ping, ewe know who of little lamb fame,
what with barely audible lil bo peep
predicated, asper in taking away thirty six
hundred seconds of sleep
subsequently marking
second Sunday when e'er deep
into Lion of winter month o' March rolls
around with least amount by Dickens
plaintively asking Uriah Heep
to crank up AC/DC dirty
Harry deed done dirt cheap
cuz, this tradition of sorts
supposedly doth reap
economic benefits plus
Circadian rhythm less steep
difference with contrivance
issuing Whatsapp hapt'n when leap
pin lizards such Iam
motioning carillon to alternate between
sepulchral and refulgent chime
creating less discordant
dilly dally dichotomy
reverberates all the way to Siam,
while aye blithely tapped out here
yours truly 'ere at his Schwenksville heim
taking poetic life (in hour hand)
liberty at pursuit this prime
mate takes to hash feeble
verse to eke out a dime
probably more realistic for me
to ply blimey hands with grime,
now suddenly bedeviled what to do
soundlessly communicating woe
whiz mere (mein kampf),
sans displaying mime
as a last ditch effort before time
to call quits with this futile rhyme.
I need you in my arms
I need you by my side
I will cause you no harm
Understand my pain
"Only in this lifetime"
Along this path
I was absorbed through misery
I became known as
What you all call today
An outcast
In all my words
What would make you think
You couldn’t come to me
I’ll do all I can for you
I have fallen from grace
So I can no longer adore truth
Right or wrong, for better or worse
I could never leave you without a home
I try to do more good than terrible
But these are times of Paine
And they make life unbearable
All kinds of suffrage in this living
Find someone to be there
Better times to envision
These overshadowing events
and circumstances
Shape us into the individuals
We might one day grow to be
You say you’re making it
I’ve grown to become a college brat
I too am surviving
Maybe one of us
Will one day relax upon a better day
Other than that
There’s no wishing this weather away
How can I be what was never taught
The personality I sold
Was the image you all bought
And if I don’t fare through the night
It doesn’t mean it wasn’t a fair fight
Days I could see myself
Through your eyes
As a child flying a kite
So smile things will be alright
In a stand still moment
You ran away from home
Ambitious and following
The wrong scent
In depth I think
So my thoughts
Seem to rush the children away
It’s not that I preach
But I can’t afford to lose
So I push the obvious Pilgrim away
Gone silent, visually awry
Awaiting an angel to call me
Witnessed my shadow
Fall not far from me
Sympathetic exposure
Amidst the thunder and clouds
Is it okay to wonder aloud
Did I bring us
The worst of you and me
On my knees
I need your arms around me once more
A pint of Evan Williams by my side
Did I become vulnerable
Me or you whom shall we grieve
Don’t you wish things were wonderful
On my last stance
Until then and perhaps
This old man’s back may collapse
Takes a breath, for he’s not leaving
He relapses and keeps breathing
Form:
For John Lawless
Paper Aeroplane Contest
14 August 2022
Every child at some point in their life
seeing someone fly a kite for the very
1st time
Will most probably later on that night
go to bed and say a prayer for one
of his or her very own
And who on earth amongst us wouldn't
want to know exactly what that must
feels like
To be the 1at the end pulling the string's
and therefore cotrolling the kite's flight
But for those unfortunate for whom
a kite they could only dream but never own
They had to make do with making
an aeroplane out of scrap's of paper
to fly upon a breeze
Hopefully 1 good enough with the right
trajectory of throw and a prevailing
headwind
Could end up flying so far away the
naked eye could no longer see
Then afterwards only bound by the
limit's of imagination and gift for
storytelling wondering where on
earth it went or ended up landing
Later instead of using paper to build
aeroplane out of began using it to write on
As with a head now so full of wonderment
akin to a child flying a kite dancing the breeze
Up and up so high so only downward can
see till so weightless nothing seemed impossible
Even writing poetry out of alphabetical soup
as now he not only had both the tools to do it
i.e paper and pen
He had also somehow gained and managed
to harnessed the the most important and
essential ingredient of all
The power of one's imagination that in
the 1st place is needed to make every
dream get off the ground in order so
they can take flight
If the truth should be told, you need to know a couple of things.
Everybody can step aside, because it's all about Me when the bell rings.
Oh, you can talk about colorful birds, big dogs, and monkies if you like.
And on a windy day, you can have all the fun you which, just flying a kite.
That is until you take a look at Me with my head out the window and
the wind at my back, and I'm enjoying a country ride with my master Jack.
You can see the mountain behind us and blue skies above my shaggy head.
I know that you are wondering why we did not bring my brother Ted.
Why the very simple answer to that question is, 'It's all about Me' today.
Rain is on the way, but it's a warm and sunny day in the month of May.
If the truth should be told, I must say, every day is really all about Me.
That's why I'm constantly on the road, because I have a lot of worlds to see.
051020PSCtest, Pantoum Rhyme and Personification, Eve Roper. Photo #2
I remember waiting at the garden gate so filled with joy
Waiting for my hero to come and picks us up -i was just a boy
We only saw you on the weekends through no fault of your own
I knew you would always be there ,you would never have left us alone
Those summer days when you would take us away
I remember them as if they were yesterday
Walking through the fields, climbing the hills
Playing in the sea, flying a kite as far as the eye can see
The caravan holidays playing in the arcades
So many memories no one can take away
The fun fair rides that would take me up high
Seeing you laughing as i went whooshing by
I remember sitting on the dodgems laughing as we bumped into each other
Thinking to myself how lucky i am to have you as my father
Christmas mornings waiting for you to come over
Not wanting to open our presents untill we were all together
Sundays all around nans for tea
Setting of the fireworks i would watch from under the big tree
We went to the cinema i had to lie about my age
I hope these great memories i have never fade
Two old ladies sitting in the sun there skirts up to there knees
You brought them both an ice cream they turned and smiled at me
Those long days spent together fishing
Running up the canal laughing because you had fallen in
So many memories i have
I'm so glad to have you as my dad
You worked so hard to give us kids a good start
I will always love you from the bottom of my heart
Laughter, smiles, running about, learning what flying a kite high above the clear blue sky, making sand castles in the warm sand, running through sprinklers in the hot july sun.
These are some of the warm fun things that all children are about, eating hot dogs, snow cones, ice cream cones, wandering about without a care in the world.
NOt worrying about who does or doesnt like their clothes, if they get picked last for a game. If society accepts them for who they are, children are like birds, they may be able to fly higher than others, but they are all part of our world, and they all have their special place in our lives, and their own special beauty that deserves to be seen.
THey are our future, how special they are and if they smile, laugh or have tears falling down their face, its in our hands, how we see them, is up to us..
Parenting is like flying a kite…you do an awful lot of running around
using every breath you have to get your children up off the ground.
And you never feel prouder…remember how you grinned
The first time you saw your children fly…
the first time they caught the wind?
For you knew you’d helped them off the ground…
you helped them find their wings
and you knew, though they were up there flying,
you still controlled the string.
And when you realized they were good fliers.
when you finally had no doubt
Slowly…gently…lovingly…you let more and more string out.
And you kept letting string out…and they flew so high in the air
that you could barely see them…but you could feel they were there.
Until the day you understood just how high they’d flown
so you cut the string and smiled as you watched them fly off on their own.
Hoping that…wherever they go…in whatever they may do
every now and the the winds…will carry them back to you.
Hoping they know whatever joys or heartaches their life up there will bring
you will always be down here…
and you will always have more string.
was sitting in a crowd but felt so all alone
No communication, everyone staring at their phone
I just wanted to return to the life that I had tasted
No more electronic robots, I guess I'm technology wasted
Back to Bobbi socks and bobbi pins
Big hellos and happy grins
Culottes an pedal pushers, Friday night dances
Back seat in the drive in, teenage romances
At the amusement park in the penny arcade
Ferris wheel rides and pink lemonade
Walk hand in hand, sometimes act like a fool
Talk to each other as you carry her books home from school
Up in the balcony with your hands on her hips
New worlds to discover, lips touching lips
Yelling from the sidewalk can Jim come out to play
Riding down a hill while standing on a sleigh
Hanging from monkey bars, climb a tree in the park
Playing ball in the street until it was dark
Roasting potatoes on a campfire at night
Running and laughing while flying a kite
The smell of a bakery with bread baking at dawn
Lying in the grass, transistor radio on
Cotton candy at the County Fair
Butch wax or Brylcreem to train your hair
Flying high on a swing and then jumping down
Medicine show at the end of town
Picking blueberries for grandma's pies
Watching Old Yeller with tears in your eyes
At the drug store for a burger and shake
Skimming stones across the lake
Hot dogs and hamburgers on the old grill
Chase tag, hop scotch and King of the hill
Hang at the diner everyday after school
Meeting your friends at the community pool
Yes, take me back where talk wasn't a crime
Take me back to a simpler time
For all this complexity. I don't give a damn
Technology wasted is what I am.
The blue mood of silence, is there on the screen
Not a whisper, no dialogue, just a hum that is found
A celluloid reel, spinning backwards in time
while flickering shadows, has hushed all the stars
that watch through a curtain, while marking the years
The soft ocean breezes are catching your hair.
It frolics, embracing the blue dress you wear
You are running barefoot along the incoming tide
The beach is as smooth as the silk of your skin
You are flying a kite in the swift summer sky
You raise up your arm, and are waving at me
A smile on your mouth, and a star in your eyes
I can almost hear whispers, that come from afar
shattering silence, without any sound
The joy of it falls through the long winter years....
In voiceless, vague memory, to rest on my ears
I follow along...as I'm watching you play
Your lips ever moving....what is it you say?
I find myself reaching... still, wanting to catch
to set a small trap...and reach into the past
I can't hear the chords,....nor the score to your song
Or music I long for.....that is kept by the stars
But, here in the heart of this moment, I grasp
Like the kite reaching higher....while piercing the sky
Weaving a magic...where joy never dies
I watch how you hold to that kite in the sky...
and cross over the threshold....no questions to ask...
You've thrown a last kiss.....that I reach out to catch
And for a moment together, .... we are touching the stars....
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