Long Kite Poems
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Mistaken steps of lost array
Of broken branch and multi-colored stone façade
the pathway steals my outward glance
Winding through the cottage hills
like kite string freed by a strong wind, it spills
Patterns shadow in abstract array
through barbed wire and solid steel
barricades, creating menacing shapes,
criss-crossing narrow wheel ruts of long ago
Obstacles, of stead and stood,
branded in a wilting wood
directions carved to empty me of all I know as good
Within my chest sits a living compass,
beating my quest in a never ending melody,
sweet as creamed corn pie and pointing
towards the sun, which sits before me
two hills above the horizon on this new day
Temptation beckons over my right shoulder,
whistling in the breeze of delicious
offerings, and I do hunger
Take your glow of nectarines
Cool refreshing summer streams
For I shan’t waver, not an inch, her love calls in my dreams
Midday, as the solar glow finds my shoulders red
and sweat clings like life in dampened conclusions,
blisters form bringing the pain of decisions made before
and I would have it no other way, for this I deserve
Mountains faced of fractured stone break my crawl,
rubble sweeps my feet, as my knees bleed,
thirst speaks in the language of a long feared enemy,
yet I do not listen…
State your case in hammered stone
Tear my skin of broken bone
No tethered vines of loneliness shall sway me from my home
My shadow now waits before me, long and slender,
molded by dried weathered foot prints, my foot prints,
once heading a direction opposite my heart
Many years old yet still their outline remains as a warning,
When I see it, the lilac arbor, scented in old desires and
new in life, encasing a glow, melodies of gold finch song
as my eyes find your smile, an extended hand, a soft touch
I have found my way home, to you
Decisions made along the way
Mistaken steps of lost array
When found my every dream it longs within your arms to stay
When Aaron was
in mommy’s tummy
I was tiny, warm, happy and content
I felt the surprise at the news
and from day one felt loved
I heard Mommy’s singing
and daddy's voice
reactions to announcements
calling out different baby names
For the longest time I practiced
smiling
laughing
giggling
moving my arms and legs
sucking my thumb
doing somersaults
recognizing mommy's and daddy's voices
And I grew bigger and bigger
I dreamt about
playing with kittens
petting puppies
playing with goldfish and turtles
chasing butterflies
reaching out to the moon
playing with little friends
having bubblebaths
wearing silly clothes
playing with toys
falling asleep to lullabies
and bedtime stories
playdates at the park
learning to walk
learning to talk
learning my numbers and ABC's
climbing trees
flying my first kite
riding my first bike
touching and smelling flowers
my first Easter egg hunt
my first Christmas morning
I felt so much anticipation and love for my arrival
as mommy rocked me on the big chair by my crib
And then early one morning,
It was March 26, 2017
time to welcome little
Aaron Arthur Joseph Wicks
to the world
AP: 2nd place 2020
Santa brings toys much to children’s delight
la luna’s bright light guides him on his way
Nine reindeer pull the sleigh through the cold night
Guided by stars and the glow of moonlight
They’ll deliver presents for Christmas day
Santa brings toys much to children’s delight
Santa works quickly, he won’t get frostbite
Deep snow and ice won’t cause any delay
Nine reindeer pull the sleigh through the cold night
Children sleep; they won’t see the sleigh in flight
They’ve left some carrots and milk on a tray
Santa brings toys much to children’s delight
The ground’s covered with a blanket of white
Children wake, there’s toys with which they can play
Nine reindeer pull the sleigh through the cold night
Young Billy is thrilled with his brand new kite
He asks his parents why Santa can’t stay
Santa brings toys much to children’s delight
Nine reindeer pull the sleigh through the cold night
Deck the halls Villanelle Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
12/27/20
Mind, like a deciduous forest
has lost all its foliage,
all leaves torn away
by the autumnal blasts.
The brain where great schemes were concocted
is now an abyss where spiders sway
It is bare – dismally barren
of all memories – sweet and sour.
Like a kite afloat in the boundless sky
moving nowhere, but as the wind directs,
cut out from the past, turned from the present
with the future yet to surge from the abyss
or like serpents intertwining,
hissing in turmoil within the brain,
unable to sense the gusty blast,
or hear the whispering air,
dead to sounds that disturb,
deaf to songs that soothe,
like a phantom he moves weird,
drifting far away to a space and time impenetrable,
with nothing to make the mind agog
or depress it to let out a sigh.
Loitering on roads without hurrying feet,
with no bliss coming on the way
to run or hasten to embrace
or fear to be missed sore.
Passing through dark labyrinthine tunnels,
forever barred with no exit,
churned in oblivion, oblivious of all,
he remains a spectral facsimile
of his onetime self, plummeting into a black hole.
The pulse of a heart beat
is all that keeps him alive,
all else is dead…… !
He lives with dreary nights ahead,
that shall not know another morrow!
We are blessed to walk in nature where everyday her routine unfolds before our eyes
but every now and then we’re blessed when she gives us a surprise.
Each morning like clockwork thousands of crows set forth
crossing the sky just above us…as they head out south to north..
We usually hear them before we see them…in loud gatherings they fly
calling out to one another as they nonchalantly flutter by.
Today a strong wind was blowing which meant those intelligent crows
with an understanding of aerodynamics…would be flying rather low…
We watched them skimming neath the wind almost touching the water…
or just above the ground
and were amazed how this line of normally boisterous crows…never made a sound.
We could hear ropes hitting masts of ships in the marina
sounds the wind makes when she blows.
We could hear the waves crash upon the shore…
but we never heard the crows.
And when the crows are silent…when they’re as quiet as a kite
We are treated, in that silence, to the beauty of their flight.
Flying and talking to one another…the beauty of their harmony flows
but there is also quiet beauty in the silence of the crows.
Some of nature’s beauty is in her routines…
her nightly sunsets and daily sunrises
but every now and then she reminds us…
there is beauty in her surprises.
The ordinary water that she sips
transforms into a sparkling crimson juice
of cherries, cold and sweet, upon her lips.
The blues she sees are sapphire, greens, chartreuse,
and hardly does she know the color white,
for pearl or alabaster it appears.
The fog is lilac mist, and she’s a kite
that climbs the sky while loosing mundane fears.
Consumed by wind, she does not flag. Instead,
embracing zephyr, soars. Responses of
this mortal are not common. Served dry bread,
she’d name it manna sent her from above!
Half Pegasus, on wings of beauty borne,
her other half alights, a unicorn!
For the Screwed V Contest of Rob Carmack
All is not lost
Memories buried in my bosom
Are not yet dead
The plays, fads and foibles
Bubble in my heart
Giving me my precious self and
The chaste child of golden days
School, boys and teachers
Were the part of myself
As much as were the mango tress
And the secretly plucked fruits
The sly slips of the classes
And the clever excuses
Remind me of crafty endurance
Days full of quest and curiosity
Every moment learning new things
Preserving them in ceaseless memory
Bracing unwanted family intrusions
An undiminished soul
Always busy and demanding
A baby with eternal exuberance
Big dreams in the tiny heart
Days full of kites and
Paper-boats in rain-filled yard
Father’s scare and mother’s love
Stress of exams and results
Marching to school with heavy bags
Always eager for the last bell
The days blossomed into youth
Maturity and senility took over
Worries, conflicts and tensions
Replaced the bloom and joy
Desire to retrieve the gone days
Flimsy but soothing burns inside
And the life goes on
Under shade of heaven, exposing a cheerful firmament…
my special child, mirth-filled, basked with delight
since he had in his possession, freedom-might
precious more than gold for optimized play engagement.
Midst temperate weather, calmed by azure sky…
his boyish complexion welcomed sun-exposure
while his untrimmed hair found beach-pleasure
on that gracious vacation he had his kite fly high.
Frolicking in the sand after his gracious revival lease
my special child showed blissful praise-driven gratitude
moving my faith, like bud, to bloom with patience-fortitude
through God’s eternal* love while the Lord I seek to please.
*Jude 1:21 Keep yourselves in the love of God, looking for the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ unto eternal life.
August 2, 2019
4th place, "A Summer's Day Redo" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Michelle Faulkner; judged on 8/29/2019.
empty pond
we watched as the pond was pumped dry
the ducks gathered at the deepest part
as the pump did its thing
until even that water was sucked away
then they just stood in the wet clay
later
two mallards chased each other around an old oak tree
heads down disgruntled wings beating
the workmen sat among the trees smoking
and laughing at the birds
there were things in the pond
wriggling minnows
a few rubber balls
the skeleton of a faded red and yellow kite
one black sneaker
the pond floor began to smell bad in the midday sun
the men packed up their equipment
then left in a large white truck
the ducks waddled off to sit under some shade
they were waiting for something to happen
nothing did
~~~
Tale behind the kite
Black Butcher flying a kite by the hair comb by laugh laugh a breath taking breath hue dance up above the natural taste of food and resources of lively hood money is raining by clouds on earth happyness flowing by the cry with out a blood child jumping and learning how to understood the life cycle of religious matter puase for time about God hell and hell to deeds of heaven of knowledge butcher flying a kite been happy in un told nature of life running from up above the water and salt and precious little flowing kite for you by God bless us
With love all
Jagdish bajantri