What a pretty kite, with it’s rainbow stripes. I wish I could fly as high as the kite. It makes me feel like a child again, wild again – hopeful again. I see blue skies with that kite. I wish I could be there, with the kite. In the sky.
Kite the soarer and flight into fruition, the new ways are here and we are the children now, desperately, we grab onto what we thought we knew and how devastated do you feel? We hoped for many things, too many things but here we stand, staring at the ground, the leaves we’ve crushed along the way and we feel no remorse. What else is new? What else is known? There is a profound lackluster.
high as a kite do you hear me when i say i don’t need you to listen to me?
i wonder what it’s like to be as high up ad you to be in love with someone who loves me too.
I flew it around, all blue and pretty. It matched the sky, like a sapphire. I always played with it as a kid. In the rain, in the sun, in the wind, and even inside. I always loved that kite.
kites are stupid. ive never had one before. ive wondered what it’s like to use on, but it doesnt look like much fun. in the dominican republic there’s people who sell them on the street. Oh well’ that’s not really something you do in New York anyway.
a thing that you fly in the sky
high and low
wind catches its material and makes it be so beautiful
it is a thing that wind carry’s in the wind a kid can play with in the park
The kite was floating in the air. It never stopped. It just kept going. It didn’t care where it was going but it just knew that it didn’t ever want to stop. It floated up to the heavens and got trapped in the clouds and met an untimely death. It fell to the earth in a dead heap only to be resurrected by a little boy named Fred who took him in and loved him forever.
Strings flying through the air. Puffy white clouds above, and the string disappears into one. When the cloud moves away, you can see a dragon with an elderly woman gripping onto it for dear life. Despite how wrinkly she is, she has a lot of beauty and she is very vivacious.
weilding a massive kite shaped shield he rushed throught the throng of fighters as if propelled by the wind. Ripping through the flesh and vision he seemed to float in the clouds untouchable.
There once was a time when i was a little girl that I imagine I could pin myself to a kite and obtain the ability to fly. Luckily I never tried. However, I absolutely loved going to the park and watching all the kites flying in the sky. They ranged in size, shape, and color. I loved it.
There was another time when i was in China and was able to witness a dragon kite flying contest. These kites were made of sturdier material that was strong enough to hold man. My dream came true after all.
The kite flew far above their heads as they walked hand in hand through the field. This was the last time they were to be together, for she was flying away from him, like the kite.
i fly the kite in the morning with the arabs on brighton beach. the kites are black and sexy and i wish i could fly them when i was a baby. KITES ARE DEVILISH BEINGS. i need to be exorcised. that word is spelled wrong. FUCK NO TIME. no timee for zee bombs
Long hours spent in the night trailing giants, griffins, and sundry other beasts behind me in a thin trail, through the sunlight days and dark nights of the fantasy world, in an endless loop of time.
When I was a child my dad taught me how to make a kite. He was always patient when he taught me new things, and I always enjoyed learning from him. We spent hours making kites of all shapes and sizes
Go fly a kite. I wanted to say F off, but my mama raised me better, so I exclaimed at the top of my lungs in the lunchroom filled with fellow prepubescent teenagers, go fly a kite. No wonder I sit by myself.
I like to fly kites.
I have always loved it.
I used to talk to my kites when I flew them, as though they were my friends.
Now, I wonder if the kites fly us. Perhaps they decide that they want to go into the sky and watch us run, looking down on us and laughing much the same way we do at them on a windy day.
Perhaps we have much in common with kites.
And as i opened my eyes…a tiny red kite flew into my vision and i thought… man, the world is just one small place. i am one small person…. we’re all just fighting for survival.
I was high as a kite on the evening of the concert. ZZ Top was performing with Joe Walsh and I was so ready to party. The year was 1974 and I was at the concert with my new boyfriend and some other buddies.
i only have one memory of ever flying a kite; my mother told me, however, that we did it often. i was really little and there was a whole huge group flying kites on this big hill. some were with us, some weren’t. i’ve seen pictures. who knows if it’s a true memory or just something i’ve made up through told stories and photographs.
I’ve never flown one. Sometimes I want to, but I feel like no one does. Where would I even buy a kite? It’s the kind of thing you’d have to do with somebody else.
a kite in the sky, a little girl in a polka dotted dress running on the beach with her father. the kite is orange and red and her dress is blue and white. It’s a family vacation.
I flew a kite today. It was amazing. The way the wind swept it up high into the sky reminded me of the way a child grows up. All of the sudden, they are no longer the baby at your feet. Instead, they are grown into adults and on their way to see the rest of the world, with or without you. But there’s always that string to hold on to, so they can find their way back.
catching on dead branches that reach for your skin
you are stuck in position, caught by your sins
vertical to the ground, horizontal to the sky
you’ll never move again just because you tried to fly.
You’ll always know what you did wrong,
For adventure you had no right to long,
And doesn’t failure hurt the worst,
when you have an explorer’s thirst?
Now you’re there, and there you’ll stay,
twisting tail in the wind, your flight delayed.
Try to move, go on, I dare you,
Enter stage left and take your cue
See how your hope and faith will rip you up,
Collect your red-dye tears with my measuring cup.
Don’t expect to be found by joy,
Because in the end you’re just a toy.
High above this world is a small shape, it may flow or it may fall. But once it is picked up by the wind it’s going to fly high and be a beautiful fun thing to chase.
There is a kite in the back of my closet. I used to love to take it out in the field a couple blocks from my house, but I hate it now. I hate everything about it.
All it does is remind me of when they wanted to come with me to fly it; the days spent watching it float in mid-air, as if it was an illusion.
When they used to care.
They swirled and danced above our heads, brightening the already flawless summer sky with their colorful quadrilateral shapes and the fluttering noises they always make as they whizz past overhead.
What’s with all of the child hood memory words? I know know what we’ll do about this. I wish there was something more interesting like the word chicken or bubblegum or biting, or more morbid, casue I like to write about morbid things sometimes.
also, it’s one of those annoying shapes you have to find the area of in your geometry class. one of those stupid things that makes you tell your teacher “i’ll never need to know how to do this!”
What a pretty kite, with it’s rainbow stripes. I wish I could fly as high as the kite. It makes me feel like a child again, wild again – hopeful again. I see blue skies with that kite. I wish I could be there, with the kite. In the sky.
Kite the soarer and flight into fruition, the new ways are here and we are the children now, desperately, we grab onto what we thought we knew and how devastated do you feel? We hoped for many things, too many things but here we stand, staring at the ground, the leaves we’ve crushed along the way and we feel no remorse. What else is new? What else is known? There is a profound lackluster.
high as a kite do you hear me when i say i don’t need you to listen to me?
i wonder what it’s like to be as high up ad you to be in love with someone who loves me too.
I flew it around, all blue and pretty. It matched the sky, like a sapphire. I always played with it as a kid. In the rain, in the sun, in the wind, and even inside. I always loved that kite.
kites are stupid. ive never had one before. ive wondered what it’s like to use on, but it doesnt look like much fun. in the dominican republic there’s people who sell them on the street. Oh well’ that’s not really something you do in New York anyway.
When I think of the word kite, i think of how fun a kite should be,a nd how boring it actually is. I mean, once the kite is in the air, then what?
If I could fly with the kite it would be different, but as it is holding the string and staring at the sky is well, boring!
I have a kite hanging at my side, like a pet manta ray.
a thing that you fly in the sky
high and low
wind catches its material and makes it be so beautiful
it is a thing that wind carry’s in the wind a kid can play with in the park
The kite was floating in the air. It never stopped. It just kept going. It didn’t care where it was going but it just knew that it didn’t ever want to stop. It floated up to the heavens and got trapped in the clouds and met an untimely death. It fell to the earth in a dead heap only to be resurrected by a little boy named Fred who took him in and loved him forever.
Strings flying through the air. Puffy white clouds above, and the string disappears into one. When the cloud moves away, you can see a dragon with an elderly woman gripping onto it for dear life. Despite how wrinkly she is, she has a lot of beauty and she is very vivacious.
weilding a massive kite shaped shield he rushed throught the throng of fighters as if propelled by the wind. Ripping through the flesh and vision he seemed to float in the clouds untouchable.
she saw the beautiful yellow kite soaring like an eagle a wonderful yellow eagle.
flying kites and a geometric kite.
innocence, and knowledge
joy and agony.
There once was a time when i was a little girl that I imagine I could pin myself to a kite and obtain the ability to fly. Luckily I never tried. However, I absolutely loved going to the park and watching all the kites flying in the sky. They ranged in size, shape, and color. I loved it.
There was another time when i was in China and was able to witness a dragon kite flying contest. These kites were made of sturdier material that was strong enough to hold man. My dream came true after all.
The kite flew far above their heads as they walked hand in hand through the field. This was the last time they were to be together, for she was flying away from him, like the kite.
i fly the kite in the morning with the arabs on brighton beach. the kites are black and sexy and i wish i could fly them when i was a baby. KITES ARE DEVILISH BEINGS. i need to be exorcised. that word is spelled wrong. FUCK NO TIME. no timee for zee bombs
Long hours spent in the night trailing giants, griffins, and sundry other beasts behind me in a thin trail, through the sunlight days and dark nights of the fantasy world, in an endless loop of time.
When I was a little girl, I used to fly kites with my brother all of the time.
Now, as an adult, I never realized how much I would cherish those refreshing days flying a piece of fabric on a string.
Appreciate the little things in life.
When I was a child my dad taught me how to make a kite. He was always patient when he taught me new things, and I always enjoyed learning from him. We spent hours making kites of all shapes and sizes
Go fly a kite. I wanted to say F off, but my mama raised me better, so I exclaimed at the top of my lungs in the lunchroom filled with fellow prepubescent teenagers, go fly a kite. No wonder I sit by myself.
I like to fly kites.
I have always loved it.
I used to talk to my kites when I flew them, as though they were my friends.
Now, I wonder if the kites fly us. Perhaps they decide that they want to go into the sky and watch us run, looking down on us and laughing much the same way we do at them on a windy day.
Perhaps we have much in common with kites.
And as i opened my eyes…a tiny red kite flew into my vision and i thought… man, the world is just one small place. i am one small person…. we’re all just fighting for survival.
lite
fighting the wind
soft string in my hand
rising and falls
falls down
into the field where the rattlesnake live.
I was high as a kite on the evening of the concert. ZZ Top was performing with Joe Walsh and I was so ready to party. The year was 1974 and I was at the concert with my new boyfriend and some other buddies.
i only have one memory of ever flying a kite; my mother told me, however, that we did it often. i was really little and there was a whole huge group flying kites on this big hill. some were with us, some weren’t. i’ve seen pictures. who knows if it’s a true memory or just something i’ve made up through told stories and photographs.
I’ve never flown one. Sometimes I want to, but I feel like no one does. Where would I even buy a kite? It’s the kind of thing you’d have to do with somebody else.
a kite in the sky, a little girl in a polka dotted dress running on the beach with her father. the kite is orange and red and her dress is blue and white. It’s a family vacation.
I flew a kite today. It was amazing. The way the wind swept it up high into the sky reminded me of the way a child grows up. All of the sudden, they are no longer the baby at your feet. Instead, they are grown into adults and on their way to see the rest of the world, with or without you. But there’s always that string to hold on to, so they can find their way back.
catching on dead branches that reach for your skin
you are stuck in position, caught by your sins
vertical to the ground, horizontal to the sky
you’ll never move again just because you tried to fly.
You’ll always know what you did wrong,
For adventure you had no right to long,
And doesn’t failure hurt the worst,
when you have an explorer’s thirst?
Now you’re there, and there you’ll stay,
twisting tail in the wind, your flight delayed.
Try to move, go on, I dare you,
Enter stage left and take your cue
See how your hope and faith will rip you up,
Collect your red-dye tears with my measuring cup.
Don’t expect to be found by joy,
Because in the end you’re just a toy.
High above this world is a small shape, it may flow or it may fall. But once it is picked up by the wind it’s going to fly high and be a beautiful fun thing to chase.
There is a kite in the back of my closet. I used to love to take it out in the field a couple blocks from my house, but I hate it now. I hate everything about it.
All it does is remind me of when they wanted to come with me to fly it; the days spent watching it float in mid-air, as if it was an illusion.
When they used to care.
They don’t care anymore.
It was my own pet eagle. Soaring above my head, attached to it’s leash that i held tightly in my hands.
Stuck in a tree. For ages. Like the red wing of a bird half-gone.
They swirled and danced above our heads, brightening the already flawless summer sky with their colorful quadrilateral shapes and the fluttering noises they always make as they whizz past overhead.
I have to hold on to you, but all I want to do is fly away with you.
Up so high floating the tail holding little flowers in its knots. Dancing with the wind, holding dreams. I lost my grip and it all flew high away…
What’s with all of the child hood memory words? I know know what we’ll do about this. I wish there was something more interesting like the word chicken or bubblegum or biting, or more morbid, casue I like to write about morbid things sometimes.
Triangular beauty
Lost from a child’s hands
Meant to soar but quickly lost
Amongst the tearful blue sky.
Your innocence, like childhood
floated away.
We thought you would soar forever
Like our childhood
We were once again wrong.
Screams, yelps,
Waves of sorrow.
Caught in a tree
Ripped, tarnished, forever lost.
Oh the similarities between you
And me.
Trashbin know carefully adorned
Your remains sagging
Down.
Down.
Down.
I look at you and think of my memories.
Carefully tucked away in a
Trashbin.
Gone forever
Unable to be salvaged
Kiting, a complex banking scheme used to bounce checks. One that in the 80’s could be used to make someone who was smart and dedicated very rich.
let’s go fly a kite, up to the highest height
also, it’s one of those annoying shapes you have to find the area of in your geometry class. one of those stupid things that makes you tell your teacher “i’ll never need to know how to do this!”