dedicated to promoting single line very active controllable fighter kite flying

and world domination. narf!

north american fighter kite association

contributed articles ...

got stuff, will publish.

poe-ums from the poe-uts that roam among us

haiku -tom humphrey

buka schmooka - by donna lambert
excerpt from the book of the coprolite

from pierre gregoire

what’s it all about, ralphie? - ralph resnik, wsikf 2004

keep lookin up! - terry mcpherson 1994


haiku - tom humphrey

"bless our kites and winds-"
-fk pope

darting through the mist
my buka dances a reel
to the foghorn's tune.

i see my buka,
tracing the sun's foggy halo:
a scene of beauty.

such joy in motion,
as my buka leaps skyward.
somewhere, dennis grins.

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buka schmooka - by donna lambert
excerpt from the book of the coprolite

not long ago on the northwest coast
there rang out a fearsome boast
that hi-tech indian was kiting king
and the buka-schmooka a pitiful thing

a man called cutter of manjha fame
was the one who made the prideful claim
that hi-tech indian would win the fight
over any old half-baked buka kite.

a broken down old wreck of a kiter
once widely known as the "king of fighters"
took up the gauntlet that had been thrown
and asked to have a contest flown.

an historical event took place this day
two armed combatants came to play
armed with indian and "rectangularpieceofshit"
they came to make a fight of it.

onlookers followed with awe in their eyes
the streaking flight across the skies
as the indian shot up and down
flying horizontally inches off the ground

no one watched the gray haired kiter
as he wearily toyed with his buka fighter
he stifled a yawn and heaved a sigh
seeming to have no energy left to fly.

as the indian advanced to take the point
without appearing to move a joint
the line sprang from the old kiter's hands like a bolt
and brought the attack to an end with a jolt.

the crowd watched with bated breath
the indian fighter in it's spiral of death
there rose a sigh and then a roar
buka schmooka never more!!!!!

across the land coast to coast
there now rings out a fearsome boast
that buka buka is fighting king
and the hi-tech indian a pitiful thing.

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from pierre gregoire

hi richard,

the like is right, the shape is the cover that makes it escape. umm does that rhyme, and who says poetry has to make sense.

i was a flyier,who looked for the fire
the wind was upon me, the sound was upon me
the sound was started, but i could not get parted
to find the clouds of time, i thought that it was a rhyme
no matter it goes, because of woes
the kiteflier flies and the ocean lies.
fly the shape,

pierre

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what’s it all about, ralphie? - ralph resnik, wsikf 2004

little kite, big delight
there we stood, awaiting the fight
mine was red, yours so blue
spinning so fast, no one knew
top or bottom, so you called
then we met, and i was mauled
this way and that, we moved the line
touching and tangling, the top is mine
up and down, side to side
all to soon, we grinned with pride
again and again, ’til it got dark
the sky was alive, full of spark
but we don’t care which one wins
’cause in the end, ’tis about the grins

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keep lookin up! - terry mcpherson 1994
i wrote this a few years back, and its always in the back of my mind when I fly.

when i look up
i see the eyes
the wisps of hair
i remember the good times
the smiles the laughter
keep lookin up!
remember
a father
a loved one
a friend
remember !
keep lookin up!

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