Frame
Frame
I could frame my
mind to what my
thoughts become,
"words spoken"
or I could frame the
night to think my
agony is gone.
I can frame almost
anything I quess,
from a heart in grief
looking for some relief,
the mailman,
the milkman,
and everything
that passes by,
A kitten at my doorstep,
is funny isn't it?
you can frame your
way through a
dragons throat.
Anything you want,
even your heart,
your truth your lies and
even the clear skies.
The hymns I sing,
my eyelids to fall asleep,
an ability not yet control.
Everything I long for
has not yet pass through,
so I keep framing
the truth the lies and all
I can think of.
But framing is not my
escape is just a lie
I keep telling myself,
and I can keep doing
it for eons.
But not yet complete,
for I can't frame my
eyes of what I see.
©ElenaToledo2009
poem by Elenushka Toledo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
Picture Frames
Picture frames that enclose the art
make the art stand out.
If the frame is not just right
better to do without.
For the artist had in their mind
what the frame should be.
But the framer who made the frame
did not know what the art would be.
So acquiring the knack of pairing them
is a talent all its own.
The picture itself cannot speak out
but it has always known
what its frame should be.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
What did I do?
What did I do to get out of your life,
when I am in every frame of your life?
As a fetus, you kicked and turned,
I was there in that frame, carrying you.
As an infant you were fragile and helpless,
I remember I was there as well.
As an aimless toddler, before stumbling down,
the hands that carried you, were mine.
During all your school activities,
the beating heart that prayed for your success,
During minor and major exams and interviews,
the eyes that woke up before you,
Had I been there in those frame?
I was there in every frame of your life,
I will be there in every frame of my grandchildren,
If you both let.
Until then my child, explore the new things.
This poem is dedicated to the parents who miss their
children who have gone for further education, work
commitments and other reasons as well.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Empty Picture Frame
An empty picture frame sits upon my desk
Where once upon a time a picture in it did rest
But now the frame stands lifeless and bare
Now it reminds me of a love that once was there.
As in the past the picture brought me happiness and joy
Gave me the reason to live and to write my story
To glance upon and dream of when no one was near
To speak the words of love when them she couldn't hear.
But when she left me I threw her picture away
But I kept that frame to remind me of that day
In remembrance of what she did in and out of my sight
As she was my candle but she blew out that light
So that picture frame I keep it in my plain view
So every time I see it I know what to say and what to do
As once upon a time her picture was in the frame
But now picture is gone but the memories still remain.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Red Frame/white Light
Red frame white light
Telephone box
Red on grey
Six three two three double o three
Red frame white light
You have a gray book
On a metal shelf
Red frame white light
Numbered calls
Selected places
Red frame white light
Telephone calls
Black and white
Red frame white light
You have a yellow book
With averts
Red frame white light
There is a black lead to a dial and phone
Red frame white light
Six three two three double o three
song performed by by Omd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Frame II
The frame was best supporting act,
and held the ego high and proud.
He never moaned or groaned or spat,
just hung there, all chilled out.
Of course he would have liked acclaim,
a little lime light and a name,
although a painting with no frame
would look a little dull and tame.
The painting lapped up all attention,
with its enigmatic grin,
often feeling quite ecstatic
to be held with such esteem.
and so the frame in show biz style
put a brave face on and a smiled,
stoical in holding back
ambitions to be the star act.
The frame all low and down at heel
resigned himself as second bill
for after all it wouldn't do
if he were narcissistic too.
poem by Ruth Walters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Home For Summer
It's hard for me to comprehend
Holding on with broken hands
But who will understand
Wallow in the acid rain
What's in store for us today
It's never gonna feel the same
I'm waiting for an angel now
To carry me above the clouds
Cause it's a long way home for the summer
And it's a long way up without a ladder
It's a long way home
And it's a long way down
Swallowing the bitter taste
Trying to find a remedy
Before the crystal breaks
Looking at a picture show
Frame by frame you see us grow
To something you don't know
You're trying to find a reason now
Behind a face, you see a child
It's a long way home for the summer
And it's a long way up without a ladder
And it's a long way home
And it's a long way down
Life's a picture show
Frame by frame we grow
song performed by by Feeder
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Framing You
Haven’t I planned to frame
And hang on the wall?
Ah, lackluster walls
Insipid!
How about in between the pages
Of those untouched books?
What’s the use?
Moths and rats!
Between the folds of clothes?
Oh, those rarely touched saris!
How best can I guard
Round face and chubby cheeks?
Can’t place anywhere, in tact
How to place here and there?
No, I will not frame
I will not place anywhere
What if I fail to recognize,
When one day you choose to
Come to surprise me?
The frame may get damaged!
Ah, heart is the best place!
Isn’t it?
Let you remain
In my heart
Till the heart ticks
Hopefully, I can’t possibly
Fail to recognize my heart!
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Imagination's Field
Within its bounds, naked canvas stretched.
Before the display, the lad stood.
Adorning the wall, ornate frame hangs.
In concentration, young man observes the void.
Forced by curiosity's command.
for the source of his deliberation.
I searched sans satisfaction,
In despair, I queried the youth.
“Sir, within empty frame you survey,
what do you perceive? ”
Without addressing me, responded.
“I see tall mountains, endless restless seas.”
“I see naught, for this frame's canvas is empty.
How might you see these sights? ”
He turned, facing me and remarked.
“Sir, within the frame, a great deal I see”
Sans the luxury of explanation, pointed at the title plate.
Upon small brass plaque,
beneath the frame, inscribed.
“Imagination’s Field”
29Oct10
poem by Kurt Hearth
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Dead Girls Of London (feat. Frank Zappa)
Do you see what they are
Do you hear what they say
People it is sad but true
They're dressed really stupid
But they think they're O.K.
And they got no use for you
The dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
Maybe it's the water, mama
Maybe it's the tea
Maybe it's the way they was raised
Maybe it's the stuff what they read in the papers
Keeps them lookin' sorta half in a daze
Well the dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of London
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
You see 'em dancing at the disco every night
Like a bunch of little robot queens
Making little noises full of fake delight
But they're really just so full of beans
The dead girls of London
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of London
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee I like your pants
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The Dead Girls Of London [w/frank Zappa]
Do you see what they are
Do you hear what they say
People it is sad but true
They're dressed really stupid
But they think they're o.k.
And they got no use for you
The dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
Maybe it's the water, mama
Maybe it's the tea
Maybe it's the way they was raised
Maybe it's the stuff what they read in the papers
Keeps them lookin' sorta half in a daze
Well the dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of london
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
You see 'em dancing at the disco every night
Like a bunch of little robot queens
Making little noises full of fake delight
But they're really just so full of beans
The dead girls of london
Why do they act that way?
We're the dead girls of london
We thinks we are fine
We ain't hittin' on nothin'
But the boutique frame of mind
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
Boutique frame of mind
Gee i like your pants
song performed by by Van Morrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
Dead Poet
Who are you now?
By the same name?
By the same game?
Spark the same flame?
Shame.
Such a sweet girl all the same.
Go consume yourself at uni.
Uni, what a wonderful place
A frame to frame the endless shame.
But congratulations at the end all the same.
"your lame"
And yes I fell for your words, and your tongue, and your verse
Yes it hurt.
But now? Just disturbed is the word.
Unravel yourself, and wind your limbs round a naked flame
Get burnt.
Get burnt.
Get burnt again.
Don't gain, just play.
Just play in your new way.
You're nothing
You're the same.
It's a shame.
poem by Peggy Pollock
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet: The Beggar's Sleep
Like wooden log, he sleeps with weary mind,
At times, he spends a sleepless night till dawn;
Insects, animalcules, his frame does find;
Giving happiness that birds will sense at morn.
Under the wide and starry night, He lies,
And sleeps in Mother Nature's lap cold earth;
Who cares if he lives or suddenly dies;
Half-naked lies his frame, naked at birth.
With heavy heart, his drunken torso sleeps,
In golden splendour of a Moonlit night;
Sometimes, within his heart, he sadly weeps,
The world of men ignore his nasty plight.
Nevertheless, Heaven is open wide,
How can the Maker ev'r a beggar chide?
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Sonnet XIX: On Cupid's Bow
On Cupid's bow how are my heartstrings bent,
That see my wrack, and yet embrace the same?
When most I glory, then I feel most shame:
I willing run, yet while I run, repent.
My best wits still their own disgrace invent:
My very ink turns straight to Stella's name;
And yet my words, as them my pen doth frame,
Avise themselves that they are vainly spent.
For though she pass all things, yet what is all
That unto me, who fare like him that both
Looks to the skies and in a ditch doth fall?
Oh let me prop my mind, yet in his growth,
And not in Nature, for best fruits unfit:
"Scholar," saith Love, "bend hitherward your wit."
poem by Philip Sidney
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The frame of the cave leads to the frame of man.
quote by Stephen Gardiner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
The concept of liking
A woman can gain a man;
The space and the time will tell.
A woman can turn stale to a man;
The space and the time will tell.
The image should fit the frame in the brain.
It takes time for the frame to adjust.
The frame that holds the image so far
Will loosen to dropp it unfit in size.
21.03.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Your mirror frame
Methinks I see your mirror frame,
Ornate with photographs of them.
Place mine therein, for, all the same,
I'll have my little laughs at them.
For girls may come, and girls may go,
I think I have the best of them;
And yet this photograph I know
You'll toss among the rest of them.
I cannot even hope that you
Will put me in your locket, dear;
Nor costly frame will I look through,
Nor bide in your breast pocket, dear.
For none your heart monopolize,
You favour such a nest of them.
So I but hope your roving eyes
Seek mine among the rest of them.
For saucy sprite, and noble dame,
And many a dainty maid of them
Will greet me in your mirror frame,
And share your kisses laid on them.
And yet, sometimes I fancy, dear,
You hold me as the best of them.
So I'm content if I appear
To-night with all the rest of them.
poem by Emily Pauline Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Once Upon A Time
Once upon a time, I made a
silhouette,
Placed it in a picture frame,
So I would not forget,
Many years it stayed there,
Behind glass, with tender
care.
Then one day, I looked,
The picture frame was bare.
Like a fairy tale, came true,
My eyes were full of you.
poem by Heather Burns
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
In Memoriam A. H. H.: 45. The baby new to earth and sky
The baby new to earth and sky,
What time his tender palm is prest
Against the circle of the breast,
Has never thought that "this is I":
But as he grows he gathers much,
And learns the use of "I," and "me,"
And finds "I am not what I see,
And other than the things I touch."
So rounds he to a separate mind
From whence clear memory may begin,
As thro' the frame that binds him in
His isolation grows defined.
This use may lie in blood and breath
Which else were fruitless of their due,
Had man to learn himself anew
Beyond the second birth of Death.
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A black box
somewhere in my frame
a black box that clocks
my every heartbeat
every wink of the eyes
every single hair that sprouts
but sadistically conceals
all the vital numbers from me
somewhere in my frame
a black box that counts
every of my pores
everybody i am going to meet
and the exact second i am going
to kick the bucket but allows not a single
shard of light to escape the stasis, the black hole
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Inside the pictures frame
Inside the pictures frame
~
Light breaks in the picture frame
A morning caught over a lake
Or a maidens beautiful smile
The sun cutting through the trees
Shadows falling away
A story begins in every picture
A tale waits to be told
The sound of laughter begins
In a memory of sweet joy
Light breaks in the picture frame
A moment captured for posterity
That the world is held
To forever look upon this scene
Feel its warmth, enjoy its memory
A new day beginning
A maiden or a child’s smile
Kept inside the pictures frame
Where a light forever breaks
poem by Matthew Holloway
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!