The Frame
The frame held the ego splendidly,
with a little gold chintz around the edges.
It highlighted its excellence with flair.
Truly, I couldn't fault the fine brush work.
A splash of light here, shade there.
The ego was quite unabashed and fabulous,
it spoke, in its way, about the artist's life,
his death and all his earthly quests.
Of course the frame had a long face
and felt quite let down with all this adoration.
Like a bridesmaid at a wedding; second best.
poem by Ruth Walters
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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
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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
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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
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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
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Love and Gold
Love:
True inspiration I ignite
In every poet’s heart,
I move an artist’s brush to paint
A masterpiece of art,
And everybody falls in me:
The foolish and the smart.
I am the scent of bursting bloom
And I’m the first kiss
Of passionate and tender youth,
Its harmony and bliss.
I live inside unspoiled souls
Who really care and miss.
Gold:
I am the shining of the sun,
I am its morning ray,
I live on millions stars above
And in this earthly clay,
With me ends every moonlit night
And then begins new day.
Both noble and so pure am I,
Also corrosion-free,
That’s why my glitter and my glow
In temples you can see,
And thousands people broke their backs
From depths to get me.
Love:
No matter how pure you are,
How noble you may be,
You ruin everything I do,
You are my enemy,
And down you bring those who’s sublime
From their high degree.
Lie is your tool, so is man’s greed,
Your glitter’s just a shade
Which darkens everything that’s true,
Eventually it will fade:
You’ll lose your power over man,
With you he won’t trade.
Gold:
I’m not to blame, I’m what I am:
Attracting, shining gold,
It’s not my fault that man for me
His soul to devil sold,
It’s not my fault he hunts for me
No matter young or old.
But I can be a faithful gift:
A lovely wedding ring,
Or in a craftsman’s skilful hands:
A fine and perfect thing,
Not only greed and stinginess
Into this world I bring.
poem by Ruslan Kerimov
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Sonnet: When We Die
When Death has seized our earthly frame some day,
And gets our soul released, Creator-bound;
What does it matter palled or coffined, say?
No more can worldly travails ever hound.
Some get incinerated, fit, unfit;
None can prevent the Ants and Worms from work;
Or Vultures, Fishes, beasts that devour it;
No more can Death upon us again lurk.
Some mummified by years are-looked with awe;
Some dissected to show man's various parts;
Some fossilised are found when ice-does thaw;
Most go -to soil again when life departs.
When life has gone and soul has left our frame,
Nothing remains our name, fame, blame or shame.
poem by John Celes
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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
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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
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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
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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
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If I Were A Painting
If I were a painting
Captured on canvas
Alone in the portriat I would stand
And brush strokes bold
Yet soft as a whisper
The work of a feminine hand.
Caught in a still life
Surrounded by shadows
And lost in a background of blue
If I were a painting
My price would be pain
And the artist would have to be you.
I imagine the colors
Would all run together
If you ever allowed me to cry
So don't paint the tears
Just let me remember me
Without you in my eyes.
It's only the frame
That holds me together
Or else I would be falling apart
If I were a painting
I wouldn't feel
And you wouldnt be breaking my heart...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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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
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Friendship
In my dream, last night, I met my friend,
He invited me to go to the carpenter
Together with my wife are looking for frame
I’m tired and felt better to wait in the carpenter workshop
I’m waiting for a long time
And then I decided to follow closely
And find they still choose the wooden frame
From outside workshop I could saw his spectacle frame
And I ask what the relation with mutually dependent,
The cemetery Land, The Wood Frame, My friend and My Wife
Is the dream will be continue, everyday
Whereas in the real life, yesterday
He had sends sms to me three times
Told me that nowadays he became the bureaucratic man
And still catch his PHD,
And still help his wife dissertation
Which he hadn’t been finished yet
Since we meet in the 80-th,
Before you marry
Till you marry her,
Still learning science
Translated many book with me
I heard your children grown up, and went university
And to day, pick up another boy
From Arab family,
Now I wish to meet you again, discussed many things,
Prasetya Utama,4/6/2006
poem by Prasetya Utama
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Realities
Many fears,
Many tears,
Many years,
Many wears;
It's all about life when,
One faces the realities.
Birth, school, work and death;
The realities of life to keep on growing,
There is no hiding place from here.
The muse of a Bard,
The ink of a Writer,
The brush of an Artist;
To face the realities of life like,
The teacher and the student.
poem by Edward Kofi Louis
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Aurobindo 163 Savitri Book 10
An appreciation on Savitri-
Book Ten: The Book of the Double Twilight
Canto Four: The Dream Twilight of the Earthly Real
Words within inverted commas are Aurobindo's
'The Woman answered to the mighty Shade,
And as she spoke, mortality disappeared;
Her Goddess self grew visible in her eyes,
Light came, a dream of heaven, into her face.'
A long preaching on God she discoursed
The omnipresent all and ever pervading
In this and that, here and there, all and nothing
Formed and formless that can be only felt...
'O Death, thou too art God and yet not He, Line 543 to
And earthly life become the life divine.' Line 805
Through my eyes into my heart these words when seat
Overwhelmed and spellbound my mind with no move next
You read and feel the God therein my dear friend...
'But who can show to thee Truth's glorious face?
Our human words can only shadow her.'
Ah, harken, how great she enunciates....
'To thought she is an unthinkable rapture of light,
To speech a marvel inexpressible.
O Death, if thou couldst touch the Truth supreme
Thou wouldst grow suddenly wise and cease to be.
If our souls could see and love and clasp God's Truth,
Its infinite radiance would seize our hearts,
Our being in God's image be remade
And earthly life become the life divine.'
'Then Death the last time answered Savitri:
'If Truth supreme transcends her shadow here
Severed by Knowledge and the climbing vasts,
What bridge can cross the gulf that she has left
Between her and the dream-world she has made? '
'O soul who flutterest to escape my net? '...
............My consciousness this moment,
O'Guru, I'm in awe....in invincible heights
Ineffable Thee embellishing poetic creation
My inquisitive apprehension, erring Thee may opine
May thereso, let Savitri in my self arise
Aroused thereso be knowledge and fortune
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Nothing Can Stop Us
Written: stanley, wiggs
1:
Ive gone a long lone way
Since the day you walked into my life
Weve smooved out all the rough edges
Of our sweet love and devotion
The price is high given life as a scale
Wondering where Id gone wrong
And I know its going to work out fine
When I see that look in your eyes
Chorus:
I never felt so good
I never felt so strong
Nothing can stop us now
2:
Yeah, nothing can stop us now
What can I say
That a man who thinks that a woman is weak
Is so long
Cause nobody can hide from you
We both know that something else is true
Just the touch of your hand
And I know youre going to make it
Chorus:
Chorus:
X3:
Nothing can stop us now
song performed by by Kylie Minogue
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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It Does Not Matter
After a face – off
you toss the coin
resenting the liquid fame.
Frame extracts the price
of picture.
Compassion for the artist was missing.
I suffer in mid moon
between darkness and light
clarity of rags was improving.
Homage is now going to hurt
after the fall of ego, in
ending of alchemy.
In spite or sorrow
a face drills holes
in my wheels.
poem by Satish Verma
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Human life itself may be almost pure chaos, but the work of the artist is to take these handfuls of confusion and disparate things, things that seem to be irreconcilable, and put them together in a frame to give them some kind of shape and meaning.
quote by Katherine Anne Porter
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sentimental
What have you wrought with a single thought?
Not through a want, a need or even a desire
But to share of yourself from the burning fire.
Entrails that sweep across the sky
My God, you sanction that we cry.
To shed tears at the birth of one who looks like me
Softness of frame and loveliness of face to see.
To cry inside when my child ventures out on a date
My beloved baby, please for this time of your life; just wait.
Graduation with pomp and circumstance and the roll of the drums
My beautiful daughters and my handsome sons.
At their wedding my macho being inside to cry
For childrern I offer an eternal, joyous sigh.
Light of my life, light of my being and light of the way
Be prouductive, happy, contribute and please, 'have a good day',
03-06-60 Aho Speaks.
poem by AHO Speaks
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