En.Citatepedia^®.ro

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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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
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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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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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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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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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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
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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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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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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
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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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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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The frame of the cave leads to the frame of man.

quote by Stephen Gardiner
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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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
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The Plaque

They gave him a plaque
to hang on his wall
and not one person had come to call.
He had worked at his desk
8 hours a day.
He'd worked with diligence
and earned his pay.
He never took sick time
or called in late.
He punched the clock
and pulled his weight.

He looked at the plaque
that held his name
and all that he had done
was within that frame.
Outside the frame
was the shell of a man
who'd missed out on life
since his job began.
No pleasure, no fun,
No friends had he made.
He sat and stared at the plaque
and prayed,

'Please God send me a friend.'

poem by Edwina Reizer
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Once a beauty

Mind like body has a frame to hold things.
It alters its frame to hold new things in time.
Having adjusted to new arrivals
It will dropp the old which will not refit now.
29.09.2011

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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
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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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Beauty is according to frame

When a figure is fit to the frame
Conceived in brain, it is a beauty.
If it is a grossly unfit, it is ugly.
If it is slightly unfit, time adjudge the
frame.
16.09.2004

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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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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