Listen to poem:
Beyond the Edge of Being Framed
A frame never shows the entire world—
only the slice you choose to see.
It takes the sprawling wild chaos of things
and trims it to something bearable,
something simple, cloistered,
that fits inside the mind’s small room.
This cropping is mistaken for clarity.
Calling it truth.
Calling it perspective.
Robbed of context and background
the art lies in choosing
which edges matter and why they matter,
and what may be exiled outside the margins
outside the frame like a photographer
swinging the viewfinder over the scene.
A window pretends to offer everything—
the sun, sky, clouds, the sway of trees—
yet it offers only what fits within its frame,
its glass holding back wind, sound, doubt,
the real context for the world
is left excluded, ghosting just below the sill.
Doorways negotiate between what's inside and outside,
thresholds where inner and outer whorls meet,
Stand on the threshold long enough,
and the hinge of separation between worlds dissolves.
You are less divided and separated—
from what you let come in before
and what you are yet to let inside.
Every border blurs the truth.
Every threshold distorts.
Frames are where certainty falters,
like heat trembling over asphalt,
like a mirage on the horizon that forgets
where sea ends and sky begins.
The mind frames memories the way a camera frames light—
editing the whole truth into meaning,
cropping out the wounds,
propping up the joys,
with rosy filters helping you forget the bad times
We walk through our days
carrying invisible frames,
seeing only what fits within their boundaries:
the familiar shapes and causes,
the comforts and warmth,
in the explanations
that match our sense of order.
Everything else is clutter—
seen, held, felt and heard, but seldom claimed.
When we step outside the frame—
beyond the window’s cloistered view
past the doorway’s quivering threshold—
The world blossoms, booms, and unfurls to display in full color,
wild, unfiltered, untamed, brimming with chaos and disorder,
layered, dynamic, prismatic, multifaceted.
A realm with no borders, no cropping, and no frames—
far beyond the box our minds keep wanting to shove it in.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
