Long Frame in Poems
Long Frame in Poems. Below are the most popular long Frame in by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Frame in poems by poem length and keyword.
Written: December 02, 2023
Quote "Without birth and death, and without the perpetual transmutation of all the forms of life, the world would be static, rhythm-less, undancing, mummified." Alan Watts
________________________________________
“we woke up early one morn, ego shorn
it felt as though we were in form reborn
nodes within stirred, boundaries blurred
our head and heart, with love concurred”
I deploy discursive divine depiction as a guide.
A gateway to Genesis, where it takes its side.
Unbridled and untamed, my voice may rise.
I pursued knowledge out of pure surprise.
Low-frequency vibes induce a shift in shape.
Scarcity leads to transmutation, of spare scape.
Alchemists transmute leads to sacred gold.
Metal sheds its genius luster in the kiln hold.
I waltz freely with doom in the gloom.
I inhale oxygen to marvel at life's bloom.
I endure steps yet disappear in the dream.
Structure is unaffected by the skill stream.
Love is my soul—my reason for existence.
Living in lavish love is a lifelong vow of diligence.
A mind, weaved with such insight, was so warm.
I flaunt my firm frame in this fabulous form.
When you are feeling opulent and egotistical.
Those who are dominant were miscible.
Departure might induce an unfillable hole.
Descry a suitable way to purify your soul.
There are ecstatic and tragic days, love and hate.
No matter how tough we strive, this will be our fate.
Note how sporadic and fleeting life is; spot the stride.
Our days of tribulation bruised our noble pride!
Rather than succumbing to hatred and rage.
Turning negative into a rising trend of assuage
Let trust and troth tackle tricks and malicious
Such a restrained demeanor is truly auspicious.
Within, most consensus spans are wide.
It's all whim; scatter love and watch it glide.
Trust your scintilla—trek to the boundless sea.
We may all profit from sowing wisdom trees.
Conquered the most-dubbed landmass on Earth.
And yearning to discover raw levels of worth!
Death, then delirious with deceit, drove his life.
A wicked beast embedded himself in strife!
A susurrus sparkle to the shimmering love.
Enhances adieu strut below the moon above.
Breeze says, "Love on, my dear, and dance."
Across the trees, a gentle man's glance.
On a cold winter’s night
We sit close together
By a fire, warm and snug
Almost sleeping, certainly dreaming
A hand-knit blanket is over us
It keeps us warm
As we watch the snow fall
On the back patio of our home
We stay for a while longer
Talking without worrying
No cares in the world
We’re free, living our life
Our lives are combined
They are now one
We share this life
In the pleasantness of our home
It’s not the house that makes it home
But you my dear
This home is beautiful because you’re here
And we discuss this by gentle flames
After a while, we’ll head off to bed
I’ll actually be able to sleep
Because you’ll be there beside me
So we slip into bed and into a dream
There’s a fire in the bedroom too
Keeping us warm on this night
This beautiful, snowy night
We drift off into a shared dream
You’re there beside me
And you’re there in my dream
I’m in yours as well
And when we wake, there you are
Oh, waking is so magical
Sunlight…early, pure sunlight
Pours into our room
It gradually wakens us
My eyes begin to open
The first thing I see is your face
Shining beautifully in the light
And we lay there together for a moment
After that moment
With your frame in my arms
We decide to get up
Slip on our slippers
Then we step outside
Into the cold morning air
To see the sun rising
Over the mountains around our home
It’s a beautiful sight
But after just a short time
We decide it’s too frigid
And step back inside
You go back to our room
To spend time with God
And today I decided
To read while I prepare the morning meal
A strange combination perhaps
But, ah, what better way to start the day
Than with God and with food?
Than reading and cooking?
Then breakfast is ready
I call to our room
You finished a moment before
And you sit at the table
I bring over our meals
And we start to eat
We enjoy the food
As we talk about our devotions
After the food is finished
We read together
And spend time in prayer
With God and each other
With the morning well underway
I contemplate the plan for the day
Perhaps we’ll go sledding
Or go pick out a puppy
I don’t know what we’ll do
I’m just happy to spend time with you
So we spend the day doing whatever
And later, we slip into a dream once again
Homeward Bound
Land of mango and avocado
Sweet , mild and refreshing
Cassava bread with tea, coffee and hot cocoa
Fresh meaty young coconut
It’s water crisp and refreshing
Glazed peanut, cashew and coconut for a quick snack or dessert
Spaghetti with herring or hot dog for breakfast
Large tart grapefruit topped with sugar crystals and eaten with a metal spoon
Killed a butterfly
Folded it in half
Pressed against its wings
It fell apart
Grandma chased me with a bowl of medicine
A liquified leafy concussion
To clean my insides out
Stepped on a ball of thorn
My foot slowed me down
And the neighborhood kids caught me for grandma
Was stung by a bee in the belly button
Crossed rivers barefoot
Watched black crab crawl across a small body of water
And tiny fish swam in a little pond
Skinny and gray were they
My cousins and I rolled handkerchiefs into figures
We got in trouble together, too
A long walk on foot
Left us late for school
Once late , on our knees we were preyed Hot and sticky was our whip
Lashed were our backs
At bath time , mama saw my back
red and black with strikes
Left furious ,
Angry and out of breath ,she advised my teacher and school masters
That I am but a child
And not an animal in the wild
Another time, I was struck by a bull on my way to school
A big, black bull tied to a tree , loosened itself free and charged at me
With its horns it grabbed my frail little frame in between mama and great uncle
I was tossed
I opened my eyes and was at the hospital
My great uncle rode a motorcycle and dined with me and grandma
He gave me a large slice of avocado to eat with my plantain and sauce
The blacked out city
Was lost in the dark
On the countryside moon is streetlight
On roof tops made of aluminum
Boys flew kites
Plastic bags and spare tree branches
they combined
Spun tops are made with lime and pick
A bucket of rain to bathe
A black hole in the ground
For feces
Clothes washed in the river
Line dried outside the house
Some bathe
Some bring donkey to graze
Its dung fall in between the waves
Some to wash their tresses
Like my godmother did to mine
Marckincia Jean
Narrative
07/13/19
Everything that's real passes me by
Cause I live on a sheet of paper
I could leave it anytime I want
Convincing myself there's always later
Writing about lives I've never lived
Scares me how I act beyond my age
As I'm fading into the background
Becoming a character on a page
In a fibrous bed
Is where I lay my head
The ink stains my clothes
Watch as I, decompose
I'm too young to think this way
I should live and feel everyday
Always goes back to the pen with me
Real life doesn't phase me and honestly
At times I prefer my paper world
Falling in love with artificial girls
Words can't break your heart, their with you from the start
Ink flows in my veins, to me it's just a game
I'm too young to think this way
Am I far too gone to be saved?
Just one marvelous frame in this world
My beauty is like the autumn leaves
Pretty to see, don't you know I'm dead?
Enshrouded by a blanket of make belief
Instead of trains I played with pencils
Literature in my box of toys
At 6 I held my books in wonder
Desire to intrigue, though I'm just a boy
I tire of real things
Pen holds my puppet strings
I have had enough
Poetry is my love
I'm too young to think this way
I should live and feel everyday
Always goes back to the pen with me
It's where I go to breathe and honestly
At times I prefer my paper world
Falling in love with artificial girls
Words can't break your heart, their with you from the start
Ink flows in my veins, to me it's just a game
I'm too young to think this way
Am I far too gone to be saved?
With enormous zeal
I burn oil by the desk
Drifting, fading, I
Become a child less and less
It's how I escape
This cold and earthly shell
Is it really me
You're talking to, can you tell?
Would you remember me like a good book?
At times I wish you would
See me as a work of art, a wondrous look
I really don't think you could
Instead of a box beneath the ground
I'm a mere mortal striving to astound
Put me on a shelf and put me in your head
Bits and pieces of me to look at when I'm dead
Would you remember me like a good book?
At times I wish you would...
Entered into the contest
"How Poetry Has become You"
Hosted by Michael J. Falotico
.After Bill left the station, he made a pit stop down to the local diner, parked his car and
hurried in to get some much needed chow.
“ What’s up stranger? Haven’t seen your lanky frame in this fine dining establishment in
forever” she said saracastically as she poured him a cup of old left over breakfast
coffee. “Made this pot special just for you Bill, after I saw you crossing the street to come
in here.”
“Sure you did, Nette. I can tell by the grounds floating on top. I missed you too, he
grinned.
“I take it you had a good trip…welcome back cowboy .You want the usual steak and
eggs?” She didn’t wait for his answer as she wrote something on the order pad, spun around
and hollered out to the kitchen. “Dead cow..rare and chicken innards Charlie!”
“You always make that sound so appetizing, Nette.” She smiled her welcome at him and
headed off to grab another order. ” I’m comin’, I’m comin’, I ain’t your mother, ya know!
Bill chowed down, left a tip and drove to the police horse stables to see his patrol partner.
When he got there Gail, one of the stable grooms had Redneck on the cross ties lavishing
him with attention that could only be given by someone who was dedicated to these trusty
warm bloods. Redneck pricked his ears forward and whinnied a greeting to Bill before Gail
knew he was there.
“Hello Redneck ole buddy! What would you do without Gail spoiling the heck out of you
here?” Bill scrubbed his forelock and patted his chest while thanking Gail for taking care of
him while Bill was away.
“ No problem Bill. Glad to do it. You know that. He’s my buddy too you know. Glad to see
you’re back.” They exchanged pleasantries and Bill headed back to his apartment to get a
some much needed rest.
The next morning found Bill refreshed and chomping at the bit to get the scoop on
Brick’s mystery murder case. He decided to give Brick a call early before he headed out. (
To be cont. on Richard Pickett site "the team up")
I call the law! Am dialing it now! Hello!
Spirit friend speak time to what time has been even to my enemies this be soul time to everything anything everywhere on some things time is called to everything.To everthing there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven so use your time wisely. A time to be born just remember the time and a time to die yes I remember the times and A time to plant and a time to pluck up that which is planted. A time to kill the evil inside the bloody frame in the mind and a time to heal so believe in the shadow domes of life A time to break down whatever it is.
A time to weep in tears for some of us the tears are reserved in a bottle. A time to laugh with joy for all headquarters.A time to mourn yes I remember the times of dancing happy and free. yes A time to cast away stones clear ring the spirit house complete yes and a time to embrace what you need a time to refrain from embracing. yes A time to get a time to lose a time to keep and a time to cast away seem not much we can keep yes. A time to rent a time to sow a time to keep silence a time to speak yes a time to love love for God is love and a time to hate what you be and what you see a sad time for me. yes A time of war a time of peace this will repeat. what time is it? Traveling through a dream it seems with blue skies and foggy clouds around the broken times in the dimensions sphere it all comes down to time when time will be no more!
To my timeless ones we call time on you time the spirits to see what time will bring to thee yes to those that live outside of time excuse me what time is it? Is time not respected It will be. In the name of my King of Kings the great King of Time the one that made everything beautiful and said! It is good! He has set the world in the heart and all things in our hands so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the Alpha to the Omega to the beginning to the end when time will be no more! So What time is it? I claim my time! one two to three!
An unexpected storm happened last fall
I put a window in to keep out the snow and wind
For the comfort you brought me, I embraced you
You and the peace I didn’t know I needed became my obsession
This is wrong
You were so constant I got used to it
Winter brings a new set of challenges
When it’s light outside I look right through you
But when it’s dark, you show my reflection, and I’m forced to acknowledge you
This is wrong
Cracked, but you still serve a purpose
Now even the light comes with a scarred view
And deservedly you fracture my reflection-
Since I had been angry enough to disfigure you in the first place
This is wrong
Vulnerability left no room for a final mistake
Hopes of being whole again replaced by “I wish we’d never met”
Maybe there’s no need for you anymore since it’s spring
Glass litters the lawn outside, and I still cut myself when I walk there
This is wrong
An open frame in my wall where the window was
The presence of invasive cold does less to freeze me than does your absence
Instead of the snow, rain introduces itself
And now instead of a reflection I can see the dark that you sheltered me from
This is wrong
As summer approaches I realize
I didn’t have a room with a wall for you
I didn’t even have a house or a foundation
So why was I ever looking for a window in the first place?
This was wrong
But for just a moment before it shattered, there was a defiant “I love you”
Where we were so broken but so desperate to prove that broken is beautiful
The beautiful promise of “no more breaking promises”
Then a final broken promise for us to realize broken is ugly
This is so wrong
I was 16 when I helped frame a house
From the concrete to the roof
We put the windows in last
I hope understanding that will be my concrete
And when fall comes around again I’ll be ready
Communication break down for several months
who knows why i am unsure i don't question the trials of others its not meant
for me to know. I take the still frame in my mind of this insight time. Destiny
and life crossed our path of communication once again all i can do is praise the
fact. You bring something different this round your baggage you have
dropped. A goal in mind with a can do attitude what else could be more
pleasing to some one looking into innerworkings like me. Something to pay
attention to and keep breathe into this new opportunity life has threw at me.
Maybe i am a wishful thinker maybe i am a dreamer i am unsure really maybe i
am just to blind to the big picture. All one can do is hope and have faith of a
better tomorrow. One must work in the lighting to rest in the sunshine. Life
seems to be a on going storm of emotion and feeling. As we work to better
our selfs . I some times wonder am i fighting the monster of life or the monster
inside of myself. Indifferently i would just like to resolve my demon. I am a
strong individual i have to be with the person i am the people who surround me
the weaker souls in need of a hand while there hanging on the edge of the cliff
of petie ******** to them its the catastrophic demise of the world. Still i offer
wonder who or what do i need to complete the puzzle i ponder. I am nothing
as i use to be,i am a different creature a different cult in my personality i have
over come many bumps in the road been the saving grace in many stories,still i
have a desire for a reason a desire to begin a new chapter in life a chapter of
me and my story and my beginning living knowing myself and knowing where i
belong. So the anthem speaks tonight i shall keep walking that line. In hopes
one day i will know why.
I beheld your frame in my doubting eyes
there was no way for me to
explain this to by brain.
How could my trembling hands want to
follow the trail,and explore your definition.
If I know you are taboo.
What damage could be done in my adoration.
Not put here I think, for my souls appreciation
I cannot humble myself enough to walk away
If my lust defiles you -I am certain
I cannot look away,
captured in the gleam of my eye,
It's not for me to decide
God our creator already
has said that lust is a sin
that starts in the minds eye.
I behold a sight that draws
me like a magnet to metal.
Shall I blame this on the devil?
Are my feelings evil?
My resources are feeble.
Signals received under complicated
conditions.
Waiting for your response to free me.
If I lose my soul -I will be lost forever
if there is such a thing
as the great beyond -- I will be doomed.
If I be true to my now,
as natural as it may seem.
Who will call the foul ?
I am waiting on your response to free me.
The virus of the unrighteous
has spread to the future..
We have become what we once hated
infuriated, that what's inside me is despised.
I have never supt of your essence.
Though I be penalized-God
who knows the score-When he
indicts me with this crime...
God who controls my emotions
my thoughts-Leaves this one to my charge.
fraught I am in this conflict-Shall I remain lost.?
Waiting on your response.
If we kiss now,
I cannot touch you in the future-
One day it won't matter about
Color age or respective gender.
We can love completely
without guilt or shame-
without the threat of
torture in a treacherous flame
One day love and lust will be the same.
It will all be fine, until then
I will wait with dubious mind.
Written: October 11, 2023
As I Watch The Waves Crash Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
As I wait with anxiousness on the edge, I gaze.
As the capacious waves roll onto the shore to graze.
A fanciful caterwaul that is truly a show to behold
The wave of anticipation, the rising to withhold
Akin to a monitor of art, I scrutinize with reflection.
As billows rise, so do wavelets in diffraction.
Fluctuation of the sea, an imperious dance,
Panache and languid undulation—an idyllic prance
With each rippling perm and undulation,
Swell slyly spawns a spellbinding sensation
A seiche of emotions, a dance so divine,
As the curling waves rise and intertwine.
Lackadaisical they seem, in their languid flow,
Yet, their rippling aura is obvious—zeal on show,
With each rise and fall, their chimera is felt.
A clout of nature, a symphony to be dealt
Waves glisten and shine under sunlight beams.
Their corpulent dance is a kaleidoscope of gleams.
The desultory scene is painted in ultraviolet shades.
As they race toward the sky—in egregious glade,
Their sheer life flows and surges with every beat.
Their knack for clearing the way left me discrete.
The wave dance is both aesthetic and daring.
A narrative is hidden, deflective, and bearing.
As the seas beat up against the jagged rocks.
It fluctuates with a chorus of cursive flocks.
A pulse occurs that ripples through the air.
A sleek waltz lures me in and leaves me there.
As I spot waves spinning—I feel idyllic at peace.
A concise reprieve—an aura of release
Froths flex and frame in a fellifluous flow.
Borough bears betwixt breakers beat and blow.