Unframed Poems | Examples

The Rainbow Chase

Searching
for his palette
the painter
wanders on
Dreaming
of each color
to visualize
his song
Tubes of paint
lie scattered
unsqueezed
their caps remain
In attics
of blank canvasses
with images
— unframed

(Dreamsleep: July, 2025)

famished

famished
 
it didn’t seem quite right
the sign over his left shoulder said
‘fine arts & framing’
while his unframed cardboard read
‘famished’

his empty cup told the story

and one man named ‘simon’
felt that he was a disciple of jesus
before he became peter when jesus said
“on this rock i will build my church.”

and now, peter…or perhaps simon
slept

and the ‘rock’ upon which he slept
was cement
as people walked by
unaware that in his dreams

was the church

a gentle caressing rain 
in the bottom of the beggar’s cup was the only sound 

no coins, only hollow tunes
echoed by the cascading groan of hunger

empty cups, 
sidewalks for a bed
hunger
thirst


and the church walks by

on cement 

matthew 16:18
“and i also say to you that you are peter, and on this rock i will build my church, and the gates of hades shall not prevail against it.”

tolbert

Painted Truths A Makeup Story

She wakes, bare as morning light,
A face unframed, soft in sight.
Mascara lifts, lashes rise,
Eyeliner sharpens her guarded eyes.

Blusher blooms, cheeks come alive,
Contours shape what can’t survive.
Lip gloss glistens, a coy disguise
Her beauty speaks, but never lies.

By night, the mask dissolves away,
Each streak of cleanser blurs the day.
The mirror holds her rawest view
Which face is hers? Which one is true?

Latent Lattice

Penultimate misty mile
resonates pined
sunset swan song
of forlorn footprints
transformed to
flattened anonymity. 

In the shadow of 
cleaved cloud
in swarming storm
turmoil threads
weave ordained
webbed horizon
languished obscurity,

Convolute canvas of
chameleon conversion
deception illumines  
the last corner
patina plays
beguiled buoyant
with the remnant rays
of sanguinity.

In the final flash
of the sinking sun
latent lattice 
fabricates in delusion
unframed dreams
of petrified life
in kaleidoscopic snapshot.

Creativity

The bible 
our pure poetry

Divine voice

art -- gallery imagery 
Father’s expanding palettes of time
space infinite – 

shadows of unframed
formless canvas -- man's freedom 
to light, shape, transverse supernal grace,

we, alone, limit speed
and trajectory

bridging dark gaps, colors
dappled, dropped and splashed
faith will make mix, both consciously 
and intuitively apply:

heaping our scrapers and brushes,
the chill of the chalkboard screech
the joy of the slip and slide
the rankle of arms and hands figuring
otherwise meaningless medium

Creativity man's Adam

ligaments of my elastic being
dutifully, lovingly allowing stretch
for explore

sinewy constructs for
mental lift and taut endurance,

the unshakable frame that
holds all upright, and
makes daily challenges
superbly sculptable, while
retaining elasticity -- 

God let’s be

and we decide
if when and what…?

His unseen hand 
yet in the flaming attributes….

Gypsy Autumn

Gypsy Autumn, what grace and style!
sunshine dappled melts to moonlight.
resigned summer is just awhile
trees liberated, leafless sight.

bright mosaic of yellow and brown,
Gypsy Autumn, what grace and style!
leaves are free, colors dancing down
in caress of wind, through the aisle.

unravelled fractals thrall in pile,
nomad flames in transient layers
Gypsy Autumn, what grace and style!
orange orchids, touseled red hairs.

unrefined beauty, unframed art
hues of sunset in hazel smile.
Hi! champagne welcomes winter start
Gypsy Autumn, what grace and style!

Paired Possession Virelai

A stem sprouts leaves two
Holding cute bud new
Grows free
Unfurls charming hue
Makes a flower blue
Blooms glee
Unframed scene sticks to
Pleased plant, shines with dew
Silky.

Bridge the two banks see
Standing on strong knee
Crossbow
Structure so crafty
Makes closeness lovely
Somehow
Bonding seems to be
River’s sole trustee
To show.

Longing two hearts grow
Desires in spate flow
Find clue
To bloom life nouveau
Paired love’s floral glow
Debut
Dear link two lives know 
Living brings rainbow
In view.

_____________

March 18, 2023
Syllable count checked at HMS
Contest : Write Me A Virelai
Sponsored by : Kim Rodrigues

Door

I am a door----you are a door.

A good door is neither
too wide or too narrow.

Sometimes you are a threshold.
Only illusionists praise the craft of locks and keys.

Whatever is indulged in, applied to,
attended to with a keen focus and an abiding passion
is a door.

Be a door for everyone, but if they use your openness
to escape into, close that door to them.

Too small, ajar, elaborate or complicated a door
will eventually be a scaffold.

There is a vast distance between
one tightly framed
word and an unframed one.
Meaning is reduced by its frames.
The same applies to doors.

What we call 'Heart' is space,
if it were actually something it would not be
a real door.

Every breath of awareness
shatters mind-locks,
opens doors to see through yet more clearly.

Remembering Rod Serling

What’s in a photograph
in reference to time
The events as portrayed
or what they call to mind

Focused on tomorrow,
the picture is lame
Its history frozen
—the future unframed

(Dreamsleep: January, 2022)

Unframed

Snow stays in the sky
while the mountain peaks seem to fall
as first light denudes them.
Crystal clear in the mirror of itself
the lake shines under a surface of silence.

I know if I take a picture of what I see now
the mountains will not be falling,
I will not see the snow in the sky
nor the mirror in the lake

so I just sit awhile on a wet stump
and bleed a little wonder into the world.
          If I still smoked
the smoky fumes would be perfect
          to look through.

Snapshot of Petrified Life

In the mist of the journey’s penultimate mile
at the edge of the fading pasture of future obscure
in the twilight hour the sunset swansong resonates
for the forlorn tree of the being silhouetted still
against the blazing skyline of transient brilliance
witnessing the last flicker of the dying day. 

Twirling threads of turmoil entwined seamless
with the cleaved clouds of the swarming storm
ravage the unwary horizon halcyon once
mimicking the chameleon transformation
on the convoluted canvas burning the last corner
from the surreal chromatic flare the ashes fly away.

The shards of the splintered sky in the swirling gale 
roll on the dismal waves of the curled up clouds 
the remnant rays of sanguinity surviving still 
in the departing flashes of the sinking sun
fabricate the latent lattice of unframed dream
in the petrified life’s kaleidoscopic snapshot.

February 22, 2021
For Brian Strand Contest A Brian Strand July 2

From Roots To Thorns

Trying might make us good ,intentionally 
For sake of blood lacking breath of visual 
Composers all around 
Reciting the benefits of loyalty 

Crop up again with idol mind
Craving for golden sweets
With pre-owned diamonds 
Isn't this antithesis 

Well known roots 
Lapse with faults 
Idol mind is a key to success 
Was an unframed judgement

Light of the Despot

Creativity…
undemocratic 

Tyrants of insight,
breaking new ground

Vision on fire,
effigy’s burning 

Painting’s unframed
—all muses set free

(The New Room: November, 2020)

Kaleidoscopic Snapshot

In the mist of the journey’s penultimate mile
at the edge of the fading pasture of future obscure
in the twilight hour the sunset swansong resonates
for the forlorn tree of the being silhouetted still
against the blazing skyline of transient brilliance
witnessing the last flicker of the dying day. 

Twirling threads of turmoil entwined seamless
with the cleaved clouds of the swarming storm
the unwary horizon halcyon once
mimicking the chameleon transformation
on the convoluted canvas burning the last corner
from the surreal chromatic flare the ash flying away.

The shards of the splintered sky in the swirling gale 
roll on the dismal waves of the curled up clouds 
the remnant rays of sanguinity surviving still 
in the departing flashes of the sinking sun
fabricate the latent lattice of unframed dream
in the petrified life’s kaleidoscopic snapshot.

March 29, 2020
Contest : All Yours (Feb 21)
Sponsor : Brian Strand

Driftwood

Driftwood

Once part of a thing lone and simple,
That stood breathing sky through a spray of green
Held in a tangle of outspread arms,
Some circumstance tore you loose from your moorings
And cast you adrift,
A wanderer on the unframed seas
Whose eddies shaped and changed you
Into your present enigma: something more and less
Than you were when you were born.

My eyes follow your strange contours,
Pitted, twisted by lash of wave and solar fire,
And the thought forms in me of how circumstance
Carries us through the wild ocean of changes
We call a life,
Pulled loose from our moorings
To ride along a vast and silent deep,
Shaped by the lashings, burnings and turns of fate
That transform us by degrees into something lovely, mysterious -
Something more and less
Than what we were when born.

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