The people along the sand All turn and look one way. They turn their back on the land. They look at the sea all day. As long as it takes to pass A ship keeps raising its hull; The wetter ground like glass Reflects a standing gull. The land may vary more; Buy wherever the truth may be; The water comes ashore, And the people look at the sea. They cannot look out to far, They cannot look in deep. But when was that ever a bar To any watch they keep? Robert Frost For all you ocean hugers!
Robert Frost remains one of my favorites since I was a kid. Thanks for for sharing. Here's another: Dust of Snow The way a crow Shook down on me The dust of snow From a hemlock tree Has given my heart A change of mood And saved some part Of a day I had rued.
The surf looks like pure Joy To this wanna be Surfin' Boy Alas, unable to paddle out on a whim Because I have yet to learn how to swim. So I pray to the Gods far and yon While I grovel doing Sand Reconne That my life, they kindly not take, Whilst I flounder in Chucktown shorebreak. -Frost
Just got out of the water, with conditions that matched the latest EC swell. Pretty much like that on the reg here. So, I doubt it. EDIT: Aww, the water was 51 degrees so you might have me there.
There once was a Poseur named Frost Whom in the water, appeared quite lost While doing Sand Reconne He found his stuff gone Looked in the water and found it had been tossed.
Then take me disappearin' through the smoke rings of my mind Down the foggy ruins of time, far past the frozen leaves The haunted, frightened trees, out to the windy beach Far from the twisted reach of crazy sorrow Bob Dylan
One of my favorite Frost poems... short and sweet. The Master Speed No speed of wind or water rushing by But you have speed far greater. You can climb Back up a stream of radiance to the sky, And back through history up the stream of time. And you were given this swiftness, not for haste Nor chiefly that you may go where you will, But in the rush of everything to waste, That you may have the power of standing still- Off any still or moving thing you say. Two such as you with such a master speed Cannot be parted nor be swept away From one another once you are agreed That life is only life forevermore Together wing to wing and oar to oar Robert Frost
Could man be drunk forever Could man be drunk forever With liquor, love or fights, Lief should I rouse at morning And lief lie down at nights. But men at whiles are sober And think by fits and starts, And if they think, they fasten Their hands upon their hearts. A.E. Housman
Alright, this thread started all serious for me. A little irie, I read those poems and they plucked at my heartstrings. Then I saw KR's masterpiece, and Ho Lee Fuk, not only was that hilarious, but it was an ootstanding poem. You mothertruckers, I tell ya. #9/12 #SI4LYFE #eatmyfuk
Don't know how I missed this, but dang Keed! The Seen is spot-on, yours is a masterpiece you're truly the Poete Laureated of The Forume
My Personal favorite from Frost... Once by the Pacific Robert Frost The shattered water made a misty din. Great waves looked over others coming in, And thought of doing something to the shore That water never did to land before. The clouds were low and hairy in the skies, Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes. You could not tell, and yet it looked as if The shore was lucky in being backed by cliff, The cliff in being backed by continent; It looked as if a night of dark intent Was coming, and not only a night, an age. Someone had better be prepared for rage. There would be more than ocean-water broken Before God's last Put out the Light was spoken.
Sea waves are green and wet, But up from where they die, Rise others vaster yet, And those are brown and dry. They are the sea made land To come at the fisher town, And bury in solid sand The men she could not drown. She may know cove and cape, But she does not know mankind If by any change of shape, She hopes to cut off mind. Men left her a ship to sink: They can leave her a hut as well; And be but more free to think For the one more cast-off shell. Sand dunes Robert Frost
Riders The surest thing there is is we are riders, And though none too successful at it, guiders, Through everything presented, land and tide And now the very air, of what we ride. What is this talked-of mystery of birth But being mounted bareback on the earth? We can just see the infant up astride, His small fist buried in the bushy hide. There is our wildest mount- a headless horse. But though it runs unbridled off its course, And all our blandishments would seem defied, We have ideas yet that we haven't tried. Robert Frost for all you ride rs'
