Thursday, September 08, 2005

"The Flood" by Robert Frost


Photo of Robert Frost (1876-1963)

I am a big fan of Robert Frost. Somehow Frost captured a spirit of America that is somehow missing from today. His America abounded with trees and opportunities. Fresh air and roads not taken. Not the cynicism that abounds in our people today.

Thinking of the horror of Katrina, I recalled that Frost once wrote about a flood. Maybe poetry has a place in dealing with all of our pain and frustration.
Blood has been harder to dam back than water.
Just when we think we have it impounded safe
Behind new barrier walls (and let it chafe!),
It breaks away in some new kind of slaughter.
We choose to say it is let loose by the devil;
But power of blood itself releases blood.
It goes by might of being such a flood
Held high at so unnatural a level.
It will have outlet, brave and not so brave.
weapons of war and implements of peace
Are but the points at which it finds release.
And now it is once more the tidal wave
That when it has swept by leaves summits stained.
Oh, blood will out. It cannot be contained.
The Flood, by Robert Frost, written in 1928.

Another flood. Another time. Much more of the same.

Bob

3 Comments:

Blogger Todd Mitchell said...

Bob, thanks for posting. I'm a fan of Frost myself and had forgotten about this gem.

12:03 PM  
Anonymous Helen said...

I love RF poetry!
My favorite poem by Robert Frost is "The Road Not Taken"

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I-
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Source:
famouspoetsandpoems.com

4:05 PM  
Blogger BobsAdvice said...

I love that poem too.

All the difference.

Bob

5:25 PM  

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