REVELATION (by Robert Frost)
We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and flout,
But oh, the agitated heart
Till someone really find us out.
‘Tis pity if the case require
(Or so we say) that in the end
We speak the literal to inspire
The understanding of a friend.
But so with all, from babes that play
At hide-and-seek to God afar,
So all who hide too well away
Must speak and tell us who they are.
The heart of the poet is both a blessing and a curse, and is difficult to separate its insides from its outsides. The heart of the poet is sometimes a projectile weapon, and sometimes a comforting pillow upon which to ease a tortured soul. It should influence, but never dictate - imply, but not compel. There's no such thing as lonliness; it's only God wanting your heart all to Himself for a while. Denying Him a pleasure that only you can provide is the worst form of hubris.
Thank you for visiting my author's page, but the Gazzelle you seek is revealed in the desperate rantings listed below.
We make ourselves a place apart
Behind light words that tease and flout,
But oh, the agitated heart
Till someone really find us out.
‘Tis pity if the case require
(Or so we say) that in the end
We speak the literal to inspire
The understanding of a friend.
But so with all, from babes that play
At hide-and-seek to God afar,
So all who hide too well away
Must speak and tell us who they are.
The heart of the poet is both a blessing and a curse, and is difficult to separate its insides from its outsides. The heart of the poet is sometimes a projectile weapon, and sometimes a comforting pillow upon which to ease a tortured soul. It should influence, but never dictate - imply, but not compel. There's no such thing as lonliness; it's only God wanting your heart all to Himself for a while. Denying Him a pleasure that only you can provide is the worst form of hubris.
Thank you for visiting my author's page, but the Gazzelle you seek is revealed in the desperate rantings listed below.
- Member since July 14, 2003.
- I'm a opaline dream poet for 956 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is "dysfunctional servant of the Lord.".
- I am a 55 year old guy from Maryland (United States)
- When I'm not writing, I'm a scoundrel.
- I have 956 comments, 1 contest, 63 poems, 1 story
My Poetry
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In and out, up and down, round and around -
Sam and Sarah become the prom.42 lines, 7 comments, March 15, 2006. In Spiritual -
she slips through the door
to the sound of marinated something30 lines, 17 comments, November 21, 2004. In Love
My Stories
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Numma-One Joe
It will be out there tonight, and I must let It in.1773 lines, 9 comments, November 21, 2004. In 600-2000 words, Horror
Guest Book
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grannyeri on March 13, 2006Enjoyed reading your page - I too am a 60's teen, but did not get into the drug culture of that time - my first 45 was a Dave Clark 5 song, and I faithfully collected all the Beatle 45's when they came out, later getting the LPs. Now my grandkids buy DVD's - different time, different generation, different music.
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CatastropheWaitress on January 22, 2005You're a B&S fan, that's really awesome.
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pruedence on December 17, 2004WOW! You sure did visit my poetry site! I am so glad that you enjoyed all of my works...thank you so much for spending time with my words...You are in Maryland?? Me too! I need to spend some time at your site also...I just moved...got my internet reconnected yesterday...so I am set...I think...lol...well thanks again for all your comments...I enjoyed returning to all poetry and reading all you had to say...I missed the site while I was away...glad to be back..I have many words to release! Take Care
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astralshepherd on November 24, 2004Thanks for stopping by my site, I dont remember the 60's...
tooooo many parties in Isla Vista, just outside UCSB. 
But that was then and this is now and, darn it, too much of the current world and social climate looks like it did "back then" only now it seems more frightening. I used to be really religous. said all the right things, did all the right things and condemned all who didn’t believe. Spoke fluent “christanese” and lived safely confined within the stained glass ghetto. then i got real…pastoral spiritual abuse haelped me break free of my addiction to being needed and having all the anseres. I gave up pastoring, stopped worship leading, and sat down and reexamined what it was that God wanted of me and what it was that I thought God wanted of me. I found an amaing freedom and acceptance and the relationship deepened to depths i could never have imagined before. I still play my Taylor, but now its personal. I really like your aouthor page and look forward to seeing more of your work. blessings and best wishes, ~richard
(here’s more about where i am today: allpoetry.com/Poem/636108)
