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Robert Frost
Love and forgetting might have carried them
A little further up the mountain side
With night so near, but not much further up.
They must have halted soon in any case
With thoughts of the path back, how rough it was
With rock and washout, and unsafe in darkness;
When they were halted by a tumbled wall
With barbed-wire binding. They stood facing this,
Spending what onward impulse they still had
In one last look the way they must not go,
On up the failing path, where, if a stone
Or earthslide moved at night, it moved itself;
No footstep moved it. ‘This is all,’ they sighed,
‘Good-night to woods.’ But not so; there was more.
A doe from round a spruce stood looking at them
This is the bricklayer; hear the thud
Of his heavy load dumped down on stone.
His lustrous bricks are brighter than blood,
His smoking mortar whiter than bone.
Set each sharp-edged, fire-bitten brick
Straight by the plumb-line's shivering length;
Make my marvelous wall so thick
Dead nor living may shake its strength.
Full as a crystal cup with drink
Is my cell with dreams, and quiet, and cool....
Stop, old man! You must leave a chink;
How can I breathe? You can't, you fool!
a thin book of days
to bury the dead in
elsewhere the wall
and no one able to pay for it
a rough gentleman
paid me for my heart
we sat alone and not alone
like a place to lay a wall
The walls leased
the sight of the place—
a handsome provision.
To see is to kill.
Night came to town
to help the fox.
the land has been our home
they have walls
in every mind a box
they call God
To think they were back there
all that time someone said
meaning the half-dozen snakes
of three different species
our bathroom remodeling project displaced
but my own thoughts kept dwelling
on that huge nest of razor blades
in the wall where the mirror had been
We propped up the roof and ripped
the bathroom walls out
keeping the fixtures intact
so that the shower stall
stood fully exposed
to the breeze and blowing rain
for half that summer
Ah
I stare at the wall
without focusing
until it doubles.
From the neighbors’ unseen backyard,
snatches of an English
I can’t quite follow.
A snail comes out of
its banded shell, eye-stalks stretching
in two directions.
A rat is running around in my walls,
I could hear his footsteps quick but heavy leaving a trial of misfortune and commotion, how did he end up in there I ask myself
Who let him into my walls
Is there a hole I do not know about?
He gives away his spot and runs down to next open space he can get to before I find him,
Leave I tell him and he does not understand
Well of course he doesn't, he's a rat
I try to reel him out with some cheese and nuts
Although those do not satisfy him as much as my thoughts,
Please go Mr. Rat I have suffered enough, your running is causing me a headache,
My walls are weak and thin
Maybe that's why you have ventured in
It was an easy spot to lay and you stayed
I'm a day dreamer,
My heads in the clouds,
But when I fall down,
Won't you be my solid ground,
I tend to block people out,
I'm hard to reach,
So when I put up another wall,
Just break them all,
I find it hard to laugh,
I'm not easy to crack,
But when you can tell it's been awhile,
Do anything to make me smile,
Many have tried,
Many have failed,
I'm hard to love,
Becasue you have to do all of the above,
Nowhere to turn,
The walls closing in,
Being there from the start,
Nearing is the end,
Planted firmly in the middle,
My eyes stare straight ahead,
Cognizant of what will result,
If to either side I sway,
At equal speeds they close,
Tension building in the process,
The suffocation I begin to feel,
The painful end seemingly inevitable,
My rapidly beating heart races ever more,
My pulse begins to quicken,
Sweat dripping from my face,
In my stomach knots form,
Misheard voices,
Falling walls.
No eavesdropping,
Through slammed doors.
In the attic,
Windows open.
Fresh air gently,
Reminds me I'm broken.
If a breeze,
Can make me stumble.
I'm too weak,
To deal with trouble.
So when the hits,
Start raining down.
I hope one day,
I can defend myself.