The Poet Is Dead Poem by Kenneth Maswabi

Poets don't die
They died the day they took a bullet
And swallowed it
Not to amuse anyone
Or perform any magical stunts
But to display their naked bodies
On the pedestal of hope
They died the moment they folded their blindness
And opened the curtain of knowing
It was the death of ego
That really made them immortal
When they held peace in their hands
They were celebrating immortality
When they ate from the table of compassion
They were cementing their presence in eternity
Poets don't die
Their tears have been flowing since ancient times
Their mission has always been to open the heart of humanity
And let the mysteries of eternity into the human soul
To awaken the spirit within
And ignite the everlasting fires of peace, happiness and Love
The Poet is dead is not a poem
But a rendition of a beautiful story
A life lived serving others
A life portrayed on the canvas of poetry
A life shared with so many that it ceased to resist
This the life of Daniel Brick
May His Soul be forever more illuminated
Through his beautiful poems
And life changing story
He will continue to talk to us
And guide us
Into the shores of eternity
Forever and ever

©
Daniel J. Brick, USA
"I was born in Minnesota, in the Twin Cities, in 1947 and lived my whole life here. This is where I am rooted, near the Mississippi River, in a landscape of four seasons with many trees and parks and lakes. These are the natural things I treasure. Poetry and classical music are my passions. Over the years most of my friends have moved to warmer climates, so in old age I find myself to be something of a loner. But I have a talent for solitude. Latest eBook published: ‘The Double Door' - English Edition."