Daniel Brick

Gold Star - 52,857 Points (June 10,1947 / St. Paul MN)

After The Poet's Death - Poem by Daniel Brick

His poems refuse
to mourn his passing, they
detach themselves from
books, magazines, wall hangings
and float freely
in the fair summer air.

Their refusal to mourn is
steadfast. 'He's just changed
his address, ' one of his
first poems says to the new
lyrics. 'He's done this before,
searching for a better place to live.'

'And we always go with him, '
pipes a small poem, barely
audible, maybe not
completed, hardly a poem
at all. 'We are all of us
pieces of his soul, ' booms

the lordly Epic Poem
of 24 cantos. 'We must
catch up with him, restore
his soul to wholeness, then
together, all of our words
linked, all of our sentences

looped around each other,
we will be the ONE POEM
he always claimed
to be writing.' Murmurs
of approval for Epic's speech
crescendoed over the meadow,

into a harmony of voices that
was almost musical. 'Excuse me,
oh, pardon me.' From way in back
where the sequence poems
had clustered, Sonnet XIV
was coming forward. He

squeezed through a group
of illustrated narrative poems,
and eased himself past
the pastoral poems, reclining
on the yellow-green lawn.
Lacking the familiar support

of sonnets XIII and XV,
XIV was unsure of himself.
Epic graciously steadied him,
and introduced him to the assembly,
'Dear friends, ' he began softly,
'we sonnets were with him for hours

yesterday. He was reading
us to his three children. It was
the happiest afternoon! He read
sonnets by the two Rossetti's, brother
and sister, his favorites. Then,
just as the sun dipped and lights came on,

something happened. He suddenly
collapsed.' XIV breathed deeply.
'We watched as two of his childen
covered his face with a blanket.'
For a long moment, it was
just the green air of summer.

Then an immense cry
sliced the greenness, and it bled
grief over all the poems.
The Elegies, whose gray eyes
had held little hope, were
comforted by a volume of

haiku. Pairs of Love Poems
embraced fiercely to crush
grief before it could
propagate. Drinking Songs from
the Chinese laughed harshly and
poured more wine. Wisdom Poems

fell into stunned silence. The other
sonnets joined XIV and they all
bowed their heads. A straggle of
Free Versers assembled, reciting
They sheltered the small poem, confused, bereft.

It was dusk but no shadows
obscured the outlines of trees,
bushes and flower patches. The sun
had withdrawn, but left behind was
a spiritual glow, suffusing all
with yellow-gold, an unasked for grace

welcomed nonetheless for beauty's sake.
A procession had quietly formed
on the furthest margin of the meadow.
Prose Poems, from his last published
work, carried and pushed a huge
covered arch. They were silent,

except for a choral hum, which other
poems joined as it gathered them
into the procession, making it more
spacious and resonant. A smiling Epic
and the sonnets understood suddenly
what was happening, and joined

the Prose Poems, who welcomed them.
Together, they braced the arch
and removed the cover. Cheering
resounded across the meadow. Then,
in perfect silence, the poems
crossed the threshold, and entered

the open arch. Sonnet XIV paused.
'You see, he is not dead. He
lives in all of us. We are his
life eternal.' Then he too
disappeared within, as did
every poem, quietly entering -


Topic(s) of this poem: Poetry

Comments about After The Poet's Death by Daniel Brick

  • Norah Tunney (2/19/2017 7:01:00 PM)

    the poet passes but his being lives on in the heart of the reader,
    the spirit of dead poets oozing through their blood. I love the image of the poems taking on a life of their own and floating freely in the summer air. Wonderful poem
    (Report) Reply

    Daniel Brick Daniel Brick (2/19/2017 7:40:00 PM)

    Thanks for your appreciation and understanding of my poem. It was my breakthrough; poem here at Poemhunter. I never named or described the poet who died. I want readers to choose their own identity for him. My choice would be a poet like William Stafford, a humble man and a great poet,
    a good man whose poetry was imbued with moral purpose.

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  • (2/3/2017 2:42:00 PM)

    Wonderful, very well written! ! ! (Report) Reply

  • Laurie Van Der Hart (12/21/2016 1:28:00 AM)

    What a lovely idea to have the poems come alive and talk! I enjoyed this epic very much, Daniel. I think it resonates with all poets, as is clear from the many comments. Are you familiar with the Polish poet Wislawa Szymborska? She has a conversation with a poem in An Idea (not on PH) , but you may also like Some like poetry and others. (Report) Reply

  • Ellias Anderson Jr. (12/19/2016 2:59:00 PM)

    Truly amazing
    Dear Daniel, i am truly speechless...i always feel like the poems, writings and anything that comes out of our mind are the things that make us live for ever....Shakespeare believed that his sonnets can make their subjects immortalized through the passage of time...
    : D i enjoyed reading your poem, thanks! !
    (Report) Reply

    Daniel Brick Daniel Brick (12/19/2016 3:47:00 PM)

    Thanks for your enthusiasm toward my AFTER THE POET'S DEATH. It's one of my favorites too, and it makes me very happy another reader discovers it. You are certainly involved in many of the arts, that's astonishing to be so verstile

  • Alisha Castle (12/3/2016 9:02:00 AM)

    Dear Daniel
    Was just reading your poetry. I find it really sad and Well described. (Report) Reply

    Daniel Brick Daniel Brick (2/19/2017 7:47:00 PM)

    Alisha I'm just saw your comment tonight. I appreciate you appreciate the effort I make to make my poems literary and, well, poetic and not prosaic. As for you hunch that my poems are imbued with sadness. It may be so; I have a reflective nature. My twin sister who of course has known me nine months longer than anyone possibly could know me, she thinks they're sad.

  • Robert Murray Smith (11/30/2016 1:10:00 AM)

    After The Poet's Death
    This poem should be set to music. It has a musical quality.

    The point about poetry is that it outlives the poet. Poems must be published to ensure longevity. When Shakespeare died many of his works were unpublished. That was rectified. Some 400 years later the works of the genius playwright, and poet are still read. Our works, if they are recognized will flourish when we are no more.

    A very thoughtful poem.++10
    (Report) Reply

  • (11/28/2016 1:19:00 PM)

    Our children can inherit our physical characteristics but only our brain children (poems, stories, scribbles, etc) inherit our souls. We may never be forgotten through our children and their children's children but we live eternally only through our brain children. In short, I love everything about this poem. It is fantastic and Brilliant! Just like the poet! Anthropomorphism at its best! 10+++ (Report) Reply

  • Kathy Van Kurin (10/13/2016 1:41:00 PM)

    Daniel Brick,
    Hmm. This was a very lovely writing. The full soul of the writer is left to witness his passing amidst his poetry? Anyway I got a wonderful lesson of names of poetry types. I do not really know what the difference is between them. I have three poems to my name here on poem-hunter. I would be interested to heart what the story was behind this one. blessings to you sir....................................Kathy
    (Report) Reply

  • (9/12/2016 11:33:00 AM)

    Thanks for sharing Daniel. Smooth reading! ! ! (Report) Reply

  • Judith Blatherwick (8/18/2016 2:34:00 AM)

    This poem has left me breathless. I wish I had something amazing to say, but my mind is in a whirl of sorrow for the poet and uncertainty for the poems. Is it better for them to fade with the memory of the poet, or to lie silently in a dusty book? Or will they live in in glory? This is a wonderful poem. (Report) Reply

  • Mohammed Asim Nehal (6/26/2016 2:56:00 AM)

    A great honor for all the poets, your poem elevated the status of the poets in the eyes of the world, the work, they leave behind them speaks about the world they lived in and thought about. It also demonstrates the emotional dealings of the subject. Another thought provoking poem..10+++ (Report) Reply

  • Chinedu Dike (6/5/2016 5:24:00 AM)

    An expository piece of poetry highlighting the sublime nature of poets work - which leaves footprints of profundity that stand to point that a great soul once passed through the poetic world. Lovely poem passionately brought forth. Thanks for sharing Daniel. Please read my poem POETIC MASTERPIECE. (Report) Reply

  • Rajnish Manga (3/17/2016 7:24:00 AM)

    This poem is a great emotional tribute from all kinds of his poems to a remarkable poet of repute. I quote: He's just changed......his address......We are all of us.....pieces of his soul. (Report) Reply

  • Susan Williams (3/5/2016 3:14:00 PM)

    This is pure undiluted DELIGHT! I didn't make it through the first stanza before my heart smiled and my spirits rose to join your poems in the fair summer air [I love inner rhymes like that].And it was wonderful to meet all the characters from the lordly EPIC POEM to the grey-eyed ELEGIES to the laughing DRINKING SONGS.. May we all have poems that live after us. Excellent, Mr. Brick, excellent. (Report) Reply

  • Brian Mayo (3/4/2016 9:22:00 PM)

    We'd all love to believe our poems will outlive us. Your poem is a wonderful, anthropomorphic imagining of this desire. Great work. (Report) Reply

  • (3/4/2016 10:07:00 AM)

    The soul of the poet.
    Lovely poem that speaks of life into eternity.
    (Report) Reply

  • Nosheen Irfan (3/1/2016 11:35:00 AM)

    A poet lives in his poetry. His physical departure from the world need not be mourned for his spirit will live on in his poetry. The relationship between a poet n his poems is an eternal one. It's such a beautiful poem that it deserves many reads. A work of rich imagination. A well-crafted poem with layers of meanings. (Report) Reply

    Daniel Brick Daniel Brick (3/1/2016 1:58:00 PM)

    Thank you, Nosheen, for your appreciation of my poem in the context of Poetry Itself. I enjoyed writing this poem, it almost wrote itself. However, it was inspired by belonging to the community of poets that make up POEMHUNTER. Isn't it wonderful to be a part of such a visionary company? !

  • Ernest Makuakua (1/29/2016 4:57:00 AM)

    the open arch. Sonnet XIV paused.
    'You see, he is not dead. He
    lives in all of us. We are his
    life eternal.' Then he too
    disappeared within, as did
    every poem, quietly entering

    beautiful piece
    (Report) Reply

  • Terry Craddock (1/15/2016 10:57:00 PM)

    'His poems refuse
    to mourn his passing, they
    detach themselves'

    wonderful lines to begin a poem which interesting twists turns until suddenly a masterpieces is written with joy and fun had with the writing, stunning creativity Daniel.
    (Report) Reply

  • Kim Barney (12/6/2015 8:07:00 PM)

    Very creative piece of work. Well done. (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, August 7, 2014

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