ALL THE GREAT POETS ARE DEAD

All The Great Poets Are Dead
Lying as dead as mackerel in their graves
a cold, clay bed
Not one could be saved
from death's icy hand
Not Woman nor Man.

All Their Great Prose
Now read by others
and the poets don't know
Babes rocked to sleep by mothers
reciting lines written long ago
Before, yes, way before.

All The Great Lessons Ever Learned
Have been scattered in the wind
Not even ashes from what was burned
can bring them back again
Oh, you can fill up a mind
But somehow it all turns to brine.

All Their Eyes Are Sightless
Visions blurred forevermore
Gone are the long, dark nightmares
like the closing of a door
They saw nothing and saw much
At least they thought it such.

All The Microphones Are Put Away
The crowds have dispersed
Not to be repeated upon this day
the glory of that first
Poems live and then they die
We complain while children cry.

Words Break Apart When Misspoken
And lost is all comprehension
Communication is broken
replaced by tension
We want to understand, we do
But understanding is banned, for things untrue.

Angry For An Explanation
We storm the castle gates
But there's to be no edification
just more to frustrate
What was knowledge is now mush
What was silver is now rust.

All The Great Poets Are Dead
Lying as cold as mackerel in their graves
a cold, clay bed
Not one could be saved
from death's icy hand
Not Woman nor Man.

2008
by
Denny Reese