For Life and Death of a Poet

Poets in literal meaning are not responsive to normative rules of dying moreover just like the Saints they do not fit into a written conventions of the existence of the survival at all costs at the cost of their own greatness they rather resemble orphaned fortresses which has to be taken meter by meter - as in the past with the severe blood loss or permanently straining among the yellow fields mossy towers with no vaults but with the ever-vigilant gaze poet as gaper windblown caressed by storms until he not falls never measures himself as the one and then all fading behind for life and death of a Poet there is no proper time he lives in himself stirring up higher and higher by the abandoned fortification of horror of consequences to the moment in which he is taken - far far away - In memory of Seamus Heaney