MenWeb - Men's Voices Magazine
This poem was delivered as the Report from the Editor to the Board of Seattle MEN at its January meeting. It provided a powerful metaphor of the events which unfolded as Seattle MEN and the Seattle Community of Men grappled with the issues surrounding continued publication of the magazine. In a larger sense, I think, it speaks to the so-called "men's movement(s)" and to those who are looked on as "leaders," "elders" or "mentors" in the "men's movement."
| When a giant is slain, | ||||||||||
| he takes | ||||||||||
| a long | ||||||||||
| time | ||||||||||
| to fall | ||||||||||
| to the earth. | ||||||||||
It folds
or unfolds
in stages
during the descent.
Nobody knows, or remembers,
or cares to remember
Who it was that struck the mortal blow,
or when,
or how.
Perhaps he was slain years ago
and I have been dancing
with a corpse.
Did I think I was dancing in creative enragement
at the Feast
of the Alchemical Marriage
when I was making love to Skeleton Woman?
"Oh, no!" "Say it isn't true!" "He lives!" "We'll kill you for saying he's dead!"
In the fertile dung
nobody sees
the roots
spreading
like wild strawberry runners
playing on a hillside meadow.
New fruit springs forth.
Bert H. Hoff
Jan. 12, 1997
Stay tuned! The story will unfold here over the next week ...
Return to "Death, Birth, Transformation in the Men's Movement"