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Men's Movement to Earth

Copyright © 1997 by Bert H. Hoff

This article appears in Vol. 1 #1 (Winter 1998) of 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."

Men's Movement to Earth

When a giant is slain,
  he takes
    a long
        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
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 ...

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