Herbie Mann Comin' Home

Monday, April 25, 2011

That Time Of The Deity

Being it's the month of 45 and rainy

one gazes at the deck and wonders

if I saw a god's face, I might turn it to stone,

or draw mustache or scribble some jokes

or become like rain myself or forget my name

Being it's a week of the 45, rainy,

too cool for the deck, one stalls in the thought

about just what makes things a god and

whether I could make one an ornament from stone

or paste it to pictures of cities far off as a cute joke.

Being the remainder is 45, rainy, 

such final days are to brood

over whether to bury or burn, dig down a god

alongside me -- or mount us both on the mantle,

twin boys, and obsessed for fame, for esteem, to be loved.



  1. Trulyfool,
    I liked the repetitive ideas of thought.
    Interesting images......

    Best wishes, Eileen

    PS: Good to have you at Poets United!

  2. I wish I could find 45 months in a year, or even re-discover the month when I was 45... But being loved will do instead, though perhaps not on a mantelpiece! LOL

  3. Cold and wet. And dark. May the gods damn it all! Head for the sun, and leave the mantle for trinkets and antique photos.

    Or maybe you just need a stiff drink, TF.


  4. HoneyH,

    Thank you. I've been in a fog lately, but managed this one.


  5. Eileen,

    Thank you for such greeting!

    The repetition became its form. Not sure how it took shape or at what point.


  6. Jinksy,

    I realized recently that I work 14 days per week, so that's 24 months. (Maybe if we simply 'get more productive' -- perhaps cut back on the paperclip budget?)


  7. Rick,

    I've been watching so many British detective DVDs that I was actually thinking of tippling 'a good malt'.

    But that might indeed put me on the mantel.

    Sun is the better cure, and it's a-coming!