by LB
A few days ago, I found a comic strip using characters called “The Almighty” and “Mrs. Almighty” (Non-Sequitur by Wiley Miller) and posted it on my Facebook account. It made me think about the poetry I’ve written about not only God but also “Mrs. God.”
So today I took some time off my current project of getting old and sick and weak and helpless to look for the Mrs. God poems I’ve written in the past. For a while the search seemed hopeless, but this morning I found what I was looking for which means–
It’s time to share!!!
Here we go:
What About Mrs. God?
When I was in high school, in the days before
Anything was P.C., Tiersky the tenor sax man
And I would throw around our ideas about God.
One day, Tiersky said, “What about Mrs. God?
What’s the story on her? I mean, if we’re made
In God’s image, and marriage is part of our lives,
Shouldn’t God be married too? And what’s
She like? Our fathers’ wives? Our mothers?
My Aunt Dorothy? Well? What do you think?”
At the time, I didn’t think much. I was too busy
Feeling God’s new teenage chemistry surging
Inside. I was too busy suffering the slings and
Arrows of adults, too busy wondering not about
Women but girls and why I had to chase
Them when in the Beach Party movies they were
Always throwing themselves at the guys. So Mrs. God
Meant no more to me than, say, Mrs. S. Claus, living in a
Heaven no nearer—and no farther—than the
North Pole.
Recently, though, while counting my misfortunes
(It took a math co-processor, an equation editor,
And an Intel Inside with a Pentium chip)
I found myself considering not only God,
But the whole God family: God’s Son, of whom
We all know; His daughter, of whom we do not;
God’s dog, and cat, and maybe His turtle or
Goldfish. (God’s goldfish, what a life!)
And, of course, God’s wife. If she is like the
Wives of our fathers, then I understand Him a
Lot more, and assume He is constantly assailed
Not by unbelievers but by homey talk, and that
To keep the peace, he pretends to listen now and again.
If she is like the wives of our fathers, then God
Makes no decisions (perhaps never did)
Once he leaves His Tabernacle, and in all
Likelihood harbors strange, indecent urges and
Needs. Hey, let’s face it: If God’s wife is the
Inspiration for the wives of our fathers,
Then God probably is thinking
Divorce.
Hmm, the more I consider, the more
I understand. And the more I understand, the more
I too can forgive. Nevertheless, if there is a Mrs. God,
And she is like all the Mrs. Of my parents’ generation,
Why isn’t she doing her job? We’ve all
Seen God’s handiwork lately, right?
So why isn’t she being a good little woman
And screwing new bulbs in the Old Man’s
Burned-out Logos of a Light?
###
God Should Have Married A Shiksa
God should have married a shiksa.
The world would be different, take it from me.
I’ve known a lot of Jewish women,
Grew up surrounded.
Reminded me of my mother,
Did my two Jewish wives,
And pleasing them soon became
As impossible as pleasing her.
Shiksas are another matter entirely.
There’s a reason my Jewish mother
Told me to stay away. They’re brought up to
Take care of their men—Regardless—
And regardless is what all men need.
If God married a shiksa,
He’d awaken every morning with a smile,
And be delighted to meet even mankind’s
Most outrageous demands.
If God married a shiksa,
We would all be the children of—
If not a Father—at least a
Mother who knew how to give.
God Should Have Married Gwen
###
God Should Have Married My Love.
The world would be different, take it from me.
If God married my love,
Her concern would clothe Him
Like the finest satin or silk, and
He would learn to hear even His
Most hidden of mysteries, and speak
Their secret names without fear.
If God married my love,
Her warmth would surround Him
Like soft fleece or down, and
He would know not only satisfaction,
But true friendship as well.
He would understand what it means to
Do for others with no concern for Himself,
And be delighted to meet even the
Most outrageous of outrageous mankind’s demands.
If God married my love,
Her purity would envelope Him
Like the waters of a serene sea, and
We would all be the children of a
Mother who knew how to suckle
Not only with her breasts but with her heart.
Ah, if God could in truth marry Gwen,
The world would be different, take it from me.
With her help and example
Our Father who Art would—after all
These Millennia!—
At last become Our Father Who Knows
What Loving Is.
###
