FIVE THOUSAND DEAD GODS

I go for an awful lot of poetry but I came across this and I really enjoyed it. I even smiled a few times.

It's by glennlogan 

No god I know is still alive -
all five thousand and seven
appear to have died.

The great god Huitzilopochtli 
led the Aztecs' divine pack -
but He departed awhile back.

Zeus was fun, and had His run, 

but while disguised as a swan,

they say, His neck got wrung.

Pluto - God of the Underworld, 

offended the ladies of Hades,

and got buried in his own Hell.

Thor, I'm told, was big and bold,

but going out without a cloak, 

they say, He died of the cold.

And ghosts of dead Indian gods 

can't even haunt a decent tepee, 

and many die on late night T.V.

No prisoners tremble on the altar

when their beating hearts are torn

to join Tezcatlipoca in the sky.

And no children scream as they 

are loaded onto the simple machine

that feeds them to Moloch's fire.

And for ancient Greece's Dionysus, 

no drums sound, no flute plays -

but, oh, weren't those the days!

The goddesses, too, we must include,

for all were dear to some, and lived 

in our hearts until the time had come.

There was Athena , Gaia, and Kore,

Xochiquetzal, Minerva, and Astarte, 

Ixtab, Kuan Yin, and Kali of course. 

Five thousand gods and goddesses - 

maybe ten or a hundred fifty thousand 

or more, there might have been. 

But the goddesses and gods have all 

gone, one by one, until there are none 

but those that are still willed alive.

- Gods and goddesses kept alive 

by people still believing - still 

trusting - in their own creations.

Pinocchio becomes god of the wood, 

while Pygmalion falls on his knees 

before his goddess of stone, Galatea. 

We remember the Loving Mother 

and the Father the All-Mighty 

looming large in an infant's eyes.

For each girl-woman makes the God 

she craves and needs - then kneels 

before Him and says, "Oh, please!"

And each boy-man makes himself

a Goddess that he wishes,

giving a Mother's hugs and kisses.

And older men and women tend 

to make our gods with 

wrinkled brow and constant pout.

Still we always make our gods 

to look a lot like me and you - 

one head, one mouth, two eyes.

But the god of songbirds flies, 

and the gods of all the fishes 

must swim through ocean skies.

The god of cattle may be a bull, 

or just maybe it's a cow - 

I can't hope to settle that now. 

But I am well informed by 

one who ought to know:

the god of dogs is a bitch!

God laughs? Not on your life!

The joke's on us - but I'm told

She's heard this joke before!

I hope that you enjoyed it at least half as much as I did.