Renaissance Existential

Time has wept on his thigh. Marked

the future with disorder. In a close-up

of David’s hand, 

his body’s white marble appears hollow. Holed

by the indelicate hours that have left

him behind. The feminine curve

of his fingers speaks to history,

questioning 

what will remain. Might we someday

all of us be myth. Might we someday

all of us matter enough

to be chiseled 
across nothingness


into order. In the beginning,
God created. What was meant

to follow

is anybody’s guess. Why


must every warrior

be also

stone. Calling 
for the dance, then


bowing to the road

leaving longing.

Author's Note

2016

Reviews

[SkinlessFrank]

I see this as a reminder that creation, whether divine or artistic, does not guarantee a way out of the existential dilemma. I recently had a long discussion with my daughter’s boyfriend, about how philosophers view existence; he has a degree in the subject but is now a carpenter. The discussion led us to muse about what exactly is the “this-ness” of existence we all feel but cannot explain.

Our philosophical discussion led my daughter's boyfriend to suggest that I read some of what Heidegger has to say about existence. As a child I lived in Italy, and I think I can recall seeing the light within David’s white marble. This image you portray of the hollow body makes me think about Heidegger’s critique of the idea that being is simply solid presence. The hollowing of the body in your poem suggests that what looks fully present, at its core, is not. So “this-ness” again eludes definition. Existence has no inner substance to secure it.

[Eilis]

Must have been magical growing up around so much history and western cultural touchstones. I have always had a sort of awe and dread where these artifacts are concerned. You can feel the souls of things emanating out. Perhaps these are the things make us feel our own questions and doubts more urgently. Things that symbolize humanity in ways but also feel remote—make us feel our smallness. Something where the existential and spiritual come together and make all the questions feel more unanswerable. So much hinges on interpretation. Which is in itself maddening. Thanks for the interesting ideas on this. Your comments make me see my poems from another side.