“Cogitat; ergo est.”
Lovely yet lonely
A cold wind blows
A cold statue, it’s heart
Within, Bronze gold.
So lovely yet so lonely,
Who placed you here in wrought
With heart of gold in cold cast Bronze
Your sinews ‘gainst the dampness rot.
Why bitter towards the dampness,
Man with leaden soul?
Is it not enough to spite yourself
To wish you’re made of gold?
You’re paralyzed to freedom
Your timeless fate is wrought
Though your beauty be transcendent
Your proud pot steel is not.
Lonely yet so lovely
I shall set you free
Where be you, your desire
Where be that flame and fire?
Give but a rib
A ring I’ll make
Transposing cold pot passion
Into white hot pure desire
Destruction to construction,
The fire of my desire.
I’ll melt you down and mold you up
More perfect than before.
In jest why not an answer
In Bessemer forsaking.
Down, damn this prose,
away with sin,
a fusion’s in the making.
For corrupt your pride it will
It’s nature’s freedom fire;
The alchemy of flash-hot flame
Rekindling wrought’s desire.
In the suicide of giving,
A new ring of unity,
The ring shall set you free,
This time in Love incorruptible
No cast more perfect there can be.
I shall for you give to my she,
My she a gift of thee.
tom tenbrunsel
Carl Sandburg Writer 2023
Author’s Note: Originally written circa 1964 and revised in 1996 and again in 2022 before publication. The painting is of Rodin’s The Thinker (in the park of the Lindesche Villa with the family in the background) by Edvard Munch is in the public domain.
Art is passion. Fire is passion. Love is passion. The Thinker represents mankind’s desire to be, to think, yet to transpose, to resist fixation, to be more. To be other. To pursue. To move about. To transcend. Why was The Thinker not made out of gold? Or was he? Does thinking transcend love?
Comments