There Will be No Statues

You are drawn to them.
Those noble heads of marble, plaster,
bronze or terra cotta in every museum.
Strong brows. Strong chins or luxuriant beards.
Heads tilted back imperiously. Eyes forward
survey all that is theirs.

You know, when they walked in a room,
there was a rustle. Admiration
of their pace and presence, of their suits
of fine cloth and just enough,
just the perfect color.

You can tell from their bearing
their voice was deep. full. It projects
without effort. And the eyes!
Even in stone, they are commanding
without effort.

Even in stone. Of course, in stone.
Mere mortals like me, a bit plain,
a bit broken and vulnerable
are not worth the effort and time
and expense of the sculptor’s hammer.
It is high-priced work, making statuary,
and the plain are not preserved.
There are too many of us. Nothing extraordinary

except for our energy. And that is our saving grace,
those of us who live not being seen. It is our energy
that lives and breathes fire and art and love letters
that are found in trunks long after we are dead.
It is our energy that is smart or sexy or strong,
invisible, undeniable in the moment,
but hard to preserve in stone.

Stone is, after all, static.
Once carved, it does not change,
unlike energy, a wild, savage thing
that takes on new life the moment its bearer dies,
A life museums can not contain,
and so they settle for the sculptures
I so admire.

About this poem.

I really am drawn to busts of great men in museums. They are like a detective story to me, trying to discern who they are from their well-carved features.

I always wanted to be tall, dark. and handsome, with a James Earl Jones voice. Alas, it was not meant to be. In college, one of my nicknames was “The Ugly Atkins.”

But I am not ugly. I am merely plain. I wear jeans, Henley shirts, and an old charcoal Brooks Brothers sport coat. It is easy for me to fade into the woodwork. Fortunately, I have a certain energy that people seem to like. And that is good enough for me. I am happy to take what God has given me. You can be too.

Tom