Ephemeral Love, a poem by Robert Sieczkiewicz

Ron Hicks http://www.tuttartpitturasculturapoesiamusica.com

Ephemeral Love, Robert Sieczkiewicz

Lovers they are, she the sun, he the moon,
How foolish two fools like them ever be.
They make love, they part, hope to see you soon.
Knowing it to be a sham as they flee.
Not true that they don’t for each other care,
Their worlds do different, circles travel.
How much private space they willing to share,
Together can make each life unravel.
Love is simply, one plus one equals one.
Until this answer is agreed upon,
Best not create plans that cannot be done,
For one or both shall decide to move on.
Till two are one love is ephemeral.
Think otherwise, get yourselves Demerol.

This is a Ron Hicks painting entitled The Love on the Road. After studying his painting for a while,  there was one thing that seemed out of place that made my change my approach to writing a poem. The man’s hand remains on the steering wheel.  To me it appears that he is waiting to make his escape. But look at the woman. She pulls his head close.  Hicks showing them going in two different directions shows that they are on different paths and that is how I attacked the poem. The rest is quite simple.  Using the sun and the moon from the earth’s perspective you may think they are close.  Yet their orbits are nowhere near or similar to each other.  As in the Big Bang theory pieces ran into each other, became one and followed a single orbit.  To last lovers need to do the same.


Reading, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


Reading, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Impatiently waiting, waiting for you,
Attempting to divert my mind I read,
Love poems which was not good choice to do.
Heart is so excited, my love do speed.
The summer dance in the past I recall,
Eager, nervous for our first rendezvous.
We laughed so loud when you using my shawl,
Twirled me a round and pulled me close to you,
My heart racing ev’r so fast, not the dance.
Music played on yet we standing embraced.
Suddenly realiz’d this was romance.
Quickly toward each other our lips raced.
You need not hurry any more my dear,
Yet memories of you to bring me cheer.

This painting is done by Berthe Morisot first shown 1874. She was one of the first Impressionists, and the first woman. In the painting Reading Morisot desires to capture the freshness of the great outdoors. It was she who made this point so I pick up on it in this poem. As first the speaker is impatient that her lover is late. Then as time passes she starts to enjoy the solitude of the outdoors even though she is thinking of him.



To Myself, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

To Myself Ron Hicks

To Myself, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Don’t dare to affix your name to my heart.
Over time list got long and all were wrong.
Let us be candid from the very start.
Spare the words, my feelings are more than strong.
Time will be for us the enduring test.
As two tender vines intertwine grow tall,
Shall we persist through our painstaking quest,
Able to claim that we bested them all.
When you think of me, lips will be silent,
Let your words be spoken by daily deeds.
Gifts not, when in sorrow be ev’r present,
It is I with heart with awkward needs.
Mysterious this may appear to be,
No more rewarding love ever to see.


When first coming across this Ron Hicks painting I was confused. If I had but one word to use to explain the painting it would be disheveled.   Coming back to it because I felt there was a feeling of sorrow being expressed in her body language.  She is not peering in fear as her eyes are boldly open and yet she has positioned her hands over her heart as to offer it protection.  The light is coming from her left.  Is she looking out the window or is someone sitting there?  Is she alone?  If she is alone it is not be choice as it goes against human nature.  Having studied many of Hicks’ painting he paints with a feeling for love so when writing about this woman I went with love.  I will leave to the reader to decide if someone was with her or was she setting out the rules for her next relationship should it happen.

Summer Evening, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


Summer Evening, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz
Dog days of summer they are called often.
Closeness not something really wanted.
Carnal love easy to be forgotten,
As for budding romance to be daunted.
Shall we let our love take a vacation,
Or are we missing a point of import?
Our relations is in termination.
If this be not true what do we purport?
You know just as I that this should not end.
Then it is we who must the puzzle solve.
If differences we cannot suspend,
This relationship will now be dissolved.
Difficult times such as these hearts get crushed,
As a spent cigarette then away brushed.


This painting, Summer Evening, was painted Edward Hopper in 1947.  World War II was over and America’s economy was confused, moving from a war economy to a peace economy.  Lives were thrown in to chaos.  Loving relationships were tested.

Chaos in human life could be the trademark of the Trashcan School to which Hopper was grouped into.  However, he never accepted belonging to the group.  He did paint what the members of the group did paint, everyday life.  He did however, more than the others shows a pessimistic attitude in most of his painting.  Of all the Ashcan School Hopper put the least content in his painting but gives us the most to think about.  Of course that is my opinion.






The Catskills, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


The Catskills, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

I walked into the forest yesterday.
Was so dark, visible the sky was not.
Saw Nature’s ideal seat, chose to stay.
Listen I did, not a sound in this spot.
Moved my eyes about, everything was stark.
Green, green, every damn thing I see is green!
Stop! Look! Listen! What do I hear? A Lark!
Seeking elusive Lark made my eyes keen.
Up from my seat, a step began the search.
Climb and crawl, I did it all to find out,
That all was not green such as the white birch.
Reached a stream dashing by, saw rainbow – trout.
The forest is filled with beauty so great,
All that is needed is determined gait.


You will notice how the artist has used light to pull us into the painting but in reality a forest is not like that.  Upon entering you step into a shadow, much like life and that is what this poem is really about.  When I was small I never left the neighborhood.  Never realized how poor we were until I left my grandmother, who raised me as a child. To me it was a big scary world out there.  I was safe on the little farm but that couldn’t be my life.

The Forest is the world and it is not the same as the speaker first claims.  You need to get out there and explore.  And what guides your exploration? The Lark represents something you believe in.  Go after it.  The gait is your desire to achieve it. It is that simple.  Don’t sit still in the darkness.

This painting was done by Asher Brown Durand in 1859.  He was a member of the Hudson River School.  If you were to look at the work of these painters they have a common thread: new pathways into the hinterlands.  They were not dreamers they were planners for the future.

The Bower Meadows, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz


The Bower Meadows, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Thee pluck strings if attached to thine own heart.
Thee sing of love yet thou heart is silent.
Does thou now choose to silently repent?
Hast thou love abruptly chose to depart?
What ailment hinders so help to impart?
This emptiness of heart thee must relent,
For thy heart and pure soul be resplendent.

The man who I see pledged love totally,
Is I with doubt about eternity.
I weigh and measure, it sounds so silly.
Is this action against love cruelty?
It is just that the heart acts not surely.
What if my feelings prove to be faulty?


There is a question the I am proposing in this poem.  When do we know its love?  Often, the young a physically attracted.  Biological pairing is at work. As we get older other factors come into play.  But here we have a young woman who is not sure.  She neither talks positively or negatively about the person she is seeing, dating, or whatever, term you choose.  Her friend is trying help by coaxing it out of her with a series of questions.

The sad young lady respond and finally admits she is afraid.  Her issue is she just doesn’t want to take a chance on love.  Maybe she was hurt before.  The model to the right, the one I’ve referred to as the sad one is Alexa Wilding.  Although beautiful many painters complained that was her normal expression.


Pietà (Pity), a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz




Pieta (Pity), Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Mother Mary the Immaculate one,
Here I kneel before a cold piece of stone,
Cover my ears for I can hear the moan.
Don’t truly understand what we have done,
With no guilt, to the tree we nailed thy son.
His words rung so clear, to be a new throne,
‘Nother nail pounded I feel in my heart the groan.
His reward did they seek now do they shun.

Mother Mary send us thy holy dove,
With a sign of thy sacred Son’s message,
That those confused of His eternal love,
Shall be welcomed by every babe and sage.
Pray thou love may we not be deprived of,
And to thy Son show us the right passage.


This is my first poem about a statuary.  Not sure if there is a piece more famous than the Pieta done by Michelangelo.  I saw it once and was held dumbfounded. Being a catholic it had meaning to me.  Standing before it I felt agony in my chest.

I think this poem is a straight forward read; however, for posterity sake I will provide some insight to what was put in the poem to create atmosphere and feeling. Michelangelo started with a piece of stone and the speaker give it life by hearing it moan. By giving the stone life we can now talk about the man.  The speakers talks about the life of Jesus and the crowds he drew, but when he was nailed to the tree there were few.  We have the speaker really personalizing it when he feels it in his heart.

Next the speaker offers a prayer.  The dove is the Holy Spirit.  To understand lines 3 and 4 you really need to dig deep in to the writings of Paul. But I will try.  Jesus died as he did because as a human he had faith in the Father.  And it is our faith in Jesus’ faith that will get us to the Father.  I’m not a biblical scholar so if I have it wrong please forgive me. Finally, the speakers asks  Mother Mary for forgiveness.  Don’t deprive us of her love and help us find the way to her Son.  I hope you enjoy the poem.  It was a heart warming experience for me.