Empty Chair, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Empty ChairSovekammer, Vilhelm Hammershøi (1890)

Empty Chair

Why is there an empty chair by the bed
Is there more than what’s already been said
Of some awful thought which most surely dread
The fact that someone is really dead

Does not matter big or small, short or tall
But sooner or later we all must fall
Each will wear once the paltry saintly pall
While the lofty choir sings a pastoral

None should be eager for that final day
But live life in the best possible way
Dividing your time between love and play
Yet never praying forever to stay

Best that we can ask is our lives be good
Lives are temporary is understood

Subway Ride Home, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Subway Ride Home

Subway Ride Home

She stood silent while is handed the bag
Nodding with thanks she turns, heads for the street
Her feet are slow, almost needing to drag
Outside it is cold, just starting to sleet

Walk to the subway a mere thousand feet
But for her it is that in hilly miles
Her heavy head down, there’s no one to greet
There are thoughts if there’ll be any more smiles

Steps she climbs to the platform are painful
The rail she holds tight, the bag much tighter
Now feels like she’s carrying an anvil
Knowing that the bag will not get lighter

The train has the force of a nor’easter
She clutches the bag like it were a child
Hoping the door will be in front of her
Inside a safe feeling but not beguiled

Gently places the bag upon the seat
The train will now carry it to its home
Closing her heavy eyes, again they meet
With tears like tropic rain, she says “Shalom”

Nothing special about the bag itself
What is inside was most of her life
Container once home to be on a shelf
For sixty two years she was his wife

 

The Terminal, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The TerminalSandro Botticelli, Drawing for Dante’s Divine Comedy, 1480-95

The Terminal

A desk-clerk’s inaudible voice crackles
Giving the departures and arrivals
Some people moving as if in shackles
While others on their back carry anvils

Acrid air itself held a prisoner
Resisting but no choice I have to breathe
Feels heavy, making everything a blur
Got the feeling of being in a sheathe

Grimy concrete gives unobtrusive paths
To inauspicious restrooms and seating
Concrete texture constant outside the baths
A long hot one wish will soon be taking

Taxing but decided to take a seat
Having ample time before departing
Thought the less than being on angry street
Of shoving people and taxis blaring

In my mind am querying why this route
Are Dante and Virgil soon to arrive
Surely Beatrice will not come about
Is this my penance in this morose hive

Vanquished people trudging by looking up
Checking changes made to scheduling board
While others spread their meaningless gossip
Feeding on those who tend their sacred hoard

I now begin staring at the schedule
The click, changing from on time to delay
Creating a pain extremely awful
Causing my gray mind to begin to stray

Bowing my head yielding to this defeat
Wondering if I will get out of here
There are now cold shackles upon my feet
Now leaving has become my greatest fear

A Mother’s Grief, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

A Mother's GriefExtreme Unction, Jakub Schikaneder (1897)

A Mother’s Grief, Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

She stands there lifeless unable to cry
A heart so crushed it not wanting to beat
Refusing to say her final goodbye
To her child she visions as being sweet

Wishes was she to be put in the ground
But hears “Mother” from others’ needy call
Turns slowly in fear of seeing the mound
Finding no comfort from cold hardened wall

Lantern out, she sees in total darkness
Her little girl who’s afraid of the night
Reaching out but there’s nothing to caress
She cries into the pillow held so tight

From that bleak night years have now slowly passed
Undying love for her child still held fast

 

Morning Kiss, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Morning KissRomeo and Juliet, Frank Dicksee (1884)

Morning Kiss

Each morning I climb a dangerous vine
In search of the fair maiden Juliet
Her sweet kiss is my daring aim to get
A sign our hearts continue to align
That forever her love is only mine
Lovers joined our hungry lips do we set
The dangers of this kiss does she opine

My Love is no choice for us to linger
Though I sorrow each moment we’re apart
Hold me for a second more then must go
Dare not be caught within my bed chamber
Cold steel surely would meet your heated heart
Together we will die my Romeo

 

Scarred Heart, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Scarred HeartThe Black Brunswicker, John Everett Millais (1860)

Scarred Heart

My love there is no need you to explore
The human misery that comes with war
Bodies strewn upon a cold earthen floor
While love ones’ hearts wear an eternal scar

Why the chance that you may soon lose your life
Shall there be such a personal reward
Greater than for us to be man and wife
The thought it possible my heart is charred

Can there be for you a love more than I
Gave to you what can but be given once
With a love meant never to say goodbye
Love for you is of greatest salience

There is but bloody hell beyond this door
Destined am I to see you nevermore

 

The Visitors, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The VisitorsLa Neige, Charles-François Daubigny (1873)

The Visitors

The snow’s cold whiteness creeps up to my door
While the melancholy sun bids farewell
Mystically crows swarm more than five score
There is an urgent message they must tell

Raising my shovel they will not scatter
With great fear I hold my quivering breath
It’s easy to understand their banter
These darkened creatures sing their song of death

Where summer they’d quietly steal my corn
Autumn barren fields provide easy prey
Not here to repay my gun’s bitter scorn
No they’re just here to say this is my day

Would prefer a single singing angel
Rather than this rowdy crowd of babel