Tag Archives: Edvard Munch

Edvard Munch and Me, a poetry book by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

My latest poetry book

Description of book

This book of poetry is an experiment which focuses on the life of Edvard Munch, an Expressionist artist who created paintings based on what he saw and felt internally. The author studied the diaries as well as several biographies of Munch. The notes in his diaries weaved a life of love, hate, anxiety and death. In his book of poetry the author has included many quotes he used in an attempt to take on the voice of Munch. Each of the author’s poems written relates to a specific piece of art done by Munch. Many of the poems relate the to Munch’s time just before entering a sanitarium for alcoholism and mental issues. The author feels that he has a better understanding of the complexity of life by having studied the life of Edvard Munch.

My book will soon be available at Amazon.com

Since my blog is not monetized I will be posting a link to purchase the book. Once the paperback is done an e-book will be made available.

Magic, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Edvard Munch, Two Human Beings. The Lonely Ones (1905)

Magic

There’s such a magical moment
When you’re ever close by my side
But sad when you’re at a distant
There’s such a magical moment
To feel your kisses so potent
Giving feelings that I can’t hide
There’s such a magical moment
When you’re ever close by my side

The Artist and His Model, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Artist and His Model, Edvard Munch (1921)

This wanting heart is tugged by my feelings
As soon as she enters my barren room.
For it is special excitement she brings
That shall certainly result in my doom.
Her robe slides off as if doing a waltz
Now displaying the body of Venus.
I am overcome by my many faults!
Possessed by thoughts my bed will comfort us.
Adjusting her pose I touch her soft skin.
Looking at her I see a glowing smile
To place her head my hand is on her chin.
Desiring her there can’t be denial!
Her thick ruby red lips my brush does paint.
Deep thoughts of those lips enveloping mine.
My growing desire there is no restraint
Of her delicious body I must dine.
As if a drug addict I am controlled
By painful desire toward each model.
Mad, mad, to the Devil I have been sold
To share a love and life I’m unable.

Spring, 1889, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Spring, 1889 Edvard Munch

The winter winds have paved the way for spring.
It is now time to open the windows,
To change the stale air and hear the birds sing.
Like sails, the white curtains the soft wind blows.

Silently she sits staring into space,
As her mind tries to remember the past,
While the sun’s warmth falls upon her pale face.
Blank without expression she is downcast.

To the question she can find no answer.
So weak is she her soft voice does not speak.
Will there be joy for her in the future,
Or like foretime and today one that’s bleak?

The birds went silent, her arms by her side,
There’ll be no tomorrow for she has died.

Evening, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

EveningEvening, Edvard Munch (1888)

Evening

A time between the bright heat of the sun
And the cool darkened shadows of the moon
A time to consider what has been done
And what’s to be accomplished very soon

It is not a time for melancholy
Nor to be consumed by fanciful dreams
As both will lead to dangerous folly
Creating vicious pain from mental screams

Evening is not a time to hesitate
For the eyes will begin to get heavy
The mind soon unable to contemplate
Important to plan the future wisely