The Girl and the Heart, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Girl and the Heart, Edvard Munch (1899)

The Girl and the Heart

I gave you my heart, knowing it meant death
Not of mortality, but of freedom
You had control over my every breath
Your new spring became my final autumn

The joys you lived became my misery
Cleverly you entered my every dream
Tormenting me with your boundless beauty
It awakens me from sleep by my scream

You’re in some distant place beyond my reach
Without ways my broken heart to reclaim
Even though constantly writing a speech
Constantly I am yelling out your name

Precocious lady you have won the game
For me, my life never to be the same

Blossom of Pain, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Blossom of PainBlossom of Pain, Edvard Munch (1898)

Blossom of Pain

When I die
I continue to live

My painful body
Placed in the ground
To return to dust
Whence I came
I become food
The food for new life

Return to where I lay
Pick the blossom
Each blossom is penance
To rid me of my pain

Place it to your lips
I will kiss you

Attraction I, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Attraction IAttraction I, Edvard Munch (1896)

Attraction I

In this world of twists and turns
Where tomorrow may not come
How it is there are many
Gladly challenging the Fates

Be a frivolous fancy
A wink of the eager eye
Two matches soon to ignite
Setting fire with unknown end

How they decide to decide
There is not a simple rule
Might be trial and error
Or just the aches of their hearts

Attraction, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Attraction Attraction, Edvard Munch (1896)


Standing as rigid as a steel pole
With a feeling of what is to be
By the way of her attacking stroll
To attack as would a hungry bee

Is it magnetic why the attack
Where opposites are pulled together
Must be more than the wind at her back
Or her thumb on a magic lever

She who has borrowed Cupid’s arrow
Stabbed him deeply so he bled dark red
She saw not a moment of sorrow
As a spider she has spun her thread

Is he too weak for refuge to seek
Is lead away so effortlessly
But not a single word does he speak
Why’s there no attempt to make a plea

The Bite, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

BiteThe Bite (Preliminary Study for The Kiss), Edvard Munch

The Bite

Bound in the whipping whirlwind of desire
Two lovers consumed by hot raw passion
Out of control in this demonic fire
Devouring them both in brazen fashion

What brings them to this height of sultry heat
Is there a struggle with disquietude
That impossible again that they meet
Fearing to life’s farewell they have been queued

Only in this flame can they be but one
It now as one they endear with no fear
Their sum energy is joined with the sun
Rising, rising until they disappear