Listening, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

ListeningThe Red Canoe, Winslow Homer (1889)


The sun made its entry on this spring day
Could hear the winged choir in the brackish marsh
No idea what they’re sending my way
For sure it wasn’t the weather being harsh

Mist floated off the refreshing mirror
Eye high to me sitting in the canoe
Fish had an appointment with this angler
Want to introduce my pan to a few

Mist is now history, not a nibble
Not a concern, canned tuna on the shelf
Idleness a chance my future to mull
Realizing world is more than myself

Nice to get away from problems that weigh
Listen what the inner self has to say


It is You, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

It is YouBerthe Morisot, Edouard Manet (1869)

It is You

Why is it that love has become a chore
It is you I give myself evermore
It is you only that I do adore
It is you I could not love any more

It is you who truly make my life bright
It is you I desire to hold so tight
It is you I want always in my sight
It is you I hunger for every night

It is you who now give an awful fright
It is you who I fear may soon take flight
It is you whose heart I must reignite
It is you my loving heart that I plight

If it be that your love I can’t restore
Shall quickly quit this life forevermore

The Candle, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Woman with a Taper, Jules Breton 1873Woman with Taper, Jules Breton (1873)

The Candle

Candle’s glow let forever to be your guide
Making sure its bright flame never to quit
The wind’s access must always be denied
Wind is evil, tempting you to submit

Might your candle’s glow suddenly disappear
Do not place it in a darkened drawer
For your future will then become nadir
Must make an effort its flame to restore

Surround yourself with those whom you think dear
Be not afraid to share what is you fear
If true to yourself future will be clear
The glow of the flame you now will restore

Light of the candle to you be sacred
Then drink of His wine and eat of His bread



Sea Calling Me, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Sea Calling MeImage manipulated by author

Sea Calling Me

In quiet stillness I observe the hue
Of the mighty endless sea before me
Sweeping eyes drinking the depth of her blue
With desire to be consumed by this sea

I’ve visited her countless times before
She always seems to appeal to me more
Calling me with gentleness of her shore
Her soft tender loving clutch I adore

I am naked to all of her power
Still shy, with my toes I touch her azure
Her wave coaxes me a little closer
Now I am totally consumed by her

Joy as she touches every part that be
She gives me a feeling of being free


Nana, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

NanaNana, Edouard Manet (1877)

Book by Emile Zola


You have the power to control the sun
There’s not a man who your beauty would shun
A magnetic allure second to none
The world’s most desirable courtesan

Not very long ago you walked the street
Elevated to stage door men you’d greet
Now many men lay prostrate at your feet
Creating dreams for fools by your deceit

Do wonder what it is you have inside
Some darkened secret of the past you hide
Never thinking to be a loving bride
Surely absent is a life filled with pride

Easily shared your body not amour
You do know you are but a high priced whore


Suicide, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

SuicideLe Suicide, Edouard Manet (1877)


Is true to what I have really done
Desire to rid myself of misery
Lying here still bleeding holding a gun
In death thinking I’d be totally free

There is torture in the time that remains
Bed continues to hold her luscious scent
My sick heart shackled in her mighty chains
Absent her savage kiss I now lament

I’m afraid now to close these heavy eyes
In her full beauty she shall reappear
Knowing she is the devil in disguise
To guide me straight to hell is what I fear

It is love that caused the hellish nightmare
And life only comes with a one way fare

Barn, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

BarnAllensville Hay Press Barn, Switzerland County, Gwen Gutwein (2008)


Its many boards of gray are on display.
Their opened grain bear the signs of aged pain.
From their perfect centers did move away.
Long gone are the days of its mighty reign.

Shows no mighty power to right itself,
Relying totally on my pity.
Knowing each board makes for a proper shelf,
Adding many dollars to my kitty.

Once inside I could feel its unique scent,
Wondering where all those memories went.
Where I day upon day happily spent,
Lingering has changed my early intent.

I’d better go and fetch the proper crane,
As this is where this creature shall remain.