Red Raindrops Fell, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Red Raindrops Fell. This poem I dedicate to all veterans, past and present.

The red raindrops fell
Pitter patter thick as jell
Falling randomly
Like players placing their bet
Cleared with rateau de roulette

War is not a game
A winner we cannot claim
There are body counts
Each tagged then placed in a bag
Soon to be draped with a flag

None intend to die
Deny, is to tell a lie
They’re our true treasure
There’s a huge price that we pay
With tears falling every day

Without a goodbye
In the dark cold earth they lie
Silent they all are
In a place starkly barren
Not again to feel the sun

Fear Takes Many Forms, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Fear Takes Many Forms

Listen, do you hear it, that awful sound?
Grinding, knurling as if made by a beast!
Are we safe in the treeless open ground?

Far too easy here for us to be downed
I for one do not choose to be a feast.
Listen, do you hear it, that awful sound?

Here only my meatless bones will be found.
Care not to be referred to as deceased.
Are we safe in the treeless open ground?

Afraid that my ticket is stamped “hell bound.”
Forgotten, as if never did exist.
Listen, do you hear it, that awful sound?

Need I this situation to expound?
Again, again I shall ever persist.
Are we safe in the treeless open ground?

Am I so daring myself to be clowned?
Do you not fear the monster to be unleashed?
Listen, do you hear it, that awful sound?
Are we safe in the treeless open ground?

Love or Loneliness, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Two Human BeingsTwo Human Beings, Edvard Munch (1896)

Love or Loneliness

Which am I to choose?
Each providing great rewards.
Either way I lose!

If love be my fate,
I must share with another.
All else needs to wait!

If art is my life,
My mind free to ever roam.
Loneliness is rife!

Both have equal urge.
Love and art can’t coexist.
One I must now purge!

Art to be my choice.
Love can be ephemeral,
While art gives me voice!

Evening Talk, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Eveni talk black and whiteEvening Talk, Edvard Munch (1889)

Evening Talk

Even in the daylight there is darkness
The heavy leaded shield that hides the heart
Not allowing in loving tenderness
Suffocating any flame that may start

A woeful choice to request such a life
Forever absent of a human touch
The ever presence of deafening strife
Keeping a distance, avoiding a clutch

But why should one accept such drudgery
To wait for the day you are in a grave
Being lonely for an eternity
If only with a loving heart you gave

Resisting all love will not set you free
Instead, makes you a slave to hollowness
Thinking you are taking life so bravely
Your thinking is filled with much foolishness

The Still Tree, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

The Still Tree

The Still Tree

The nearly level sea so deadly still
As is the tree before me has no will
My mindless thoughts too are still and weary
I study the tree my eyes get dreary

With my eyes wide opened you are not there
Closed them tightly at your beauty I stare
There is brightness but there’s no moon or sun
Standing before me you’re the only one

Why behind the barren tree do you stand
It’s wistfully in the infertile sand
The tree of life it was longing to be
Is it to be a tale of woe for me

Speak much louder so that you I may hear
Your deep silence is what I truly fear
Will the next time you come for me to see
It is I who will be just like this tree

Dance of Life, a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

Dance of LifeDance of Life, Edvard Munch (1900)

Dance of Life

Never thought you would ever feel this way
To be alone, thinking it’s to be free
Your confused heart I wish to gently sway
Removing any reason you should flee

To be alone soon turns to loneliness
From the absence of tender loving touch
Showing understanding with a caress
A warming kiss of caring very much

Mental walls in your life start closing in
Trapped within the deep darkness of your soul
A precious life begins a downward spin
Where your mourning ends and death reaps its toll

So come dance with me and make a new life
Together we’ll chase away clouds of gray
Together our loud laughter will be rife
Oh how I wish that you’ll forever stay

Room Filled with Memories a poem by Robert A. Sieczkiewicz

smoke

Room Filled with Memories

The setting sun like a Christmas shopper
Elbowed its way through the grimy window
Filtered through gray swirls of cigarette smoke
Coming to rest on his crusty old face
Darted with numerous porcupine quills
Staring aimlessly at his headless beer
Giving it a quarter turn lifted it
To his chattering calloused puffy lips
His dewlap swings on cue with each guzzle
After three swings he closes his left eye
With spindle fingers aims for the sweat ring
Acting like the bombardier he once was
He has now had his limit for the day
Sliding slowly off his rickety chair
Making sure both feet were square on the floor
Tipping his cap he staggered to the door