Edvard Poems - Poems about Edvard

Turpentine waters of paranoia ripple beneath an opaque surface, merging with the burnt umber sun, ravenously setting over the savage distance. Did the earth just crack open within its core...? An ungovernable fear hastens— up my spine ...

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. "hi little birdie" I heard thuh slight ...

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. not not whilst pneuma ...

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. thump bang boom ...

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. when there's no more flowers ...

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. Locked mine duke theirn digits your camisole ...

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fragility of reason ~ ululates upon brush strokes of despair...

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Behold the bather astride the river, resplendent in rainbow-dappled nudity his sense of light and air and wetness ebbs and flows like his emotions, colors shift and swirl in response to the universe of his creativity....

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Oblong outlines of a soul Stretched in elliptical misery Redefines the perfect circle To a breakable volatile tautness Loosely cloaked in sheaths of epitonic blue Draped upon the shrinking body to hide a terrified world Dressed in swirling ominous patterns of anonymity To be lost within the deepest abyss of fatal fear Planted like a tenuous girder of iron truth On a...

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Edvard Munch An Ekphrasis Stylized Poem of Jealousy Oh, ancient Oden! I summon your primitive hand. Take this oiled brush I hold, and order my strokes with your command. With deep red, spilling like blood across the land, she appears as the object of my affection, nude and reaching toward a tree as if to lure my enemy, with want...

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The snow falls white in Norway just like anywhere else in the world. The snow falls white in Norway like the smoke from a cigarette. The blue mists lap at coat tails only in a self-portrait in Norway. Pale brown eyes shine, surprised to see you only in a self-portrait in Norway. One hand holding time itself, slipping. One hand held firmly in the...

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I leave the auction sick, my mettle frayed A ghost, I fear, in oil clutched near my side No doubt, a ghost for which I've dearly paid! How best to next proceed, I must decide The painting I have bought portrays a man laid out upon a bed as if he sleeps A woman stands beside the low divan Offhand, I'd guess...

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Red House and Spruce by Edvard Munch Snug, in a blue bunting of hibernation, Red cottage In a clearing of indigo and ice spruce That form ribs of protection from From hues of ill winds, As a leafless birch backbone Spreads a protective circle, Sentinels of secrets Behind the hidden crimson door When eventide’s crystal constellations Of fallen cerulean white snows Sleep...

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At first glance ... Amid turbulent strokes and vivid hues, eyes mesmerized by maiden's molten-red mane— Love and Pain Gently kissing her lover's nape in tender embrace, while Pain's lurking specter overshadows their intimate space, threatening Love's fragile grace Second glance ... Gent's deathlike pallor portrays a chilling alternative motif. Is love really her goal, or is she nosferatu feasting on a submissive soul? Dark eyes reflect the lurking specter's desire— Vampire...

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When love is torn asunder and there is nothing left but dissent, a lover's heart will be shattered, mortally wounded and rent. In a relationship that was once held as sacred and eternal, sorrow takes a heavy toll on the one left behind, and infernal flames of grief scorch the lonely heart so that it must dwell, suffering in what...

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