Tonight I Can Write

Edvard Munch

Starry Night

Tonight I Can Write

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example, 'The night is starry

and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.

'The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.

I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.

How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

To think that I do not have her.

To feel that I have lost her.

To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.

And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.

What does it matter that my love could not keep her.

The night is starry and she is not with me.

This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.

My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.

My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.

We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.

My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. As she was before my kisses.

Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.

Love is so short, forgetting is so long.

Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms

my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer

and these the last verses that I write for her.

~ Pablo Neruda ~

Is Anything

Edvard Munch

The Scream

Is Anything

Is what is what it was?

Was what was ever really what it is to me today?

Is what is what is was?

Is anything

Is anything

Is anything

What do you when you don't

What will you when you won't

Lay with me stay with me...fuck me baby

Is what is what it was?

Is anything
Is anything
Is anythng

Florida and blonde at fifteen, before

The sinking in of things, before
the critics in the wings

And the constant compromise

How can we have wondered about so much for so long

And received so few answers?
How can we have wondered about so much for so long

And received so few answers?

~ The Judybats ~

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Edvard Munch

White Night

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night.
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears,

I prayDo not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

~ Dylan Thomas ~

Two or Three Angels

Edvard Munch

Girls On the Jetty

Two or Three Angels

Two or three angels

Came near to the earth.

They saw a fat church.

Little black streams of people

Came and went in continually.

And the angels were puzzled

To know why the people went thus,

And why they stayed so long within.

~ Stephen Crane ~

How Will You Kiss?

Edvard Munch

Attraction

How Will You Kiss?

Lilt me your lips,

our lost breath intermingling.

Synchronize our silence

as lazy hours ease by.

Waft cocoa, hazelnut, cinnamon,

scents around me.

Tremble with me

in paralyzing pauses.

I may no longer breathe

without breathing you.

~ Judith Pordon ~

I like my body when...

Edvard Munch

Cupido

I like my body when...

I like my body when it is with your body.
It is so quite a new thing.

Muscles better and nerves more.

I like your body. I like what it does,

I like its hows. I like to feel the spine

of your body and its bones, and the trembling

-firm-smooth ness and which i will

again and again and again

kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,

I like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz

of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes

over parting flesh . . . . And eyes big love-crumbs,

and possibly i like the thrill

of under me you quite so new

~ e. e. cummings ~

I've nothing else -- to bring, You know

Edvard Munch

Ashes

I've nothing else -- to bring, You know

I've nothing else -- to bring, You know --

So I keep bringing These --

Just as the Night keeps fetching Stars

To our familiar eyes --

Maybe, we shouldn't mind them --

Unless they didn't come --

Then -- maybe, it would puzzle us

To find our way Home –

~ Emily Dickinson ~

And They Obey

Edvard Munch

Workers Returning Home

And They Obey

Smash down the cities.

Knock the walls to pieces.

Break the factories and cathedrals, warehouses and homes

Into loose piles of stone and lumber and black burnt wood:

You are the soldiers and we command you.

Build up the cities.

Set up the walls again.

Put together once more the factories and cathedrals, warehouses and homes

Into buildings for life and labor:

You are workmen and citizens all:

We command you.

~ Carl Sandburg ~

A Poison Tree

Edvard Munch

Dance On Shore

A Poison Tree

I was angry with my friend;

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I water’d it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears:

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine,

And he knew that it was mine.

And into my garden stole.

When the night had veil’d the pole;

In the morning glad I see,

My foe outstretch’d beneath the tree.

~ William Blake ~

Dream Girl

Edvard Munch

Madonna

Dream Girl

You will come one day in a waver of love,

Tender as dew, impetuous as rain,

The tan of the sun will be on your skin,

The purr of the breeze in your murmuring speech,

You will pose with a hill-flower grace.

You will come, with your slim, expressive arms,

A poise of the head no sculptor has caught

And nuances spoken with shoulder and neck,

Your face in a pass-and-repass of moods

As many as skies in delicate change

Of cloud and blue and flimmering sun.

Yet,

You may not come, O girl of a dream,

We may but pass as the world goes by

And take from a look of eyes into eyes,

A film of hope and a memoried day.

~ Carl Sandburg ~

Fear

Edvard Munch

Night in St. Cloud

Fear

Fear of seeing a police car pull into the drive.

Fear of falling asleep at night.

Fear of not falling asleep.

Fear of the past rising up.

Fear of the present taking flight.

Fear of the telephone that rings in the dead of night.

Fear of electrical storms.

Fear of the cleaning woman who has a spot on her cheek!

Fear of dogs I've been told won't bite.

Fear of anxiety!

Fear of having to identify the body of a dead friend.

Fear of running out of money.

Fear of having too much, though people will not believe this.

Fear of psychological profiles.

Fear of being late and fear of arriving before anyone else.

Fear of my children's handwriting on envelopes.

Fear they'll die before I do, and I'll feel guilty.

Fear of having to live with my mother in her old age, and mine.

Fear of confusion.

Fear this day will end on an unhappy note.

Fear of waking up to find you gone.

Fear of not loving and fear of not loving enough.

Fear that what I love will prove lethal to those I love.

Fear of death.

Fear of living too long.

Fear of death.

I've said that.

~ Raymond Carver ~

Solitude

Edvard Munch

Eve on Karl Johan

Solitude

Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,

But has trouble enough of it's own.

Sing, and the hills will answer;

Sigh, it is lost on the air.

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,

But shrink from voicing care.

Rejoice, and men will seek you;

Grieve, and they turn and go.

They want full measure of all your pleasure,

But they do not need your woe.

Be glad, and your friends are many;

Be sad, and you lose them all.

There are none to decline your nectared wine,

But alone you must drink life's gall.

Feast, and your halls are crowded;

Fast, and the world goes by.

Succeed and give, and it helps you live,

But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure

For a long and lordly train,

But one by one we must all file on

Through the narrow aisles of pain.

~ Ella Wheeler Wilcox ~

What Are Little Girls Made of?

Edvard Munch

Four Girls in Aasgaardstrand

What Are Little Girls Made of?

What are little girls made of?
Sugar and spice,
And everything nice,
That’s what little girls are made of.

~ Mother Goose ~

What Are Little Boys Made of?

Edvard Munch

The Four Sons of Dr. Max Linde

What Are Little Boys Made of?

What are little boys made of?
Snips and snails,
And puppy dog tails,
That’s what little boys are made of.

~ Mother Goose ~

Solitude

Edvard Munch

Melancholy

Solitude

To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,

To slowly trace the forest's shady scene,

Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,

And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been;

To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,

With the wild flock that never needs a fold;

Alone o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean;

This is not solitude, 'tis but to hold

Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.

But midst the crowd, the hurry, the shock of men,

To hear, to see, to feel and to possess,

And roam alone, the world's tired denizen,

With none who bless us, none whom we can bless;

Minions of splendour shrinking from distress!

None that, with kindred consciousness endued,

If we were not, would seem to smile the less

Of all the flattered, followed, sought and sued;

This is to be alone; this, this is solitude!

~ Lord Byron ~

What do Women Want?

Edvard Munch

Dance of Life

What do Women Want?

I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what's underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I'm the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment
from its hanger like I'm choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,
it'll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.

~ Kim Addonizio ~

Come Slowly

Edvard Munch

Amor and Psyche

Come Slowly

Come slowly, Eden

Lips unused to thee.

Bashful, sip thy jasmines,

As the fainting bee,

Reaching late his flower,

Round her chamber hums,

Counts his nectars - alights,

And is lost in balms!

~ Emily Dickinson ~

Mr. Brightside

Edvard Munch

Jealousy

Mr. Brightside

I'm coming out of my cage

And I've been doing just fine

Gotta gotta be down

Because I want it all

It started out with a kiss

How did it end up like this

It was only a kiss, it was only a kiss

Now I'm falling asleep

And she's calling a cab

While he's having a smoke

And she's taking a drag

Now they're going to bed

And my stomach is sick

And it's all in my head

But she's touching his-chest

Now, he takes off her dress

Now, letting me go

And I just can't look its killing me

And taking control

Jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Swimming through sick lullabies

Choking on your alibis

But it's just the price I pay

Destiny is calling me

Open up my eager eyes

'Cause I'm Mr. Brightside

~ The Killers ~

Mother to Son

Edvard Munch

Vampire (Love and Pain)

Mother to Son

Well, son, I’ll tell you:

Life for me ain’t be no crystal stair.

It’s had tacks in it,

And splinters,

And boards torn up,

And places with no carpet on the floor-

Bare.

But all the time

I’se been a climbin’ on,

And reachin’ landin’s,

And turnin’ corners,

And sometimes goin’ in the dark

Where there ain’t been no light.

So boy, don’t you set down on the steps

‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.

Don’t you fall now-

For I’se still goin’, honey,

I’se still climbin’,

And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

~ James Langston Hughes ~

SURVIVOR

Edvard Munch

Day After

SURVIVOR

Everyday,

I think about dying.

About disease, starvation,

violence, terrorism, war,

the end of the world.

It helps

keep my mind off things.

~ Roger McGough ~