The Scream


the red sinews
within yellow jacket 
sky sting

darkness there
before the sun sets, to
take in his hands 

hard to tell
what hell
the bridge is over

behind,
two mothers aren't
hearing how
he survives this black
joy —

the canvas is
under his skin.
his eyes cut
open his mouth —

drop the 
scream


* based on the painting, "The Scream" by Edvard Munch
Copyright © | Year Posted 2026

Poem

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Hwang Avatar
February 8, 2026 at 2:48 PM
It contains powerful imagery and sensations reminiscent of Edvard Munch’s painting The Scream."
Dietrich Avatar
February 6, 2026 at 9:57 PM
That is a very powerful painting and so is your interpretation of it, Paige.
George Avatar
February 6, 2026 at 8:27 PM
Great description of the painting. Paige, you can confidently embark on writing Ekpharsis. I think this is your first.
Nicole Avatar
February 6, 2026 at 5:22 PM
' within yellow jacket, ' and, ' this black joy. ' I was thinking this was a ' bee ' you were talking about, with this description. I can see the painting as well. Your pen is golden, my sweet friend. Hugs and blessings to you. ~ Brandy
Rodrigues Avatar
February 5, 2026 at 4:56 AM
Wow! Great opener and closer. Surely, you captured this painting, and its artist, in a unique and graphic way!
Etgen-Baker Avatar
February 3, 2026 at 4:10 PM
outstanding sescriptive poem that aptly fits the 'Scream' painting. talented you are!
Kauffman Avatar
February 3, 2026 at 12:20 PM
Love the formatting of you poem, Paige. The short, very descriptive phrases are like a sudden scream. I really love the work of Edvard Munch! Blessings!
Rodgers Avatar
February 3, 2026 at 6:56 AM
Dear Paige, it feels like you crawled inside the painting and wrote from the ribcage outward. I love that you didn’t try to “explain” the painting, you let the body speak instead. It is that moment the canvas stops being art and becomes a mirror. Winter Blessings, Paige, Daniel
Daniels Avatar
February 3, 2026 at 6:08 AM
Wow, PH. I’m delighted you did an Ekphrasis. Munch copies the Van Gogh style a bit : perhaps they have a similar psyche. The colours of this one is a bit darker though. I like these lines in your poem : the canvas is under his skin. “hard to tell what bridge he is under”. It is up to observer to decide that as each will be different. Your stanza on not listening holds a crucial msg. for everyone. ThkU 4 your insight. Hugs.
Anaya Avatar
February 2, 2026 at 8:59 PM
So much detail, an interesting synopsis & great choice! "his black joy" it reminded me of Keats "his bright star" cool, love your voice!
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