Munch Poems - Poems about Munch

there was an old man named Munch who decided on a tryst over brunch he thought he met the girl of his dreams she let out a scream and he said my dear I have something to paint over lunch ...

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And leaving all else, they debate on lunch. To one, lunch time was waste, hence, break-less munch. The other felt, lunch-less Would no new glory bless To UK, nor hoary Return to old glory, Lunch is a place mid-stream-- Island to which all swim, If cooler breaks are fine, Need for lunch-break’s genuine, For, from stomachs come working peoples’ punch. ____________________________ Happenings |20.12.2024|humour,...

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Mauricio, the merry moose in Lanny Locke’s garden let loose. He munched on mulberries, chips, chestnuts and cherries. The produce he poached was profuse! His cousin, Carol the cute caribou consumed cucumber, cabbage and cashews; and Kory the cute koala wandered down from Walla Walla bringing broccoli, beans and barbecue!...

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Not reflected in glass, though bathed in light I'm always only inches from the long dark night No certainty of self will I ever amass Though bathed in light, not reflected in glass The shadow of the frame falls on my spine It bolsters me up, stops me losing my mind Wrongly placed shadows in the darkness I claim Falls on...

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our joy creates spaces in the earth looking closely shows all those cut out hollows made by something else the moon sears away the leaves tresses tossed in the wind scratch wave & sky but our light shines on ...

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Munch Red & White* a perfect pictorial delight An allegory of types of love some say look&make of what you may...

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Romantically symbolic for sure Munch's metaphor takes the floor here in the Dance of Life* so many are especially rife...

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Violinist Eva Mudocci appears in the 'Brooch'* as you can see One of many of his models perhaps they were cuddled as well...

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The 'Voice-Summer night'* Edvard Munch first love at sight Milly ever on his mind a dalliance of the romantic kind...

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Edvard Munch's work often neurotic His 'Madonna'* is much more specific A typical recurring theme the artist's extrovert dream...

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. . . . scream* . . aa!!aa!!aa!!aa!!aa!!aa!!aa!!as!!aa!!aa!!aa!! . . . . . ...

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hear me out or don't it matters not ~ this recall isn't due to promises made to you for in the far away mind weighted and still spaces...

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"show me your face" growls subside upon revelation does your countenance veil mine? I see beyond sight and temporality still full of sorrow, though drawn in indisputably realised in your embrace no knowledge of how long I'd been adrift but right here, now, I cling to you I hold this moment with tenderness the essence of everything I crave to entrust...

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what percentage of the sun is madness ~ of the all consuming doesn't care less kind are we even talking percentages ...

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Hill sides Sides at all Distances Perspectives skew them Maybe I'm sat here looking out Or sat within imagining out Because out is where we drift I want to be carried away But I'm the part that lingers Like the train smoke Contained so beautifully As it should be Lasting for no longer than necessary Presumed to join the clouds But caught in the trees Where I can be...

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