June 2020 Voicing Art Poetry Reading + Poems

inspired by the 1918 pandemic-era artists, Munch, Schiele + Klimt

JOY | Heather Swick

[inspired by ‘Red House and Spruces’, 1927
by edvard munch]


I remember a time of joy, music, art, and wonder.
I remember a time of energies moving with motion and melody.
I remember a time when colors collided and the stars aligned.
I remember a time when we would curl up on the couch together and be still as the magic of the moment unfolded.

Ah, yes! It was that time….
…..of joy and beauty, and joining colors.
It was that time that I came home. 


PING-PONG | Heather Swick

[inspired by ‘The Scream’, 1893
by edvard munch]

above below center
accept refuse center
afraid brave center
against for center
arrival departure center
asleep awake center
careful careless center
changeable constant center
cloudy sunny center
dark light center
dust dawn center
far near center
finish begin center
freeze melt center
hopeful hopeless center
inside outside center
interrupt continue center


THE FALL | Heather Swick
[inspired by ‘The Scream’, 1893
by edvard munch]

The veils fell downward 
having done their work
I returned to my center. 

MUNCH'S MADONNA | JC - The Poartry Project

[inspired by ‘Madonna’, color lithograph, 1895-1902
by edvard munch]















How would we be different
if we reckoned Death as a beautiful woman
skin of radiant light and nocturnal hair
liberator and warrior of the spirit
with the gentle kiss of belladonna lips
releasing us into the slipstream of continuous being?

How would we be different
if we knew Death as the Angel
banishing the creeping hood –
and the bony joint –
and the shadowed scythe reducing us to wheat
to be cut down –
not raging into an encroaching night
but walking tall and elegant into dawning day?

How would we be different
towards the most gentle companion of the radiant hand
walking with us tenderly –
the one sure presence
as we walk the sacred ground
towards our hidden home
that some of us remember –
who knew us before
and will know us again,
whose living credo is, ‘do no harm’,
as the maternal guide
into the hallowed halls
the omnipresent Beauty
of the dawning Morning Star
and Mother of the World?

How would we be different
if we walked our ground,
collecting the gems of experience
to eagerly share with our Constant Companion
upon completion of mission
and return to home base,
filling the communal basket
with a life full-lived?


Every day I walk a dirt road, 

half of the walk is dark and steep
breathing in soil and moss that calms me to the core, 

and the other half is sandy and hot where houses line the shore

waves lean into the edges of the beach
as hands bridge the reach

fishermen casting lines
As I unravel mine; the writing of the morning untangles
with every step I take

Every day I walk


Unrefined human hearts
Bare witness
Scarred bark

Shaping lovers declaration
Like tears
Sap spills
Swelling curves carved

Lean into me
Your embrace is enough
Spare my life
Sheath the knife

Harvest fruit and flower



The Blossom unfolded is tended here
In fields whispering 
Bowing witnesses pray
Each petal cradling wind and sound

How learned am I, to call upon this hour
Such yearning to become
This ancient flower

How close could I 
Bare the needle of redemption

The practice of restraint

3/27/2020 SITTING OUTSIDE | McClain Jeff Moredock

sitting outside
            mid Lent
            mid pandemic
mind ping pongs
            what once was
            what will be

two mourning doves
            call and respond
keep their distance
but stay in touch

            on the limb
            of a live oak tree
a mockingbird
a medley

i am grateful
for the interruption


HIPPOALLERGENIC | McClain Jeff Moredock

if approached
                  @ 19 mph
        by a
                  2 ton

i would
            break into
                              a run
not a rash




[inspired by JC’s poem. ‘Munch’s Madonna’, and turning things on their head]

death’s radiant hand
gems collected mission complete
trek across time ends


That fresh pop of colour bursting onto the screen, 
That blaze of light which invites the eyes into its mystery,
That reframing of consciousness into greater awareness,
That joy of breathing fresh life into the air,
That sense of hope that there is more out there to explore that which is becoming.


[inspired by the art that inspired the other Voicing Art poets]

Woman, too calm, 
With a quadruple line aura wave.

The house is kept cool,
Like the wood covered in a freeze.

Both are lit,
Collecting stillness in the cold. 

SPONTANEOUS POEM | 9 YEARS | JC - The Poartry Project

[inspired by ‘Red House and Spruces’, 1927
by edvard munch as shared by Heather in her poem, ‘joy’]

I imagine 9 years on
from the prowling shadow that
had padded on silent paws
through the darks of your northern forest,
that that spot of red
striated with nocturnal cobalt
might have seemed like a single
drop of glimmering blood
broadcasting from the glaring white-blue
of snow.

I imagine just 9 years on
from the hot fire of burning lungs,
your soulful being sought solace
in the cooling reaches of a winter scene,
where perhaps the memories
were held at bay
by the safety of the icy containment.

I imagine 9 years on
from the loss of a certain innocence
through battery and chemistry,
that you sought refuge
in a childhood home
where the only thing
lurking in the inky corners
was a patient spider in a web
who simply sets about rebuilding
when its home is swept away

NARNIA WEST | Laine Driscoll

[inspired by The Poartry Project May Poetry of Nature Walk]

Our Debut Voicing Art Book

Voicing Art: Poetry of Space | Place | Time
is now available!

Poetry inspired by works of art, the art of nature and the exploration of beauty, perception and insight through the cartography of the unseen.


Subscribe to Our Newsletter

Keep up with all sorts of creative opportunities, events, prompts and news. We won’t share your data – ever.

Connect with Us