Zdzislaw Beksinski, TN, 1985, oil on hard board, 98.5 cm x 132 cm,Dmochowski Gallery

This painting, “TN,” by Zdzislaw Beksinski has always fascinated me, as does most of his work. I’ve found that writing about something I feel is beautiful or fascinating is a good way to start actively creating, since the foundation is already set..

Below is an example — a poem attributed to this piece by Beksinski.

In My Arms

When I cradled him

His bones

Clicked

Chimes of

Clinking skeleton

And clacking feet

Knocking gently with

The rhythm of my stride

He moved his forgotten hand

to cover his naked head and

Let the other fall in defeat

Across this staff of contradiction

Barring him from leaving

The security of my arms

And if his eyes were still connected

Still hidden in the sockets

I do not believe

He would cry

Even through his spirit lingers behind

Crawling

Paralyzed and pathetic at my heels

A long bearded heap

Of wrinkled skin

And sallow thoughts

Begging for my mercy

But

Mercy will not be mine to give

The wolf follows

Gleaming teeth in warning

Guarding my prey against

Life

And I hide my face in

The shadow of this body

My head shrouded in ebony

Veiling what you are too afraid to see

As the ghost moon sets in

I walk forward towards the judgment

Arms full of loose bones

Connected only by memories of

Sinews

I will not let life have you

You can only be mine.

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See more of my work at www.marisamorby.com

See more of my work at www.marisamorby.com