 The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt (Austria) 1908 Editor's Note:
The Ekphrastic Review is always pleased to publish the ekphrastic work of creative writing students at Arrowhead Union High School, thanks to an ongoing partnership with teachers Liz Jorgensen & Terri Carnell. It is wonderful and exciting to see the amazing talent and work of students invited into ekphrasis. ** On The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt (Austria) 1908 In the shimmering embrace of gold, Two souls entwined in passion bold, Gustav Klimt’s masterpiece divine. Eternal beauty flows in each stroke, A lover’s kiss draped in sacred cloak. Faces adorned, patterns in tender union. Her form, a vision of ethereal grace Embraced by him in their intimate space. Golden strands weave their tale. An eternal love, beyond mortal frail. Their lips, a promise softly sealed, In Klimt’s art, their love is revealed. In hues of gold, forever bound. In “The Kiss” a timeless dance unfolds, A symphony of love, Klimt extols to the world. Evalisse Brimm ** A Drop of Golden Love A drop of golden love Starting from the sky Pouring down like heavy rain, drenching the couple They huddle close together, hands around one another The golden love surrounding them, like a blanket or a hug A drop of golden love Dripping down his face Yellow sunshine drips to hers, as his face gets closer Flowers beneath them bloom, as their love does as well A drop of golden love He leans in for the kiss His lips touch her cheek The sky is bright with golden sun rays A drop of golden love drips from her cheek A tear follows with it like dark storms on a cold night The golden love grows small, as she knew it was the last A drop of golden love, now puts him in her past Addie Williams ** The Last Embrace Interlocked by arms they stand, Together as one, hand to hand. A kiss that speaks of endless time, Their embrace, a love sublime. Wrapped in a blanket of gold, They feel the sun, a cloak of bold warmth. Her eyes remained closed in the bright delight, His gentle hold carries the softest light. Her dress, a field of vibrant flowers, His robe, a geometric confinement. Together they form a perfect whole, A union of body, heart, and soul. Their love a silent symphony, Captured in the hues of a brilliant epitome In this kiss, time stands still, A moment of pure, unyielding will. Katlyn Tarkowski ** Inspired by: The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt (Austria) 1908 Golden embrace in a world of light, Two lovers lost in each other’s sight. His hands hold her face, so tender and near In this moment, there’s nothing to fear. Her gown flows like a field of blooms, In a sparking world, away from gloom. Their love, a dance of warmth and grace, In the glow of Klimt’s golden space. Eyes closed, hearts beating as one. In this kiss, their world is spun. Wrapped in gold, pure and true, A timeless love in every hue. Lesson: Give sincerely, trust freely, believe genuinely, share openly, treasure hearts. Myla Unterweger ** Love or Hatred He plants a sweet kiss on my cheek. I fall before him, melting into his arms. All I feel is love, but I wonder if it's temporary. I settle myself into the pastel flowers beneath me. I stare into his eyes, my prince charming. I embrace his hug and graze his hand with mine. He grabs my arms and embraces me with nothing but love. He is my lover. He plants a bitter kiss on my cheek. Im forced to kneel as I fill with agony. All I feel is hatred, but I wonder if it's temporary. I rest down to be poked by thorny roses under me. I try to act normal as he forces a kiss on my face. I feel tense and try not to move in fear of him. He grabs my arms and I don't feel the love anymore. He is not my lover. Abigail Pederson ** After The Kiss I sit at the edge of the world, nothing as far as I can see. My feet trace circles in the plush green grass and eyes wander past. I wait for my love, for only he can save me. As the days pass, my heart grows heavier wondering when he will arrive. The grass now turning into hay, leaves begin to stray. I wait for my love, surely he will save me. My heart has grown cold, icicles have stabbed any remaining hope. The grass is covered in frost, the trees are shivering and bare. I wait for my love even if he is not coming to save me. Seasons have passed, the birds are chirping again. Off in the distance I see a man, my heart begins to pound. Has my love finally come to save me? Here he is, only inches away, he swoops me up and kisses me. Gold begins to pour from the sky, flowers in every colour begin to bloom all around. My heart feels full, and the world is complete. I waited for my love, and here he is to save me. Catarina Romagna ** Burning Love As I draw a final breath, He holds my still figure. Our yellow bodies are drawn tight. The night sky is still, Only the stars glowing in the sky. The moon radiates light onto our pale skin. The bright flowers below bring me joy amidst the silence. The vines grab my ankles ready to take me home. With one last kiss I am ready to go, For I know our love will burn forever. Brooke Sexton ** Man Gone, Running Gold and Silver, as one. Rounded and pointed, in the sun. On the edge, in golden fun. After the kiss, the man began to run. Not knowing the painting had to be redone. Diamonds and Silver there was a ton. To match the gold painting that had begun. Ran a marathon and he won. An important gift to someone. The red-haired girl was dumb stun. A ring that outshone. Kristianne Dempsey ** Echoes of Gold: a Love Painted in Passion In the heart of Vienna, where the city's spirit thrived amid its gilded palaces and lively cafes, there lived a young artist named Eva. She spent her days captivated by the beauty of the Secessionist movement, often wandering through exhibitions at the Belvedere, studying the works of Klimt. Eva was drawn to Klimt's The Kiss like a moth to a flame. Its shimmering gold leaf and intricate patterns spoke to her soul, reminding her of love in its purest form—an intimacy transcending time and space. Each visit to the museum felt like a pilgrimage, where she could lose herself in the art and dream of capturing such passion on her own canvas. One crisp autumn afternoon, as golden leaves fluttered down from the trees lining the Ringstrasse, Eva found herself once again standing before The Kiss. Its presence filled the room with a quiet intensity as if the lovers depicted were frozen in a moment of eternal embrace. Lost in contemplation, Eva barely noticed the approach of footsteps beside her. A soft voice broke through her reverie, drawing her attention to a fellow artist standing beside her—a tall, slender man named Anton. His eyes, deep and thoughtful, mirrored her own fascination with Klimt's masterpiece. They exchanged pleasantries, their conversation effortlessly weaving between art and life. Anton spoke passionately of his latest mural commission for a grand ballroom, while Eva shared her dreams of one day capturing the essence of love in her own work. Days turned into weeks, and their chance encounter at the museum blossomed into a friendship fueled by mutual admiration and shared artistic pursuits. They spent hours together, exploring Vienna's hidden corners and sketching scenes along the Danube. Anton's bold strokes and reverence for the human form inspired Eva to paint with newfound fervour, each brushstroke a testament to their growing connection. One chilly November evening, under a canopy of stars that shimmered like Klimt's gold leaf, Anton invited Eva to his studio. There, amidst scattered canvases and the lingering scent of turpentine, he unveiled his latest creation—a portrait of Eva herself, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight, her eyes reflecting the radiance of The Kiss. Overwhelmed by the beauty of his gesture, Eva stood speechless. Anton stepped closer, his touch gentle as he traced the curve of her cheek. In that tender moment, surrounded by art that mirrored their love, they shared a kiss—a promise of devotion that transcended the confines of their world. As winter settled over Vienna, Eva and Anton continued to create, their days filled with shared sketches and late-night discussions on art and philosophy. Their love, like Klimt's masterpiece, flourished in shades of gold and silver, capturing the fleeting magic of their time together. Months turned into years, and Eva's studio became a sanctuary of creativity and love. Her paintings adorned galleries across Europe, each one a testament to the enduring power of passion and artistry. Among them, her rendition of The Kiss stood out—a tribute to Klimt's legacy and a reflection of her own journey toward finding love in a world illuminated by the golden light of creativity. In the quiet corners of Vienna, where history and art intertwined, Eva and Anton's story became a whispered legend—a tale of two souls who found solace and inspiration in each other's embrace, forever captured in the timeless strokes of their shared masterpiece. Years passed, and Eva's fame as an artist grew. Her paintings continued to evoke the same sense of awe and wonder that Klimt's work had stirred in her own heart. Yet amidst the accolades and exhibitions, it was the memory of Anton's gentle touch and the quiet moments spent sketching by the Danube that remained etched in her soul. One spring morning, as Vienna bloomed with the promise of new beginnings, Eva received an unexpected letter. It was an invitation to exhibit her latest collection at the Belvedere—the very place where her journey had begun, beneath the watchful gaze of Klimt's The Kiss. With a heart full of memories and gratitude, Eva accepted the invitation. As she stood before her paintings, surrounded by the whispers of admirers and the soft glow of gallery lights, she felt Anton's presence beside her, his spirit woven into every brushstroke. And in that moment, as she gazed upon her own masterpiece—a portrait of love and creativity intertwined—Eva knew that their story, like Klimt's timeless art, would endure beyond the confines of mortal life, a testament to the enduring power of love and the transformative magic of art. Sophia Dufek ** One Last Kiss Author's note: I am writing about the final moment between the two in the painting, The Kiss, by Gustav Klimt. I looked out the window. Clouds were rolling in and the wind was picking up. I had hoped that I could wait one more day to take her to the cliffside one last time, but time was running out. If I were to do this, I would have to do it now despite the weather. I gathered a blanket from the couch and quickly approached her room. She was sleeping. I gently tap her shoulder a couple of times to wake her. Her eyes slowly opened and she stared with confusion. Happy to see me, but confused by the sudden awakening. I stand near the end of the bed and point outside the window. Outside was a forest with a tiny gravel path. Her face lit up at the gesture as she seemed to get the idea. I was the first to leave the house. The cold breeze from the storm blew through the few layers of clothing and forced me into a shiver. I stood there shaking for a little while I waited for her to step outside. She moved slowly through the doorway. Wearing the yellow blanket from earlier, and her weak legs to guide her. The start of the path was mostly gravel with a nice wooden railing to help those who needed it. The trees swaying in the wind created a noisy background of rustling leaves as we made our way to the cliffside. The rain began to fall. Gently at first but soon picked up speed. I look back at her. The wooden railing had ended which slowed her pace, but she was determined to keep walking. The path had ended, but the cliff was still far away. Her legs were already giving in from her condition and the walking was not helping. I hurried back to her side and wrapped my arms around her to aid. Slowly, the two of us made our way to the end of the gravel path. What lay in front of us was a small opening in the dense population of trees. A long and narrow path to the cliffside. I looked at the rocky and muddy mess in front and with her in my arms, we continued onwards. Our feet touch the muddy ground with every step. My thin jacket blew in the cold breeze as we tumbled along the steep path. The cliffside was getting closer. My wife, carried by my arms, was falling more limp with every passing moment. So close, yet so far. I kept thinking. Her body grew heavier and it was getting harder to walk. Her yellow blanket was drenched but was still shining. I could tell that she was starting to fade. Lighting roars in the sky. Our pace slowed as the path winds through the rough terrain. I look down at her. Her eyes are closed but she smiles to reassure me that she is still there. I lift her once more and continue. With small, staggered steps, I gently set her down. We could finally relax a little. I took a moment to catch my breath and looked around. The trees and small grass patch where we sat were covered in bright colors. It was refreshing to be walking on such soft flowers compared to the muddy path. It felt as if we were walking on a cloud, much like the ones in the sky. I gently set her down. Her gentle hands move to adjust the gesture. Brushing against the flowers, she smiles. I place my arm around her to prop her up. She opens her weary eyes and speaks with a faint and soft voice. “What a view.” Her smile grows as she looks out towards the horizon. The rain quiets down as the clouds begin to drift apart. The sun peaks out a little on the horizon. A warm, yellow glow fills the sky and the surrounding scenery. I stare out at the fields with her. The many mountain ranges that fill the distance. For many years, she had always dreamed of being here. Laying in the flowers and looking out at the sun as it sets. At last, her dream was coming true. She turns to me and tries to get up but slumps back down. I wrap my arms around her to keep her from falling. We gaze into each other’s eyes. Though she is fading, her eyes are bright. Filled with youth and loving compassion I had fallen in love with so many years ago. The wind blows a gentle breeze and the yellow blanket covers us both. Shielding us from the rain. I lean down at the ground, pick a couple of flowers, and gently place them in her soft hair. The sky darkened as the clouds stacked on top of one another. Slowly, I lean in towards her. Her eyes close as she tries to wrap herself around me one last time. Her arms give out and crumble in between us. We stay there. Holding each other for her final few seconds. The blanket’s colour reflects in the rain. The warm, golden light surrounds us as we embrace one last time. One final moment together. One last kiss. Cameron Grob ** The Kiss of Death The bright colours I once saw slowly faded through my time with you. The hues of blue I saw in your eyes turned to memories of black and white, replaying in my mind like an old movie film. The rumours made it clear you weren’t good for me, but I held out hope for you, for us. I was holding on to all the nice things you said to me, lying to myself that we could work. You said my eyes reminded you of long walks on the beach, that my hair was as beautiful as aged mahogany. I lost pieces of who I was in the short time we were “together”. I tried looking in the mirror, but the reflection wasn’t mine. It was the shell of a girl who wanted something she would never have. She stared back at me with her melancholy eyes and tears rolling down her cheeks. Her face was puffy and she looked like she hadn’t slept in days. I wanted to help her, but I didn’t know how. The more I lost myself the more I deluded my thoughts with you. I had convinced myself that your one letter texts meant more than a thousand words. I managed to make the letter k sound as beautiful as a sunset. One day, you decided I wasn’t what you wanted and got rid of me. No texts, calls, nothing. I saw you a few days later when I was out with my friends, you had someone else. I stood in front of you not knowing who I was, and you were with her. My throat started to close and my eyes began to water, leaving me defenseless. In that moment, I knew I lost you. I saw you start to walk over and I shut down. I looked at my shoes on the black pavement, and I walked back to my driver side door. As soon as I got in, I looked in the rearview mirror, to see the same girl I saw in my bedroom. She was lost, angry, confused. I put the car into reverse to back out, then shifted into drive and pushed 10 mph out of the parking lot. I walked in my house, right up the stairs and fell onto my bed. I buried my face into my pillow and screamed as loud as I could. I felt the hot tears running down my face as I thought about the time we met. I had driven my friend out to see you and we sat on the playground talking. As I looked around, I noticed the flowers in bloom on the grass nearby. You must have seen them too, because a minute later you got up and came back with an orchid. I told you orchid’s were my favourite, and you said it was a lucky guess. That was the first time I felt comfortable around you. Now, laying on my bed, I feel as though my arms and legs are bound by the memory of the orchid you gave me. The blanket of safety and comfort you once laid over me has been ripped off, and replaced with the sorrow and anger you caused. Meeting you was a kiss of death. The death of who I was, being replaced by the girl in the mirror. The girl who fell to her feet looking back on the memories of us. The girl whose eyes were puffy and red. The girl who appeared tired and restless, who lost her sense of direction. I lay on my bed with closed eyes and shallow breaths as I let reality catch up to me. The silence is my refuge. The quiet allows me to think, to suppress my feelings and distract myself from you. I let the thought of you affect me for the last time, I am in control now. Paige Lind ** Eternal Embrace in Gold In the golden glow, entwined they stand, A moment, captured, hand in hand, Robes of patterns, rich and grand, Upon a field of flowers. A crown of vines on him adorned, Her head of flowers, beauty born, In a silent whisper, hearts are sworn, Within love’s golden towers. Eyes closed, she feels the tender kiss, The world around them is lost in bliss, A moment pure, they won’t dismiss, Their souls are forever bound. In Klimt’s embrace, the lovers gleam, A timeless, golden, endless dream, Where love and art together seam, In silence so profound. The past and present, meld as one, In the gilded glow of the setting sun, A masterpiece of love began, Eternal in its grace. Inspired by his travels, vision bright, Klimt paints with love, with pure delight, Their love, their kiss, a guiding light, In gold-leafed, sacred space. Sophia Dufek ** The Golden Kiss In golden hues of love's embrace, Two souls laced in a caring grace. Her eyes closed, his kiss, a trace Of their passion's warmth, a blessed space. Shimmering gold in a sparkling bloom, They share their love in a room, Her dress of flowers, colorful and fair, His cloak of patterns, bold and rare. A world of differences, as they fall deep, Where silent promises they seek to keep. In each embrace, time seems to freeze, A moment captured, love is ease. The canvas sings of love's sweet bliss, Eternal beauty in a single kiss. Paige Kohlman
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September 2024
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