Taste redness, smell lulling white winds, look at it in the universe: sun. Gaze at stars yellow and glittering till you feel good and have to shut out the blinking. Brainworlds sparkle in your caves.
Egon Schiele was a poet… Schiele wrote a number
of poems in his short lifetime, which, while not of quite the same
calibre as those of other renowned Expressionist poets of the time –
Georg Heym, Gottfried Benn et al – are still a vivid supplement to
Schiele’s painterly vision. Many of the titles denote an artist’s
approach, such as ‘sketch for a self portrait’ or 'self portrait’, as do
the frequent references to colour. Indeed in one poem, titled Visions,
the line, ‘The white pallid girls showed me their black legs and red
garters and spoke with black fingers …’ immediately conjures up a
Schiele painting as if one were describing it.