El Dia de los Muertos


What is death? It is the glass of life broken into a
thousand pieces, where the soul disperses like
perfume from a flask, into the silence of the eternal


When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero going home. / Tecumseh


family shrine

And this for you, my dear, dead family.

Sweet and bitter memories of you

in a shoe box. Rough art, but true,

with love and honour in my heart.



Death in Florence

death in venice


Bones in the flowers.

Halloween in Firenze.



Photo and haiku by Clinock

Beauty’s Ghost


Beauty whispers through

forests of icy moonlight

haunting memories



found photo collage / haiku by Clinock

Siena Ghost

siena ghost


Inquisitive ghost

haunting bright Siena day

with curtained glances


Photo and haiku by Clinock

October’s Ghost

Version 2


painted in dead leaves

October’s ghost is a face

dreaming of sunflowers


Art and haiku by Clinock



just because…

italian manikins



Photo by Clinock

Autumn Blues


My blood thinned by foghorns.

Chilled rain instead of cold beer

on the puddled patio.

Night reflections shimmering

on downtown streets

enter me with a shivering,

stuttering neon.


My skin, stretched by winds of change,

tightens into geometries

of angled cold and weak light.

My eyes struggle against sleep.

The season moves

with the languorous throb and angst

of autumn blues.


Are these the fallen glories

of the winded wings of trees?

or the ragged motley

of a jester at a wake?

I jump in leaves

and bury myself in their smell

as we enter dark.



painting and poem by Clinock (edited redux – 2014)