El Dia de los Muertos

425440-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
night.

425430-dia-de-los-muertos

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.

 

Advertisements

Death in Florence

death in venice

 

Bones in the flowers.

Halloween in Firenze.

Juxtaposition

 

Photo and haiku by Clinock

Beauty’s Ghost

just-a-glimpse

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

autumnblues12

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)