‘The 100’ # 97 – Dove

…” the wars they will
be fought again
The holy dove
She will be caught again
bought and sold
and bought again
the dove is never free.”

Leonard Cohen. Anthem

 That which once was clearly read

now manifests in ciphers,

silent, broken and disintegrating.

Whatever the answer was,

in this parchment of peace,

it is gone now, forgotten,

fragmented and lost.

Words and songs are smudged,

dark wings tear the light,

chaos reigns beneath the ordered surface

and the zero and the I,

tattooed in bar codes

indelibly across our eyes

binds us and blinds us.

And our blindness multiplies

with the hate and lies,

the killing, the hurting, the violence

wasting our hearts

to ashes, charcoal, stone,

and all we might become

is lacerated by darkness.

 

 But still we inhabit our dream

 as if the unbearable pain

was part of a stranger’s nightmare,

otherwise, we ask

how could we breath?

how could we sleep?

how could we believe in love?

So we claim neutrality,

pretend we do not see

the millions of bodies of falling doves

filling the sky like tears,

blood on white feathers

heaping around our feet

freezing us numb in holy snow.

 

 

Mixed media collage and poem by clinock.

Thank you Steven @  http://poemimage.wordpress.com for design inspiration.

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Dual

It’s a fast and frantic dance

around the corpus collosum

these days –

a crowded floor,

confused music,

stumbling movement,

crushed toes and egos.

Always has been this way

I guess and

always will?

Spinning yins and

gesticulating yangs

yelling and threatening.

Black versus white.

Frolic becomes fight,

man and woman,

ideologies,

church and state,

hate,

woman and woman,

man and man,

the loss of love,

war.

What if the gods lay down

and slept it off?

What if the waltz

was more fascinating

than the weapon?

What if a vast silence

descended

and everyone

took the day off

and listened

in quietude

to what one other person

wished to say?

The world continues

to turn gracefully.

It is only the animal

who-man who

is too clumsy

and deaf with self

to follow the music

of the spheres.

Get down

and boogie

the night

away –

it takes two

to –

and more.

And many more

equals

peace.

Poem and Acrylic painting on canvas. 20″ x 30″ by clinock.