October 2013 – Ghosts Pass By

ghosts_3

Ghosts pass by.

Abandoning armchairs,

stubbing out cigars,

quaffing the final drop

of vintage port

they float away,

down the back stairs,

checking their auras

in the cracked mirror

as they go.

 

Ghosts pass by.

Evicted from rooms

of haunted sleep,

they pass on, like wind,

like a Fellini parade,

a dust blown cavalcade

of ragged motley

seeking another home,

another creaking attic,

another empty shell.

 

Ghosts pass by.

Swathed in scars and chains,

autumn leaves and broken hearts

they pass the open window

of my glorious night.

Weeping phantoms,

restless souls and spirits,

their gaze is losing me

and I watch their sad ambling

with eyes of dawn.

 

Ghosts pass by

in feather boas, painted rags,

stained armor and cloaks of stars;

a susurration of shadows

shimmering with enchantment;

tears and whispers in the night.

Ghosts pass by, darkly inviting

but I turn and touch the sun,

and am exorcised again

in pulsing light.

~~~

 

Acrylic painting and poem by Clinock

Edited redux from October 2013

 

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Lilac Moon

dsc05560

Full moon tonight.

Her name is Lilac Moon,

Womb of Spring,

Hidden by Clouds.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The lilacs are out in Vancouver.

Spring always smells like you,

but it never lasts.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The magnolias bloomed

and were gone

in three days

this year.

~~~~~~~~~~

The flowers of May

come and go.

~~~~~~~~~

The lilacs may last

a little longer.

~~~~~~~~~

Because it brings me back you…

art and poem by clinock

Painting: 20″ x 16″ (50.8 x 40.64 cm). Acrylic on paper.

 

April Redux – 2013 – fragmented/enchanted

fragmented-enchanted

Even as the center holds,

various preconceptions

of mirrored identity,

(sensible face,

pedestrian limbs,

imagined organs),

fragment and

peel away,

shedding more than was known.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enchanted by fragmentation

I’m reluctant to leave

this sweet and bitter place

where honeyed magics

wing through space,

pollinating thought

and flesh, and dreams.

Waiting becomes me.

I paint the walls with lightning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fragmented by enchantment,

a cellular accommodation

reforms my reformation

in a dance of Buddha love,

an attitude of slow turning

across the wavering tiles,

where I shape and shape again

the slow dissolve

of the waiting room I was.

 

 

photo collage and poem by clinock

Winter Muse

winter-muse

It has been a long winter.

Renovations have not come easily

but they have come and I’m sure

will continue to come

until I am bones in the beaks of crows.

 

My muse rings the changes too.

It’s a game we play, it’s called hide and seek.

There are blindfolds on both sides

and the snow has been deep

and renovations have been difficult.

 

But don’t hear me wrong,

there is always laughter, wonder and light,

the sparkle of space and love

as I sweep the corners clean

and imagine everything new again.

 

Art and poem by clinock

Painting: Winter Muse. 20 x 16”. Acrylic on canvas.

Hello everyone. The changes are obvious I think. I hope you have no problems with navigation. I am working on a separate ‘portfolio / gallery’ site just for my art. I will post the link when complete.

Renovations, actual, virtual or metaphorical are ongoing.

Pool Party

pool-party-2

at the hot pools

intimate liquids of passion

overflow reality

and ten beings

of indeterminate gender

race or species

gather together this night

to celebrate

an anniversary of light

a forgetting of time.

 

in slippery skins

strawberry champagne

laughter and flowers

they lantern the dark

with blushing desires

and cascading hearts

dance the wet dance

under summer stars

serenading the lovers

and the naked moon.

 

painting and poem by clinock.

 Pool Party: acrylic and mixed media on canvas. 30″ x 20″ (76.2 cm x 50.8 cm).

Redux, 2013.

SPEN mited

not you, again

not you again

moving too close

performing the old sashay

against my thighs?

 

tut tut my dear,

the king is getting

what he always wanted

and will sleep soon

 

inevitable and always

I’m compared

to his lovers:

“which one is she?”

 

will you never understand?

you are of my world,

Priestess of my people

and my sanctuary

 

SPEN mited. 16 x 12″. Acrylic and mixed media on panel.

painting and poem by clinock.

Deja vu – haiku – Friday Dream

searching

searching by moonlight

stumbling through deep shadows

dreamers lose their way

 

haiku and photo by clinock

redux from 2014