Veiled whispers are reversed.
Putti are lobotomized.
The Tree of Life dries and withers.
Language crumbles
and
disintegrates.
Beware of straight black lines she says
and
listen carefully
to the poetry
of clouds.
The sky is smudged charcoal.
Birds fly upside down through falling ash.
Time cracks open
torturing music,
fragmenting silence.
A mad man wears The Crown.
Oh don’t you hear
the old gods
laughing?
Poem and art by clinock.
Enigma. 8″ x 8″ (20 x 20 cm). Mixed media relief in cradled panel.
she knew immediately
the symbolism, the references,
the memory, the confession.
there are people in my life
who know more about me than I do.
I make my confession to them.
Art and Poem by Clinock.
’43’. 6″ x 6″ (15.24 x 15.24 cm). Mixed media relief sculpture in cradled panel.
…” 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.
art rat cafe 