torn skies rip pathways into fire,
curves are acknowledged and abandoned,
edges are released from symmetry,
passages of burning hunger
hover in anticipation,
mystery is penetrated.
dropping, I unfold in fragments,
incinerated shapes of melted wings
ignite the cold airs of descent
and darken the beckoning landscape
with gestures of ash and flame,
as my shadow grows.
intimate luminosity is lost
consumed by the scorching of the fall.
this is the cruelest language of the sun
this blue impenetrable codex,
this stained banner of belief
flying a farewell.
Torn and reassembled acrylic painting and poem by clinock
Deeply moving, John. Some scars are worn like wings…renascent tattoos of descent in the shape of great birds…their flight…patterns of complexity in freefall. The re-painting is extraordinary…I am especially drawn to the edges and zig-zag of blue lines.
Jana…Thank you for hearing and seeing, and for your beautiful words…
“torn skies rip pathways into fire” – although I hate doing that [quoting], this is exactly what I saw before even reading your poem. I can’t get enough of looking at this and reading your poem. All fragments of a beautiful fall. Thank you and Happy July, my friend. 🙂
I suppose there is a tentative beauty in every fall..you see it and you are always my touchstone of positivity….thank you dear Marina for always being there, a ray of sunlight in my night…
Another excellent marriage of paint and words John. As Marina says the painting touches you immediately but the words further describe an intuitive knowing…….for a deeper experience. Magic!
Thanks Robert, really. You know I realized tonight how we bloggers can get into a trance-like habit of commenting and answering comments. We communicate with people we have never met and in a few words attempt to speak our feelings and our truth. This is the nature of 21st century on-line interaction. It can never be more than this because of distance but I do find myself wishing that I could share a few brews with you at the local pub and really meet you and get to know you. Being old school I will never really be able to accept this form of friendship without wishing for more. But that’s how it is and I value it none-the -less…
So true John. Maybe like penfriends of the past. However the world is a much smaller place these days and who knows when we might be able to share a few brews in the future. As you say the world is full of magic and anything is possible!
Hi John, I must have missed this one, glad I found it now! The sky may be on fire, the fall hard, but still we should always aim to go there. x
What goes up must come down but you are so very right Ina, we can only keep on going up, trying to fly, to touch the sun xox
love this line –> “this stained banner of belief”. true story of my heart
I hear you Stacy and from your posted writings understand…
Oh, gorgeous. I really love that painting.
Thank you…