Why are we not all born
with a jester attached?
With us until we die.
To keep us awake.
To remind us of the truth.
To fill mortality with laughter
and the jingle of bells?
If the jester
listens to her jester
as the brain listens to the heart
she may eventually find peace
among the flow and thrust
of our twisted ribbons.
Are we finally saved then,
can I relax now
or did i get it wrong again?
I’m certain I saw a family resemblance
and, it was only yesterday was it not
that the ferryman winked at me?
And although the days are losing definition
I’m certain it was the same day
you made a necklace out of acorns
and hung it around my neck, laughing.
The partnership is blessed
and sacrificed
at the same moment.
The breast to the memory stone.
Not a circle after all but an arc.
And all is suddenly Carnival,
bright and loud and gilded,
showing the folds and creases
of pockets and wallets and bags
as we leave them at the door.
Unburdened
we are
free to dance.
The Jester and her Jester. 18×14″. Acrylic on paper on panel.
Painting and poem by clinock.
Wonderful painting John. Great textures. It’s intriguing the way the blues both recede and come forward…like ocean waves. It’s a handsome skull and to my eyes it’s playing the pan pipes! Just the music for their dance. Love the whole poem but especially these lines…
“as the brain listens to the heart
she may eventually find peace
among the flow and thrust
of our twisted ribbons.
Are we finally saved then,
can I relax now
or did i get it wrong again?” …. a perennial question.
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Thank you Jana for your always perceptive and poetic words…it’s an endless fascination to me which parts of a painting and which lines of a poem people shine their spotlights on…i see the skull with new eyes now and am reading the lines you have isolated with a renewed consciousness of the whole.
when i go offer my liver to the laughing wino on the corner
and from my teeth create a set of panpipes that i will play
on the other corner, a dancing skeleton scaring innocent pedestrians
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Immersed in haunting beauty, your words and painting, draw me in…
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that is a haunting and very beautiful thing to say Marina, thank you my dear friend, thank you
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Oh, yes, we should all have that jester! “The days are losing definition…free to dance…” Excellent, John!
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perhaps we all do have a jester, but just call her by a different name…i know i do…always lovely to have you visit Jo Nell…
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So much to absorb on this painting and poem John. Removing the attractive border of the previous works allows us to focus more on the meaning of the image which is required when considering your poem. Both are a triumph and your words are still echoing in my mind. I love your final words “unburdened we are free to dance”……..and paint!!!!
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I wondered if anyone would notice that this faz was a moth in a kaleidoscope of butterflies…and of course you did Mr.Robert. It’s the only one in the whole series sans a decorated frame. I guess it actually doesn’t belong in faz but if i had left it out it might have ended up at the painting pound and so I gave it a home!
It means a lot to me, your kind words, thank you…
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The Jester and Her Jester is a very intriguing idea John. Like a shadow or echo. The ‘necklace out of acorns’ Just puts it in mythical territory for me. The Oak. Love that lower face with all the bright blue beneath the (ahem) ‘branch.’
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Steven, my apologies, never meant to ignore your comment…it just escaped me somehow. I enjoy and appreciate your observations, they always add depth to my work…
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Like the heavy application of paint for texture. I think this style makes a piece look like semi sculpture.
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You’re right Carl, in certain lights it does appear to be in high relief. Ideas arise here for making relief paintings for blind people…
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