These were the cards I dealt
the night I fell again
into that Bardolic hole of wonders.
The third was the nightmare 9 of Swords,
The 9 of Skulls as I interpret here.
Like dead leaves chained
this angst was too absurdly histrionic;
The Hanged Man, a rush of blood to the head,
The Priestess awaits confession at the holy web
and the sleepless guilt of The 9 eats our dreams.
I am no stranger to these journeys.
The Bardo is not only for the dead
as Life is not only for the living.
More often now I seem to walk through mirrors
with one foot here and one foot there.
~~~~~~
Art and Poem by clinock
Art: 8″ x 17″ (20 x 43 cm). Mixed media relief in cradled panel.
Superb! Love these curios!
Thanks Ogden 🙂
“Dead leaves chained” – very unexpected!
I love surprises
the mysterious box as large as a mountain
all wrapping paper
“I am no stranger to these journeys…” I hope you can sleep at night! *shivers*
The Tarot has shown me that every problem comes bearing gifts, The Bardo, that we are just dust in the wind, and Mexico, that skeletons dance inside us all. These journeys are my art and I sleep like a baby when I come home.
Thanks Debra
These artworks of you are so special and they say Mexico. The whole atmosphere is mysterious and also scary. I love the last lines of the poem the most as the image is very strong:
“More often now I seem to walk through mirrors
with one foot here and one foot there.”
xxx
“Making art isn’t an aesthetic operation; it’s a form of magic designed as a mediator between this strange, hostile world and us, a way of seizing the power by giving form to our terrors as well as our desires”. (Pablo Picasso).
thank you Ina, it means a lot ❤
Great art & great poem. 👍
you’re very kind to say so, thank you
Intense with a spark of intriguing darkness.
very nicely put Deb, thank you very much…
Brilliantly done
I appreciate that very much…