One Time

one time 2

 

it was just one time

running from was running to

and the whole world changed

 

it was only once

twilight of an isolated

and then it was night

 

it was just one time

two beaten souls smudged by love

and separation

 

it was only once

but that’s all it took to fly

and the whole world changed

~~~~~~

 

art and haiku by Clinock.

art: mixed media on panel. 10 x 8 inch. 25 x 20 cm.

 

Mexico – Adios por ahora

Version 2

 

 

 

 

 

photo by Clinock

Mexico – campanas y nubes

sma domes and sunset

it has never failed

and it was planned to be so

by the white fathers

sma campinale

I speak of the bells

that oscillate in the heart

and call us call us

call us

3 bells

the cloud / sky romance

magicked us eons before

and we reach out still

 

into the beautiful blue loneliness of space

~~~~~~

 

poem and photographs by Clinock

Mexico – lo viejo y lo nuevo

Mexico – the old and the new

Mexico the new and the old

 

Mexico Old Woman

 

Mexico the old and the new 2

 

“What if the heart does not pale as the body wanes,

but is like the sun that blazes hotter each day

on these immense, perishing fields? What then?”

Poem by Jack Gilbert

Photographs by Clinock

Mexico – protegar esta casa

carved Mex face

 

20120312-201150.jpg

 

face Italy 4

 

face knocker

protect this house

and all who live

behind this door

from

the darkness of ignorance

from

 unkind words and thoughts and acts

from

complacency of mind and spirit

from

sad and vengeful ghosts

from

forgetting

love

 

photo and poem by clinock

 

Mexico – 35

20120306-223448

 

treinta y cinco,

the Eight of Wands, swift shadows

in the dancing light.

 

haiku and photo by clinock

Demented Confessions 20 – The Hanged Man and The High Priestess in The Bardo

The Hanged Man and

 

Version 2

Version 3

Version 4

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.

http://www.johnclinockart.com