Mexico – Cinco de Mayo

dance of life 1

 

dance of life 6

 

 

dance of life 4

 

dance of life 2

 

dance of life 7

 

So many souls sacrificed for Mexico,

in Mexico,

May 5th. 1862,

Cinco de Mayo.

So many souls sacrificed

every minute, every day, every year,

in every nation,

at every beat of the drum,

at every beat of the heart

so many souls.

 

photographs and poem by Clinock

Demented Confessions 19 – Touch

Touch

don’t touch

touch

transcendent / tantalizing

fingertips evoke

The Electricity / The Ecstasy

of skin

unfurling

a million cocoons

releasing

butterfly kisses

Yet To Be Confessed

~~~~~~~~~~

Art and poem by Clinock.

Touch, 8 x 8″ (20 x 20 cm), mixed media relief in cradled panel.

http://www.johnclinockart.com

 

 

 

Spring – Resistance is Futile!

 

 

Version 2

Version 2

magnolia

“Dorothy was at the sideboard, breaking eggs and spilling them into a bowl. Just watching the oval things crack in her white fingers and spill forth with a golden plop created a series of small explosions inside me. My calves shuddered as she scrambled them with a fork and they turned yellow like her hair. She poured a bit of cream into the mixture and the silken smoothness of the descending cream had me reeling. I wanted to say, ‘Dorothy Parrish, I love you’, to take her in my arms, to lift the bowl of scrambled eggs above our heads and pour it over our bodies, to roll on the red tiles with her, smeared with the conquest of eggs, squirming and slithering in the yellow of love”.

from 1933 Was A Bad Year by John Fante

monday-haiku

crocus

mandala drawing and photography by clinock

 

April Fools, Blue Moon, Easter Sunday, Oh My!

waitingroom4

two foolish ones

attempt

a meaningful conversation in the night

on the doorstep of spring

their words

slow syllables, emerging, fragmenting, dissolving

their words

dance dark and dizzying waltzes

stumbling

falling under starless skies

they cannot agree who has the key to the door

forgetting

it was never locked

two foolish ones in the dark

struggling to speak

while beyond the door

quiet brightness waits

bigstock-tragic-night-sky-with-a-full-m-45382897

and then there’s Hollywood

 

 

poem and art by clinock. acrylic and mixed media on paper. 12″ x 10″.

WEAR YOUR BONNET WITH PRIDE — HAPPY MASH-UP EASTER!!!

Solstice Dance

Scan copy 2

 

“May the long time sun shine upon you,

All love surround you,

And the pure light within you

Guide your way on…”

 

 

However you celebrate this time of year I wish you love and peace.

The circle turns and the light is reborn,

how wonderful is that…

 

See you all next year.

 

Solstice Dance. mixed media by Clinock.

super moon mellow angst blues

Version 2

four in the morning

there’s clouds but I can feel her

pulling at my heart

 

Haiku, pastel and conte Drawing Full Moon by Clinock

We Rise

Dove

There are periods of moments

strung together like seagulls

along the white wake of time

that seem to glow with more light,

more intense shadows sliding,

more music in their foam.

 

There have been days like this

leading to the now of writing

on this poignant day of remembrance:

I shivered, sweating and sleepless

through nights of fevered demons

the medicines invoked in the blood.

 

And at the same time needing

to solve incomprehensible clues

leading to solutions of puzzles

I didn’t ask for or want.

And always the rumors of war

we didn’t ask for or want.

 

There were the anniversary rituals too.

One year after the crowning of the mad king,

and the previous day, because he knew to leave

before the Ace of Spades became the trump,

Mister Cohen waved farewell.

I bled tears that day for a man I loved.

 

And today, the eleventh day of the eleventh month,

we enact our agreed rituals of mourning:

Silence, remembering, honouring the dead

of the wars that never end.

People, we can do better than this,

isn’t it time we gave all our children  peace?

 

“From bitter searching of the heart,

we rise to play a greater part.”

 

 

broken-blue-window1

 

 

Mixed media art, photo and poem by Clinock