Priestess

Priestess, (Entering the Stillness). 17×14 in. 43×46 cm. Acrylic on paper.

Painting and Haiku by Clinock

Xochi Quetzal Artist and Writer’s Residency. Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico.

October 2019.

Accept mysteries

Open the stillness inside

Be one with your dreams

Luna Ilena Sobre Chapala

 

Full Moon over Chapala

She is the dance of all the world’s oceans

She is the depth of mystery and the vibrating soul

She is the peeling back of all that is hidden

 

Full Moon Over Chapala

Luna Ilena Sobre Chapala by Clinock. 17×14 in. 43×46 cm. Acrylic on paper.

Xochi Quetzal Artist and Writer’s Residency.  Chapala, Jalisco, Mexico. October 2019.

 

 

Demented Confessions 6 – Owl Song

Owl Song

I fill the night with prophecies.

Do you hear her in my cry,

the oracle?

~~~

My nest is filled with tiny bones and skulls

and I will read your secret name in them

if you ask me for a song

~~~

and bring me sacrifice.

~~~

Art and Poem by Clinock.

Owl Song. 8″ x 8″ (20.32 x 20.32 cm). Mixed media relief in cradled panel.

Demented Confessions 4 – The White Stool

White Stool

Spirit bird child,

learning to fly,

will you dance a dance with me

across the sky?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The White Stool by Clinock. 8″ x 8″ (20.32 x 20.32 cm). Mixed media relief in cradled panel.

Demented Confessions 3 – The Red Stool

The Red Stool

Lonely child you were,

is it too late to be your friend?

Selfish child you were,

always wanting what you could not have,

red ball, red stool.

I give them to you today.

 

Pretty child you were,

transformed into an old man now.

Is it too late to fold you into me

and love you for who we are

and who we were

and who we will be?

 

I confess I abandoned you,

I was out of my mind and

you were lost in the mazes of my heart.

I confess I believed

I could walk the years

without you.

 

Art and poem by clinock.

The Red Stool. 10″ x 8″ (25.4 x 20.32 cm). Mixed media relief in cradled panel.

 

April Redux – 2013 – fragmented/enchanted

fragmented-enchanted

Even as the center holds,

various preconceptions

of mirrored identity,

(sensible face,

pedestrian limbs,

imagined organs),

fragment and

peel away,

shedding more than was known.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enchanted by fragmentation

I’m reluctant to leave

this sweet and bitter place

where honeyed magics

wing through space,

pollinating thought

and flesh, and dreams.

Waiting becomes me.

I paint the walls with lightning.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fragmented by enchantment,

a cellular accommodation

reforms my reformation

in a dance of Buddha love,

an attitude of slow turning

across the wavering tiles,

where I shape and shape again

the slow dissolve

of the waiting room I was.

 

 

photo collage and poem by clinock