Shaman (renovation art 3)

shaman-3

shaman

Shape shifter,

Sometimes winged,

Sometimes four legged.

Woman, man, fish, amoeba,

Bone and card reader,

Weaver of dreams,

Midwife and mortician,

Magician and Fool.

 

Beyond right and wrong,

Always and forever

He is deeply here

At the pulsing center

Of my life,

And I dance his mystery

Into drumming kaleidoscopes

Of wonder.

 

Art and Poem by Clinock.

Sculpture: Shaman, by Clinock. H. 13″ x W. 5″ x D. 5″. Fired and stained clay.

fāz/Gypsy Priestess

Gypsy PriestessShe has been with me for a very long time, winged animal woman, keeper of the sacred heart, protector of the veil, moonlight jungle hunter, card reader and fire dancer

Her mystery lingers in the air…lilacs, burning leaves, holy copal, sun touched skin, ocean salt on the tongue

This image is a single breath in her eternity, caught and released. The next breath and the next she is not this at all, or this,

or this, or this

I can never know her, and yet, she is all my life.

 

Gypsy Priestess. 18×14. Acrylic on paper on panel. By clinock

Gypsy Priestess

 

Ghosts – Joan of Arc

joan of arc

Seeking sanctuary from the burn

I enter her cold and holy dance,

and am unmasked, and frozen

between unseen armor

and tundric nakedness

as she avalanches

to a purer love.

She moves in fires I cannot enter

and consumes my night in flames.

She pours herself through me,

a radiant and smoldering lava

scorching a charcoal path

on which I follow

her bright beauty.

There is mystery in her conflagration

binding me with smoky tongues

and releasing me in blinding light.

Her immaculate impossibility remains

and I am fused forever

to this sighing ghost

of ash and passion.

painting and poem by clinock

Ghosts – the flayed

FlayedAching to be clothed

in warm flesh again,

feeling it tight and smooth

against muscle and bone.

Hating this cold nakedness,

exposed to the core.

Waiting beyond time

for another skin to slide across

this osseous frame,

liquid, soft and trembling,

smelling of sun,

a fitting sensuality

once so tenderly touched

by a lover’s hands.

 

It is desires such as these

that binds a spirit

to this physical plane

of sweat and body,

this glistening intimacy.

 

Under the chill September sun

I deadhead the hydrangeas

and geraniums with shining

secateurs.

The withered blossoms fall

into my hand

and soon enough the foliage

will follow, dropping,

brown and wrinkled

onto the palm of earth,

and the garden will become

a murmuration of skeletons

waiting for new growth

to golden on their surfaces.

 

It is not so easy to face

this bone racked spirit in my night.

Its rattling visage is not pretty

and its pleading cries

come howling through my dreams.

 

I peer beneath desires

it breathes,

beneath its mask of dying,

into an endless nightmare

of longing,

reaching to be whole again,

refusing to accept

the flaying of time,

the peeling away

of the surfaces of care,

layer by layer

until there is nowhere else to go

except the beauty of the armature

flying free, released.

 

And you, my haunting,

whipping my heart

with cold filaments of silence.

It hurts, but you are freed now

and covered

by the bleeding veils of love.

 

mixed media painting and poem by clinock

Ghosts – the alone

ghost1Cracked and whispering,

smeared

across frayed and faded

veils of memory,

dissolving

fractured interstices

of stained days,

the one alone,

lost.

 

Loss and paradox

chime

dried bones in dank tunnels

beneath a burning bridge

where bright darkness

casts an eye,

staring down my soul,

stirring my cells

translucent.

 

Intimate spirit

trapped,

struggling for escape

but chained

to rusting remnants

and luminous ice,

a nameless shadow

craving release,

freedom

 

to be loved into

tree skin,

sleeping rocks and gulls,

wolf and worm,

petal and seed.

To enter floods and dust,

and the rising moon.

To let go.

Transcend.

 

Mixed media painting and poem by clinock.

Baptismos.

entering

Whispers answered

from behind the veil.

Invitations to dance

accepted.

Absorbed in blue

succulent wetness,

entering

deep rooms of warm release.

 

Dissolved in wonder,

confirmed by touch,

embraced with namelessness,

diving into light,

drowning

in the confluence,

moisture and flesh,

sliding into rebirth.

 

Painting and Poem by clinock.