Please You

Please You_2

Please you.

Please me.

 

Emerging

from the chess game

with Time,

the fall of the cards

and the testosterone

of the mother board

the grim eye never blinks

and never pleases;

the stripped man runs,

but never arrives,

pleasing his desire,

but getting nowhere fast,

and the banner’s warning light

pleases only

low flying dreams.

 

Please me.

Please you.

 

Through the beautiful mess

of smouldering

and suspended animation

the totem bird topples

but cannot fly

to anyone

and everything hangs

on the edge of motion,

drawn by nature’s laws

to please you,

to please me

but frozen in eternal stasis;

a clock without hands,

a river of ice

and the solitude

of endless space

beyond the stars.

 

mixed media painting and poem by clinock.

The Waiting Room Drawings.6. Urban Heat

Waiting Room Drwg

she comes and goes

in this room

lacerating space with light,

tears and laughter,

while I stand

in urban heat

between faces and windows

lost in the solitude of speed.

she comes and goes

through the waiting,

promising nothing

yet open to all,

while I stand

arms akimbo

within traffic jams

that do not speak to me.

she comes and goes

across my gaze

and vanishes in night,

engaged elsewhere

while I stand

with clown nose

hawking post cards

of women I have known.

she comes and goes

through this solitude

on undeviating wings.

“Follow me” she says

then disappears

into the room beyond

the waiting room

where I cannot follow.

 

Poem and artwork by clinock. 

Urban Heat – solvent rubbing.   June 04. 2013.

‘The 100’ #76 – The Waiting Room Drawings.5. Tour Group

Waiting Room 5

Days and nights are not completely solitary, here in the Waiting Room. We receive random visits from lost wanderers, stray cats, poets seeking their muse, painters who entered their paintings too deeply and now can’t find their way out, and once Jean-Paul Sartre appeared at the door saying he was suffering from Nausea and could he please have a cup of tea. We thought it might be timely to ask him for his thoughts on the Waiting Room. Jean-Paul finished his tea in silence and then stared intently at the tea leaves in his cup. Peeking over his glasses he muttered, “Being is. Being is in-itself. Being is what it is,” and then he vanished, POOF, in a cloud of smoke that smelled like Gitane cigarettes.

But it’s the Tour Groups who are the most unpredictable and entertaining. They have a schedule but never keep it. They might appear at any hour of night or day in their painted and battered buses. The tourists are mostly a jolly and innocuous lot, always joking, laughing and nudging and always hungry and insatiably thirsty. We feed them, slake their thirst and join in their singing and good-natured banter. However, there are always those who abuse hospitality and pollute the friendly air with snide remarks. Their devious and underhanded presence oozes through the room like a plague ship. We make the sign against the evil eye and walk on.

The Tour Groups enjoy souvenirs and we distribute postcards of the Waiting Room to all. They write on the cards and leave them for us to mail. Communications from here are guaranteed, door to door, always.

Writing and mixed media collage postcard by clinock.

‘The 100′ series was initiated by my 100th Post in April 2012. As text and images are the essence of my blog I will post 100 pieces of textual art from historical and contemporary artists and from my own hand. To view the series to date click on ‘The 100’ in my Category Menu.

‘The 100’ #74 – The Waiting Room Drawings.4.

Waiting Room 4. 12" x 10". Mixed Media. (Mix Med #28).

 

in the waiting room

you might observe

that we lack what might be termed

Modern Conveniences

our dimension is

carved from space and decorated with

intimate meanderings

of images and breath

this is enough to satisfy our present needs

and as we wait

we pass the time

by thinking, imagining, postulating,

slowly opening

each and every door

to each and every possibility of thought

but only time

will tell

“Given the existence as uttered forth in the public works of Puncher and Wattmann of a personal God quaquaquaqua with white beard quaquaquaqua outside time without extension who from the heights of divine apathia divine athambia divine aphasia loves us dearly with some exceptions for reasons unknown but time will tell……………………………”

‘The 100′ series was initiated by my 100th Post in April 2012. As text and images are the essence of my blog I will post 100 pieces of textual art from historical and contemporary artists and from my own hand. To view the series to date click on ‘The 100’ in my Category Menu.

‘The 100’ #73 – The Waiting Room Drawings.3.

Fragmented / Enchanted

The Waiting Room Drawings #3 – mixed media – by clinock.   April 17. 2013.

Fragmented / Enchanted by clinock.

Even as the center holds

(built by loving hands,

it’s architecture strong)

Various preconceptions

of mirrored identity –

(Sensible face,

Pedestrian limbs,

Imagined organs),

fragment and

peel away

shedding more than was known.

 

Enchanted by this fragmentation

waiting becomes me.

The door is open

yet I choose to linger

in this sweet and bitter place

where honeyed magics

pass through air,

pollinating thought

and flesh

and dreams

fragmenting towers with lightning.

 

There is no pain in this re-formation,

this cell-by-cell re-construction,

only a patient bliss,

a core of Buddha love,

an attitude of slow turning

across the wavering tiles,

under the melting clock

where I watch through your eyes

the slow dissolve

of this room

where I wait.

 

‘The 100′ series was initiated by my 100th Post in April 2012. As text and images are the essence of my blog I will post 100 pieces of textual art from historical and contemporary artists and from my own hand. To view the series to date click on ‘The 100’ in my Category Menu.

‘The 100’ #72 – The Waiting Room Drawings.2.

waiting room 2

The Waiting Room Drawings #2 – mixed media – by clinock.   April 11. 2013.

Considerable Latitude by clinock.
When lines intersect
light is born
casting arcs across space,
glowing filaments
waiting for passage.

When lines touch
Magic is afoot,
Time is a broken dream
and the night
waits for release.

When lines tangle
shapes are drawn,
figures and faces search
far distances
waiting to dance.

When lines dissolve
Space is illusion,
Time is healed in colour
and immaculate Magic
waits to be tamed.

In The Waiting Room
all lines lead inward.

‘The 100′ series was initiated by my 100th Post in April 2012. As text and images are the essence of my blog I will post 100 pieces of textual art from historical and contemporary artists and from my own hand. To view the series to date click on ‘The 100’ in my Category Menu.