Ghosts – Dreams for Sale

bed1Ghosts sleep

behind this window glass,

their memories confused

by labyrinths of iron

and caresses

of prospective buyers.

 

Their spines and cheeks

leave no impression

but I see them,

layered deep in time,

all who slept and dreamed and loved

on this Baroque and dislocated bed

embraced in the arms of Morpheus.

 

The antique sign says

“Dreams for Sale.”

Outside looking in

I am inside looking out.

My face reflects

on haunted pillows.

I pause,

whisper

“You are loved”

and walk on.

 

 Photo and Poem by clinock. (edited redux)

Ghosts – Joan of Arc

joan of arcSeeking sanctuary from the pyre

beneath her cold and holy dance

I am unmasked by shredded arcs,

frozen between invisible armor

and tundric nakedness

as she surrenders to a higher love.

 

She moves in fires I cannot enter

and consumes my night in flames.

She pours herself through me

a radiant and smoldering lava

burning a charcoaled path

on which I follow her bright beauty.

 

There is a 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 silent ghost of ash and passion.

 

painting (enhanced) 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.

Word Clouds 2 and Slogan #5 (Douglas Coupland at the VAG)

word cloud 3(interviewer) Are there deeper connections between your art and novels?
(Coupland) They’re so interconnected. You can’t just kill one Siamese twin. Part of the survey is a [section] where books become objects and then objects turn into words. And each of my books has all sorts of suggestions of either sculpture or installation or time-based art. In Microserfs in particular, there’s all those word clouds. The premise was What if your hard drive was dreaming? And guess what? Twenty years later, word clouds are just the way we file information now. For a decade I got people saying, “Gosh, Doug, your writing is very, dot-dot-dot, visual isn’t it? And I was never sure if it was a put-down or put-up. I realized what they’re telling me is “Doug, I’m not a visual thinker, and your books are written that way so it’s very hard for me to get into them.” I think non visual thinking is spread around the human race in a 2-to-1 ratio to visual thinking. Inasmuch as there’s a book world, I’ve never felt a part of it, and I don’t think I ever will.

Thanks to http://www.vulture.com/ for this interview fragment.

word clouds 4Slogan # 5:

Slogan 5Please see my first post in this series for full explanation of all posts. Also see my first ‘Slogans’ and ‘Word Cloud’ posts for details on this section.

Credits: thank you to Douglas Coupland and the Vancouver Art Gallery for images and wall descriptions.

All photos by clinock.

 

Word Clouds and Slogan #4 (Douglas Coupland at the VAG)

word cloud 1word cloud description

 Word Clouds, another room in the VAG of Douglas Coupland’s text-based art. We all are familiar with Word Clouds and many of us use them in the ‘content’ area of our blogs, but it’s fascinating to view Coupland’s early 20th century concept of this as a computer’s dream.

word cloud 2

There is something random and incongruous here, reminding me of Dadaist poetry. These works are framed behind glass so what looks like reflections on their surfaces actually are reflections….another level of seeing. The fact that they are framed behind glass as traditional works of art adds to the incongruity. A preciously framed computer’s dream!

Slogan #4:

Slogans 4Do I? Do You? Can we ever go back? Honestly?

Please see my first post in this series for full explanation of all posts. Also see my first ‘Slogans’ post for details on this section.

Credits: thank you to Douglas Coupland and the Vancouver Art Gallery for images and wall descriptions.

All photos by clinock.

Footnote: to save you looking it up…Shinhatsubai (新発売) is a marketing ploy widely used in Japan that is slowly spreading internationally.
In a nutshell, ShinHatsubai can be interpreted as “New out” and is used to denote the latest and greatest generation of some product or other. From cars to computers the Japanese media feeds the consumerism that has become the norm in Japanese society where the vast majority of people feel compelled to have the latest thing.

Thank you to: http://michaelkishi.wordpress.com/ for this information.

Pencil noir #3

clinock:

You may have met Jana through my BLOG TOUR post and her response. Jana is an explorer of who we are and why, in poetry, art and brilliant writing. I loved her textual self-portrait and couldn’t resist sharing it here. Visit Jana’s blog, ‘Poetry of Light’ and enjoy her other amazing work.

Originally posted on Poetry of Light:

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Scan

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a slow infestation

of oblique aural patternings

insinuating

edgy consonants

and limbic vowel howls

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pencil drawing and poem : j.h.white

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