The Meadows of the Dead

Image: from fabandfru.com

The Meadows of the Dead are carpeted
brandished with flashing neon lights
and cluttered with slot machines -

some of which declare 
"Wheel of Fortune"
endlessly. 

Oases exist in this desert-of-the-Soul: 

Human bodies congregate around
large concrete pools
of imported and toxified water. 

In the vacuous flesh is evidenced
the processing of Life's poorly
digested obscenities into obesity 

or cadaverousness. 

Here the sensitive skin,
our means of touching and being touched
by all else that lives,
is transformed into thick, tanned leather 

and a relationship with Spirit
is sought in iced, twelve inch tumblers
of spirits. 

On display on tables in pyramids, castles, and towers
are gyrating women who will never be Witnessed
by the empty-eyed men who
brandish stacks of This Time's most worshiped icto
and tuck it feverishly into
things stitched by children in China. 

If you are lucky,
the dice will roll snake eyes
in the very moment that you have harshly
judged it all,

and the entire landscape will flip 90 degrees, 
like a Cirque du Soleil stage,
becoming a full length mirror. 

What agony!

What incredible nausea the ego exudes 
as it resist owning the images of 
the wounded ones within. 

What ecstacy!

But the Soul
who befriends their Shadow
has no qualms vomiting
into the shrubbery by the taxi cab stand
becomes it knows 

this is an invitation to purge
what no longer Serves.

Jackpot. 

When you again lift your head hight
with the courage to See more,
a stroke of magic
substitutes The Sacred for The Profane
and suddenly 
it becomes evident that these mirrored
people of the desert are
the most dedicated of Life's Deciples.

Tourist, 

You must cash this winning in and take it Home. 

But,

before you do, 

Be curious as to the slight of hand,
and inquire of the angle disguised
as a large-eared bartender.

He'll write on your napkin
something like: 

"Two parts compassion to
one part gratitude." 

(c) 2010-2013/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out (www.hiraethpress.com)

Sweet Passage

Image: origin unknown

Sweet passing glance

of a stranger.

Were you a lifetime,

once upon a time?

How do I best bestow hospitality

upon the dog-tracked-in-soil

that is of ancestral body and breath?

The stars above have had their stories told

and could tell you mine.

Would I recognize it?

Time’s passage blesses truth with

an ever-thinning veil of mystery.

Some day we will See…

Nothing ever goes unfound by Love

if you invite

its presence

into you…

the Source.

© 2010/ Jamie K. Reaser

Be-loved Gaia

Image: origin unknown

Intimacy is the fingerprint

of a the fully present witness,

and I know Her body

well enough to read

the pigeon-feather spray of a

Cooper’s Hawk hit,

the rise of a toad’s gastric

passing in garden mulch,

the Monarch caterpillar's inscription

on late-season milkweed leaf.

Oh but the grief.

Someone has been here

before me.

All these wounds…

I leave no such mark

on my Lover’s body.

(c) 2010-2012/Jamie K. Reaser
Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" (http://www.hiraethpress.com)

Purging Anger

Photo: Jamie K. Reaser

Witnessing Sin,

the forgotten Sacred Truth

of Self and Other.

Toxins in the water supply

and coursing the blood

of humanity

embodied and spilled.

A turning back.

Failure to see,

listen,

touch.

Suffering as an addiction

or currency.

Ego’s insatiable consumption.

Waste.

Insecurity of any kind.

The man,

woman,

child,

who takes dictation

and acts upon it.

The man,

woman,

child,

who dictates

and sacrifices

others at the altar

of his or her own neediness.

War as a pathway to Peace

or anywhere else.

Conditional

humanitarianism.

Love withheld.

Color sightedness.

Mimicry.

Gas prices

as a measure of

the quality of Life.

Numbness.

TV: a companion.

Judgment.

The concepts of

possession,

disposability,

and disobedience.

Friend-Stranger-Enemy.

Fear as the basis

for decision-making

in any context.

Hate crimes.

Heart crimes.

Criminality.

Caging.

Death and Life as penalties.

Unforgivable.

Shameful.

Impatience.

The lack of apology.

A lacking apology.

Apology for lacking.

Lack of acceptance.

No choice.

“No.”

“Can’t” and “Won’t.”

“Should” and “Must”

and their opposites.

“Please” as a grovel.

The wealth of poverty

and

the poverty of wealth.

Aloneness in

a world of six billion

and counting.

A perception that isolation

and solitude are one

the same.

The domestication of Spirit.

The silenced voice of Soul.

My own hypocrisy.

Bless me with a heart

big enough to

love my way through.

(c) 2003-2018/Jamie K. Reaser

Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out"

Feel free to share

House of Cards

Image: origin unknown

Let go,

It wasn’t meant to last –

Nothing but true love is.

The instability that you’ve

been witnessing

is a sign –

Gravity wants to help you out…

It’s time for The descent and grounding.

Fall to your own knees

if you must -

Humus, humility, and human

share the same origin.

Oh, please -

Be the wind

confident across your lips

that says,

“I will honorably destroy

that which I created

and bare witness

to this loss with the

fullness of my heart.”

Only the creator

has the universal blueprint -

This you should Know.

Let your personal

house of cards come

tumbling down

in majestic chaos.

Yes,

Garner the courage to

turn your tethered struggle

into a holy offering –

Candle light,

glitter,

and a nice glass of wine –

Feed the Holy your

untimely attachments

and you’ll both be

fully satiated.

I want to watch your

heels fly high as you

dance the mythos

of security to

death –

like a passion-drunk

dervish.

That’s right.

No more investing your energy

in the fallacy of indefinite stabilization,

snatch the most pivotal card

and invite the child of you

to toss it in uproarious play.

Be sure,

absolutely sure,

to revel in the multi-story crash -

For a long while if you will…

Bring your tears and party hats.

Severance, my friend,

is a passageway to joy -

This you should know.

Let go.

Let go,

It wasn’t meant to last –

Nothing but true love is.

~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author

Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" 

The Ache

Image: from http://juliewilliamsimagesandwords.blogspot.com/

for Patricia Malia

There is a question aching within your Soul.

I’ve heard it in the quiver of your voice,

seen it in the dip of your eye.

Only you can truly hear it.

Only you can authentically answer it.

Only you can act unabashedly upon it.

“Oh which way to go?” cried

in the melancholy

of morning and night.

Curse the Universe for failing

to supply the directions.

Heels in a proverbial quagmire

at the crossroads.

Let yourself ache into the awareness

that all the roads lead to

where you are right now.

This moment.

At this crossroads.

And, the fricken train doesn’t run on schedule.

Yes, I know.

Take in a deep breath Sister and lift your eyes.

Listen to the wind in the late summer grasses -

"Do you love yourself enough?"

And, the parched stems bend over further…

"Do you love yourSelf enough?"

Breathe out Sister and look inward.

In the instant that the answer becomes “Yes!” -

No hesitation.

Do the most courageous thing you’ve ever done.

© 2010-2013/Jamie K. Reaser

Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" (www.hiraethpress.com)

The Rising Times

Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser

These are the rising times,

the rising of the sweet potency

within your soul.

The rising of humanity

to meet its greatest potential.

You know it.

You feel it.

Deep within your root,

there is a quivering.

It’s true.

It’s that uncertainty.

It’s that chaos.

It’s that which you fear

will shake you to your core.

Bless you,

I hope it will.

These are the rising times.

Let your authentic power rise.

Let your voice fly on

impassioned thermals,

high,

like a hawk kettling amidst the gods.

These are the rising times.

Stand up for what you believe in.

Stand up for those who have

been beaten down,

whatever their creed or form.

Stand up because humans are

not designed to crawl indefinitely,

And now is the time.

These are the rising times.

These are the rising times.

Raise your arms high above your head.

Look up.

You’re a vast being in a vast universe.

How lucky you are to be here now.

Be here now.

These are the rising times.

Glory to the phoenix for

teaching us that ashes are not

an end point,

but a bed for consummating that

which is destined to be reborn.

Believe in the heat and glow.

These are the rising times -

and I’ll stand beside you

as we see these times through.

Standing together -

that’s all She has ever wanted for us.

Stand up and stand together.

It’s really that simple for us

to become fully human.

The sun has been showing us how

every morning,

and the moon, every night -

Rising…

Did you realize?

These are the rising times.

© 2010-2019/Jamie K. Reaser

Published in "Note to Self: Poems for Changing the World from the Inside Out" 

Feel free to share