Monday, October 21, 2019

Sensational Curves
















Art: Mark Collins
https://markcollinsfineart.com/


Stick figures are drawn,
and then, hung.

As children, what were we
supposed to learn from that
about body image?

Sometimes, they called me
a stick figure. It wasn’t meant
to be nice. Once, in front of
the other kids, my coach handed
me a big tub of peanut butter
and told me to eat it.

I wondered if I’d ever have
curves and if I’d be lovable
then.

I thought:

“That would be sensational!”

~

When people think of flamingos,
I think they think of pink and,
then, legs. Maybe they stand there,
for a bit, contemplating that beak
that was put on upside down
and backwards.

But, you know, if you really watch
a flamingo, you must conclude
that they are all about showing
off their curves.

Strut right, leg up, forward, down.
Left, leg up, forward, down. Lean
in, twist just so, make it hippy,
lift a little wing.

Paying attention to me now?

Stretch the long neck out, up, angle,
slowly now, in, start to tuck, roll,
bring the head around, look at that
shape, the sensational curves!

Hold for a count of five.

Do you still think we are alone
in the universe?

~

Every day, well almost every day,
when the painter takes a walk down
to the stream, he picks up a pebble
and gives it a name. Something, like:

“Sensational.”

He started doing this for the poet,
but those little stones claimed
his life too.

So, now, when it lands in the water,
with a plink or a plop,
what ripples forth, in row after
row of curves, is a two-fold blessing.

We are not alone.

~
And, there’s at least one more
thing to say about curves.

Look to the right, to the left,
in front, behind. Turn your head
all around.

Pay attention now. Notice that
we are all lovable.

Isn’t that sensational!


~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author
For a book collaboration in progress with artist Mark Collins

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Wednesday, October 16, 2019

Autumn Rain
















Photo: (c) Jamie K. Reaser


There have been years, when the summer has
been so dry, that this wish arrives deep

in the soul, wanting autumn rains to yield to prayers.
I think that there are within us certain longings

that, no matter the rules of the times, find us
embodying our animal ways, the longings

that take us back to the realization that this
isn’t ours to control, that there is something else
out there that we depend on. Today, it’s the

rain and whoever it is that caretakes the rain.
And too, there is this thing that happens when

you realize that the earth is rejoicing along with
you—listen to the way it praises!—that some of our
desires are shared with things that are still enlivened
though it has become convenient to think them not.

So, this is what it is like to light the first fire in the
woodstove as the rain pelts the metal roof and I
consider that here too is another day to be grateful
for the company that keeps me alive.


~ Jamie K. Reaser, Author
From "Truth and Beauty: Poems on the Nature of Humanity"

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