14
Apr
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blog, blogging, corona virus, corona virus poem, corona virus poetry, coronavirus, coronavirus poem, coronavirus poetry, covid-19, covid-19 poem, covid-19 poetry, family, home, pandemic, poems, poetry, sun, writing. 1 Comment
sheltered in place
our carbon sequestered
on the horizon
a daylight moon
she calls to me
from her now dark acre
along the steep hillside
this star-flung holler
a string of lanterns
nine in the yard
the green lights are racing
for the governor’s charge
we have the sun
and we have our cells
a halo around them
strewn with nails
the cars are fewer
and the questions more
we wait without silence
as never before
she calls to me
from her now white spire
alone in her resemblance
her toes on the wire
a row of beds
nine in the ward
a halo above them
cascading light
a future remembered
for the past clouds our sight
i will walk with her surely
in the cold morning light
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 4/14/20
25
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: baroque, barriers, bees, consciousness, dreams, eternity, forever, harpsichord, honey, lost, metronome, mystique, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, senses, sight, sound, vision, walls, wander, wonder, writer, writing. Leave a Comment
i wonder what the sounds of time have seen
as they crawled over ridge tops
down towards those ravines
like orchards they have sprung
and from their branches came leaves
such a fruitful mystique
a harpsichord drama
a baroque woman’s dream
they were dressed in the harshness
that of storms, that of steam
but now they are gone
like bees from a hive
for i only see the shadows
of their honey-whispered teams
a metronome, i must now become
the keeper of time
a brush on the drum
i will call from this window
over mountains and miles
i will tear down those walls
and reveal those sweet smiles
for i am the sound
and the sights i have seen
i am the one that wanders
forever lost,
in this dream…
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari
27
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, amazement, coffee, dream, dreams, heart, love, picture, poem, poems, poet, poetic, poetry, poetry blog, poetry blogger, relationship, relationships, see, sight, silence, silent, unbroken, unbroken chain, vast, wind, wonder, wonderful, world. Leave a Comment
i have seen her bathing
in a swell of mountain sweat
her curls singed by miles
the smell of oak on a fiery wind
and yet so soft does she remain
a sculptured form in cotton
a sugary whisp of air so gently stumbling
my eyes are widened with amazement
a dusting of cinnamon upon my coffee-stained lips
this powdered world from which i see
toes and eye lashes and all those wonderful things
a foot in leathered straps
over rocks and moss and oceans
big blue dreams are cascading
the streets are filled with stars
all of them are falling
wishing they were yours
but none have come to know you
the way you take your toast in the morning
on a chair inside my heart
and so there it is
on a perch so gently nestled
between my ribs and near my throat
a home that you have found
a smallness by the river
a distant trickling sound
but even should it grow silent
the colors still remain
those that paint the picture
of this vast, unbroken chain
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/27/18
6
Jan
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blog, blogger, blogging, cereal, children, coffee, girls, kids, memories, mornings, nostalgia, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry blogger, poetry site, poetry website, poetry writer, poetry writing, red balloons, seasons, soul, the beatles, time, wife, winter, wives, yellow submarine. Leave a Comment
it’s a yellow submarine morning
colder than the eyes of some forbidden danger
a spark of light by the curtains glow
red balloons across the sky
they have come to take me on
no more black birds singing in the darkest night
we have come to another day in the life
thinking back, i remember just now
our fires burning such a deepest cavern in the snow
our conversations like journeys flown
i hear now what percolates
in yonder distant rooms
filled with wives and children
with cereal and spoons
and to a desk with pen and ink
to strike the sounds of thought
to ponder and to think
i become the soul of time
crafting a digital word-spun rhyme
and as i look upon these lines
across the clutter, grown like vines
i think of drawers and shelves and pockets
placing such secrets softly
on a page of light and time
and perhaps one year from now
when the cold and white does shine
i will remember why i wrote these
simple, scattered lines
they will bring me back
to a moment, a place, a time
and I will think of winter
so beautiful, so cruel
so measured, so divine
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/6/18
10
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: ancient, bride, dreaming, dreams, enchanting, hunger, infinity, June, light, love, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, pollinators, roman, sky, sleep, summer, summer love, sunflowers, water. Leave a Comment
colors fade like arches settled in roman dust
water drips from the old copper-green faucet
all the while… our diesel fed sunflowers grow
their faces splintered by hungry pollinators
round as the sun in their creamy, yellow brightness
they were but a strange, enchanting sight
dressed in fastidious rows
a gorgeous bowtie on the edge of this world
the bicycles were racked and rusted
locked and resting
waiting to be unleashed
their pedals just astride
perhaps in just a moment
a glorious, professorial ambassador shall arrive
but just down the steps
she waited…
like the text of an ancient manuscript
her thoughts hidden deep inside
oh how she provokes me
her yellow dress, her lovely stride
just like summer come early
a dreamy june-bug bride
i think that i shall catch her
and save her light in a jar inside
by my bedside i will keep her
she will permeate my dreams
as she sleeps so nearly by
such is my flight of fancy
like writing in the sky
and one day i will find her
on a sidewalk passing by
together we will walk as strangers
two separate lights
born of the same infinite sky
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/10/17
10
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: arms, blog, death, hearts, husband, love, lovers, mountains, old, partners, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, rivers, seas, tears, wife, woods. Leave a Comment
over the river
and through the woods
straight into your heart
is where i’ll go
through the mountains
and over the seas
straight into your arms
is where i’ll flow
all the tears
that i have cried
all wash away
when i’m by your side
so hold me in
your loving arms
until we’re old
and dead
and gone
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/9/17
26
Oct
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, cell, cold, dance, dancing, delight, dream catcher, fall, falling, feet, immortal, leaves, light, mirror, mirrors, music, night, peotry, poem, poems, poet, poetry blog, poetry blogger, poetry site, poetry website, poetry writer, poetry writing, reflect, reflection, sight, soul, souls, spirit, stories, summer, thought, thoughts, tree, trees, wind, winter, wood, writers blog, writing poetry. Leave a Comment
cold words fall like a drafty afterthought
the dream catcher leaves have arrived
our woods retain sudden memories of warmth
there is a new kind of music that swirls in our driveways
and a familiar sort of dance
it is one for the trees
and for their dearly departed souls
they crumble and drift
they rattle and hum
a trillion cells immortal
gone to live beneath our feet
and oh how we breathe
our hearts in repose
we have sanctioned their coming
though such memories are but on loan
they have triggered our senses
those first to be found
now surrendering forever
for in the winter they will have gone
but i shall be your ghosted firefly
your remnants of summer
and in the evening your pumpkins
so lovingly carved out of light
i will smile from doorways open
and walk your sugary streets
for i have been in such worlds
i have tasted those treats
but while we are here
in a place…
so strangely familiar
perhaps we should ask…
what words have you seen falling?
are you such a catcher of dreams?
we must ponder how they answer
those warm wooden trees
it is not enough to simply listen
to hear their songs in the night
we must wonder why they tremble
so cold with delight
as if their notes were softly telling
this story of the night
or should we wonder?
have we missed something greater…
perhaps just this season
our earthly prayers bathed in light
or a symbol freshly shattered
a reflective mirror
for those without sight
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 10/26/16
12
Nov
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, autumn, birds, blog, blogger, blogging, clouds, dream, dreamer, dreaming, fall, flight, happiness, love, mindfulness, seasons, singing, song, songs, soul, spirit, wind. Leave a Comment
she has come to me
like a swell of autumnal golden wind
her immense energies run wild through my hair
my sunglassed watery eyes are singing
the scratch and rustle of her myriad refuse
it litters my pathway like a dream cut from a yellowish brown world
and i am stillness in her path
my mindful steps so quietly touch the firmament
i drink the enormity of this boundless energy
and wonder over the former parts of myself
now cast among the stars of a different reality
how now do they mingle?
what sly and clever forms have they taken?
are they the birds that sang to me when I was lost?
are they the clouds that kept the morning sun at bay?
perhaps i should just never know…
and why shall i lament?
for i am the bird that sings upon this morning
and in the evening, the clouds will i become
i will shade you from such burdens
giving flight to lost horizons
and when that kiss of wind
it comes again in spring
my lips will be unfrozen
having awakened from this dream
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 11/12/15
10
Dec
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: ancient, antique, antiques, battle, battles, children, daughter, daughters, death, dream, dreams, embrace, fabric, families, family, father, fathers, flag, flags, form, forms, heart, hearts, husband, husbands, love poem, love poems, mother, mothers, poem, poem about love, poem blog, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poetry writing, poets, poets blog, possession, possessions, son, sons, soul, souls, stranger, strangers, the small things, tiny home, tiny homes, tiny house, tiny houses, travel, travelers, urban sprawl, war, warmth, wife, wives. Leave a Comment
we were born of the antique and ancient forms
our stories woven from the fabric of our dyed and twisted yarns
like the wreckage of so many voyages lost and long
those travelers floating over poles
our souls on the battlefields mourned
we are assembled from the glass of mirrors that have passed
from the love of our mothers and our fathers dead and gone
in the comfort of our rituals we are dressed in softly stolen silks
and we think upon those travelers
those many bridges they have crossed
we wonder how their flags are planted
where the mountains meet the sky
and now we live as strangers
our families just so splintered
we are driven and we are torn
the swollen weight of our possessions
the magnificent size of our earthly homes
but what we need is tiny
it fits inside our hearts
a formation of the soul
it cannot be found in store fronts
or in those luminous shopping malls
it lives just near the fire
and in your child’s warm embrace
sometimes driving madly
but always in the end
our only true possession
perhaps a wife or son or daughter
it may just be a lover or a dream that never ends
and perhaps…
even just a friend
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/10/14
26
Nov
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: carvings, discovery, dreams, evenings, fall, leaves, lost, mornings, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poets, poets blog, prayer, prayers, prisons, stars, totem, totems, whispers, writer, writers blog, writing, writing poetry. Leave a Comment
our doors lie open wounded
driven like the dust of papered worlds
a brilliantly tattered totem
so ornately carved in whispers
and on the tips of tongues
upon the tops of pillars
they are but simple prayers
flowing from our lips like vapor
such evidence as we have found
for it was written in the stars
and printed in the papers
it was pressed below our tables
in the hands of mystics and soothsayers
like prisons we possessed them
we trapped their sweetness between layers
and here alone we travel
to our backyard garden swings
the air of smoke so thick and full of dreams
with our hands we try to catch them
so we may discover what remains
but as we hold them in our lungs
they shall take our only breath
for they are faster and they savor
those simple songs that dance in shadow
like broken leaves along the ground
sweetly rustling in the evening
and when our mornings come
we expect to capture them once more
but forever we have lost them
and never again shall they be found
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 11/26/14
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