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even in sadness
there are tart little beauties.
they calm me and entice me
like sweet fragrant coffee in the morning.
these are the candied moments that i must seek out,
those that leave a lingering sweetness on the tongue.
i must be a happy and joyful being
even when the clouds of time litter my path
with the bitter sweat of days gone by.
and so i walk on gilded stairs
through glistening hallways,
sensing the music of opportunity,
a pale yellow symphony in the distance.
the winds of time are beautiful
even as they sound out on tree-hung chimes
even as the leaf-less trees form a dancing troupe
that welcomes me home.
i must see the little paths diverging.
i must try them all.
they form the way of the undiscovered country
and land us on soft alpine meadows
among the towering wonder of ancient spires.

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/23/12

this is a soul-crushing time
a time of endless thoughts
bent like a coffin nail
dead dreams can no longer rise
the ash too deep, the soot too heavy
the weight of a thousand sinister memories
crawl across my grey body
i am lost in this city
a black sticky bog about my feet
and this craving
a strong craving to go out into the wilderness
to pitch a lonely tent
on a lonely mountain top
to breathe out across the winded expanse
emptied of things man made
void of the trappings that make the mundane
but alas, the societal chain will not free me
it rings out like a death knell
my wishes for a moon’s worth of solitude shall not be
and so i am here for the unresting of days
still here…
and wondering,
when will the door to freedom be unlocked?

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/23/12

two crows are perched above
a gray sky lingers like winter sweat
an army of locusts are slumbering in the earth
i await the day
out the door on folding roads
they lead nowhere and everywhere at once
arrival is a ritual born deep in the south
ginger root tea is offered round the table
woodsmoke is etched in facial lines
and conversation is slow in the taking
we have come to trade our lives
a soul wagering fortune is thrust about
the women are in the yard
tension builds to a tight-wire pitch
these occasions call for something stronger
the rusting lid is coaxed from the jar
the drink is communal
it burns and warms out the chill
the old shotgun stares down at me
no doubt it carries a message to all that enter
no one speaks
for there is no need
every story has been told a thousand times over
there will be no breaking of the bread
no well-wishes
i ask to step outside
it’s colder now
i cast my old copper penny
down the dream well it falls
in the balance of time i never hear the splash
no wishes remain
a distant alarm is sounding
the song remains the same
i only hope that when i am pulled from my slumber
my loving wife will remain…

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari

in fire, there is light!

warm home comings
find you showered in rose water candy.
all the pretty dresses swirl about
like spinning umbrellas held aloft to a maddening sky.
dancers tumble motionless on a cotton candy stage.
the vibrancy of the moment is captured like a summer-death firefly.
well-wishers jostle for position to see the queen.
air is lost, sound is trapped,
and the precious crown dulls in the fixing stage flash.
you are more than a glass ornament on this tree.
you are the hopes and wishes of all that came before you.
unfurl the banner of your truth.
make it sing to the oncoming crowds.
carry on to the highest himalayan peaks.
you are the star-dust snow fairy
swooning in the atmospheric light.
but don’t be too harsh,
for we love you so,
and when the wailing has ceased
and all your admirers have gone,
you will be back in your jar,
in your box,
in your home…

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/18/12

the divine voice roams the sanctuary of time.
the buttery flow of words astound.
even to hear but an accounting of such things is golden.
and the shine!
and the taste of wild berries on the hillside
are the little daisy clues we must not dismiss.
for it comes in the wonder-eyed glance of a child,
winding the astonishment of strings around us.
crystal orbs refract and dissipate the warmth.
silent pictures flow like smoke in the morning.
lawns and homes are smooth glass tidings,
they bear out the human condition.
they radiate the cycle of man.
gone will be the days of war and shame!
gone must be the absurd tragedy we have staged.
for we are one!
and ever shall be one.
a single soul, eternal…

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/18/12

life…
like a wave it throttles me!
i am the buried ash and smoke of dark memories.
the rain and wind threaten to sink my precarious vessel.
i am the rudderless ship,
but the tears don’t come.
all that seems left,
a sun-broken, parched, well of arabia.

if i land on foreign shores i may not be found,
lost in the dwindling light of wreck and bones,
i know not where i have been.
there is no vision from the bottomless wave.
i know not the place of soft soles resting.
but it is all that i wish for…
a silent awakening to the light of freedom.

there is a bluff that overlooks a delicate tide,
i am waiting…
the bare-shouldered assassin draws near.

her eyes are muted dreams,
the color of holy creekstone.

now i remember her ways
as i scramble over the cool-frost ground.
she is coming to take me…

i have fought the balance of her trembling smile.
it took me over.
i have scaled her barb wire kisses
they melt me.
her words have song-like power,
i am a dervish in her dance.

the tipping point now comes
at the edge of her spear.
she thrusts it into my heart
and like the sun-dried rain she disappears…

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/13/12

there are places buried deep in the heart of man
undiscovered by prying eyes
they are unknown to most
bubbling up from some lost mountain spring
a shallow pool of thoughts
a hidden growing force
you will find it in yourself
as you trample over the moss-covered ground
wet with redemption

it is found in the bindings of the ancient books
a cryptic form of language spoken by none
it can only be sensed
not touched with hands
it cannot be written by the faithful scribe
it is a love letter
written on soul-paper
disappearing under the spell of a harsh breath

so know it is there
somewhere inside
fear not the coming rush of emotion
it stabs at the soul
but awakens the mind
and when you are lost
it will find you
wherever you have gone
to the tall mountain peak
or the dark dungeon beneath
remember what i have told you
tonight before you sleep
there are deep buried sorrows
an inch beneath your feet

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/12/12

they say that snow is coming
sweet sugar falling from the sky
the people want and wait
it’s the cold love-shower desire
a million shimmering phantom dancers
veering across a sky-stage
it fills the little cracks
in our hearts and in our streets
it’s our insulation from the devils beneath
a crystallized crust of protection

i have been in its grasp
cold fingers up my back
it grabs long eye lashes
and brings spirits across
so you drive to the country
to see the great expanse
a cotton filled ocean about

the horizon is filled
and the darkness has come
all that is left is a moon glow reflection
your mirrored white face
now warm in your cabin
by the earth-stone place
a fire is growing
a blazing embrace
you sleep to the sound of the world
floating gently in place.

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/12/12

there is a quantum string that binds us all!
it was born of creation,
from the invisible dust.
you feel my presence,
i am thinking your name
and in the hour of commune,
we now breathe as one.

i knew you would come,
as a vision from my past.
i knew the smell of your perfume,
before you were born.

we have carved the face of this planet.
we are the spinning memories,
shifting and falling through time.
bound only by our lacking,
driven by what we think we should see.

the cycle is a cold-fire burn.

but i hear what you feel,
it comes to me in myriad colors.
i taste what you see,
your visions burn my lips.
and i breathe in your whispers,
they tickle my throat.

you are part of my essence,
your walk and your talk.
we dance through this wind-fire garden,
electric with might.
and stand for the ages,
determined to find,
the string that has bound us,
our destiny entwined.

it leads us to dream,
to dream of a theory…
elliptical might
and orbit round our consciousness,
this pressed spectrum of light.

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/11/12