Archive for August, 2012

“the dreaming sea”

swimming in the dreaming pool

at the end of the dimming world

fireflies are whirring in the droning distance

sugar clouds are rushing overhead

here?

in the thinning grey…

clocks move like motionless time

they are the coming fall

women are driving on maps of gold

here in the sleeping shadows

one deep layer beneath another

falling through the hourglass way

on the sand of yellow beaches

near the castles of the moon

there in the slumbering bay

you are breathing now slowly

in the grip of this evening’s foray

there will be lips

and kisses

and millions of days

drifting faster, then slowly

well on your way

but when comes morning?

nearing like starlight

warming little faces that flee

there will be no more swimming

no more wondering

there is nothing more i can say

for you are alone now

set a drifting…

there?

in the dreaming sea

 

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/22/12

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“on the trail of dreams”

all the dust

like little dream makers

softly falling on your skin

you breathe them in

a lung full of memories

yearning in low sweeping passes

touched by the splendor

what arduous journeys now press upon your soul

you search the empty trail

hearing foot falls in the distance glow

the scent of the gathering grows

content now in what you sense

your small feet catching pollen

stripped from the crushed meadow flowers

for this way have you come

never to return the waking hours

never to become the ponderous one

falling from the scorn of golden ages

appearing in doorways

hanging on the arms of innocence

you that travel on sensuous roads

waiting for the tasting of something new

something beyond compare

like sweet lemons plucked from a constellation

stinging red lips

a burning ocean of wind

driven by the soundless fire

making your way

down through the woods

full of strange creatures glancing

you speak to them

you join them

and now you are dancing

so let them partake

of your dreams small and dusty

for when the dawn comes

all things will scatter

and you must regain the trail

and the searching

for this is what matters!

 

Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/17/12

“the one”

what is the art of sadness?

of cold hearts

on cold beds

dark oceans apart

alone in the lingering

in the dancing shafts of light

crossing borders and boundaries

stolen from our sight

think of these short whispers

of warm hands touching

outside the yearning

without conventions

in fields far crossed

green with envy

like soft homes

born of the narrows

ordered and right

and the laughing

the lying

the breathlessness

forever

always

holding on to this

forever

it’s always

the emptiness

and when her eyes were watching me

the sadness

for you are the only

the only

the one

 

Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/16/12

“the little things”

little drops of honest smoke

pitter patter the chalky sidewalk

and little words

like whispy voices

shatter the calm

thoughts melt like buttercream

on frosted eye lashes shimmering

and little tears

like downy streams

run ever softly

from hills and narrows

green with english rain

soft cheeks brush

outside beyond the calling

and little tones

make little noises

that stretch beyond the horizon

and so remember…

when there is nothing

shadows glow in amber darkness

like beautiful secrets born

they climb aloft

like silly sparrows

and then they’re gone

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/13/12

“baby and birds”

i am moved by the weight of sound

and the scent of steaming raindrops

as they course over the bitter blacktop

lungs filled with hot summer air

my mind simmering like the day

and i touch the broken grass

it tickles my stocking feet

while i gaze into the canopy

birds are speaking loudly

they want me to hear

for their lyrics are profound

where will they be

when comes the snow and ice

in some great distant land

singing praises there

i am stirred by the shifting light of dusk

it makes of me a fool

hiding truth amidst the darkness

what strange sounds come now

in backyards

outside the dusty window panes

and i touch the stained glass

its texture feels my fingers

tracing out all the history

that has passed through in colored light

so make for me this bed

for in sleep i shall remember

what comes in days and hours

forming rhymes and rhythms

swinging in the dreaming hammock

and waking to devour

i am lifted by this spirit

so lonely in the darkness

i have fallen from my perch

feeling momentary sadness

but when i see her face

her golden baby smile

i take her out to see the birds

perhaps she can translate for awhile

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/3/12

“beauty”

“beauty”

 

what is it about beauty?

the way she curls up so tightly ‘round your heart

all the pressure of the mighty universe

wound fist-tight

like a ball of string

as of yet unmet by needle

untouched by soft hands

 

she is an angel purring at your doorstep

and all the yards of european lace

all the flowers in spring

her equal they are not

for she is the taste of sweetness

on loving lips so warm

she brings about the yearning

in your dreams before the dawn

casting out the darkness

no mirror to unworthy forms

 

her movement strikes at elegance

words beyond compare

yellow daisy waterfalls

taking a distant second place

 

she is the wind and song

the gentle ocean spray

the beaming light of towers

in the ancient city squares

 

oh how you thought you knew her

she is gone now from your sight

she filters through the ages

filling darkness with her light

 

and if you want her back

you must speak these words tonight

come back to me sweet beauty

for i am nothing when you’re gone

you have left an empty void

and in the stillness  i await

to see the casting of your shadow

on my pillow bedside warm

and even should i die

before your form it does return

i will long for you in lifetimes

not just this one

 

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/2/12

“california”

california calls me

like a hot summer winded flame

burning in the nearing draw

what a host of cool mounting feelings

and sweet warm memories

there in the misty mountains

on the afternoon of trails

winding through kaleidoscope hills

with little green whispers tickling my ear

small fast cars

and dreamy smoke filled canyons

mothers sisters daughters

lovely brides

in marshmallow white dresses

hot dusty vineyards burning

in a storm of dry white-air kisses

laughter and tears

and long drives from the city

a mind full of ideas

dreams breathing

sorrowful eyes sweating

all these things come and go

they have been

and will forever be

a fabric woven deep

in the heart of circumstance

and when the wheels touch down

and when the fog of flight grows dim

we will emerge from this ark of travel

to embrace the ones we love

with cheeks and kisses

hearts and flutters

a week to spend

made of days and evenings

wondering with delight

never wanting to know of leaving

nor of sadness

nor of night

for we have come from far flung places

and known these ways before

they are locked up in secret spaces

like a river flowing sound

and as we dive to the depths of wonder

with laughter at our side

once more we will be together

under stars that throb and bind

with nothing left but forever

these sweet simple moments alive

oh how we share each other

in these moments of passing time

 

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/2/12

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