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shaking arms
and shaking hands,
they form a sweet little picture
dark varnished on the coffee house wall.
and the stain of daytime memories,
they are strewn about the floor.
come now! sweet wayfaring soul
make the night be clean
or watch me vanish!
for i am the voice that watches,
the eyes that hear…
and in the evening-tide,
will i come
to brush aside your violet hair
and stare deep into your eyes.
i will make you mine
and adorn you with my mysterious ways
in this fashion we will walk,
vaulting, hand-in-hand
to fast bring forth the brightness
that found us here alone.
wishful of the moment’s
buried vastly beyond our sight

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/16/11

in the end,
seldom we remember.
seldom we climb the stock of dreams.
in the days of storm and light
we are cast about the bubbling ocean,
we navigate by the stars.

when there is no end,
we wonder…
we follow paths unseen,
forging metallic bonds of sorrow
far back from time.

but in the beginning,
you dreamt…
you dreamt in worlds of color,
fate was forgotten
cascading down the face of frozen time.

i met you there,
there in the darkening hollow…
and you whispered, please remember,
remember!
in the end,
there is no end!

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/16/11 (requiem for 12/15/11 a.k.a “lazy day 2”)

burst through a wall of snow!
finding the cold, steel trickle down your neck…
thrust your arms to the sky!
pull down the rainbow-white
the sound of crushing feet rush about you
and the wind makes wicked!
the frost bitten eyes burn red hot
they look down,
and beyond the precipice.
do not fall!
my wasted darling.
you have run from the arms of treachery
now, in circles round you, they clutch!
they pry! and they take from you…
and what is left?
but one blade of grass…
it punctures the light
all else has been stolen
silent silence now
in the wounded night…

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/16/11 (requiem for 12/14/11 a.k.a “lazy day 1”)

I have been slacking again. It is make up time. Here comes three new scribbles!

what dreams may come?
from pastoral touches-
to the waving hands of might…
oh so drowsy now!
the cat whisper tickles
as she purrs mightily.
footsteps not far outside your door
neatly crossing paths with an afternoon sigh.
reach outside!
thrust your hand through the empty window,
grasp for your longing
or fade into the blue-white sorrow
never to return!
the hollow, empty hand
the bitter mournful taste.
oh how they come crashing
a million armies strong.
they burst through your sadness!
inflated with light…

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/13/11

find me in circles,
the harrowing hush…
driven by tide and time.
lost upon this driving river,
clutching to a ringlet of her hair.
that winding red breeze has taken hold of me again.
in the sand and in the softness…
riding high beneath the stone covered sky,
afire with hazy imaginings
the striking features of this faceless place.
alive with the energy of a thousand souls
bridging the gap of eternity.
now the line in the sand has hardened,
the sandy stoneless path revealed
the arching arms aflutter
gasping for air.
a kiss so sweet to remember
forever in the fallen stare.
grab me,
i am at the edge…
eternity lost on no one,
in the twitch of momentary reason,
in the tepid bathing light,
we run for the edge of nothing
gone from captured sight!

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/12/11

come to the soft evening, in dappled light
come to the sound of quickening forces beyond your grasp
wait for the soothing rain…
browse the endless stacks,
turn loose the forgotten pages,
to the fire they must go!
for in the dying green spray…
you are still amongst the clouds
for in the coldest of hearts…
there is but much warmth
long for those pleasant days before
grasp for those shining breaths of exaltation.
soft water promises will not unbreak the sounding
they drink the life of sorrow
forever to remain

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhvari 12/12/11 (in memoriam for 12/11/11, the second day lost)

tears come softly in the unveiled silence,
littering the lines in my face.
the quick storm of sadness has reached me.
once again I fall beneath its spell…
i am bound now, as the moving day forward
head swells and painful memories abound…
the vicious cycle churns
but i must roll out beyond this aching pain,
for the true heart cannot be bound.
i will rise again from the red ash of hate!
i will dream again of the rising!

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/12/11 (in memoriam for 12/10/11, the day lost)

Sorry, I was a delinquent this weekend. Thus, three poems are coming your way today to get me back on schedule

fold me by the lines in the surface cut.
you have been molded to the sweetest form…
twist me from the scrolling vine,
we have been tangled in the mesh.
far, fast and beyond the smoothing surface…
below the frenzied tide
the animation of all that we loved
here stricken by wounded angel wings,
and falling fast among the hush.
hurry and be long gone…
for the breathless heart i have become.
down and with the soft face blush,
streaking tears, her face has fallen…
and now we dive beneath the waves
to search the darkness
through folded lines and molded forms
across the vastness of this empty place
within our hearts, the drowning tears
they sting the face
buried deep in the churning waste

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/9/11