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far from the ebb and flow
a little thought resides
drawing angles and lines
mapping out the days to come
and transforming reality
on warm couches
wrapped in luxury
insides are turned out
they reveal morning wishes
placed on old newsprint
poetry flows like spilled coffee
on the morning’s breakfast table
eggs are sunny-side up
and warm bread touches cracked lips
mothers tug lids from jars of jam
raspberry and marmalade streaks your plate
doors are flung wide open to reveal the dawn
still the color of aching blue violets
you rush to meet your day’s beginning
stumbling in the widening light
you pass familiar strangers
grunting all the while
bicycles and scooters pass you by
and up the stairs you go
to find your daily perch
a sad collection of long faces
no greeting therein contained
they fill you with disdain
reaching for your seat
you start to wonder why
the god’s of anger hold you
drifting in despair
you wish to find new visions
shared in solemn grace
and walk back home with intentions
to change the maddening place

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 2/8/12

wild sundays swing on crescent moon tips
herbs scent the english country gardens
and tea pours from hot caldrons
to meet the lips of joyous children at play
lawns carpet the growing expanse of imagination
immortal coils bound on pleasant cobblestone streets
these are the scenes that flash across the stage
curtains rise to reveal spinning dancers
dressed in flaming white tunics
all the while a great caravan crosses the gypsum dunes
water flows from the taps of a billion prairie homesteads
and sweet dates are harvested from desert palms
oh the imagination!
it carries us on high like so many puffs of whispy air
visions come like stolen marbles from streetside games
helium voices fill a rainbow
golden rain pummels the dusty plains
trickling down through cracks and fissures
pumping life-blood to the starving corn
giant sunflowers face the sun as if waiting to be kissed
and all these dreamy thoughts course like river fingers
dampening the delta grass
quenching the tongues of great orators
and filling glasses with the sweet nectar of fallen petals
what can these wild imaginings mean?
they course through my mind
creating magical tapestries
and send me tumbling down green hillsides
i must stop now!
and think…
what will be in days to come
dreams?
illusions…
or just the advance of sun-chasing shadows
but what does it matter now
i am here amongst starlets and maidens of youth
and where else should i be?
for my head is my home
my heart is my chariot
and i will not march quietly away
but stand and deliver
conjuring new visions of grandeur
and waiting…
for this day may never come again!

great steel arches span raging rivers
while we cross the great plains of our desire
shadows fall and lift again to reveal dreamy notions
this is the age of uncertainty
we are bound by wireless tethers
breathing out coded messages across hidden landscapes
books of love and mystery grow dusty under this powerful spell
incandescent lights trade their souls for sunny days
but remember years gone by
when lipstick kisses filled secret letters
we would roam the halls
and windswept beaches
searching for cherished moments of joy
you have felt the loss of breath
climbing wrought iron staircases
that twist toward the sheltering sky
flowers grow and form
like fingers at work sculpting river clay
smiles dapple the forest floor
revealing trails of intimate desire
that run like so many arteries
through the limbs of towering trees
they glow like a phosphorescent night bath
leaving traces of time
scattered like chance offerings
that glow and shift
in a translucent alabaster shrine
this is the work of soft hands
and swollen hearts
this is the changing tide of wisdom
struck out like a vibrant chord
across the breast of human desire
and when it finds a home
it captures all the remnants of stone and feather
and we remain
standing waist high in a lake of emotion
sipping laughter from a well of tears

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 2/7/12

oh sweet bird of sorrow!
sing to me from your woven perch
you fill the golden air with lofty sonnets
expressing the joy of sentient beings
i am the mirror
and the chord of vibration in your world
i will climb mountains of loss
and stumble through valleys of fire
to find the sweet scent you have left behind
my arms reach for the high thermals that carry you aloft
words ring out in atmospheric waves
and backyard chimes mimic you on windy days
i swaddle you in bubble wrap and keep you safe
fear never wins the day in your presence
you are the daughter of might!
you carry us away on mended wings
a feathering whisper grows to seek you out
even in the dark of ages your bright vision shines
glaciers melt at a flapping of your visage
time stands still while you assault the mansions of men
delivering messages scribbled on egyptian papyrus
i will always find you there
in the shade of the pyramids
perched on a soul-less tomb
sipping from the banks of the nile
you are the sweet and fair maiden of love
and when you are gone
may we all dissolve back into the sea
for a world without you
in the end
can never
ever
be…

the force of love rolls down holy mountain sides
blanketing mothers and daughters
their faces glow like old world gas lamps
soft drops of rain fall like splashes of sugar
and bright red baby lips form and pucker
in the span of time all will taste such sweetness
but it can only be known by the strain of tests
the bite of a bitter lime born of an ottoman dungeon
the litter of decaying rose petals on a threshold
we must feel the pain of tortured sorrows
and taste the ash of fallen glories
from these years of trial and growth
family is born
friends are gathered under the flag of loyalty
and we make pilgrimage to the holy cities of man
in those shrines
in the sunlight
and in the darkeness
we hear a chanting in the distance
a song older than memory
it burns through the ages
and lifts the soul on high
the hot sun of acre beams in splendor
the travelers are drenched with sweat
we are gathering on hallowed ground
warmed by the footsteps of pilgrims
enveloped by the rugs of persia
and in this place we see the banner of victory unfurled
our hearts open safe
and all the joy of a thousand centuries rushes through our veins

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 2/1/12

Beautiful and healthy Adelaide Mae Parwaneh Akhtarekhavari was born on Monday, January 30th at 10:52am. This is our first baby so sleep has been limited and time to write poetry even more limited so please forgive me for the lack of new poems the last few days. New poetry is on the way, hopefully tonight or tomorrow so don’t forget to keep checking in on my blog.
Thanks to everyone who has visited the blog and taken time to read my poetry. It means a great deal to me!