Posts Tagged ‘ancient’

“the same infinite sky”

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

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“tiny home”

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

“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

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