19
Sep
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, alone, angel, angels, backyard, birth, blog, blogger, blogging, buried, burn, civilization, colors, couples, creating, cry, dance, dancer, dancing, day, deep, delight, distant, divine, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, dry, eyelashes, eyes, fall, fire, fires, forgotten, frost, gleaming, grass, heart, home, house, lashes, lips, meadow, might, morning, night, one, patterns, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pools, prism, quivering, release, sad, salt, shine, sing, soft, soul, star, starlight, storm, strange, strangers, stream, strolling, tears, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, time, touch, trapped, vision, woman, women, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
words are scattering through a prism
forming colors in the fall air
they bound from lip to ear
cascading down to form glistening pools
soon to be frosted over
trapped and waiting for release
couples are strolling arm in arm
creating patterns in the waning day
they step from house and home
forming lines of chaotic display
soon to be dusty and forgotten
saddened by the coming storm
why come the thoughts of night
intruding with sheer delight
over folds and fires
gleaming in the backyard distant
how come the tears that stream
driven down cheekbones curving
over eyes and lashes
dry now in the salty burn
these little questions run
like deer in the morning meadows
they hide among the splintering grass
alone in the middling heart
tearing at the fabric of civilization
buried deep in the mounding soul
and sometimes comes a woman
a vision sharp as sight
with a voice that sounds of angels
when they cry alone at night
they sing and shine like starlight
bolting arrows with quivering might
and when they reach their target
a piercing so divine
we find that we are no longer strangers
simply born of different times
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 9/19/12
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3
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, baby, backyard, birds, bitter, blacktop, broken, canopy, darkness, day, days, devour, dreaming, dusk, dusty, face, feel, feeling, feet, fingers, fool, gaze, golden, grass, great, hammock, hiding, history, hot, hours, ice, land, light, lonely, loud, lungs, lyrics, memories, mind, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, praise, profound, rain, raindrops, remember, rhymes, rhythms, simmering, singing, sleep, smile, snow, sound, speaking, spirit, steam, stocking, strange, summer, swinging, tickle, touch, truth, waking, weight, window. 2 comments
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
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