Posts Tagged ‘dreams’
25
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: baroque, barriers, bees, consciousness, dreams, eternity, forever, harpsichord, honey, lost, metronome, mystique, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, senses, sight, sound, vision, walls, wander, wonder, writer, writing. Leave a comment
i wonder what the sounds of time have seen
as they crawled over ridge tops
down towards those ravines
like orchards they have sprung
and from their branches came leaves
such a fruitful mystique
a harpsichord drama
a baroque woman’s dream
they were dressed in the harshness
that of storms, that of steam
but now they are gone
like bees from a hive
for i only see the shadows
of their honey-whispered teams
a metronome, i must now become
the keeper of time
a brush on the drum
i will call from this window
over mountains and miles
i will tear down those walls
and reveal those sweet smiles
for i am the sound
and the sights i have seen
i am the one that wanders
forever lost,
in this dream…
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari
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27
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, amazement, coffee, dream, dreams, heart, love, picture, poem, poems, poet, poetic, poetry, poetry blog, poetry blogger, relationship, relationships, see, sight, silence, silent, unbroken, unbroken chain, vast, wind, wonder, wonderful, world. Leave a comment
i have seen her bathing
in a swell of mountain sweat
her curls singed by miles
the smell of oak on a fiery wind
and yet so soft does she remain
a sculptured form in cotton
a sugary whisp of air so gently stumbling
my eyes are widened with amazement
a dusting of cinnamon upon my coffee-stained lips
this powdered world from which i see
toes and eye lashes and all those wonderful things
a foot in leathered straps
over rocks and moss and oceans
big blue dreams are cascading
the streets are filled with stars
all of them are falling
wishing they were yours
but none have come to know you
the way you take your toast in the morning
on a chair inside my heart
and so there it is
on a perch so gently nestled
between my ribs and near my throat
a home that you have found
a smallness by the river
a distant trickling sound
but even should it grow silent
the colors still remain
those that paint the picture
of this vast, unbroken chain
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/27/18
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10
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: ancient, bride, dreaming, dreams, enchanting, hunger, infinity, June, light, love, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, pollinators, roman, sky, sleep, summer, summer love, sunflowers, water. Leave a comment
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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10
Dec
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: ancient, antique, antiques, battle, battles, children, daughter, daughters, death, dream, dreams, embrace, fabric, families, family, father, fathers, flag, flags, form, forms, heart, hearts, husband, husbands, love poem, love poems, mother, mothers, poem, poem about love, poem blog, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poetry writing, poets, poets blog, possession, possessions, son, sons, soul, souls, stranger, strangers, the small things, tiny home, tiny homes, tiny house, tiny houses, travel, travelers, urban sprawl, war, warmth, wife, wives. Leave a comment
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
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26
Nov
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: carvings, discovery, dreams, evenings, fall, leaves, lost, mornings, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poets, poets blog, prayer, prayers, prisons, stars, totem, totems, whispers, writer, writers blog, writing, writing poetry. Leave a comment
our doors lie open wounded
driven like the dust of papered worlds
a brilliantly tattered totem
so ornately carved in whispers
and on the tips of tongues
upon the tops of pillars
they are but simple prayers
flowing from our lips like vapor
such evidence as we have found
for it was written in the stars
and printed in the papers
it was pressed below our tables
in the hands of mystics and soothsayers
like prisons we possessed them
we trapped their sweetness between layers
and here alone we travel
to our backyard garden swings
the air of smoke so thick and full of dreams
with our hands we try to catch them
so we may discover what remains
but as we hold them in our lungs
they shall take our only breath
for they are faster and they savor
those simple songs that dance in shadow
like broken leaves along the ground
sweetly rustling in the evening
and when our mornings come
we expect to capture them once more
but forever we have lost them
and never again shall they be found
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 11/26/14
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25
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: childhood, dreams, georgia, home, ocean, poem, poem blog, poems, poems blog, poet, poet blog, poetry, poetry blog, poets, poets blog, sea, sky, sun, vacation, write, writer, writers blog, writing. Leave a comment
red ant fires smolder in the georgia dust
and the droning sound of pollinators
it trickles through the air
like summer balloons on an evening sky
the old orchards have fallen to decay
the fruit is bitter and flush with the taste of sin
there are gravestones that stretch in glimmering white
so plainly beautiful and bursting with emotion
it all unfolds like a dreamscape
childhood vacations etched in memory
and all along the coast
among the grass and swaying palms
the sand is built of castles
we are kings upon our thrones
but the sodden wheels of time
they have drenched our dreaming wheels
for now we talk when once we tumbled
and pray when once we slept
we have been cast out from our ocean
our toes beneath the foam
and we wonder why this happened
how we came to know this home
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/25/14
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3
Dec
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blogger, dreams, laughter, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry blogger, poets, sadness, write, writer. Leave a comment
snowflowers swirl and spin in the grey of swollen spheres
and this could be the saddest world we’ve ever seen
here… the folding fields are flooded
an armada stuck fast to the frozen sky
the searchlights blast through the hilly fog
just near this warm enchanting place
just inside the old stores
among the smoke and mirrors
the cards of tarot lay scattered among the decking
like ancient stones torn across a sea of invisibility
where soft silhouettes toast the spanish sky
their shirts like sails in a violent wind
they dance like lights in the christmas wild
for this may be the only way they’ve ever known
and I am here…
among the fierce and downtrodden
and we all shall rise!
like holy rosaries in the morning mist
til the holes in our hearts are mended and woven
for this shall not be our final resting place
we will follow the signs that tell of paths
beyond the flooded, folding fields
our shy wiry eyes will glisten once more
and just there beyond the spray
where the dark golden water falls
we will breathe the cool, sweet wind
and fill our lungs with laughter
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/2/13
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26
Mar
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: dream, dreamers, dreaming, dreams, heart, hearts, love, lovers, loving, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, relationship, relationships, spring, stars. Leave a comment
she is waiting at your doorway
with all the colors in her hair
and all her bracelets tangled
taking steps
ever so slightly forward
dizzy in the rarified air
two little creatures bracing
unsteadied by the cobbles and stones
what wild nights await you
here in the lights and the snow
daydreaming like daisies
without petals
in the early spring glow
seeking out the smallest of ironies
tuned like a bow
drawn across the strings of your heart
in a swift, radiating glance
eyes like lenses of rapture
invested in a world without features
a cold and whisper-less expanse
known only to lovers
alone on their islands
dreaming in time that drifts like the sand
moving together like water
as tiny drops that glisten and burst
lost forever in the darkness
in the strangeness of this verse
and when you remember
how she saw you that night
on the steps
in the starlight
you will make her a promise
cool, solemn and sincere
that you shall always be together
in the depths of the far
for love’s weighted anchor
is buried deep in your breast
like a song surviving centuries
filled with words true and simple
and of limitless tone
a life lived together
whether in sweetness or bitter
will always be greater
than a life lived alone
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 3/25/13
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11
Mar
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blog, blogger, blogging, born, dance, dancer, dancing, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, green, light, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, soft, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, touch, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
you come for me on modern winds
like the dotted foals of spring
prettier in your emerald blouse
than ever i have seen
livelier than a mountain willow
dressed in flowers
colorful and waiting
here in this water-soaked world
longing for the sweet ring
your head spinning like a top
only a few drops more of this
your tincture of ginseng
falling over your lips
in these hours of sand
your hands reaching through doors
forever revolving
you only know of this night
not the next or its morning
and with your voice soundless
a chattering echo
we brush past each other
on the paths of this hollow
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 3/11/13
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22
Feb
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, angels, beach, beaches, bells, blog, blogger, blogging, born, breath, breathe, breathing, cape, cove, dance, dancer, dancing, dark, division, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, dust, envy, field, fields, forgotten, frost, grass, green, halls, light, linger, lingering, longing, mingle, numbers, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pollen, resting, shelter, soft, theater, theaters, theatre, theatres, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, tomb, touch, voice, voices, wall, walls, white, wind, winter, wood, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
pollen lingers in the air
like the dust of angels
resting on a field of forgotten numbers
born of long division remainders
in a tomb of winter bells
no longer sounding
we are far from frosted white beaches
far from the capes and coves that shelter
here is where the voices mingle
in the windless halls and old theatres
just outside the walls of braided grass
green with envy
alone in the darkest wood
and breathing…
just breathing
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 2/22/13
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