Posts Tagged ‘feet’
26
Oct
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, cell, cold, dance, dancing, delight, dream catcher, fall, falling, feet, immortal, leaves, light, mirror, mirrors, music, night, peotry, poem, poems, poet, poetry blog, poetry blogger, poetry site, poetry website, poetry writer, poetry writing, reflect, reflection, sight, soul, souls, spirit, stories, summer, thought, thoughts, tree, trees, wind, winter, wood, writers blog, writing poetry. Leave a comment
cold words fall like a drafty afterthought
the dream catcher leaves have arrived
our woods retain sudden memories of warmth
there is a new kind of music that swirls in our driveways
and a familiar sort of dance
it is one for the trees
and for their dearly departed souls
they crumble and drift
they rattle and hum
a trillion cells immortal
gone to live beneath our feet
and oh how we breathe
our hearts in repose
we have sanctioned their coming
though such memories are but on loan
they have triggered our senses
those first to be found
now surrendering forever
for in the winter they will have gone
but i shall be your ghosted firefly
your remnants of summer
and in the evening your pumpkins
so lovingly carved out of light
i will smile from doorways open
and walk your sugary streets
for i have been in such worlds
i have tasted those treats
but while we are here
in a place…
so strangely familiar
perhaps we should ask…
what words have you seen falling?
are you such a catcher of dreams?
we must ponder how they answer
those warm wooden trees
it is not enough to simply listen
to hear their songs in the night
we must wonder why they tremble
so cold with delight
as if their notes were softly telling
this story of the night
or should we wonder?
have we missed something greater…
perhaps just this season
our earthly prayers bathed in light
or a symbol freshly shattered
a reflective mirror
for those without sight
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 10/26/16
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17
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: age, ages, arduous, arms, become, beyond, blog, breathe, breathing, burn, burning, come, compare, constellations, content, creature, creatures, crushed, dance, dancing, dawn, distance, distant, door, doors, doorways, down, dream, dreams, drive, driven, driving, dust, dusty, emptry, fall, falling, feet, fire, flowers, full, gather, gathering, glance, glancing, glow, golden, grow, hang, hanging, hear, hearing, hours, innocence, join, journey, journeys, lemon, lemons, lips, little, low, lungs, making, meadow, memories, memory, never, new, ocean, one, plucked, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poets, pollen, ponder, ponderous, red, regain, return, road, roads, scatter, scent, scorn, search, searching, sense, sensual, sensuous, skin, small, smell, softly, soul, sound, soundless, speak, splendor, sting, strange, stripped, sweeping, sweet, taste, tasting, things, time, touch, trail, trails, travel, wait, waiting, waking, way, wind, woods, wr, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
all the dust
like little dream makers
softly falling on your skin
you breathe them in
a lung full of memories
yearning in low sweeping passes
touched by the splendor
what arduous journeys now press upon your soul
you search the empty trail
hearing foot falls in the distance glow
the scent of the gathering grows
content now in what you sense
your small feet catching pollen
stripped from the crushed meadow flowers
for this way have you come
never to return the waking hours
never to become the ponderous one
falling from the scorn of golden ages
appearing in doorways
hanging on the arms of innocence
you that travel on sensuous roads
waiting for the tasting of something new
something beyond compare
like sweet lemons plucked from a constellation
stinging red lips
a burning ocean of wind
driven by the soundless fire
making your way
down through the woods
full of strange creatures glancing
you speak to them
you join them
and now you are dancing
so let them partake
of your dreams small and dusty
for when the dawn comes
all things will scatter
and you must regain the trail
and the searching
for this is what matters!
Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/17/12
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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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2
Jul
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: acacia, beginning, blog, blogger, blogging, born, breakfast, celestial, dancing, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, dust, enlightenment, fairies, feet, garden, ghosts, girls, gleaming, gliitering, green, heart, hearth, homes, light, lonely, lovers, morning, night, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, scones, sea, soft, summer, sunlight, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, touch, trains, window, wishes, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
cold trains
viewed from the breakfast window
they slide by
fluttering like old nitrate film
burning gardens in their passing
stirring up dust
trapped in a gleaming shaft of sunlight
it is what we see
only the edge of enlightenment
only the lonely fragments of truth
captured like so many wishes
in a bottle
set out to sea
and the lines of clothing
set out to dry
they are ghosts in the arbor
sugar plum fairies in the wood
and summer girls
in their summer dresses
taking strolls on the glittering pavement
while the acacia smiles
and black eyed susan
she gives a knowing wink
back now
to the eyes of morning
sifting through the newsprint
flour spinning off the rolling pin
pressing out scones in the old clay oven
a character belting out lines from the summer stage
soon blankets will lay like carpet
suffocating the manicured lawn
and we will come from our homes
and from our cool ash hearths
for the season so invites
the atmosphere filled with dashing attire
bowties and stocking feet abound
they settle in
for the long night is coming
and with the strumming
the celestial heart dips slowly out of sight
calming the little ones
it marks the ending of the day
for when this chapter closes
with lovers pulling tight
we will seek a new beginning
in the morning sunday light
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 7/2/12
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20
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: artifacts, azure, birds, blog, blogger, blogging, born, circles, coffee, conversation, dancing, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, feet, flags, fountain, fruit, green, heart, home, kiss, land, light, lips, markets, moors, mud, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, silence, sky, soft, spice, spirit, steam, summer, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, touch, world, write, writer, writing, yearning, yellow. Leave a comment
fleet of foot
on wide slanted lines
precious little artifacts
hidden in the moorish design
glistening azure tiles to the sky
white hot roof tops
and spice market flags
they shift and flap
high above the mud walls
and the summer fountain yards
beads turn over clutched hands
nimbly building prayers of glass
shattering spirited worlds
affecting far removed hearts
away in the fields of some distant land
and there, among the banyan trees
shade grows long with the day
turning and pressing the jam scented fruit
soon to be on its way
to coffee houses filled with steam
a taste between conversations
and the words they carry home
will fit like the scabbard blade
passing between lips
unknown they will digest
with a passing sleight of hand
a forehead kiss goodnight
the dreamers will have dreamed
they will awake
to mornings yellow light
hearing the sounds of silence
and the birds aloft in flight
crossing endless landscapes
around and round they go
always back to where they started
but they do not even know
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/20/12
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