Posts Tagged ‘heart’
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
3
Mar
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: acre, acres, air, alive, alone, angel, angels, bliss, boats, bright, cake, cars, carve, cheeks, child, children, clouds, confections, craft, crafted, creature, creatures, crown, dawn, distance, distant, farms, food, gentle, glass, glistening, gold, grass, grow, heart, hearts, hills, home, homes, horizon, land, laugh, laughter, leaving, live, might, morning, nectar, orange, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pollen, restless, rust, rusting, search, searching, shadows, sing, singing, sleep, sleeping, song, speak, spirit, spirits, static, steam, stone, summer, sun, sway, sweat, sweet, sweetness, swell, swim, swimming, swoon, vision, visions, wand, wands, warmth, water, weep, wood. Leave a comment
cars on the water
swimming in a glass
half-full of morning laughter
and the tire-irons rusting
like restless creatures
tall in the grass and singing
like wands in the woodshop carving
and crowns that lay alone sleeping
they wait for spirits and the leaving
while the boats on land are steaming
there they search for the horizon bleeding
orange and gold and glistening
we are the shadows that grow in that distance
and the mighty clouds that weep
we are the static in the air
and the hearts that swell and swoon
we sweat and sway
our cheeks they gently brush
for we are the pollen and the nectar
our sweet confections crafted
of angels, food and cake
and when we speak of visions
in the straining hour of dawn
we think upon the hillside
looking down over the hills and farms
and we know of the children waking
and the bliss of beds and homes
we think then of the warming
when comes the sun this morning?
a disc alive and bright
we move swiftly through the acres
through the channels carved in stone
wishing only for this moment
one more summer here alone…
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 3/3/13
Like this:
Like Loading...
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
2
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: ages, ancient, angel, ball, beauty, bedside, city, curls, daisy, darkness, dawn, distant, doorstep, dreams, elegance, empty, european, filters, flowers, form, gone, hands, heart, her, lace, lifetime, light, lips, longing, love, loving, mirror, movement, needle, nothing, ocean, pillow, place, poem, poems, poet, poetry, pressure, purring, return, shadow, sight, soft, song, speak, spring, squares, stillness, strike, string, sweet, sweetness, taste, tonight, towers, universi, unworthy, void, want, warm, waterfalls, wind, words, wound, yearning, yellow. 2 comments
“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
Like this:
Like Loading...
2
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: ark, brides, burning, califi, cars, cities, cool, daugther, days, deep, delight, dim, dreams, evenings, eys, fabric, feelings, flame, flight, fog, forever, heart, ideas, kisses, laughter, leaving, love, marshamallow, memories, misty, moments, mother, mountains, night, poem, poet, poetry, river, sadness, secret, share, sister, sound, star, summer, sweet, tears, time, together, trails, travel, vineyard, whispers, wind. 1 comment
california calls me
like a hot summer winded flame
burning in the nearing draw
what a host of cool mounting feelings
and sweet warm memories
there in the misty mountains
on the afternoon of trails
winding through kaleidoscope hills
with little green whispers tickling my ear
small fast cars
and dreamy smoke filled canyons
mothers sisters daughters
lovely brides
in marshmallow white dresses
hot dusty vineyards burning
in a storm of dry white-air kisses
laughter and tears
and long drives from the city
a mind full of ideas
dreams breathing
sorrowful eyes sweating
all these things come and go
they have been
and will forever be
a fabric woven deep
in the heart of circumstance
and when the wheels touch down
and when the fog of flight grows dim
we will emerge from this ark of travel
to embrace the ones we love
with cheeks and kisses
hearts and flutters
a week to spend
made of days and evenings
wondering with delight
never wanting to know of leaving
nor of sadness
nor of night
for we have come from far flung places
and known these ways before
they are locked up in secret spaces
like a river flowing sound
and as we dive to the depths of wonder
with laughter at our side
once more we will be together
under stars that throb and bind
with nothing left but forever
these sweet simple moments alive
oh how we share each other
in these moments of passing time
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/2/12
Like this:
Like Loading...
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
26
Jan
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: age, ageless, air, alone, angel, angels, author, babies, baby, bird, birds, birth, blaze, blazing, blog, blogger, blogging, born, brother, child, children, circle, circles, circular, cloud, clouds, cold, crazy, creation, cry, crying, dad, dance, dancing, dark, darkness, daughter, day, desert, deserts, distance, distant, dreams, dust, edge, emotion, emotions, essence, eternity, evening, father, flew, flight, flown, flying, force, forest, forget, forgotten, garden, gardens, green, guilt, happiness, happy, hard, heart, ice, innocence, innocent, inside, iron, journey, journeying, kiss, kissing, laughing, laughter, light, lonely, lonesome, loss, lost, love, lovers, loving, luscious, memories, memory, mist, misty, mom, moon, morning, mother, mountain, mountains, night, ocean, oceans, one, outside, picture, pictures, planets, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pray, prayer, praying, promise, promises, rain, raining, rains, remember, remembering, remembrance, rhythm, rhythms, river, rivers, sad, sadness, sand, sands, sea, seas, shadows, sharp, shine, silence, silent, singing, sister, skies, sky, smile, smiles, smiling, soft, son, song, soul, soulmate, souls, space, star, stars, storm, storming, storms, streams, sun, surprise, surprises, surprising, sweet, sweetness, swift, tear, tears, think, thinking, though, thought, thoughts, torrent, touch, toys, travel, traveling, tremble, trembling, universal, universe, vine, vines, warm, water, wild, wilderness, wind, wine, winery, wonder, wondering, wonders, words, wordsmith, write, writing, yearning, young, youth. 1 comment
in the falling season
trees scatter their lost children about the ground
they form road-side memorials that dress the streets
there final days spent in shades of blood and turmeric
as winter takes its grip on land and shore
they frost and crumble like morning scones at your bedside
the seasons flow on like some western surveyor
and we feel the chill of northern lights upon us
together we sip pinot in the evening glow of muted lamps
a bundle of threadbare blankets stashed safely in the wardrobe
tales of old are spun like so much yarn on your grandmother’s lap
and together we come to part the sorrows
grey days seem a continuum
darkness falls early and slow slumber awaits
but we welcome her
our spring darling beauty
dressed in alpine meadow colors
and we venture to the sea for relief
the salt spray and southern breezes make us whole again
around the table gathering conversation grows
and leaves are born again to mothering oaks
we raise our glasses high
and scrape the splinters from our fresh broken chop sticks
this evening will bring dinner and talk of travels
summer awaits in all her glory
for we are her progeny
and she
our savior
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/26/12
Like this:
Like Loading...
poems365dotcom 