Posts Tagged ‘homes’
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
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6
Dec
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: afghan, afternoon, air, apples, blog, blogger, blogging, born, cars, cold, dance, dancer, dancing, darkness, delight, doors, doorways, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, dust, embrace, emptiness, face, fire, follow, footsteps, foreign, forgotten, fragrant, fraying, golden, grass, great, green, happy, heirloom, homes, lay, light, lovers, memory, metal, moisture, one, orange, outdoors, outside, painting, peacful. siren, pictures, plain, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, reconcile, rest, ring, rust, safey, shadows, smell, smoke, soft, soldiers, song, swoon, syrian, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, thresholds, tickles, time, touch, walking, warm, wash, wind, wonder, wondering, write, writer, writing, yarn, yearning, zest. Leave a comment
the wind tickles my face
like the fraying strands of yarn
from an old afghan heirloom
distant songs wash over me
they still ring in my ears
like a peaceful muted siren
and the smell of orange zest
lingers fragrant and happy
foot soldiers come out of the light
covered in syrian dust
such strange things we reconcile
as we lay resting
on couches in the afternoon’s golden swoon
they follow
like shadows on the grass
as we pass from our doorways
to the great emptiness outdoors
walking and wondering
with footsteps in time
the cold smell of moisture in the air
and the green rust of sculpted metal
painting pictures in our canvassed memory
further now in cars
as the smells turn from warm apples to smoke
the safety of our homes long forgotten
wheels bouncing along the concrete plain
they bring us through doors
through differing thresholds
and in those rooms of foreign delight
where fire lifts the darkness
we seek warm embrace
to make sense of it all
in the arms of our lovers
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/6/12
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16
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: alone, always, apart, art, beds, blog, borders, born, boundaries, breathless, cold, conventions, dancing, dark, emptiness, envy, eyes, fields, forever, green, hands, hearts, homes, laugh, laughing, light, lingering, love, lying, narrow, oceans, one, order, outside, poem, poems, poetry, poets, right, sadness, sight, soft, stolen, touch, touching, warm, watching, whispers, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
what is the art of sadness?
of cold hearts
on cold beds
dark oceans apart
alone in the lingering
in the dancing shafts of light
crossing borders and boundaries
stolen from our sight
think of these short whispers
of warm hands touching
outside the yearning
without conventions
in fields far crossed
green with envy
like soft homes
born of the narrows
ordered and right
and the laughing
the lying
the breathlessness
forever
always
holding on to this
forever
it’s always
the emptiness
and when her eyes were watching me
the sadness
for you are the only
the only
the one
Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/16/12
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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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