Posts Tagged ‘hours’

“clocks”

minutes flow like the sun
for they come and go
like old roommates they reside in the summer heat
and pass slowly from winter’s memory
they live in wooden boxes
and hang from slender wrists
a gentle, tickling reminder to us all
their arms raised to the edges
pointing outward at the void
and yet they revolve diligently
ever fixed in your mortality
such is the symmetry of life
from such humble beginnings they have grown
and now they glow in blinding illumination
scattered among the desktops and window boxes of this world
there are many places that they call home
folded neatly on display
napping in your bedside table

oh how sweet this sounds
my ode to time
in all its varied pieces
but you too also know
what here I have not said
this is the truth
I only wish
with a longing so profound
to cast them all from my existence
for the seconds that they steal
let me be without them
so that forever i may roam
in this place but not in line
i shall cast away the hours
and the tombs in which they live
born again to freedom
no longer in the grasp of clutching hands

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/22/13

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“on the trail of dreams”

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

“baby and birds”

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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