Posts Tagged ‘poetry blogger’

“simple, scattered lines”

it’s a yellow submarine morning

colder than the eyes of some forbidden danger

a spark of light by the curtains glow


red balloons across the sky

they have come to take me on


no more black birds singing in the darkest night

we have come to another day in the life


thinking back, i remember just now

our fires burning such a deepest cavern in the snow

our conversations like journeys flown


i hear now what percolates

in yonder distant rooms

filled with wives and children

with cereal and spoons


and to a desk with pen and ink

to strike the sounds of thought

to ponder and to think


i become the soul of time

crafting a digital word-spun rhyme


and as i look upon these lines

and across the clutter that has grown like vines

i think of drawers and shelves and pockets

placing such secrets softly

on a page of light and time


and perhaps one year from now

when the cold and white does shine

i will remember why i wrote these

such simple, scattered lines


then they will bring me back

to a moment, place and time

and I will think of winter

so beautiful, so cruel

so measured, so divine

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/6/18



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


sadness comes like a swollen stream

buried in your bones

well-worn and woven

imbedded in your very soul

like elements scattered in the dust of coal

and those shadows that flash

just behind the bedroom changing screens

they are but pencil sketches

cold in the dark of  winter’s night


oh how you come for me

with sugared words and salty skin

for i am tangled in your twisted fire

and in all your barbs and all your wires

they run through me

so soft and so violent


and you are there

just beyond the clouds of white

my every move so simply measured

scaled to the inch and to the mile

your clutching hands growing ever nearer

i can almost feel your touch


and so when you have me

in your dark and dreary ways

will you at least love me?

or will you simply turn

and slowly walk away…


-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/12/13


“beyond the flooded, folding fields”

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

%d bloggers like this: