Posts Tagged ‘poetry blogger’

27 Jun

“a chair inside my heart”

Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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

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6 Jan

“simple, scattered lines”

Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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

across the clutter, 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

simple, scattered lines

 

they will bring me back

to a moment, a place, a time

and I will think of winter

so beautiful, so cruel

so measured, so divine

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/6/18

26 Oct

“falloween”

Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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

12 Dec

“12/12”

Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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

3 Dec

“beyond the flooded, folding fields”

Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , .

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

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