Posts Tagged ‘poetry writer’
6
Jan
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blog, blogger, blogging, cereal, children, coffee, girls, kids, memories, mornings, nostalgia, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry blogger, poetry site, poetry website, poetry writer, poetry writing, red balloons, seasons, soul, the beatles, time, wife, winter, wives, yellow submarine. Leave a comment
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
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26
Oct
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, cell, cold, dance, dancing, delight, dream catcher, fall, falling, feet, immortal, leaves, light, mirror, mirrors, music, night, peotry, poem, poems, poet, poetry blog, poetry blogger, poetry site, poetry website, poetry writer, poetry writing, reflect, reflection, sight, soul, souls, spirit, stories, summer, thought, thoughts, tree, trees, wind, winter, wood, writers blog, writing poetry. Leave a comment
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
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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
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26
Nov
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: carvings, discovery, dreams, evenings, fall, leaves, lost, mornings, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poets, poets blog, prayer, prayers, prisons, stars, totem, totems, whispers, writer, writers blog, writing, writing poetry. Leave a comment
our doors lie open wounded
driven like the dust of papered worlds
a brilliantly tattered totem
so ornately carved in whispers
and on the tips of tongues
upon the tops of pillars
they are but simple prayers
flowing from our lips like vapor
such evidence as we have found
for it was written in the stars
and printed in the papers
it was pressed below our tables
in the hands of mystics and soothsayers
like prisons we possessed them
we trapped their sweetness between layers
and here alone we travel
to our backyard garden swings
the air of smoke so thick and full of dreams
with our hands we try to catch them
so we may discover what remains
but as we hold them in our lungs
they shall take our only breath
for they are faster and they savor
those simple songs that dance in shadow
like broken leaves along the ground
sweetly rustling in the evening
and when our mornings come
we expect to capture them once more
but forever we have lost them
and never again shall they be found
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 11/26/14
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2
May
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: beauty, blog, counting sheep, fireflies, girls, grass, laughter, lights, moon, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poets, secrets, sheep, sky, sleep, spring, stars, summer, the moon, whispers, writer, writing poems, writing poetry. 1 comment
fireflies swim in their oceans of sky
and warm dandelion breaths cast a cottony snow
their thin waxy stems like sweet summer girls
they dance in my yard and all through the world
here in the draft of some beautiful scent
oh how i wonder
where will they go?
their footsteps in summer
violet toes in the grass
and the trickles of laughter
how they drift like a stream
through my ears like windows open
now un-shuttered to reveal
what those whispering lips
and those cool shaded eyes
once did so guardedly conceal
so now i must choose
shall it be the stars or the lights?
i am breathing the wind
and in the evening while i sleep
in my hammock just woven
i will swing from those branches
the ones just out of reach
there on the moon…
by the fence…
counting sheep
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 5/2/14
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18
Apr
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blue, cold, friend, friends, friendship, green, loyalty, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poets, rain, spring, wind. Leave a comment
the cold blue winds of time may shift and carry
but for our friends
in the balance they remain
like a green spring warmth
our canopies in the rain
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 4/18/14
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21
Dec
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: poem, poem blog, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poets, writer, writing. Leave a comment
on the road
and in the ridges
where rain crackles on windshields wide
the dreams of youth form wicked ideas
they are wild and numerous
and they stretch
all in a breath
from sea to shining sea
how are those golden maps
those spinning compass needles
like four corners in the hot new mexican dust
all the fusion and the willful frustrations
all the winters and their warm summer cousins
just a small, delightful sip of wonder
tinged with a taste of pine and smoke
on our beds
and out the windows
a conspiracy of whispers
that so swiftly wander
all through the light
from the deepest wood to the highest mountain top
where are they now?
those slender wristed girls
like magic on a bedroom stage
and all their curls
in their skin so porcelain
just the only thing
simply… the purest thing
that we ever really wanted
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari
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12
Dec
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blog, blogger, love, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry blogger, poetry writer, poets, sadness, writer. Leave a comment
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
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