17
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: age, ages, arduous, arms, become, beyond, blog, breathe, breathing, burn, burning, come, compare, constellations, content, creature, creatures, crushed, dance, dancing, dawn, distance, distant, door, doors, doorways, down, dream, dreams, drive, driven, driving, dust, dusty, emptry, fall, falling, feet, fire, flowers, full, gather, gathering, glance, glancing, glow, golden, grow, hang, hanging, hear, hearing, hours, innocence, join, journey, journeys, lemon, lemons, lips, little, low, lungs, making, meadow, memories, memory, never, new, ocean, one, plucked, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poets, pollen, ponder, ponderous, red, regain, return, road, roads, scatter, scent, scorn, search, searching, sense, sensual, sensuous, skin, small, smell, softly, soul, sound, soundless, speak, splendor, sting, strange, stripped, sweeping, sweet, taste, tasting, things, time, touch, trail, trails, travel, wait, waiting, waking, way, wind, woods, wr, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
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
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11
Apr
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blog, blogger, blogging, born, dancing, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, gorge, green, light, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, red, red river gorge, river, soft, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, touch, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
come from the scored out hills of hazard
on a windy black flake day
scenes of dilapidated sheds occurring
like a roadside history of what never was
twisted scores of metal and rust
and mountain rhyming accents
all in a day’s journey called work
a “best of” playlist sifting from within
oh how familiar comes the sense of song
and driving to return
a requiem for the soul
the smell of days remembered
and trips to these once known hills
the feel of sandstone in my boots
and the taste of sweat upon my tongue
climbing the old indian stairway
and views from a cloud splitter
a warm piece of bread and cheese
a delicacy in those days
the burning hand of a 100 foot rope
and the quick drop into a bed of cooling rhododendron
the smell of fire in the evening
when the wine and whiskey starts to flow
out there…
away from the repetitive crackle of television
only voices and stories to keep the mind
in the river red gorge
i once did dream
the folly of youth
and found myself bounding
on the arches of stone
crossing the bridge natural
and always…
always wanting to return
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 4/1/12
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