13
Mar
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: all, alone, always, carve, carved, change, creature, creatures, day, dream, ears, end, fever, fingers, fireflies, firefly, flowers, forever, future, gentle, glitter, glittering, harp, hold, impulse, impulses, kaleidoscope, little, memories, memory, millions, never, page, pages, petals, pine, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, rain, rest, secret, secrets, see, sky, smoke, sound, sounds, spiral, spring, static, string, summer, sweet, take, the end, tickle, toes, winter, wood, words, write, writer, writing, yawn. Leave a comment
a kaleidoscope of winter petals
glittering in the sky
dashing gently all about
in the grasp of this sideways driving rain
but the pines are simply resting
always… never changing
fires burn in the not so distant future
like a wood-smoke fever dream
sounds spiral down your ears
like fingers that tickle a harp string
little static impulses begin to take hold
the children of the trees ripen in the loamy ground
just below the flight of future summer fireflies
while sweet little creatures arch and yawn
a million smallish toes that dip into the day
these are the words of spring
the notes to sing and say
for they are carved upon the face of secret pages
they stand alone for all to see
and when comes the end
and then another
all that will matter
is what was pressed into your memory
beneath, behind
and in between…
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 3/13/13
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6
Dec
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: afghan, afternoon, air, apples, blog, blogger, blogging, born, cars, cold, dance, dancer, dancing, darkness, delight, doors, doorways, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, dust, embrace, emptiness, face, fire, follow, footsteps, foreign, forgotten, fragrant, fraying, golden, grass, great, green, happy, heirloom, homes, lay, light, lovers, memory, metal, moisture, one, orange, outdoors, outside, painting, peacful. siren, pictures, plain, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, reconcile, rest, ring, rust, safey, shadows, smell, smoke, soft, soldiers, song, swoon, syrian, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, thresholds, tickles, time, touch, walking, warm, wash, wind, wonder, wondering, write, writer, writing, yarn, yearning, zest. Leave a comment
the wind tickles my face
like the fraying strands of yarn
from an old afghan heirloom
distant songs wash over me
they still ring in my ears
like a peaceful muted siren
and the smell of orange zest
lingers fragrant and happy
foot soldiers come out of the light
covered in syrian dust
such strange things we reconcile
as we lay resting
on couches in the afternoon’s golden swoon
they follow
like shadows on the grass
as we pass from our doorways
to the great emptiness outdoors
walking and wondering
with footsteps in time
the cold smell of moisture in the air
and the green rust of sculpted metal
painting pictures in our canvassed memory
further now in cars
as the smells turn from warm apples to smoke
the safety of our homes long forgotten
wheels bouncing along the concrete plain
they bring us through doors
through differing thresholds
and in those rooms of foreign delight
where fire lifts the darkness
we seek warm embrace
to make sense of it all
in the arms of our lovers
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 12/6/12
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