3
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, baby, backyard, birds, bitter, blacktop, broken, canopy, darkness, day, days, devour, dreaming, dusk, dusty, face, feel, feeling, feet, fingers, fool, gaze, golden, grass, great, hammock, hiding, history, hot, hours, ice, land, light, lonely, loud, lungs, lyrics, memories, mind, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, praise, profound, rain, raindrops, remember, rhymes, rhythms, simmering, singing, sleep, smile, snow, sound, speaking, spirit, steam, stocking, strange, summer, swinging, tickle, touch, truth, waking, weight, window. 2 comments
i am moved by the weight of sound
and the scent of steaming raindrops
as they course over the bitter blacktop
lungs filled with hot summer air
my mind simmering like the day
and i touch the broken grass
it tickles my stocking feet
while i gaze into the canopy
birds are speaking loudly
they want me to hear
for their lyrics are profound
where will they be
when comes the snow and ice
in some great distant land
singing praises there
i am stirred by the shifting light of dusk
it makes of me a fool
hiding truth amidst the darkness
what strange sounds come now
in backyards
outside the dusty window panes
and i touch the stained glass
its texture feels my fingers
tracing out all the history
that has passed through in colored light
so make for me this bed
for in sleep i shall remember
what comes in days and hours
forming rhymes and rhythms
swinging in the dreaming hammock
and waking to devour
i am lifted by this spirit
so lonely in the darkness
i have fallen from my perch
feeling momentary sadness
but when i see her face
her golden baby smile
i take her out to see the birds
perhaps she can translate for awhile
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/3/12
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19
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: blog, blogger, blogging, born, dancing, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, green, inspiration, June, light, ocean, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pray, rhymes, secret, soft, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, touch, whisper, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
you have to fight for the yard-long miles
like the wind in the cross-long fallows
alight with the fire of folded magic
tendering your sweet resignations
like fingerprints that smudge a cloudless sky
for we are the lost ones weary
come from an ocean of stolen devotions
circling and diving we pray
the melting wax of vintage candles
forming a sidewalk, nighttime display
they tell a sweet secret story
born in the june of the day
paid for like the rhymes of an hour
in this spreading motion at play
but there will always be something
breathless and lost in the wanting
it is found in the heart as it matters
a little whisper that swallows
and when it comes up for air
from the pillowed window frame seat
it will look to capture the moment
proud of the bounty
that lays at your feet
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/19/12
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