Posts Tagged ‘sky’

“the same infinite sky”

colors fade like arches settled in roman dust

water drips from the old copper-green faucet

all the while… our diesel fed sunflowers grow

their faces splintered by hungry pollinators

round as the sun in their creamy, yellow brightness


they were but a strange, enchanting sight

dressed in fastidious rows

a gorgeous bowtie on the edge of this world


the bicycles were racked and rusted

locked and resting

waiting to be unleashed

their pedals just astride

perhaps in just a moment

a glorious, professorial ambassador shall arrive


but just down the steps

she waited…

like the text of an ancient manuscript

her thoughts hidden deep inside


oh how she provokes me

her yellow dress, her lovely stride

just like summer come early

a dreamy june-bug bride


i think that i shall catch her

and save her light in a jar inside

by my bedside i will keep her

she will permeate my dreams

as she sleeps so nearly by


such is my flight of fancy

like writing in the sky


and one day i will find her

on a sidewalk passing by

together we will walk as strangers

two separate lights

born of the same infinite sky


-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/10/17


“little swallow”

little swallow

on your lofty perch

what do you see up there so high

twittering away on the evening sky


is it the stars so bathed in light

or the people

with their hopes and dreams and fears


i wonder what you find amazing

would it be the glitter and the gold

or just the simple cobblestones

and the way they define our paths


where do you go in our darkest hours

when we need your whispered song


oh how it rings in troubled silence

like prayers so layered in the dust


alone on the windswept plain

the wagon spinning wheels

they turn me round and over

ever to your thoughts


and if just

for one simple, quiet moment

i could be your iris wide

i would take in all your memories

with folded wings along my side

striking out the distance

to quench the fires of my strife

and be a simple creature

warmed by swollen thermals in the night


i would love you for this honor

to look out from your eyes

and we would be friends as such forever

one of land and one of sky


-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari  7/24/14

“red ant fires”

red ant fires smolder in the georgia dust

and the droning sound of pollinators

it trickles through the air

like summer balloons on an evening sky


the old orchards have fallen to decay

the fruit is bitter and flush with the taste of sin


there are gravestones that stretch in glimmering white

so plainly beautiful and bursting with emotion


it all unfolds like a dreamscape

childhood vacations etched in memory


and all along the coast

among the grass and swaying palms

the sand is built of castles

we are kings upon our thrones


but the sodden wheels of time

they have drenched our dreaming wheels


for now we talk when once we tumbled

and pray when once we slept


we have been cast out from our ocean

our toes beneath the foam

and we wonder why this happened

how we came to know this home


-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/25/14


“fireflies and sheep”

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


“beneath, behind and in between…”

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



fleet of foot

on wide slanted lines

precious little artifacts

hidden in the moorish design

glistening azure tiles to the sky

white hot roof tops

and spice market flags

they shift and flap

high above the mud walls

and the summer fountain yards

beads turn over clutched hands

nimbly building prayers of glass

shattering spirited worlds

affecting far removed hearts

away in the fields of some distant land

and there, among the banyan trees

shade grows long with the day

turning and pressing the jam scented fruit

soon to be on its way

to coffee houses filled with steam

a taste between conversations

and the words they carry home

will fit like the scabbard blade

passing between lips

unknown they will digest

with a passing sleight of hand

a forehead kiss goodnight

the dreamers will have dreamed

they will awake

to mornings yellow light

hearing the sounds of silence

and the birds aloft in flight

crossing endless landscapes

around and round they go

always back to where they started

but they do not even know


-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/20/12


“for lauren”

in the falling season
trees scatter their lost children about the ground
they form road-side memorials that dress the streets
there final days spent in shades of blood and turmeric
as winter takes its grip on land and shore
they frost and crumble like morning scones at your bedside
the seasons flow on like some western surveyor
and we feel the chill of northern lights upon us
together we sip pinot in the evening glow of muted lamps
a bundle of threadbare blankets stashed safely in the wardrobe
tales of old are spun like so much yarn on your grandmother’s lap
and together we come to part the sorrows
grey days seem a continuum
darkness falls early and slow slumber awaits
but we welcome her
our spring darling beauty
dressed in alpine meadow colors
and we venture to the sea for relief
the salt spray and southern breezes make us whole again
around the table gathering conversation grows
and leaves are born again to mothering oaks
we raise our glasses high
and scrape the splinters from our fresh broken chop sticks
this evening will bring dinner and talk of travels
summer awaits in all her glory
for we are her progeny
and she
our savior

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/26/12

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