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

“circles”

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

“for katie”

there is a picture on the wall
and the beauty it contains dangles like a curl
it flows through the room like wine from a forgotten cask
invoking ageless emotions only found in the eyes of a lonesome puppy
years have come and years have gone since the day it took shape
like a pure sonnet or a dancer on stage we never tire of it
i have seen this before
on distant walls
in distant homes
that span the length and breadth of our country
a land full of children and toys
a land of letters and words
they connect the sorrow and the joy of hearts separated
the indestructible bonds that shine like white teeth in the afternoon sun
we are all here now
as we shall always be
we have stitched an everlasting tapestry of friends
and we frame them like captured butterflies in a dusty museum hall
but as always we come together for those certain occasions
creating new visions of our future
dancing to the music of laughter
and feasting on the essence of togetherness
always remember these days
spent on couches and spinning cars
these are the days to remember
and they will never die

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/25/12

“for linda”

memories flow like a swift torrent of water
chasing some unspoken promise
with the speed of a subterranean river
and the power of a million spinning prayer wheels
they radiate the sound of love across the heart-born expanse
they twist like baby dancers in the far recesses of your soul
and then…
you remember
father was the maker of memories
he taught you all the things that the maiden forbid
he was the iron cross when the storms came
and the giver of sweet kisses when all things felt wrong
now you rest and remember
life as it were
you sit by the leaf, by the axe, by the pile
warmed by the air of the wood by the fire
and father is still there…
somewhere?
he celebrates his creation for all eternity
he thinks of you…

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/25/12

“for becky”

the sands of time flow in luscious curves
california mountains set the pace of glowing streams
vines grow a hundred years deep
to tap the soulful waters that fell so many years ago
and you walk the line of migration
falling through huckleberry trails
surrounded by misty mornings
picking the fruit of the twisted vine
it all falls in rows
wondering wild beneath a canopy of jade
couples snuggle by the fading fire light
they are wrapped in a blanket of stars
and in the foreign morning they wake
stirred by the willow branches thrashing in the wind
the new day calls for them
the fruits of their labor to be found
they pop the cork of the tawny red
and drink the tears of angels

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/25/12

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