Posts Tagged ‘sound’

“forever lost”

i wonder what the sounds of time have seen

as they crawled over ridge tops

down towards those ravines

 

like orchards they have sprung

and from their branches came leaves

such a fruitful mystique

 

a harpsichord drama

a baroque woman’s dream

 

they were dressed in the harshness

that of storms, that of steam

 

but now they are gone

like bees from a hive

for i only see the shadows

of their honey-whispered teams

 

a metronome, i must now become

the keeper of time

a brush on the drum

 

i will call from this window

over mountains and miles

 

i will tear down those walls

and reveal those sweet smiles

 

for i am the sound

and the sights i have seen

i am the one that wanders

forever lost,

in this dream…

 

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari

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“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

“on the trail of dreams”

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

“baby and birds”

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

“california”

california calls me

like a hot summer winded flame

burning in the nearing draw

what a host of cool mounting feelings

and sweet warm memories

there in the misty mountains

on the afternoon of trails

winding through kaleidoscope hills

with little green whispers tickling my ear

small fast cars

and dreamy smoke filled canyons

mothers sisters daughters

lovely brides

in marshmallow white dresses

hot dusty vineyards burning

in a storm of dry white-air kisses

laughter and tears

and long drives from the city

a mind full of ideas

dreams breathing

sorrowful eyes sweating

all these things come and go

they have been

and will forever be

a fabric woven deep

in the heart of circumstance

and when the wheels touch down

and when the fog of flight grows dim

we will emerge from this ark of travel

to embrace the ones we love

with cheeks and kisses

hearts and flutters

a week to spend

made of days and evenings

wondering with delight

never wanting to know of leaving

nor of sadness

nor of night

for we have come from far flung places

and known these ways before

they are locked up in secret spaces

like a river flowing sound

and as we dive to the depths of wonder

with laughter at our side

once more we will be together

under stars that throb and bind

with nothing left but forever

these sweet simple moments alive

oh how we share each other

in these moments of passing time

 

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/2/12

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