Posts Tagged ‘spirit’
26
Oct
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, cell, cold, dance, dancing, delight, dream catcher, fall, falling, feet, immortal, leaves, light, mirror, mirrors, music, night, peotry, poem, poems, poet, poetry blog, poetry blogger, poetry site, poetry website, poetry writer, poetry writing, reflect, reflection, sight, soul, souls, spirit, stories, summer, thought, thoughts, tree, trees, wind, winter, wood, writers blog, writing poetry. Leave a comment
cold words fall like a drafty afterthought
the dream catcher leaves have arrived
our woods retain sudden memories of warmth
there is a new kind of music that swirls in our driveways
and a familiar sort of dance
it is one for the trees
and for their dearly departed souls
they crumble and drift
they rattle and hum
a trillion cells immortal
gone to live beneath our feet
and oh how we breathe
our hearts in repose
we have sanctioned their coming
though such memories are but on loan
they have triggered our senses
those first to be found
now surrendering forever
for in the winter they will have gone
but i shall be your ghosted firefly
your remnants of summer
and in the evening your pumpkins
so lovingly carved out of light
i will smile from doorways open
and walk your sugary streets
for i have been in such worlds
i have tasted those treats
but while we are here
in a place…
so strangely familiar
perhaps we should ask…
what words have you seen falling?
are you such a catcher of dreams?
we must ponder how they answer
those warm wooden trees
it is not enough to simply listen
to hear their songs in the night
we must wonder why they tremble
so cold with delight
as if their notes were softly telling
this story of the night
or should we wonder?
have we missed something greater…
perhaps just this season
our earthly prayers bathed in light
or a symbol freshly shattered
a reflective mirror
for those without sight
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 10/26/16
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12
Nov
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, autumn, birds, blog, blogger, blogging, clouds, dream, dreamer, dreaming, fall, flight, happiness, love, mindfulness, seasons, singing, song, songs, soul, spirit, wind. Leave a comment
she has come to me
like a swell of autumnal golden wind
her immense energies run wild through my hair
my sunglassed watery eyes are singing
the scratch and rustle of her myriad refuse
it litters my pathway like a dream cut from a yellowish brown world
and i am stillness in her path
my mindful steps so quietly touch the firmament
i drink the enormity of this boundless energy
and wonder over the former parts of myself
now cast among the stars of a different reality
how now do they mingle?
what sly and clever forms have they taken?
are they the birds that sang to me when I was lost?
are they the clouds that kept the morning sun at bay?
perhaps i should just never know…
and why shall i lament?
for i am the bird that sings upon this morning
and in the evening, the clouds will i become
i will shade you from such burdens
giving flight to lost horizons
and when that kiss of wind
it comes again in spring
my lips will be unfrozen
having awakened from this dream
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 11/12/15
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3
Mar
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: acre, acres, air, alive, alone, angel, angels, bliss, boats, bright, cake, cars, carve, cheeks, child, children, clouds, confections, craft, crafted, creature, creatures, crown, dawn, distance, distant, farms, food, gentle, glass, glistening, gold, grass, grow, heart, hearts, hills, home, homes, horizon, land, laugh, laughter, leaving, live, might, morning, nectar, orange, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pollen, restless, rust, rusting, search, searching, shadows, sing, singing, sleep, sleeping, song, speak, spirit, spirits, static, steam, stone, summer, sun, sway, sweat, sweet, sweetness, swell, swim, swimming, swoon, vision, visions, wand, wands, warmth, water, weep, wood. Leave a comment
cars on the water
swimming in a glass
half-full of morning laughter
and the tire-irons rusting
like restless creatures
tall in the grass and singing
like wands in the woodshop carving
and crowns that lay alone sleeping
they wait for spirits and the leaving
while the boats on land are steaming
there they search for the horizon bleeding
orange and gold and glistening
we are the shadows that grow in that distance
and the mighty clouds that weep
we are the static in the air
and the hearts that swell and swoon
we sweat and sway
our cheeks they gently brush
for we are the pollen and the nectar
our sweet confections crafted
of angels, food and cake
and when we speak of visions
in the straining hour of dawn
we think upon the hillside
looking down over the hills and farms
and we know of the children waking
and the bliss of beds and homes
we think then of the warming
when comes the sun this morning?
a disc alive and bright
we move swiftly through the acres
through the channels carved in stone
wishing only for this moment
one more summer here alone…
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 3/3/13
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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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20
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: artifacts, azure, birds, blog, blogger, blogging, born, circles, coffee, conversation, dancing, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, feet, flags, fountain, fruit, green, heart, home, kiss, land, light, lips, markets, moors, mud, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, silence, sky, soft, spice, spirit, steam, summer, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, touch, world, write, writer, writing, yearning, yellow. Leave a comment
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
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