Posts Tagged ‘summer’
10
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: ancient, bride, dreaming, dreams, enchanting, hunger, infinity, June, light, love, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, pollinators, roman, sky, sleep, summer, summer love, sunflowers, water. Leave a comment
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
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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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2
May
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: beauty, blog, counting sheep, fireflies, girls, grass, laughter, lights, moon, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poetry blog, poetry writer, poets, secrets, sheep, sky, sleep, spring, stars, summer, the moon, whispers, writer, writing poems, writing poetry. 1 comment
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
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13
Mar
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: all, alone, always, carve, carved, change, creature, creatures, day, dream, ears, end, fever, fingers, fireflies, firefly, flowers, forever, future, gentle, glitter, glittering, harp, hold, impulse, impulses, kaleidoscope, little, memories, memory, millions, never, page, pages, petals, pine, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, rain, rest, secret, secrets, see, sky, smoke, sound, sounds, spiral, spring, static, string, summer, sweet, take, the end, tickle, toes, winter, wood, words, write, writer, writing, yawn. Leave a comment
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
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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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2
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: ark, brides, burning, califi, cars, cities, cool, daugther, days, deep, delight, dim, dreams, evenings, eys, fabric, feelings, flame, flight, fog, forever, heart, ideas, kisses, laughter, leaving, love, marshamallow, memories, misty, moments, mother, mountains, night, poem, poet, poetry, river, sadness, secret, share, sister, sound, star, summer, sweet, tears, time, together, trails, travel, vineyard, whispers, wind. 1 comment
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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2
Jul
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: acacia, beginning, blog, blogger, blogging, born, breakfast, celestial, dancing, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, dust, enlightenment, fairies, feet, garden, ghosts, girls, gleaming, gliitering, green, heart, hearth, homes, light, lonely, lovers, morning, night, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, scones, sea, soft, summer, sunlight, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, touch, trains, window, wishes, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
cold trains
viewed from the breakfast window
they slide by
fluttering like old nitrate film
burning gardens in their passing
stirring up dust
trapped in a gleaming shaft of sunlight
it is what we see
only the edge of enlightenment
only the lonely fragments of truth
captured like so many wishes
in a bottle
set out to sea
and the lines of clothing
set out to dry
they are ghosts in the arbor
sugar plum fairies in the wood
and summer girls
in their summer dresses
taking strolls on the glittering pavement
while the acacia smiles
and black eyed susan
she gives a knowing wink
back now
to the eyes of morning
sifting through the newsprint
flour spinning off the rolling pin
pressing out scones in the old clay oven
a character belting out lines from the summer stage
soon blankets will lay like carpet
suffocating the manicured lawn
and we will come from our homes
and from our cool ash hearths
for the season so invites
the atmosphere filled with dashing attire
bowties and stocking feet abound
they settle in
for the long night is coming
and with the strumming
the celestial heart dips slowly out of sight
calming the little ones
it marks the ending of the day
for when this chapter closes
with lovers pulling tight
we will seek a new beginning
in the morning sunday light
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 7/2/12
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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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