Posts Tagged ‘thought’

“falloween”

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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“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

“childish thoughts”

carve your totem from the light of a distant orb
draw salty little chalkboard circles on you lover’s heart
make sweet mention of me in dead sea scrolls
or rest and wait for a chocolate night-path
born on a winter’s monday
whittled from the fallen lumber of a day’s work

oh how the innocent have come
how the guilty shall fall
through the paper shuffle cracks
and time hole punches

so be a little bird, chest puffed out
be a loud siren, driving streets of water
what a magnetic force you bring
a diamond glass cut across your face
ice hotels and molten gardens delight
surely you can stay?
for a little while…
surely you can reign over my parade
and cast a slick little smile

think of when you were young
and boats were water-cars
think of uncles holding you aloft
you saw everything from your pinnacle perch
wind veins blew happiness all about
and an imperfect blade of grass was madness
so think and come…
come back home to all that you have lost
become a child once more!

-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 1/24/12

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