Posts Tagged ‘wood’
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
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
Like this:
Like Loading...
22
Feb
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, angels, beach, beaches, bells, blog, blogger, blogging, born, breath, breathe, breathing, cape, cove, dance, dancer, dancing, dark, division, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, dust, envy, field, fields, forgotten, frost, grass, green, halls, light, linger, lingering, longing, mingle, numbers, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pollen, resting, shelter, soft, theater, theaters, theatre, theatres, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, tomb, touch, voice, voices, wall, walls, white, wind, winter, wood, write, writer, writing, yearning. Leave a comment
pollen lingers in the air
like the dust of angels
resting on a field of forgotten numbers
born of long division remainders
in a tomb of winter bells
no longer sounding
we are far from frosted white beaches
far from the capes and coves that shelter
here is where the voices mingle
in the windless halls and old theatres
just outside the walls of braided grass
green with envy
alone in the darkest wood
and breathing…
just breathing
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 2/22/13
Like this:
Like Loading...
poems365dotcom 