27
Jun
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: air, amazement, coffee, dream, dreams, heart, love, picture, poem, poems, poet, poetic, poetry, poetry blog, poetry blogger, relationship, relationships, see, sight, silence, silent, unbroken, unbroken chain, vast, wind, wonder, wonderful, world. Leave a comment
i have seen her bathing
in a swell of mountain sweat
her curls singed by miles
the smell of oak on a fiery wind
and yet so soft does she remain
a sculptured form in cotton
a sugary whisp of air so gently stumbling
my eyes are widened with amazement
a dusting of cinnamon upon my coffee-stained lips
this powdered world from which i see
toes and eye lashes and all those wonderful things
a foot in leathered straps
over rocks and moss and oceans
big blue dreams are cascading
the streets are filled with stars
all of them are falling
wishing they were yours
but none have come to know you
the way you take your toast in the morning
on a chair inside my heart
and so there it is
on a perch so gently nestled
between my ribs and near my throat
a home that you have found
a smallness by the river
a distant trickling sound
but even should it grow silent
the colors still remain
those that paint the picture
of this vast, unbroken chain
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 6/27/18
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22
Aug
Posted by jasonstaroftheeast in Uncategorized. Tagged: alone, bay, beach, beaches, beneath, blog, blogger, blogging, born, breath, breathe, breathing, castle, castles, clock, clocks, clouds, coming, dance, dancer, dancing, day, days, deep, dimming, dream, dreamer, dreaming, dreams, drift, drifting, driving, droning distance, end, evening, faces, fall, falling, fast, fireflies, flee, foray, gold, gray, green, grey, hourglass, kiss, kisses, layers, light, lips, little, map, maps, millions, moon, moons, morning, near, nearing, nothing, now, one, outside, poem, poems, poet, poetry, poets, pool, sand, say, sea, shadow, shadows, sleep, sleeping, slow, slowly, slumber, slumbering, soft, starlight, sugar, swim, swimmer, swimming, swims, think, thinker, thinking, thoughts, time, touch, warm, way, whirring, women, wondering, world, write, writer, writing, yearning, yellow, you. Leave a comment
swimming in the dreaming pool
at the end of the dimming world
fireflies are whirring in the droning distance
sugar clouds are rushing overhead
here?
in the thinning grey…
clocks move like motionless time
they are the coming fall
women are driving on maps of gold
here in the sleeping shadows
one deep layer beneath another
falling through the hourglass way
on the sand of yellow beaches
near the castles of the moon
there in the slumbering bay
you are breathing now slowly
in the grip of this evening’s foray
there will be lips
and kisses
and millions of days
drifting faster, then slowly
well on your way
but when comes morning?
nearing like starlight
warming little faces that flee
there will be no more swimming
no more wondering
there is nothing more i can say
for you are alone now
set a drifting…
there?
in the dreaming sea
-Jason Cyrus Akhtarekhavari 8/22/12
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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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