[POETRY to make your life make sense]:

January 19, 2011

Thank you to Britt for sharing this poet – Anis Mojgani. Enjoy.

This one right here, this is for the fat girls.
This one is for the little brothers.
This is for the school-yard wimps, and for the childhood bullies that tormented them.
For the former prom queen, for the milk-crate ball players.
For the nighttime cereal eaters and for the retired, elderly Wal-Mart store front door greeters.
Shake the dust.
This is for the benches and the people sitting upon them,
for the bus drivers driving a million broken hymns,
for the men who have to hold down three jobs simply to hold up their children,
for the nighttime schoolers and for the midnight bike riders trying to fly.
Shake the dust.
This is for the two-year-olds who cannot be understood because they speak half English and half god.
Shake the dust.
For the boys with a beautiful beautiful sister.
Shake the dust.
For the girls with the brothers who are going crazy,
those gym class wall flowers and the twelve-year-olds afraid of taking public showers, for the kid who’s always late to class because he forgets the combination to his lockers, for the girl who loves somebody else.
Shake the dust.
This is for the hard men, who want to love but know that it won’t come.
For the ones amendments do not stand up for.
For the ones who are forgotten.
For the ones who are told to speak only when you are spoken to and then are never spoken to. Speak every time you stand so you do not forget yourself.
Do not let one moment go by that doesn’t remind you that your heart beats a hundred thousand times a day and that there are enough gallons of blood to make every one of you oceans.
Do not settle for letting these waves settle and for the dust to collect in your veins.
This is for the celibate pedophile who keeps on struggling, for the poetry teachers and for the people who go on vacations alone.
For the sweat that drips off of Mick Jaggers’ singing lips and for the shaking skirt on Tina Turner’s shaking hips, for the heavens and for the hells through which Tina has lived.
This is for the tired and for the dreamers, for those families who’ll never be like the Cleavers with perfectly made dinners and sons like Wally and the Beaver.
This is for the bigots,
for the sexists,
for the killers.
And for the big house, jail-sentenced cats becoming redeemers and for the springtime that somehow seems to always show up after every single winter.
This is for you.
This is for you.
Make sure that by the time fisherman returns you are gone.
Because just like the days, I burn both ends and every time I write, every time I open my eyes I am cutting out parts of myself to give them to you.
So shake the dust and take me with you when you do for none of this has ever been for me.
All that pushes and pulls, and pushes and pulls, it pushes for you.
So grab this world by its clothespins and shake it out again and again and jump on top and take it for a spin and when you hop off shake it again, for this is yours.
Make my words worth something, make this more than just another poem that I write, more than just another night that sits heavy above us all.
Walk into it, breathe it in, let it crash through the halls of your arms like the millions of years of millions of poets coursing like blood pumping and pushing making you live, shaking the dust. When the world knocks at your front door, clutch the knob tightly and open on up, and run forward into its widespread greeting arms with your hands in front of you, fingertips trembling though they may be.

– Anis Mojgani

come closer.
come into this. come closer.
you are quite the beauty. if no one has ever told you that before know that now. you are quite the beauty. there is joy in how your mouth dances with your teeth. your mouth is a sign of how sacred your life truly is. come into this. true of heart come into this. you are true of heart. come closer. come closer. know that whatever God prays to He asked it to help Him make something of worth. He woke from His dreams scraped the soil form the spaces inside Himself made you and was happy. you make the Lord happy.
come into this.
come closer.

know that something softer than us but just as holy planted the pieces of Himself into our feet that we might one day find our way back to Him. you are almost home.
come closer come into this. there are birds beating their wings beneath your breastplate gentle sparrows aching to sing come aching hearts come soldiers of joy doormen of truth come true of heart come into this.
my heart was too big for my body so I let it go and most days this world has thinned me to where I am just another cloud forgetting another flock of swans but believe me when I tell you my soul has squeezed into narrow spaces. place your hand beneath your head when you sleep tonight and you may find it there making beauty as we sleep as we dream as we turn over when I turn over in the ground may the ghosts that I have asked answers of do the turning kneading me into crumbs of light and into this thing love thing called life. come into it!

come you wooden museums
you gentle tigers
negro farces in two broken scenes.
come rusting giants!
I see teacups in your smiles upside down glowing. your hands are like my heart. on some days how it trembles. let us hold them together. I am like you. I too at times am filled with fear. but like a hallway must find the strength to walk through it. walk through this with me. walk through this with me. through this church birthed of blood and muscle where every move our arms take every breath we swallow is worship.
bend with me. there are bones in our throats. if we choke it is only on songs.

 

Anis Mojgani

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One Response to “[POETRY to make your life make sense]:”

  1. Britt said

    I do love Anis Mojgani. Although he has his own way, you might like Andrea Gibson and Buddy Wakefield, too. Check them out on youtube!

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