I`am so in love with this poem right now.................
listen softly,again and again and again.....
Read and enjoy.
For the boys with the beautiful sisters. Shake the dust.
listen softly,again and again and again.....
Read and enjoy.
This is for the fat girls.
This is for the little brothers.
This is for the school-yard wimps, this is for
the childhood bullies who tormented them.
This is for the former prom queen, this is for
the milk-crate ball players.
This is 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 the midnight
bike riders who are 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 the beautiful sisters. Shake the dust.
For the girls with the brothers who are going
crazy,
for 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, the hard men who want
to love but know that it won't come.
For the ones who are forgotten, the ones the amendments
do not stand up for.
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 a moment go by that doesn't remind
you that your heart beats 900 times a day and that there are enough gallons of
blood to make you an oceans.
Do not settle for letting these waves settle and
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 and
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 biggots,
this is for the sexists,
this is for the killers.
This is for the big house, pen-sentenced cats
becoming redeemers and for the springtime that always shows up after the every
single winter.
This - 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 a part of myself
to give to you.
So shake the dust and take me with
you when you do for none of this has never been for me.
All that pushes and pulls, pushes and pulls 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.
This is yours!
Make my words worth it, make this not just
another poem that I write, not just another poem like just another night that
sits heavy above us all.
Walk into it, breathe it in, let is crash
through the halls of your arms at the millions of years of millions of poets
coursing like blood pumping and pushing making you live, shaking the
dust.
So when the world knocks at your front door,
clutch the knob and open on up, running forward into its widespread greeting
arms with your hands out stretched before you,
fingertips trembling,
though they may be.
Shake the dust.
Written and performed by Anis Mojgani
