Poetry

I know I've shared Anis Mojgani's stuff before..this is a little montage of selected bits from different poems by Anis with music from Inception.




I'm invincable these hands, these hands they are huge
on a good day I catch bullets like they were frisbees



And we are as strong as a string stuck inside of an ice cube stuck inside of an iceberg
we are as unto diamonds and I know that all that it takes to be invincable sometimes is to know that you are such.



I'm thirty years old and I'm trying to figure out most days what being a man means.



We once went to bed like between the bed sheets was a valley with dinosaurs still breathing
And I will capture these triceratops and brontosauruses
But even he was opened up with the smoke that rose out of the homes
and the corners that we once climbed through,
The streets and the footballs which we once threw,
The school desks upon which we once drew,
The windows that sat open through we once flew,
Before the outside world of parking spaces and dead friends came flooding on in
And we forgot what we wanted
And we became what we've become:
Waitresses and bartenders, city employees and temp positions,
We are junkies and one kiss poems and we cry the stars



And I fall in love six seven eight nine ten times Quentin,
so I don’t want to, want to, but I still do.
And I want to find God in the morning, in the tired hands of dusk 
At the mouth of the river and down by it's feet
But, instead, I drive sixty through residential streets
Praying to find a child so that they may stay safer in front of angels
and safer full of night and light and crayons and the simple outstretched limbs
Trying to pick up way too much way too fast,
Forgetting what it means to be a person.
In a world where egos are measured with tabloids,
Where automobiles double for morals,
Where beliefs are like naps, you leave them behind when somebody touches you.
And in a place where oil always takes precedence over life, I find myself sitting on a bus,
Watching a small boy float down like fresh water,
carrying a book I used to asking if I want to see what he sees if only for a little while, and I do.
Then he says to me he’s going to show me the world
And starts reading the sentences himself, his hands dancing back and forth
across the pages stumbling over words skipping over lines
and his fingers are moving faster and it shows in his eyes
and I want to tell him“Slow down, Quentin."
Slow down, Quentin.


Every breath I give brings me a second closer
to the day that my mother may die
Because every breath I take takes me a second further
from the moment she caught my father’s eye
Because every word I carry is another stone to put into
place in the foundation that I’m building
Because the days can erase something that I never saw
What all of us wanted and what none of us got
What we all had and have and what we all forgot
That we all wanted to be something
That we all became something
And it might not be the shit we once thought we’d be when we
were kids but something is still something
and like some cats say, something is better than nothing

Feet are smarter than an engine
And dreams are stronger than thighs
And questions are the only answers we need to know that we are alive
as I am when I have the mind of a child,
asking why is 2 + 3 always equal to 5 ?
Where do people go to when they die?
What made the beauty of the moon?
And the beauty of the sea?
Did that beauty make you?
Did that beauty make me?
Will that make me something?
Will I be something?
Am I something?”

And the answer comes:
already am,
always was,
and I still have time to be