The Tigers, They Let Me, Anis Mojgani
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Women in my family are raised to give. They rarely ever take
unless it’s pain.
My mother and my grandmother Are two of the strongest women I know. They’ve been through a lot, you wouldn’t believe a human being can survive all that…
They both have so much in common: strong, sensitive, talented, independent, unadulterated, generous, radiant, Stubborn, overpowering…
And.. they have very similar reactions when it comes to me:
The eldest child, the eldest granddaughter.
When i say I’m tired my mother reminds me: “but you’re strong”
And when I say I’m afraid it’ll be difficult my grandmother says: “No, not to you, it’s not”
It’s the way they were raised, the way i am…
And although for so long that managed to motivate me
now…
For someone who’s burning, what they say is carried away by the air along with the ashes they stand on, their ashes !
it took me so long to realize
THEY ARE BURNT…
And yet they stand,
like the thought of taking a break will break everyone around them.
Like their pain is nothing but the ash they collect to build their empires with.
Gluing it all by the pieces of themselves they sacrificed; cause they had to.
Life rarely gave them a choice
And here i am… on my way to the top, another version of the same woman.
My story has been prewritten I see it now.
How did i not see it before?
•••
•Quotes: Blythe Baird/James Baldwin/Marguerite Duras/ Fernando Pessoa/Anis Mojgani.
•Original context: Sinligh
•Art reference:
1.Soaking by Ron Hicks. 2. Painting by Joseph Lorusso. 3. Dream House by Lisa Lach-Nielsen. 4. Ricardo Fernandez Ortega
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"And I dream too much and I don’t write enough and I’m trying to find God everywhere."
—Anis Mojgani
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“… In fall, I finished writing a picture book about death, and how we learn to haunt each other, what it might mean to haunt and to be haunted, how the word haunt comes from to be back home.”
—Anis Mojgani, The Tigers, They Let Me
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When you buried yourself under the water, you stole all my love with you. What a beautiful robbery. A beautiful heartbreak of robbery, taking my heart with you. I have been trying to grow it back over the years. Fall keeps coming.
~Anis Mojgani
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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 and millions of poets coursing like blood , pumping and pushing, making you live, shaking the dust. When the world knocks at your 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.
---Shake the Dust by Anis Mojgani
I just wanted to share a piece of a THE poem that got me into poetry and writing. I heard this poem for the first time almost ten years ago and it still impacts me to this day. Anis Mojgani's poetry is some of my favorite if you are looking for a new inspiration.
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The Tigers, They Let Me, Anis Mojgani
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“It is possible to be wild and kind at the same time. It is possible to be both alone and be loved. I have known this to be true. In others. In me. To be loved. And to also still be alone.”
—Anis Mojgani
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Hon or We have both traveled from the other side of some hill, one side of which we may wish we could forget
Love me stupid.
Love me terrible.
And when I am no
mountain but rather
a monsoon of imperfect
thunder love me. When
I am blue in my face
from swallowing myself
yet wearing my best heart
even if my best heart
is a century of hunger
an angry mule breathing
hard or perhaps even
hopeful. A small sun.
Little & bright.
-- anis mojgani
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