Thursday, October 4, 2012

Rock Out (Direct Orders) - [Poem #1]

Well I said there would be poetry for those who cared, so here is the long-overdue first poem. Poetry is awesome, and yet so unappreciated.  I think those high school English classes exposed us to one-too-many boring and stuffy poem, and that has ruined it for most people. I assure you, the stuff I post will be much better than what you read in high school.

So on to the poem! It is by a spoken word/poet named Anis Mojgani, and he is my absolute favorite at the moment. I've memorized five or six of his poems (best tool for coping with long-distance running), so you will see more of this guy in the future. But don't wait for me, look into this guy yourself.

Rock Out (Direct Orders)

You have been given a direct order to rock the fuck out. Rock out like you were just given the last rock n' roll album on earth, and the minutes are counting down to flames.
Rock out like you just won both showcase showdowns.
Rock out like the streets are empty except for you, your bicycle, and your headphones.
Rock out like your lips, which are placed onto a breakdancing muse with legs that go all the way up.
Rock out like you'll never have to open a textbook again. 
Rock out like you were paid to disturb the peace.
Rock out like music is all that you've got.
Rock out like you're standing on a rooftop and the city's loud and glowing like a river beneath you.
Rock out like the plane is going down, there are 120 passengers on board, and 121 parachutes.
Rock out like the streets and the books are all on fire, and the only way it can be extinguished is by doing the electric slide.
Rock out like it's Saturday afternoon, and Monday is a national holiday.
Rock out like somebody's got a barrel pointed at your temple, saying: "Rock out like your life depended on it, fool" because it does.
Rock out like your eyes are fading, but you still got your ears. But you don't know for how long, so rock out like 5 o'clock time, make pop-in-lot time.
Rock out like you've got pants full of tokens, and nothing to do but everything.
Rock out like you are the international skee-ball champion of the entire universe!
Rock out like you just escaped an evil orphanage to join the Russian circus.
Rock out like your hero is fallen, and you're spinning your limbs until they burst into a burning pyre of remembrance.
Rock out like you are enslaved in the South, and dancing is all that you have to know who you are.
Rock out like your dead grandfather just came back to take a drive with you in your new car.
Rock out like the table is full.
Rock out like the neighbors are away.
Rock out like the walls wont fall, but dammit, you're going to die trying to make them.
Rock out the the stereo's volume knob is the figure 8 of infinity, instead of merely numbers.
Rock out like its raining outside and you've got a girl to run through it with. 
Rock out like you're playing football! Football in the mud, and your washing machine is not broken.
Rock out like your throwing your window open on your honeymoon because you want the world to know what love is.
Rock out like you just got a book published.
Rock out like you just went to your high school reunion to find everyone, even the women, are all overweight and bald, except for the former homecoming queen, who you just found out got divorced from her impotent husband and only has eyes for.... YOU!
Rock out like you just got a date with Heidi Klum.
Rock out like a shadowman passes behind you, drops you to your knees. You're buckling in sweat, cold metal's pressed to your forehead, the trigger's pulled, and the gun jams.
Rock out like you've got an empty appointment book, and a full tank of gas.
Rock out like Jimi has returned carrying brand new guitar strings.
Rock out like the mangoes are in season.
Rock out like the record player wont skip.
Rock out like this was the last weekend, like these were the last words, like you don't ever want to forget how.