Author: Dr Kamand Kojouri

Kamand Kojouri was born in Tehran, raised in Dubai and Toronto, and resides in England. She completed a creative writing PhD at Swansea University and currently teaches creative writing workshops.

For LL

October 18, 2025

It is not nothing
that it’s the loveliest night of the year
I hear a melody from my balcony
—elsewhere life is exploding 
becoming stars
but all that is lost on me
I am here trying not to name this
How can I not say
that for me
there is not enough of you

I invent you
numerous times a day
practice not saying the words
as you laugh lawlesssly
and hold me in your solid livingness
yet each time I fall 
forever like a leaf
It’s become so hard
I blurted the words 
in a goodbye to your dog

It’s the loveliest night of the year
as I practice unspeaking
how to not say there was
whatever that came before
and then a life of possibility

Kamand Kojouri

Finalist for the Rhys Davies National Short Story Prize 2024

August 7, 2025

[Posting this almost a year later]: I’m honoured to have my short story ‘Felix’ shortlisted for the prestigious Rhys Davies Short Story Competition 2024, especially since the brilliant Rebecca F John is the guest judge. Congratulations to all other shortlisted authors! So excited to receive a copy of the anthology, edited by the incredible Elaine Canning.

What do we know?

July 11, 2024

What do we know of the man
who passes us in the street?
Do we notice his multitudes
— the million masterpieces of his mind?
There aren’t enough years to really know someone.
He has already changed in the passing.
Come, it is getting late.
Let me share my infinite selves.

Kamand Kojouri

for Falasteen

May 23, 2024

the boy i adored at sixteen gifted me his keffiyeh 
feeling guilty for living when others were killed 
simply for existing i haven’t seen him in sixteen years 
but think of him often these days his grandmother’s purse 
still carrying keys to their home believing they’d return 
in weeks can it even be called a key 
if what it unlocked is no longer there? 
we’d sneak onto mall rooftops & pretend shooting 
only happened with stars! we have a duty of memory 
he said so they’ll kill us all until only the soil 
is witness how could i reply? i sat in my liquid silence 
today there are nurseries of martyrs 
they bomb babies for they fear enemies 
hiding between pacifiers & tiny wrists 
bomb hospitals because enemies hide in ICU bedpans 
bomb schools because enemies hide in children’s bags 
bomb the oldest mosques & churches because enemies 
hide in rosary beads & votive candles 
they bomb journalists because enemies are hiding 
under their PRESS vests & helmets 
bomb poets because enemies hide in pages 
of peace poems the elderly are bombed 
because enemies hide under their canes 
the disabled are bombed because they harbour 
enemies in their artificial limbs 
they raze & burn all the ancient trees 
because enemies make bombs from olives 
they bomb water treatment plants 
because enemies are now water 
& so it goes: justification provided 
exoneration granted business as usual 
& the boy I adored has green-grey eyes 
the colour of fig leaves 
we don’t speak but i wish to tell him 
i’m sorry the world is a blade i’m sorry 
home is blood & bones i’m sorry music 
is sirens & wails i’m sorry night is infinite
but the boy I adored has grey-green eyes 
the colour of forgotten ash 

Kamand Kojouri

On the ferry back from Büyükada

April 18, 2024

the setting sun’s soft rays
scarcely light the faces 
of my fellow weary travellers
sons joke with their fathers
daughters sleep on mothers’ laps
friends play faded playing cards  
with an envelope for the missing jack
here a toddler’s hand under his chin 
like a scholar there a family roars
with laughter eating sunflower seeds 
from a pink plastic bag 
we breathe the crisp marmara sea
together suddenly i loved you
despite your circus of violence 
i love you Humanity!
with all your many ifs 
and your many thens

Kamand Kojouri

your mouth corrupts me

January 18, 2024

“your mouth corrupts me
protests time
i found religion in those freckles
               & became a pilgrim
your infinite hands
        just so
meant for worship
come, 
        absolve me
               make me light, light”

Kamand Kojouri

your memory is hidden

January 17, 2024

“your memory is hidden 
in every thing that’s not me

even this lonesome cigarette 
and that crooked painting

i hear their laments
and invite them in

who am i to deny
their wretched destiny

we talk of you and sigh
there’s much too sighing 

then i close my eyes to dream
of your tender mercies

i didn’t kiss you enough”

Kamand Kojouri

my wish for the new year:

January 1, 2024

may we continue to drop our masks 
& unlearn our selves, to seek 
softness & grace, never to yield 
unless to beauty, to truth, to light 
like a flower. may we learn peace from 
trees & play from wild animals. may 
we belong to ourselves, & ourselves 
alone, & build communities where 
every woman is free, where we help 
one another & share with each other 
out of duty of compassion, out of love. 
may we end genocides everywhere 
& needless famine. may we remember 
we are guests in this world & our 
purpose is to walk each other home.

Kamand Kojouri