HERE’S ANOTHER POEM

November 20, 2016

“Here’s another poem,
like all others before and after,
dedicated to you.
There isn’t anything left to be said
but I will spend my life
trying to put you into words.
You who is every goodness,
every optimism
and hope.
Your love is a better fate for me
than anything I could wish for.
If you are a part of me,
then you’re the best part.
And if you’re separate from me,
then you are my destination.
But I’ve become a weary traveller,
so please,
let us never be apart.”

Kamand Kojouri

WHY DIDN’T YOU WRITE?

November 20, 2016

“Why didn’t you write all this time?
Did you not remember us in a song?
A dance?
In the skies littered with stars?
Did you not get drunk?

Why didn’t you write all this time?
Did you not remember us in a film?
A book?
In idyllic dusks and dawns?
Did you not get high?

It is good that you didn’t.
For all is well.
I am drunk and dazed.
I have already forgotten you
and your bewitching ways.”

Kamand Kojouri

I HAVE NO USE FOR THESE OTHER LOVES

November 20, 2016

“I have no use for these other loves.
Seal them shut in jars
and place them in the pantry.
A reserve of love.

Thank them for their love.
They are so kind.
Perhaps store them in the fridge
For others to take.

They say love is a panacea.
I know it is not.
Flakes of snow,
no two are alike.

When I am down on my knees,
hopeless and angry,
for the world no longer makes sense,
I won’t look in the fridge or pantry.

It is your hand pressing on my shoulder
that makes me whole,
makes me forget:
‘What trouble? What world?’”

Kamand Kojouri

IMPRINT

November 20, 2016

“Violinists wear the imprint on their necks with pride
For they are the players of harmony.

Pilgrims, too, wear the imprint on their foreheads with pride
For they are the conductors of unity.

And Lovers? Why, they are made humble by the imprint on their hearts
For they are merely the instruments of rhapsody.”

Kamand Kojouri

GONE ARE THE SUMMER DAYS

November 20, 2016

“Gone are the summer days
and my mind along with them.
No longer will I indulge
in hopes of getting you back.
It is hope that makes these chains heavier
and autumnal nights longer.
I will merely serve as a memory to you:
the lover that recited love poems.
I must go now
and I urge you not to look back.”

Kamand Kojouri

LOVE, THE EXOTIC BIRD

November 20, 2016

“Love, the exotic bird,
came and went.
Heart forgot love.
Joy, the majestic willow,
wept and died.
Mind forgot joy.
Hope, the basement lamp,
fell and broke.
Soul forgot hope.
Self, the anxious caterpillar,
took flight and dropped.
Self forgot self.
You, my all,
became all my reasons.
Reasons left.
You left.
I never forgot.”

Kamand Kojouri

LIKE A PAIR OF OLD SLIPPERS

November 20, 2016

“Like a pair of old slippers,
I feel comfort and
warmth as I slip into you.
No, that is too crude.

Like the match to the wick,
I ignite when we touch.
My counterpart and
life’s purpose.
Yes, as though I’ve known you my whole life.

Every scar,
every failure
has become an affirmation
of what should be:
You.
Yes, as though I’ve loved you my whole life.”

Kamand Kojouri

COME INTO MY WORLD

November 20, 2016
“Come into my world.
I will show you the phenomenon that Stendhal experienced.
I will help you feel the cascading arpeggios of Wagner’s overture.
I will dance to Doga’s waltzes with you.
A day spent without appreciating the beauty surrounding us is a waste.
Let me appreciate you.”

Kamand Kojouri