Category: Uncategorized

HE TRIED TO MEASURE HIS DAY

November 20, 2016
“He tried to measure his day
by tallying the hours on his wrist.
I wiped it off and called him a prisoner.
He placed the hours on a scale
with hours from former days to compare.
I took a hammer and broke it all.
He bent down and picked up the
shards of minutes first
then swept the seconds.
I told him he’d missed a spot;
there were some sparkling specks left.
“What are they?” he asked.
“Those are moments,” I said.
“What are they made of?” he asked.
They are times, I thought, when you win a race
or win a heart.
They are times when you give birth
or lay something, someone to rest.
When you wake up in the morning
with a smile because anything is possible.
When someone compliments the thing
you hate most about yourself.
Times when you are embarrassed.
Times when you are hurtful.
Times when you relish in a hearty meal.
Times when you service others and
are content with a well-spent day.
“What are they made of?” he asked again.
“They are made up of times when we are fully present.”
I licked my finger and picked up one of the specks
with the tip of my finger.
“Do you remember this?” I asked.
“Of course,” he said, “I was whistling in the kitchen
that morning.”
“Why?” I asked.
“Because of the knowledge
that I was loved.'”

 

Kamand Kojouri

DO THE LOVERS KNOW?

November 20, 2016

“Do the lovers know
that when they whisper these poems
they are commemorating our love?
Do they ever think of you and me
or only of themselves?
Do they know that I once found
a strand of your hair
and wore it around my neck
like a necklace?
That I kiss your hands
more than I kiss your lips?
Do they realise that our love
and their love
are drops in the universe’s ocean of love
and that without any of these drops,
the ocean would be
less?”

Kamand Kojouri

TELL ME WHERE SWANS GO IN WINTER

November 20, 2016

“Tell me where swans go in winter
I need to know if the mute ones can sing.

Tell me why stars fall from the sky
I need to know if it is luck they bring.

Tell me why feathers land near you
I need to know if you’ve injured your wing.

Now, tell me where you end, my angel
For I no longer know where I begin.”

Kamand Kojouri

FRIDAY

November 20, 2016

“It is raining blood today.
I open my book and write Black Lives Matter
to acknowledge the unanswered injustices.
I write Blue Lives Matter
for how can any human
be separate
from humanity?
I write All Lives Matter
but stare at these words—
Don’t they invalidate the others?
I stand conflicted
as the clouds continue to bleed.
I try to erase the last phrase
but find the blood
has already
drowned my words.”

Kamand Kojouri

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