GIVE ME BACK TO MYSELF

“Give me back my lips.
I meant to give you a kiss
but a kiss turned to a thousand,
and a thousand to thousands,
and now my lips have left with you.
Give me back my hands.
They only intended to caress you
but they held tight and have forgotten
even the very arms they belong to.
Give me back my mind.
Mind wasn’t even supposed to think of you
but you forced yourself into dreams,
and those dreams dreamed of your reality
and now mind is mindless —
less mine more yours.
Give me back to myself.
I miss my reflection
and who I was before I met you.
Before I eagerly and lovingly,
stupidly and foolishly
gave all of myself to you.”

Kamand Kojouri

AN ARTIST

“I should’ve probably warned you:
once you end a relationship with an artist,
you are perpetually reminded of them.
They have now ruined classical music and jazz for you.
They have ruined books and poetry.
You should just forget about galleries and museums.
But you know what the worst part is?
It’s how they witnessed and observed you,
making you feel like the only person in the room.
And you secretly loved being looked at,
being worshipped.
So now you avoid mirrors.
Because when you look at yourself,
you remember me.”

Kamand Kojouri

MARTYRDOM

“I know you not quite well
Yet I foolishly surrender my mind to you.
Slowly and carefully you have cast a spell
Now my virgin heart only longs for you.
There is no need to push, I am already falling.
Once proudly tall, I’m no longer standing.
Knowing well that I am doomed to misery,
I will roll the dice and take delight in my suffering.”

Kamand Kojouri

WHY DIDN’T YOU WRITE?

“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

GONE ARE THE SUMMER DAYS

“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

“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

YOU THINK YOU’VE MOVED ON

“You think that you’ve moved on.
That you’re happier
and now that you think about it —
you’re quite glad
that it didn’t work out
because you are free
and happy.
You’re so happy.
And it’s better this way.
“Here,
let me tell you my reasons,”
you say. “Let me explain
what I mean.”
After hours of telling
your neighbour and
the florist
and the girl on the bus,
you conclude:
“So, you see? I’m happier now.”
You tell the brokenhearted
your tale
and assure them
it’s for the best,
“So you see? It was meant to be.”
But my dear,
my foolish
hurting dear,
your ego is the bullet
left in the wound.
It’s this ego
that needs to explain itself
and justify the battle.
A true warrior
would be too busy
fighting to live.”

Kamand Kojouri