hamed komeili

hamed komeili Poems

hamed komeili Biography

Hamed Komeili was born in 1983 in Tehran in a warm and artistic family. His mother is painter, she is a realist painter. She is teacher too. She teaches art in guidance school. His uncle is nastaligh(a kind of Persian hand writing style) master. Hamed will write nastaligh well too. His uncle (His mother's brother) Is Persian language professor, he teaches in university. His grandfather was architect but he is retired now. His father doesn't have any art, he is a business man. And Hamed, He graduated in public relation field in university. He teaches computer science before, but now he is working in an engineering company. He writes his first poem when he was a student in primary school and read it in a ceremony in school. But after knowing his societies problems he threw away his poems and he writes poems in another meanings till now. He have 45 poems and many of them have social meanings, and some of them are about the characters who he love them. Like cyrus the great, greatest Persian king who lived 3000 years ago.)

The Best Poem Of hamed komeili

You And I Are The Devil's Slaves Yet

I remember
I was a skillful painter
Like Van Gogh like Dali
I was just busy with
Drawing the beauty of oases

I remember
I draw a garden on the height
There was a beautiful pond in the middle
But
The flowers were all sorrowful
Because of thirst

I thought to draw a human being
To water the flowers
And saturate them

I took a brush
Do you have permission? My friend said
No, I said

It is said not to draw a hand, he said
Maybe this hand takes a brush
To draw on the wall
To write down with injustice
Ok I said

It is said not to draw a leg, he said
Maybe this leg runs like a fawn
And cause a victim to escape
Ok I said

It is said not to draw eyes and lips, he said
Maybe these eyes see the dark
And the lips say the story of this contempt
Ok I said

It is said not to draw ears, he said
Maybe these ears hear the wail of a man
Ok I said

I remember
I drew a man
Who couldn’t see this beautiful scene
And didn’t water the flowers
Because he didn’t have any hands
And he was not able to move
With no legs
The lonely man couldn’t hear the birds' songs
With no ears
The sad man couldn’t sing
Without lips
He himself knew
Who will be captured in my painting
Forever
And he had
A sincere heart in his breast

I remember
My garden dried
And the pond become lagoon
And flowers withered

I remember
To appreciate my beautiful art
And my dauntless answers
I being responsible to issue the permission

At once
Because of having my high rank
I said:
Order to draw hand
This hand should take a brush
Draw on the wall
Write down with freedom
Down with repeating flower and oasis

Order to draw legs
These legs have to run in the garden
And squash
Every beautiful flower

Order to draw lips
These lips have to tell us
The place of pigeons

Order to draw eyes
These eyes have to see the dark
And feel the presence of demon

Do you remember yet?
The years pass
I and you are retired
In meanness, my friend

Do you remember yet?
How much cruel we were?
How many odes we killed together?
How many mouth we shut together?

I know well
Paradise isn’t oppressors place
I know well
Paradise is place of pigeons
Who only laugh

But hell
Is only for you and me
And hell is here
You and I are the devil's slaves yet!

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