Biography of Kamand Kojouri
Kamand was born in Tehran, raised in Dubai and Toronto, and resides in Wales. The historical novel she wrote for her master’s programme in London was shortlisted for the Peters Fraser and Dunlop (PFD) literary award. She is currently a Creative Writing doctoral candidate working on her second novel.
Her poetry book, The Eternal Dance, was published in March 2018.
Kamand Kojouri Poems
Missing you, I missed a part of me I shared with you that's now gone.
I Haven't Written You A Poem In Years
I haven't written you a poem in years it seems. How can it be my fault when the words to describe you have not yet been created? When the alphabet lacks the very letters?
Even When I Write About This Swan
Even when I write about this swan and that orchid, I write about you. Every word
Happiness, Do Not Leave Me
Happiness, do not leave me. I know you, a capricious monarch perching on the fortunate flowers you see. Hear me:
They Took My Books
They took my books because my message was love. They took my pen because my words were love.
What Is This Love?
What is this love that makes me see beauty, and makes every beautiful thing bring you back to me?
Everything I Have Become
Everything I have become, everything I will ever accomplish cannot compare to my most impressive feat:
What Of It?
I write our names on the page. What of it, if the paper will be burned? I write our names in the sand. What of it, if the shore will be washed by waves?
How Is It?
"How is it that everything must begin and end with you? There you are,
Listen. Do you see that you can't hear snowfall? Look.
Can We Share My Eyes?
Can we share my eyes so you can see what I see? Can we share my ears so you can hear what I hear?
Come, lovers. Come join us. Bring your empty cups and sit by the fire.
Come Back To Me
Come back to me. Where have you gone? And why so long? I miss the star below your lip,
If You Ask
If you ask all the cells in my body, they only answer your name. Follicles push the hair upwards
Come Back To Me
Come back to me.
Where have you gone?
And why so long?
I miss the star below your lip,
the constellation on your
I miss your ways,
how you net butter-flying words
and release them