kamand-kojouri

You are not who you think.You're not even the thinker.You are the one conscious of the thought.

We all live but a hundred years. When I am with you, I live it in a matter of days.

Lovers dream of one more embrace.One more kiss.One act of love, no matter how small.For in loving, lover and belovedemptied themselves.Now, they look for their oasislike men engulfed in flames.Even filled to the brim, they will never satiate. For they continue to leak, thesecracked vessels.How else did love seep through?

Stop looking forward to things, look inward instead.

Maybe when we face a tragedy, someone, somewhere is preventing a bigger tragedy from happening.

People don__ remember lessons. They remember stories.

Come to me.Why must you ruin this moment?You are burdened with thought.Burdened with the pastand expectations of the future.You are burdened with your self.Cast these aside by laughing at yourself.And love,for what more is there than to love me?Take me nowand let it be heaven for us.

Truth is unoriginal.

As long as you're not hurting anyone or anything, including your future self, do only that which makes you happy.

I left the bankbecause they wouldn__ deposit my cheque of poems.So I went to the store,but they didn__ acceptmy currency of words.So I boxed all my storiesand took them to charity.But they refused my donation and asked me to give blood instead.I opened the notebooks and made them look, 'What do you think I wrote these in?

You know how sometimes you meet someone and you feel like you've known them your whole life?Well, I feel like I've loved you my whole life.

Come back to me.Where have you gone?And why so long?I miss the star below your lip,the constellation on your chest.I miss your ways,how you net butter-flying words and release themfor others to enjoy.I miss your tenderness,the sweetness of your breathand the song of your voice.I miss howyou worship me.Come back to me once more.Why did you go?And whatever for?The heavens plotted against us.The clouds came andpissed on our lives.The smell of charged particlesstill lingers in the air.What will become of you and I?Come back to us.

Knowing you, I understood myself.

Don__ worry if you don__ accomplish everything in this life. Fortunately, death overcomes every thing__ven the very thing that tried to kill us.

Sadness is an invitation to God.

Ask of your eyes to seeonly to seek love.Ask of your mouth to speakonly to utter words of love.Ask of your hands to feelif only to touch the lover.

Clocks were invented to warn us. Tick (time is passing). Tock (time has passed).

All kinds of people read poetry: revolutionaries, scholars, sentimentalists etc. But above all else, lovers read poetry. Why? Because we fell in love. And then we fell in love with love.