Sometimes by Choman Hardi

She says: sometimes we glorify
a dead person, a short love affair.

Sometimes, she says,
we glorify a person because they are dead
we long for an affair because it was short.

Today is the day, she says.
There is no point in missing this sunshine
by remembering another,
no point in thinking yesterday was fine
as this moment is.

But as the clouds slide across the sky
she thinks of him
of that cold Christmas night
when she stayed awake
to watch him sleep.

There is no point, she says,
no point but she thinks of him.


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Choman Hardi has published three books of poetry in Kurdish, but now writes in English. Her first book in English, Life for Us is published by Bloodaxe. She studied philosophy and psychology at Oxford and later at University College London, and has recently completed doctoral research at the University of Kent on the mental health of Kurdish women refugees caught between the clash of cultures. She has recently moved to Paris.

This is part of a series of poems from invited poets. Previous contributors were Luke Heeley, Joe Ross, George Szirtes, Elizabeth Spackman, Ivy Alvarez, Rufo Quintavalle, Todd Swift, Michelle Noteboom, Beverley Bie Brahic, Ethan Gilsdorf and Amy Hollowell. Illustration by Jonathan Wonham.