A few pictures in front of me

Earlier this month my father, Javad Hamidi, painter, poet and teacher at Tehran University, was struck by a speeding motorcycle in Tehran, and passed away. He was 84 (or 88 by some accounts). I wrote a little poem for his memory.

Smartly dressed, hat slightly tilted

You're walking in the streets of Paris

Full of purpose, penniless and late

But then again, you were gifted

Waving to a painting of wolves

In a little gallery, Montmarte

Furry baroness your captive

The light on the canvas dissolves

Then there's your resplendent

White young beautiful bride

Stealing a glance, bored and stunned

Here you are, almost triumphant

With the times, hair much longer now

In your esthetic modern sunny house

In a deep conversation with someone

A little distant, a little furrow in brow

You were strong, and steady, and holy

And you died just as spectacularly

As your life and work and thoughts

Float to us, lucky enough to be by

And thank you for coming in my dream

Thank you for the hug and good vibe

I laughed really hard in the shower today

But it's much harder to explain why

To Javad Hamidi, 1918-2002
Love, Jam

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