- published: 22 Feb 2010
- views: 17569
Coordinates: 26°41′43″N 55°37′06″E / 26.69528°N 55.61833°E / 26.69528; 55.61833
Qeshm (Persian: قشم - pronounced kē´shm) is an Iranian island situated in the Strait of Hormuz, and separated from the mainland by the Clarence Strait/Khuran in the Persian Gulf (26°50′N 56°0′E / 26.833°N 56°E / 26.833; 56).
Qeshm Island is located a few kilometers off the southern coast of Iran (Persian Gulf), opposite the port cities of Bandar Abbas and Bandar Khamir. The island, which hosts a 300 square kilometer free zone jurisdiction, is 135 km long, and lies strategically in the Strait of Hormuz, just 60 kilometers from the Omani port of Khasab, and about 180 kilometers from the UAE Port Rashid. The island, at its widest point, located near the center of the island, spans 40 kilometers. Similarly, at it narrowest point, the island spans 9.4 kilometers. The island has a surface area of 1491 square kilometers and is 2.5 times the size of Bahrain. Qeshm city, located at the easternmost point of the island, is 22 kilometers from Bandar Abbas while the closest point of the island is but two kilometers from the mainland.
R.J. Johnson/B. Lee
Today I got my call from Ketchum Idaho
From Hemingway and railways and whiskey wine and snow
But if you've never been in pain before then I guess you wouldn't know
I'm leaving in a while now for Ketchum's icy sting
To walk and fish and write some songs, to stay up late and drink
And if I stay there long enough then I'll never feel a thing
And Ketchum will be good to you if are strong and brave
She caters to the melancholy every single day
And babbles like a drunk old man unloading all his pain
I'll lock myself in Ketchum's stare I'll make her my whole world
I'm gonna roam the Ketchum streets to find a Ketchum girl
And then I'll let her break my heart 'cos that's all that I do well
The valley will become my home her hills will keep me safe
I'll give her songs about my soul when there's no soul left to take
And I'll forget I ever lived in any other place
And it may seem inevitable I would love this fate
So beautiful and tragic and her heroes can't escape
And Hemingway he shot himself one July evening late
But me I couldn't bring myself to bloody Ketchum's name
Underneath her passion boils, never spoils surface tame
I'll slowly let her kill me with her lonely wind and rain