An Un-Love Song

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An Un-Love Song

by  Dana Janine Diamond

 

 

 

I wake with tears

 

beneath the clouds

 

my soul may well have been there

 

it’s been a long, weary journey

 

from the mountain

 

to hear, to here.

 

 

 

I don’t know why she did it

 

why she converted to this religion

 

I don’t know why these women

 

chose a hard life in the corners

 

of the fields

 

maybe they just

 

wanted to be mothers

 

maybe they just

 

wanted to be daughters

 

maybe they just

 

missed their men

 

maybe they just

 

wanted to love

 

God.

 

 

 

So we have their story

 

We have the poem

 

The love song of all love songs

 

We were there

 

when it was written

 

We were there

 

when it was told

 

 

 

I have loved

 

You God

 

with all my soul                                         

 

I have danced

 

to Your music

 

donned the costume

 

for Your play

 

I have stayed

 

the night

 

many nights

 

learning Your words

 

as if by candlelight

 

I have thrown myself

 

upon the rocks

 

for You

 

I have loved

 

You

 

have felt loved

 

by You

 

I was Your child

 

now grown

 

to half a life.

 

 

 

Once a man told me,

 

one of us is a rock

 

and one of us is a flower

 

Damn right I’m a flower.

 

 

 

he broke them

 

he broke them

 

I woke this morn

 

feeling the weight                                                                     

 

as they came crashing down

 

I want to dive into the crashing

 

waves, they’re waving me on

 

I want to live, to float

 

not knowing

 

where I’m going

 

never wanting to leave

 

we are the leaves

 

and the buds

 

and the honey

 

and the streams of milk

 

we are the land and the sea

 

Rising up to greet us

 

We are everything

 

and we are nothing

 

 

 

My heart is heavy                                                                    

 

those who worshipped idols

 

who worshipped the body of

 

both meat and milk

 

the cow is a female

 

but there are those

 

who do not understand

 

the precision of language

 

who do not distinguish

 

between a cow

 

and bull

 

They are here with us now

 

they are worshipping their cows

 

they are worshipping their bulls

 

they are worshipping themselves

 

they are burning us down

 

they are dancing around

 

burning our hearts

 

They are false idols in our midst

 

 

 

Our leaders, they have fallen so low

 

the women wrap

 

themselves in prayer shawls

 

and their eyes burn

 

on the other side

 

of the divide

 

the men throw tongues of fire

 

the women raise their children

 

and they know not

 

from where they came

 

they should have been scholars                     

 

they should have been leaders

 

they should have loved

 

the children

 

more than they loved themselves

 

they dropped us

 

they stomped on us

 

they stomped

 

all over

 

all over

 

all over

 

God.

 

 

 

Our dog is barking

 

howling, growling

 

driving us mad

 

he sniffs out a fox

 

or some creature

 

he detests

 

on the edge

 

of our home

 

amongst the weeds

 

there is no peace

 

in our home

 

under the trees

 

we fall

 

to sleep

 

we are asleep.

 

 

 

I awake

 

this morn

 

with a heavy heart

 

the animals

 

have taken over

 

they have made

 

our children

 

the sacrifice

 

for which they received

 

no commandment

 

they have desecrated

 

The Holy of Holies

 

they have lied

 

and murdered our souls

 

I am here to tell the story

 

to write the poem

 

To cry, my heart,

 

To cry, my heart

 

 

 

Oh Jerusalem

 

We are burning

 

from their fire                                               

 

they have written

 

a new song

 

of rage

 

they remember the fire

 

and not the sea

 

they remember the fire

 

and not the stone

 

they remember the fire

 

and not the mountain

 

they remember the fire

 

and not the Glory

 

they remember the fire

 

and forget the stories,

 

 

 

there is no all-night toil

 

that can eradicate

 

the need for justice

 

 

 

She is crying in the streets

 

She is burning to the ground

 

She is weeping from there to here

 

muting the trumpets

 

to no avail

 

the tears have not,

 

are not, enough

 

to drown the fire

 

there will be no peace

 

until justice is done.

 

 

 

They have forgotten the poem

 

they have un-sung

 

our song.

 

 

 

COPYRIGHT 2013 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

One response »

  1. Thank you for writing this…. I want to read it again and again, and I want to hear you read it. I want to watch these men step from the fire into the sea. I want them to be Nachshon who knows the women will dance…

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