Category Archives: Girls

Regrets

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by Dana Janine Diamond

 

The moment of repentance

is nearly upon us

I used to be a good person

maybe

I don’t know anymore

it’s all convoluted and confused

by all the rape and abuse

and maybe I never

thought I was good?

 

After my ex-husband tried

to kill me, I used to wish

I could find some mob guy

and put a hit on him

after all, I was forced to leave

Malibu, my soul’s homeland

and became exiled to New Jersey

that alone, and the pain and sudden,

abject poverty were enough

to wish him dead.

 

Then me and my baby girl

could go back home

to the place that sung to me

by day and romanced me

by night

how I longed for majestic waves and vistas

that filled every nook and cranny of

my being

the shoreline is a distant memory

we have music here… but we’re landlocked.

 

When he died (of natural causes)

I cried for weeks

but then, I rejoiced

every single time I remember

he’s dead, I smile

I no longer live in the same fear

that permeated my life for over

seventeen years.

 

Nothing is as I thought it would be

feels like we’re in a permanent state

of Tisha B’Av

I’ve made some apologies, sure,

but I don’t really know where I am

anymore. We are in

an inside online world

 

Nature is in the distance

I still remember the drive

and optimism

now, contemplating goodness

and fear and anger

goodness, anger is the worst

sin of all

for a woman

it renders us not good

in the eyes of the world

anger and sadness

and fear and happiness

are all mixed up

nearly indiscernible

 

I suppose I’m the quintessential

wandering Jew

from land to land

from spiritual quest

to spiritual journey

from pain

to unimaginable pain

and though the day is close

forgiveness is not a

road I’m traveling on

 

I brew my tea, hold

my dogs, hug

my daughter

for hours of my days

I cook the most delicious, inventive food

I nurture, I write almost endlessly

till writing makes me known,

until it makes me a stranger

all that is in me

seeps out

the wonder-filled good and

loving heart

and the despair,

the hardness

the longing for justice

the frustration and impatience

we are locked in this moment

 

I have no idea where I’m going

what lies ahead

or is waiting to greet me

if only God and love

would meet me

 

COPYRIGHT 2018 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining tothejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

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Letting Go (Green Light)

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by Dana Janine Diamond

 

The things we remember

my sister forgetting to put the car in park

in the temple parking lot

picking me up from day camp,

it rolled right into the shed in the back

and crashed the whole thing down,

that was a memorable mess,

oh my, I was about my daughter’s age then,

when I took the bus home from Camp Centerland

passing field flowers waving in the breeze

hundreds of bottles of beer on the wall

came down when Billy was one

and one of us was kissing someone

in a tree and yarn made cradles

while we sang in three part harmonies…

even with her forgetfulness that day

my sister held onto her boyfriend

more than forty years

and we can laugh

at all the mistakes made along the way.

 

 

Now, me, I’ve had a few accidents,

I dented our family garage while backing out early on,

which I’ve come to realize is pretty common

but then I must have had my mind on other things

which can happen when you’re on the run…

I’ll back up a bit now

to about a year before my sister got married,

I went away to a new camp

it seemed like every day was a dream

where I learned to sail

and water ski, fish and portage a canoe,

bunked with some kids from Mexico

and even faced a bear straight on.

I loved how the lights reflected in the lake

as we gathered for the Sabbath

I heard God singing in the trees

felt his breath upon me as I gazed

at his reflection rippling out from me.

 

 

One night I was particularly excited,

during the all-camp gathering to watch a movie

or some talent show,

I snuck out of the main hall in the dark

with the boy who beckoned me,

he wasn’t even the boy I was crushing on,

but he was very cute and what a catch!

What ten year old girl wouldn’t be thrilled

that an eighteen year old counselor

wanted to kiss her under the stars

cradled by the trees, feeling the foreign

sensation of his hand on her breast,

sometimes I look at pictures

of me and my group

dressed up for the 50’s dance,

jumping into the sun-warmed, still cool lake,

and think how small they looked,

they might have felt better

if he had waited a few years

because they really got bigger later on…

Did I mention he offered me a joint?

I didn’t need it, though, the kisses

and his touch were heady enough.

 

 

You can imagine my surprise

when one day about twenty years later

I drove to the movies at the Beverly Center

in my red mustang with a friend,

and as we were kibbitzing over popcorn

waiting for the feature to begin,

I saw my camp on the big screen

I actually stood up in the movie theater,

pointed and exclaimed,

that’s my camp!

Now, Hollywood being Hollywood

and Jewish geography being what it is,

serendipitously, I was invited to

the premiere, and I watched

the actor who looked just like the counselor

who felt me up

was made the hero and let go for some noble reason;

everyone has their own memory and point of view

and that writer is entitled to his.

I was a little shocked, though quietly so,

it’s taken me years to realize we’re all guilty

of glossing over the horrific parts.

 

 

So, the car I’m driving now

has really been jerking me around

it’s just not worth the price to fix it,

sometimes you have to let go

when something’s not working right,

and just get into something new

I guess I’m a suburban girl

through and through,

so much of my life

has been lived in a car,

(you know who you are)

’cause I don’t think I’m all that

forgettable, but, as I said, we all have our own stories

I often wonder what my daughter

will remember

it’s certainly not the things we own.

 

 

COPYRIGHT 2010 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com
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Prayers for a Queen to step out of her shadow

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By Dana Janine Diamond

Buried
all the pain
but it insists
on climbing through the mist
spectral fingers clawing
peering out of the mud
feeling their way
pulling us back
underground
it’s been more
so much more
it shouldn’t have been
at all
for all the little flowers
emanating light
sending wishes
like honey candles
in the blue, sugared night
I don’t know
if a new sun,
a new year
holds more promises
than the last
I don’t know
if faith works
I don’t know
what hope will bring
all my memories
are here with me now
maybe this is why
we mark time
so we can remember
our parents’ songs
so we can sing
with our children
maybe this year
I won’t be alone
on the floor
of the chapel outskirts
awash in angst and despair
maybe this year
the good
will outnumber
the pain
there is no telling.
All the intellect
and intricate beauty
brings minute comfort
in moments
such as these
the unfathomable
governs
but we rise
by uttering, recognizing,
naming
our blessings
praising gratitude
and abundant, unending love.

COPYRIGHT 2017 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Buffalo

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By Dana Janine Diamond

What did I know of poetry?
White snow and dreams
empty trees below my window
sledding and screaming in the fresh, cold air
when summer came at last,
we played in the tall,
blonde weeds
next to the creek
all the houses
were built on swampland
we had lovely duck ponds
in the yard

In the years before we wanted fences
they sat out back
in their lawn chairs on the edge
of the yard, sunning themselves
my grandmother spoke only Yiddish
her grandmother understood only Greek
they talked for hours and hours
days without purpose
other than just to be

Jazz in underground clubs
and hippies from Chicago
playing folk guitar
in my polished blue living room
I waited in the wings
while Steve sang
“City of New Orleans”
my brother was alongside him
under the spotlight
I was nine
and that’s what I knew

Manicured suburbia
with movies and Niagara Falls
donuts with powder on top
and shoplifting
in shopping malls,
Buffalo,
home of the spicy Buffalo wings
we traveled in packs
venturing into basements
and haunted houses
surreptitiously playing
Spin the Bottle
with rum and coke
I don’t ever remember
liking the boys I kissed

Every summer I drove
to Fantasy Island
with my Dad
to hear Glen Campbell
sing
and see the showgirls
lift their legs
“The Sterile Honeycomb”
he wrote.
Arthur, my brother’s friend. Before
he successfully attempted suicide.
So, I knew that poets died
and that made sense to me

I read everything he wrote
and then I started writing
at fifteen, just when my brother stopped.
he moved back home from California
I thought I could not live here
because my brother left
I thought my spot was in the wings,
waiting for songwriters
to sing
I thought I could not write poetry
and survive
I knew that good poets died
and became better ones.
I write stronger now
for having died

Here, alive in the West
Or there, at that time
Snowdrifts or Western sea line
the smell and feel of summer grass
is the same
resting quietly, close to the ground
the poet is reclaimed.


COPYRIGHT 2017 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

A Life of Stellar Resistance 

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By Dana Janine Diamond

She refuses to be led away
they take her anyway
she won’t eat, cannot sleep
sheds no tears
screams
at her fears
while her country
scoffed
and laughed
she stockpiled
mounting insights
and listened to intuition,
chronicled observations
bore witness
to travesty after distortion
mockery after destruction
kindness had to go
underground
it fled traveling by foot and freight
good rose
to Number the Stars
and the empyrean curve
wept
for generations
she lifts her banner high
regretting not seeing the signs
earlier in the day
that her homeland
wanted her to lay supine
her body, her soul, her voice
considered a throwaway
the sadness she bears
within her bones
is beyond
archaeological excavation or telescopic vision
she raises her arms
to hold the gravitational collapse
she emits light
as the sun sets
it’s essential to remember
that every star in a dark sky
is still far brighter than
the pharoah’s sun


COPYRIGHT 2017 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

A Kriah

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By Dana Janine Diamond 

When the savage
tears away the fabric
of your life,
and you find out
under the veneer
the garments are rendered,
tattered and scorned
the story becomes fable
and the truth
is grittier, far more
cruel
than one is able
to conjure
and then comes along
the knowledge ill-gained
that some aren’t made
for the difficult
their hearts are
too shallow
not built just right
and they run, scattering
in the wind
like a clothesline
left unpinned
or they simply
never
took the time
to untwine their love
so that it would unspool
like a black ribbon floating
down the center of the road
to pool plentiful at your feet
when you tried
to gather
the delicate trim
offer it back to them
it remained elusive
so, eventually you gaze
across in every direction
and find who is left
standing beside

COPYRIGHT 2016 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Service

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By Dana Janine Diamond

I sat there
calmly shouting
f*** you
in my head
over and over again
until it became a litany
a meditation
a poetic lament
to replace the one meant
for the overwhelming sin
in ploughing diamonds
invisible snow falling
down on my skin
the sun is out
a simon of hope
or an affront
I’m listening for words
to comfort the broken,
broken heart
I think you want my wrath
you in your all-knowingness
know you deserve it
it’s the best I can muster
I am a mother and child
just a Jewish poetess
you abandoned
better than ignoring you
I hold you accountable
did I commit
the iniquity
of expecting too much
from you?
am I the fool
who chose hope
for the Jews
even after the Holocaust
or the girls
even after…everything
touching my breast
al chait, the rape
I’m now looking for proof
that you love
your children
all of your children
even after slavery
I advocated for you
I sit and wonder
how we get through
the leaves are coloring
us
when I was loyal to you
though you laid
my thanksgiving table
bare
even the quiecent stars
languishing in the sky
said they were sorry
still, you
are silent
I’m not ready to forgive
surely you know
you must beg me
not for my sake
I am awake
listening
wistfully waiting
thinking,
woebegone


COPYRIGHT 2016 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com