Category Archives: Poem

Calling it how I feel it

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by Dana Janine Diamond

I don’t want the Gazans
to suffer
well, perhaps not
the half million adults
who don’t like Hamas
nor the children
for the sake of
whatever childhood
they have
a strip
stripped
filled
to bursting
with human
shields
for pure
evil
such as
the world
has known
before
Before
they deliberately,
personally
murdered our babies
tore apart
their tiny bodies
with bullets and
other cruel weapons
nowhere to hide
the girls ran
but despite the music
the women were raped
Mass Rape
in
the killing fields
next to their friends’
dead bodies
taken hostage
bleeding young
women
children, babies,
dementia-addled elderly
families
boys, men
they sang
all beloved
Holocaust survivor
who didn’t survive
not in the southern border
turned Hamas slaughterhouse
not in Gaza
where Hamas’s victims
were tormented, executed
hostages
all
fodder for tik tok
and now the world waits
with breath, unbreathed
as clock
ticks down
to the consequence
of the endless
history
of hating
the Jews

and they danced
with candy
in their streets
celebrating
their terrorists
salivating
the longed, yearned
for
not peace
nor freedom
rather
the sweet
taste
of
Jewish
blood
Oh, how deliriously
happy
they were
mouths grinning
the metallic flavor
on their tongues
the acrid aroma of rage
at the outrage
that we exist.
naturally, brutality
was a cause
for celebration
who could blame them?
the Palestinians
perpetual, imperpetuity
are victims
it must be true
all the victims of the world
say it must be true
Blame the Jews

Who was Jesus
but the original self-
hating Jew
and the gospels
joined the choir
Who was Mohammed
who simultaneously killed
Jews
while befriending them
deriding them
even the little children
delighted with glee
throwing stones at Jews
true history
too many sorrows
to recount
we were burned alive
driven from every land
and
yet
and
yet
we survived
leaving everything
we loved
behind
we wandered and wandered
and wandered and wandered
too many times to count
and wondered
why the world
lacks
the utter
courage
to not blame
and hate
even secretly so
even hidden
from themselves
(because they can’t
face
themselves)
minuscule
us

Oh, cry
for the Palestinians
their humanity
is in agony
abandoned
by their brothers
and sisters
fifty Muslim countries
said no
we don’t want
you
stay put, don’t leave
don’t come
our doors are closed
your terrorists might get in
heaven forbid
let Israel take it all…
and to their disappointment
they discovered
too late
that even
the virgins in heaven
didn’t want them
all that hate
for naught

So, world,
so-called friend
and outright foe
you rally
we are singing
mourning
through the night
throughout
the morning
we grieve 
unabatedly
perhaps, maybe,
conceivably
some of you
will cry
with us
open
your lips
to pray
out loud
with us
it’s possible
a Jewish woman
can dream
and nevertheless
we regather
for now,
ultimately
revive our dead

©️ 2023 Dana Janine Diamond. All Rights Reserved. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

A different, sweet year

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By Dana Janine Diamond

The indoor life
can be fruitful
hard
as the acorns that
fall from trees
outside our windows

sometimes, often when the sun
Is too strong
we keep the curtains
closed
even that
is too vulnerable

but I can remember
every tree
I’ve seen
most of them if
not all
I recall
the wind,
the lick
of the ocean
the colors
that I loved

even though
we forgot the flowers
this year
my imagination
more than makes up for it
I never forget flowers
so that’s the year
it’s been, I suppose

instead, I’m drawn
to berries
found hidden
under the leaves
unadorned and charming
without stones
soft, small and plump
the things I like to
add for filler
have become all

is it okay
to feel the emptiness
is it sad
or simply what’s needed
to prepare for more
I think that’s
the place of contentment
as hope
slips in
the door.

©️ 2022 Dana Janine Diamond. All Rights Reserved. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

2020

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by Dana Janine Diamond

We were never free
it was a fallacy
we magically wished
to be true
we conjured up
an imagined history
to make all
seem real
we wrote songs,
dressed ourselves in parades
red, white and blue,
set off fireworks
to go boom
and yet, still
could not wake up
all the children
all the colors
we took a strap to
America, yearning to breathe free
longing for kindness

COPYRIGHT 2020 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Starburst

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By Dana Janine Diamond

In order

to encapsulate

to begin to describe

my love,

a mother’s love

for her daughter

we usually start

with the stars

I love you more

than all the stars in the sky!

We must reach beyond

our own confines of earth

and even ocean

we have to imagine love

like an energy

beyond our real comprehension,

the stars fall

and they burst with excitement

they rise and set

shine and grow

absorb and reflect

all of our wishes

aspirations

they have complex relationships

with each other

they have stories to tell

there are times

when I say

I love you to the moon and back

but the stars, the stars

appear to bloom

like roses

glimmer and sparkle

dance

lift us up

give us hope

love, love, love, this love

Once upon a time,

I said, welcome princess

and you came into being

prayers, my song pulled you

from the heavens,

your destiny was clear as day

you were meant to be a star

you’re the essence of light

you are power and joyful

resilience and comfort

luminous

stars always sing

you are everything

we look up to

for Rosie on her 18th birthday with love
COPYRIGHT 2020 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining tothejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Nu

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by Dana Janine Diamond

I would wish you a sweet new year. I always have. The memories are gone, the future unknown. We have trees and stars and pink sunrises and pink sunsets, and lights sparkling over the river that is ever moving. There is a wheel turning somewhere in the sky, dispensing mazel. We stand under it, like we do with mistletoe, our palms outstretched, ready to catch it when it falls, ready to kiss the godliness within, ready to find love. We anticipate the embrace of love.

We carry with us a pink afghan. When I was younger, I knitted a beautiful afghan, all shades of green, from dark to light. And I carried it with me, everywhere I went, from room to room in my homes. We all have many homes. Some are waiting to be found.

So, here we are, searching. Our souls are slowly moving a flashlight out over the darkness. Our ancestors have been lighting candles for thousands of years. God knows the apple’s been in play since the beginning. Oh, but the honey. If only the sweetness would cover everything, would last. I remember dipping my toes into water and feeling refreshed, exhilarated, soothed.

This year will either make us or break us. It will take all of our strength just to lift the slice of apple with our fingers, drench it in a bit of honey, and slip it into our mouth. It will be tart and sweet simultaneously. As Jews, we never forget the bitterness; it’s always there. The joy can be elusive at times.

It feels like we’re living out the same story over and over again, peering out into the distance for happiness. It could be there, just over the horizon. It could be hidden within us, because we love. The journey could really be gratitude, and so we’ve arrived.

The challah is our reminder, be grateful. It’s full, like a soft cushion. Don’t be fooled by the harder, outer surface. I tell myself this. It’s our path to joy.

If I could raise my glass, I would wish you a sweet new year. Abundant and precious, filled to the brim with new hope.

COPYRIGHT 2019 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining tothejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

We traveled here without knowing

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by Dana Janine Diamond

I don’t write anymore

I’ve lost myself

in the struggles

in the suffering

in the whiplash

of daily life

I don’t write anymore

of sweet, perfumed blossoms

of the feel of skin touching skin

air moving ever so slightly

above the clouds

where love lies nestled

I don’t write anymore

of longing

of hoping

of finding succor

I don’t even write

of brambles and gardens

of moonlight and wishes and soft skies

of summer squash and bright

carrots strewn across

the fields below

I don’t dream anymore

of hot balloon rides

of trying something new

of listening to the radio

with the windows down

I barely remember open spaces

they build little prisons for us

make it so

we barely notice

this is our home

the tears on the keys

until I don’t write anymore.

COPYRIGHT 2019 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Caught between the sun and the moon

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by Dana Janine Diamond

Low tides bring subtle pleasures

miss those days

when gentleness

washed over us

forget walking on water

and other prophecies

I’d be grateful just

to walk

in the sea

arms outstretched

to God and love

and sheer happiness

it all didn’t just

disappear

into the horizon

or follow the sunset

off the edge

there were those

who stole everything

I don’t clock sunsets

or sunrises

I don’t walk shorelines

anymore

but I will again

you may have held

your temporary victories

but the motherfuckers

won’t win

not on my watch

not with our hearts

not against our strength

you’re sinking

we’re collecting seashells

we’re floating above

the shimmering waters

we’ve got this

we are deep waters

COPYRIGHT 2019 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining tothejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

Birthday

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By Dana Janine Diamond

 

Echo, play Joni Mitchell

and I’m singing along

back in my college dorm

she cheered my love

nursed my heartbreak

I’m on my green circles couch

in my family room

with my cat and dog

waiting for

the slight scratch of the needle

as it kisses the album

listening to the music

every day after school

I barely remember what I learned

back then

but I know every song I listened to

the lyrics, oh the lyrics

they have filled my mind

for a lifetime

I ran outside in the morning

danced in the afternoon

in my living room

where my family gathered

to host book clubs

and discuss liberal politics,

my french piano in the corner

my brother played guitar

with his friends

I pontificated

about passing the ERA

knocked on doors

won debates

still, still…

gossiped on the phone

for hours with girlfriends

twisting the cord round

and round

and poetry, always poetry

I read Catcher in the Rye

in elementary school

and asked my teacher

in all innocence

what a boner was

he turned bright red

(he’s a bestselling author now

so he turned out okay)

my life is a series

of connections

the night I lost

my virginity in college

I took a long, late night walk

under the stars

in the moonlight

and the first person I saw,

told, was JD Salinger’s daughter

she congratulated me

it all makes sense

in retrospect

of course the feckless

curly, red-haired boy

broke my heart

he wanted to be a chiropractor

to this day I don’t really trust chiropractors

I loved my twenties

married the love of my life

in secret

in a pinky-peach, soft Betsy Johnson dress

he’s back running Greece now

but we talked and kissed

for hours and hours

in Village cafes

for years

I owned the streets of NY

if you ever lived there

you know what I mean

riding in limousines

to deliver champagne

gifts from Steve and Ian

thanks for keeping

them out of jail

we danced and decorated

and celebrated

and I loved Hilly

how not to,

edited stories at MS.

Gloria was luminous

God, my twenties were fun

but then the poetry called

I needed to understand

the mysteries

of this world,

walked that path

with my loyalty

to a fault

escaped, but not before

bruises on my face

on my soul

I look back and wonder

how did I endure that life?

And yet leaving religion

took all of my courage

and then some

I’ve been molested, raped, punched

spat on (fuck you Rabbi ;))

but my glowing spirit

outshines all you

could ever do

because I’m wild and precious

I’m a colorful garden

still growing

my magnificent rose

she is everything

I leave my words as rose petals

my loving gift to you

 

COPYRIGHT 2019 Dana Janine Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining tothejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

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

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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