Tag Archives: Voice

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

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Poesie Rock

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by Dana Janine Diamond

Poetry
is supposed
to relieve the pain
as an age-old antidote
via flowing anecdotes

poems navigate
intricate canals
and pebble-filled paths,
sing out in riotous gardens
in praise of glorious romance

gondola rides
timeless, without direction
voices raised
to operatic arias
over ancient rivers,
under breathtaking bridges
awakening
vivid street murals

prayers chanting
ebb and flow, ebb and flow
gently building
invisible architecture
we sense
citrus scents surrounding us

hiding won’t write
it will only wait
you out
this life, this life, this life
when will the dreams begin

who’s to say there’s a time
and an order
the petals on the water
will drift away
more will float by

scoop them in the boat
desperate for nature’s mystery
to be near us
let the warmth trickle
through fingertips

if only we could
remember
everything
if only we could
play the film
see the sea of
everything

we could right
the wrongs in the world
we could write
the good in the world
we could believe
in ourselves

if only
we could
be feminist primitives
luminous stars
lighting our own way

we could be poets
for eternity
our souls could row
above and beyond
and through the waters
revealing our essence
to blossom

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

Purity

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By Rosie Belle Diamond

I am wind in a barrel
rain in a cloud
the moon coalescing with the sun
Hope
drifting through the dark
Love
raging wild
dust dampening the dewy grass
a rose
dying in the light
I wait
for the seeds to rest upon my fist
the thorns ceasing on my last
breath
Then I grow again
weeds spreading
basking in the everglow
I am the contrast of purity
yet seem to be echoing the very
essence
within virtue, I rest myself
serenity I claim at last
God, can you hear me?
I am widening for your heavy blow
I feel the softness of your voice
I listen, I wait, I trust
Is belief nothing?
Have I become unholy enough?
Has the erosion of my ecstacy
numbed the fire of your warmth
I have shattered into dust
unwilling to form the new bliss
I breach myself
Do I not deserve your love?
Your favor
Your power of rebirth
I am not soul, but human
and I do not avow my strength
until I am needed
Do you need me?
If I am not worthless, why have you cast such a dark vessel
on my lightly weighed path
I may be full of passion, but I am
human
and you are God
So pray for me, God!
Pray for my soul, my 
stubborn heart,
and this unruly justice
for love is not a rose
though we grow with love 
in unity
am I still whole?
I am the contrast of purity
portraying the essence within

COPYRIGHT 2016 Rosie Belle Diamond ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. See Copyright Notice pertaining to thejewishpoetess.wordpress.com

These Days

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by Dana Janine Diamond

My triumphs are small
these days
summoning an expression
of gratitude
even though sadness pervades
invades
catching the joyous 
leap of a deer
in the woods
my dog taking me
farther than I intended
to go

Meditating on love
even in its absence
the loss of the best
of humanity
how to find it again
which of our children
will save the world
as they save us
every single day

Sweet noble knight
found his fair rose
wrote in the language
of love
the largesse of a soul
and spirit
too great to contain
in letters
wandering without borders
wondering without boundaries

Rising up
from all of history
like an exquisite
ceramic decantur
in the dirt of the dig
filling us to the brim
making us more
from the beginning and end

of time
’til this moment

J’accuse
it’s up to us now
to give voice
refrain from averting
our gaze
just a little longer
the ache is too deep
to contemplate

but morning
is the feast
of words, of a
full day of promise
the trick
is to keep traveling
the truth
is to keep
remembering

Sunlight sees us
waking through our day
speaking and writing
and finally believing
loving morning miracles

For Elie, part 1

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