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Best Poems Written by Seth Diamond

Below are the all-time best Seth Diamond poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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The Waiting Game

THE WAITING GAME

I'm playing the waiting game,
not futilely nor waiting in vain.
My delivery, my parcel my expectation;
forces me to ambulation. 

I want it now,
my elixir my kisser; 
sit and lull for the lister; 
who swore to me a delivery vow.

For what do I wait,
as the hours grow late?
And why won't it come now!
Anticipation sloths, it insists I allow,
as time cannot expedite it's rate,
Heavens! give it to me now!

When the bloody hell will it be,
is some great force slowing delivery?
I must have it.
I cannot wait one bit. 
Wait! I make no demand; we did agree.
My tactic is only made idly,  
and can wait out eternity.

Ooohhhhh when I have it in hand!
Patience called into my spirit land.
I am closer, I count clock's tick's; 
Calm. Tools down.
For it will come around,
as it was assured by honor bound.
Can you relate to this, my expound?
Then I can be more comfortably sound.

The duration of stagnation calls for liberation
with such I am spared ruination
I've gone through elation and vexation and frustration, 
Yet yes, I will have my placation.
This trial and tribulation is vocation of sedation and stagnation. 
An empty marathon that knows not capitulation.
I will have my unification.
My determination matches my frustration across the duration.
In the end I sidestep ruination and have my elation.

Details | Seth Diamond Poem

A Maiden, Crone and Goddess

THE MAIDEN:
My little Juliette,
my hand floating over her back;
and her tiny hand with mine.
Now, we all sing songs to Capulet.
And they all pause;
they are enthralled.

Younger lads know their remedy;
no, not strong drink -
whatever you think.
But, like if the gleaming sun is her virginity;
that power of light is her affinity.

In the late hour,
I did inspire her,
in her bower,
her bosom to bloom and blossom.

I saw she and she me,
with a wide look of glee,
wild eyes and heartbeats of jubilee.
She was not toward I, nor I to her, persnickety.
We fell fast together, authentically.


THE CRONE:
That crone, witch and total %#&^%.
She made everything a hitch,
and brought today's sorrow,
and brings more curses the morrow.

Her. In The Brothel.
She is there in every hovel.
Her coiled brown hair,
that brings my passions to bare.
The desires all around us.

'Why does she bother' you ask?
Her nails pushing and rummaging
under my skin,
raking the hair of my arms.

I can smell her now.
Her soft perfumes.
And.  Also.
It is night.
And so she wrapped me tight,
yet it was all hollow.
I wish I could forget it now.

THE GODDESS:
And there!  The goddess in the pale moon,
she walks and talks and makes the willows swoon.
She walks and talks to me,
and causes romance to loom.

The way sunlight moves around her hair,
and the breezes that pushes against her form.
The gold of sunshine in the tall grasses,
where we did roam.

The Pixies sit up there,
over the brook.
In the trees, at night,
above her shoulders,
while the water laps moonlight.

The smell of pines and saplings,
and the colors,
glaring off the ice, and,
the never ending sheens of summer.
Her hand in mine.

S.M. Diamond
7/01/2019

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The Countess Close

The violet tress of clover blossom,
marks the countess' winter solemn.
Her sorrow,
her cardinal wanton 
for her prince,
falsely in prison.

There is no respite to her yearning.
There is no satiation to her craving.
There is no solvency to her predilection.
There is no end to her attraction. 
There is no limit to her aspiration,
for her prince falsely in prison.

Her womb, her castle;
her vessel for seas
all barren wantonly.
Her ire turn rage.
Her wisdom lost sage.
For her prince caught trickily,
placed falsely in prison.

She thrusts her fists at the gyre.
She spins insults into coarse wire.
She wears poultices upon her attire.
Her paces a failed amble.
Her songs bell book and candle.
All to respite and retire,
her work to free entire,
her prince falsely in prison.

But times sands grow heavy on her face,
that turned to fright.
Her garden grows weeds then blight.
Her beauty fades from tensions tight.
Her loneliness becomes vulgar each night.
Her stolen union vanquished by mages.
Her desires robbed in vista mazes.
She stumbles through tomes and pages.
Lost now she babbles to rhythmic chorus. 
Casts her blood and bruises;
casts her spirit into blazes.
Casts her lot where her grave's cleave raises.
Now no longer can she impart creation,
for her prince falsely in prison.

Details | Seth Diamond Poem

Regretting Cake

Written for the contest "Regretting Cake"

The drunken groom,
was in his bedroom,
as I had my cake with his bride.
And in hindsight I would chide 
myself for charming, smiling,
and to her causing alarming
intimation of satiation loom.

His best man and kin,
were coaxing his skin,
into the nuptial shower.
But the party slowed the last hour,
and the cake sugar did empower
our energy to sin.
And with wine our heads did spin.

She smeared cake on my face,
and I knew it was disgrace,
when she stopped me from wiping it clean.
She took me behind the dais scene.
Into a bathroom and on the sink did lean.
Without a thought I took her fast pace,
and winked a toast to the groom through her veil lace.
8/1/16

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That That

That that, which so softly,
that that by her smiles, giggles and sighs.
And that that, which is sooo around me.
That that. That which is clear in our eyes.
That that she moved me like the tides,
and also that, that of her softness and sweet breath -
and still then,
that, that...  we were so alive.
That that smell of her neck,
and that that about her pits.
That's that - she's made me fritz. 
My little butterfly.

Details | Seth Diamond Poem

Finding Your Way

Finding Your Way

On the beach are grains of sand,
one will be of pure gold,
but you cannot see it.

In the field are stalks of grain,
one is a perfect mutant,
but you cannot find it.

At yeshiva there is a learned child,
smarter than the teachers,
but they cannot recognize it.

In the world there is reason to hope,
the surface is all despair,
but you cannot sense it.

Inside you is happiness.
You know not how to navigate,
but you can find the path.
See it, find it, recognize it, sense it,
Only then you are on your way.

Details | Seth Diamond Poem

Empty Spaces

Empty Spaces

I would,
to satisfy
my love for you -
fill your empty spaces.

To show your wonder,
all the prose there is.
To fill your wounds with health.
Your passions abated.

Details | Seth Diamond Poem

Bougainvillea

There beside her in Cornish Wales,
like a fairy in pixie tales,
flew down the water's fall.
A water pall off the granite wall.
A waterfall wreathed in Bougainvillea.  

There we sat in the highland haze,
where mists surrounds us like a maze,
for our heads to swell in, 
and focused our grins,
while we were around our breezes and showers.
Where the waterfalls turns pinks and greens from Bougainvillea.

The full blossom and the summer breeze
in which that moment haunts my memories.
And there where the mists linger forever,
in the midst of the mists we shared a kiss,
While the late noon moon did bless,
us smelling the fresh leaves and buds of Bougainvillea.

See, she wore the flowers,
which excites and empowers,
and I wrapped some around her head.
She took my head instead
and kissed me the longer.
Her flower's scents empowered me stronger
and my hands next to hers.
In that time we had breathing in the Bougainvillea.

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Halloween

HALLOWEEN

it was no bump in the night
a ghostly hand on mine caused fright
the slow click of a bicycle wheel made me tight
the wind blowing it around with eerie might
my eyes won't adjust to light
every impulse says something is not right

creeping cat paws don't touch the ground
so bizarre they make no sound
a deathly howl comes from a hound
I can not turn around
I stumble over a burial mound
and run from where the ghouls abound

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A Tyrant's Respondent

A Tyrant's Respondent

If a tyrant has no power;
then tease him.
If he has few followers;
then mock them.
If a tyrant's men try usurpation;
then slaughter them.
And when he is elected;
then escape as far away,
as you can flee;
leaving friends, family, appointments, property.
The only way to save your life is to leave it behind.
Most importantly is to leave immediately!
Those who don't see what you see,
die.  So most pertinently 
leave behind that sentimentality.
That is how to deal with tyranny.