Diana Cole

In her profession as a singer, Diana found herself reworking the occasional inaccurate or awkward translation of a poem. This quickly enticed her to write her own poems.
 
Moving to Rhode Island in 2011, she decided to wind down her singing career (or the other way around) and focus on writing and stained glass. Stepping off the stage and into the studio is an encounter with self and a more solitary world. Being a part of OSP, the networking and outreach is welcome.

Her poetry has appeared in numerous journals, including Blueline, Ibbetson Street, Poetry East, Slipstream, Spillway, Avocet and Off the Coast. She was nominated for a Pushcart Prize in 2011 and is working on her first manuscript.

Visit Diana at www.dianacole.net to learn more about her, about her poetry and her stained glass work.

Diana's Poetry
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Morning Glories

         Graffiti along the Northeast Corridor 

They spread at night, gigantic blooms,
blue and red and dark edged white. 
Tendrils, looping loosely,
climb concrete walls and trestles,
thrive along the metal ridges
of an abandoned factory. 

They blossom under bridges, infiltrate tunnels:
lobes of rounded r’s and s’s
densely packed against each other,
sudden spikes, zigzag deviations,
cryptic and arcane.
havek   exra  ​


​Who are these authors without authority
who cultivate barren places? 
A group of kids mouthing off, flashing metal cans,
aiming to drain their rage in a tirade of red
or one alone, who, with an exhilaration and steady hand,
rooted in the summer night shadows of a bare wall,
spirals a stream of brilliant blue? 
caem   sag

Traveling a train along the dismal edge of cities
where backyards accumulate
and much is stashed, shoved aside,
where trash is caught in fences,
and what’s left of pine trees is half dead, rust red;
I am eager for these insurgent signs
that slow dance by the moon,
explode in morning glory.

First Published in Ibbetson Street 2006
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