Jerusalem Beloved

by Di Brandt

Brandt travels to Jerusalem to visit a friend and to witness the intifada of occupied Palestine."The good writers offer something new--new to them and new to you. Here Di Brandt collects three long poems that bring honour to our culture. The title sequence is a marvellous achievement. It is a love story filled with hope, yearning, beauty and sadness. I have never seen Palestine so clear."--George Bowering

Genres: Poetry

71 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1995

About the author

Di Brandt’s poetry titles include questions i asked my mother (1987), Agnes in the sky (1990), Jerusalem, beloved (1995), and most recently, Now You Care (2004). She has received numerous awards for her poetry, including the CAA National Poetry Prize, the McNally Robinson Book of the Year Award, and the Gerald Lampert Award. Di Brandt recently returned to the Manitoba prairies, her home, after a decade away, to take up a Canada Research Chair in Creative Writing at Brandon University.

Reviews

[M.W.P.M. · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jerusalem, the golden, city of my dreams,
dreaming, how i waited all my life for you,
to find you, resplendent, in the sun, your
white stones crying, with joy, Jerusalem,
beloved, lying in the Mediterranean sun,
filled with love, delirious with love, lift up
your heart & sing, my heart dancing, how i
longed for you, all my life, your streets
paved with gold, & children playing, your
diamond studded gates, your rooftops filled
with women, dancing, & flowers in their
hair, the tables laden, heavy, the air filled
with music, & feasting, my love, how i
longed for you, dreaming, my arms aching,
from the day of my birth, my birthgiving,
filled with pangs of hunger & remembering,
how i longed for you, my love, how long,
oh how long i waited for you

- Jerusalem, the golden, pg. 3

* * *

you can see it in the eyes of the waitresses, shop
keepers, tourists sauntering by. the dark place
behind the eyes where the lie is held, knowledge
twisted into forgetting, truth knotted up, inscrutable,
closed like a fist, ghosts leaping out at us, at every
corner, between these neatly renovated cobbled
streets, so many centuries of gathered hurt -

the pretence of sanctuary behind guns, & machines,
the romance of white American military might.
Goliath. Rambo. Saddam Hussein. George Bush.


the old fear crying out.

- you can see it in the eyes, pg. 15

* * *

the trees of Jerusalem, so much sadder than
Winnipeg trees, quieter, lodged between stone
walls, overlooking the noises of the street, so
much older, darker green, drawn into themselves,
no longer listening for gunshots, screams, a body
being dragged over stone, they have heard this
all before, so many times, dreaming of orchards,
birds, music, listen, the ud playing, plaintively,
in the distance, women dancing, ever so softly,
on rooftops, remembering, the promises of their
mothers, their first lovers, reconstructing, lightly,
the fantasy of heaven

- the trees of Jerusalem, pg. 25

* * *

this time i catch myself, falling, through
air, like a star, i am floating, above clouds,
lightly, feathered, against crashing, the old
cry in me a faint echo, distant, receding,
i'm falling, through air, the sun through the
clouds breaking, pink, purple, golden
against the horizon, the sun flecked leaves
trembling, the night air whispering up
from the dark earth, remembering dark
hush, this time, falling softly, into

- this time i catch myself, pg. 35

* * *

& then you were gone, on your bike, & i missed
you, foolishly, like a child, sitting on my verandah,
listening to the trees, the wind ruffling their
branches, tossing them, like hair, wildly, all over
the sky, & i was listening to them in the dark,
rustling, thinking about you, how you were gone,
suddenly, on your bike, in the night, & how i wanted
you, more than anything, just then, next to me, in
my arms, our skin touching, our breath meeting, oh,
i wanted you more than anything

- & then you were gone, pg. 40

* * *

so, who are you anyway, where did you come from,
what do you want. stranger. why do you insist,
insist. why didn't you die, when the hammer hit,
when the door flew open, & the whiskey jacks came
flying in, their feather tips brushing against you, their
black and white wings, their unearthly cawing, their
dream of dying. what were you thinking of, stranger.
why didn't you go back, why on earth did you want
to stay. in spite of the danger, the smell of anger, the
rough taste of it on your tongue, burning your mouth
& nostrils. who are you, why are you here?

- so, who are you anyway, pg. 57

* * *

this is probably the last poem i will write
for you, love, ex-lover, my love, how to
gather up the threads of my longing, these
hundred days & nights, waiting for you, tie
them together in a knot, big enough to hold
me against your never coming back. these
are the last words i will write for you, tears
i will cry, sighs i will sigh. such sweetness,
such bitterness in your face & eyes, your
hot strong thighs. your mouthful of lies.

- this is probably the last poem, pg. 62

[Laura · Rating 4 out of 5]

My favourite collection of poetry by this poet so far. I love the words and images she uses although I still find the structure of her poetry feels too run on and doesn't use the page or the words to full advantage.