Diane Vogel Ferri is a teacher, poet and writer. Her essays have been published in Scene Magazine, Cleveland Christmas Memories, Raven’s Perch, and by Cleveland State University among others. Her poems can be found in numerous journals. Her chapbook, Liquid Rubies, was published by Pudding House. The Volume of Our Incongruity was published by Finishing Line Press. Diane’s essay, “I Will Sing for You” was featured at the Cleveland Humanities Fest in 2018. Her novel, The Desire Path can be found on Amazon. She is a graduate of Kent State University and holds an M.Ed from Cleveland State University.
Thursday, April 30, 2009
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Monday, April 27, 2009
Saturday, April 25, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
I thought Synecdoche, New York was quite brilliant and I probably should have watched it more than once to get the complete idea, but if you are up for a kind of slow but challenging film - let me know what you think!
Monday, April 20, 2009
Sunday, April 19, 2009
Saturday, April 18, 2009
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
If I Had My Life to Live Over -
I would have gone to bed when I was sick instead of pretending the earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for a day.
I would have burned the pink candle sculpted like a rose before it melted in storage.
I would have talked less and listened more.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even it the carpet was stained or the sofa faded.
I would have eaten popcorn in the "good" living room and worried much less about the dirt when someone wanted to light a fire in the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have sat on the lawn with my grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television and more while watching life.
I would never have bought something just because it was practical, wouldn't show soil, or was guaranteed to last a lifetime.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy I'd have cherished every moment and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was the only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
When my kids kissed me impetuously I would never have said,"Later, now get washed up for dinner." There would have been more "I love you's" more "I'm sorrys."
But mostly, given another shot at life I would seize every minute, look at it and really see it. Live it and never give it back. Stop sweating the small stuff!
Monday, April 13, 2009
between my feet.
It is one I have not seen before.
I have lightened myself
as much as I could so why
did I step up and look at the floor?
Denial, sacrifice, martyrdom, oh my!
I am adipose, apoplexic
Now my day is ruined
as I obsess over why.
One blissful meal and now I want to cry.
Why is it a sin to enjoy
the fruits of God's good earth?
Why does the scale take away my mirth?
I am innocent!
I don't deserve this I say.
After all, I exercised just yesterday.
You pig, you slug
into the mirror I say,
but the scale doesn't lie about how much I weigh.
Friday, April 10, 2009
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
All she could see were some thorns buried deep
Sunday, April 5, 2009
Each one is a gift, no doubt,
mysteriously placed in your waking hand
or set upon your forehead
moments before you open your eyes.
Today begins cold and bright,
the ground heavy with snow
and the thick masonry of ice,
the sun glinting off the turrets of clouds.
Through the calm eye of the window
everything is in its place
but so precariously
this day might be resting somehow
on the one before it,
all the days of the past stacked high
like the impossible tower of dishes
entertainers used to buid on stage.
No wonder you find yourself
perched on the top of a tall ladder
hoping to add one more.
Just another Wednesday,
then holding your breath,
place this cup on yesterday's saucer
without the slightest clink.