The One That Got Away (Kim Nelson’s Art)


Photo © Kim Nelson

The One That Got Away

Within
Gentle droplet
Humanity begins
Viewed at doctor’s, yet that same night
Taken

Woman
Mother-to-be
Seemingly, “Nevermore”
Her womb emptied by dark forces
Grief reigns
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

This poem, a cinquain (yes, I wrote a form that was not specifically requested!), for Poets United, is based on my first impression of the fabulous artwork of Kim Nelson (Poet, Artist, Blogger, and FRIEND – check out her work by clicking on her name).

Even though it’s in shades of red, my take was an ultrasound screen, with the fetal head at the top. I did have a miscarriage years ago, which probably explains the red connection, and it haunted me for so long, until I got pregnant with Riley and knew she was ‘in with Velcro.’ Peace, Amy (Proud Member, Poets United)

JUSTICE for women in oppressive regimes

These poems are dedicated to the women of Afghanistan, and I thank Kenia at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads for introducing us to the landai, the form of which is explained below in notes, along with other information. This is also on the sidebar at Poets United and at ABC Wednesday, where we are on the letter “J.” This is my favorite J word. Peace, Amy

JUSTICE for women in oppressive regimes

How can ‘women’s spirits hold up half the sky’*
when their earthbound selves swelter under the burqa

Women nurture their baby boys at swollen breasts
only to watch them grow up and oppress their mothers

I am ten paces behind my husband, I make out his shape through net
I am ten generations behind my husband – this burqa, my ceiling

She wanted only to read, write, work figures, create
Acid was tossed in my little girl’s face for this grave sin

Mullah in the madrassa, my brother’s fate in his hands
Mother in the market, her fate already decided

How can I find peace with Americans on my street
when uniforms and guns serve as their faces?

The Prophet (PBUH)** elevated women to rights and inheritance
Ayatollahs strip us of those rights and instead force upon us burqas

On a day I will never live to see, my daughter will shed her burqa,
renounce the veil, leave this town, go to university, be free

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

* Kenia encouraged cooperation and playing off one another’s landai. This line, an old Chinese proverb, was used in a landai by Sherry Blue Sky – view her collection HERE.

** “Peace Be Upon Him,” traditionally said after invoking the name of either “The Prophet” or “The Prophet Mohammed.”

NOTES: According to Kenia at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads:

“The word landai means “short, poisonous snake” in Pashto. The poems are (two lines and) collective — no single person writes a landai; a woman repeats one, shares one. It is hers and not hers. Although men do recite them, almost all are cast in the voices of women.”

I had only to think of a movie I saw yesterday, Kandahar (2001). A woman who had escaped Afghanistan years before seeks to return, as her sister has written she plans to take her own life. Based on the story of Nelofer Pazira, who stars in the movie, I was struck by how the burqas had festive colors, since the burqa itself stands as a disgrace upon the leaders of conservative nations. It is a socioeconomic stance, country by country, as to what women are allowed to wear, whether they may attend school… whether they can stay alive when they fall down and accidentally show an ankle. Another movie about the lives of women in brutal regimes, also based on a true story – tough to watch but important to witness: The Stoning of Soraya M.

Detour Ahead? (Poets U, Trifecta)

Hello, friends. I have two pieces of good news. First, my entry for the Trifecta “Week 35 Challenge,” which ran an entire month, was cited as the second-place winner – check out all three Trifecta winning entries at THIS LINK, including my friend Misky (Da winner and still champeen!!), and a new friend, Lucy Robinson Miller in third place.

Also, another great friend, Lady Nimue, edited the latest edition of the ezine, Fried Eye, and one of my poems is in there as well! So a big week, and truthfully, I needed the lift, so thanks, Nimue, for asking… and thanks to the folks at Trifecta for always having a wonderful challenge.

Detour Ahead? (an etheree)

Where
he leads
she follows
Whether he’s right
she dares not question
If she does, usual
answer, the back of his hand
Unfortunate girl, brought up by
a mother whose own questions were rare
Mirrors mock them both: Their “normal,” scarred, scared

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

For Poets United (Follow/Lead and Usual/Rare).

NOTES: An etheree is ten lines with the first line having one syllable, the second two, and so on until you have ten lines with then syllables. There are variations. I only use form when it comes easily to my theme, and I hope Viv is proud of me! (She’s seen me struggle.)

The song “Detour Ahead” was (in my opinion) best sung by Billie Holiday, and best played instrumentally by pianist Bill Evans. Just in case you were wondering where the title of the poem came from. One of my favorite songs when I was in jazz clubs.

An Unquiet Mind (for Rhymes With Tao)

An Unquiet Mind

Virginia Woolf
catching life by the throat
time and again

An unquiet mind:
Dark star, wings of madness
Tender at the bone

The words, the testament.
Far from the madding crowd
the shallows,
weeping waters

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

All titles of books from my shelves – everything from “the” book on manic depression (An Unquiet Mind) to volumes on religion, collections of poetry, and my favorite book: Time and Again by Jack Finney. For the Books On Your Shelf prompt at Rhymes With Tao. Also at my poetic place for peace of mind, for creativy, Poets United.  Peace, Amy

Wish Upon a Star

Wish Upon a Star

Remember being a kid and
wishing on a star?

I wish I can get a kitten.
I wish my sister wasn’t so mean.

I wish Mike in 7th period English liked me.
I wish my parents would stop fighting.

When I was a child
I wished as a child…

Now I wish for Fukushima
to be cooled, calmed, and collected

I wish for the Middle East to be at peace.
(Hey, I dream big)

I wish Rush Limbaugh would fade
into the obscurity he so richly deserves

I wish young girls would focus on their brains
and that Jon-Benetathons would vanish

I wish racists would grow
hearts… and minds

I wish on the wind for power
and for fracking to cease

I wish for women to be accorded
the rights and respect we deserve

I wish for justice for all, especially kids
For the world to be fed, clothed

This year, Jupiter is larger and
more visible than we’ll ever see it again.

So I focus on Jupiter,
shining bright in the night sky

If you want to heal a planet,
might as well wish on another planet

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For the Thursday Think Tank at my poetic space station, Poets United, where the prompt was “Wish.”

Free Spirit Speaks (couplets for dverse)

FREE SPIRIT SPEAKS

You knew this about me before we first met
True, I’m your companion, but nobody’s pet

No leash will I wear, nor “She Is Mine” collar
So what, when I wander, gives you right to holler?

Can’t Alpha Male Tantrum me into submission
Rant all you want to, but it’s my tradition

A part of my birthright – we’re radical women
His water is warmer… and I’m goin’ swimmin’

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For dverse Form For All: Framed Couplets (first and last words must rhyme in each couplet!)

Also at my poetic hearth and home, Poets United.

Photo courtesy of Superstock.com, providing free images (for the time being!).

Refractions (PAD, Day 3)

Refractions

Recounting the reflexes
that led to down and out.
Remembering that December,
the thin coat, the glances
of passersby wondering why
the girl who was talking
to herself had not found
a warm shelf on which to perch,
the chilled canary fairy without wings.

Ruffles her feathers that they might
have thought of her so.
Regretting the rejection by men
after they’d had their fill, having
sucked her soul from within its
sand castle, the frailty of her ego.

She winding-wanders on but
pauses at odd moments to reflect.

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

National Poetry Month, Day Three! One more take on Sunday Scribblings’ prompt, Reflect. Also hangin’ with my kin at Poets United: Scroll down their right column and meet some amazing poets! Peace, Amy

Sr. Elizabeth and Babylon – 400th Post!

This my 400th post at WordPress! To celebrate, I purchased the official site name, “sharplittlepencil.com” – but don’t worry; your old links will still forward to this address. Here is a song and with it, a true story that resulted from my posting the link on YouTube. My friends and former partners in music ministry, Kathy Smith and Corrine Crook of Our Saviour Lutheran Church in Endwell, NY, joined me at Tranquil Bar and Bistro in an impromptu rendition of “Rivers of Babylon,” as captured by my friend George Bezushko’s phone cam.   Peace, Amy

Sister Elizabeth and Babylon

African-American, Benedictine cloistered nun
writes letter to
Anglo-American jazz singer
asking for transcription of a song
she found on the Web.

Most of the sisters, Anglo as well,
sing a capella;
African influences will flavor the praise.
And so singer finds a hand-written copy
Sends it with note: “…and I’m married to a pastor!”

God’s work is never done
so effectively
as when women combine their own desires
with others’ can-do attitudes to create
a new kind of unity, crossing divides.

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For dverse poets Open Mic Night and Poets United

Living Love (for Kate)

Living Love (for Kate)

So far down on his luck, he’s under it.
Literally.
Living beneath a bridge called Home.

Gathering other folks’ flotsam by day
to make do, then retreating to his camp
where he sleeps unmolested each night.

From her window, she spies the man.
She ventures out, offers some food, scopes out
the soul hiding underneath his misfortune.

They don’t talk much, but then,
true generosity is not a grand, chatty deal.
Her gifts are met with quiet gratitude.

She buys him a propane grill and this and that.
He probably needs psych help, but she’ll never
push – so easy to scare a rabbit from its hutch.

She says, “When the president came to Madison,
he drove right over that bridge.”  The irony
is thick as brick, and just as heavy.

That’s not a troll under there; no beast from
a Grimm tale.  He’s a human being.  And she
acts out of the words of Jesus, quietly.

She lives out of love.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

For Sunday Scribblings; the prompt was “investigate.”  Iif Kate had never checked out this man and his circumstances, she’d never have had the chance to help him. Also posted at the wonderful Poets United.

Artistic (for Riley)

Artistic
(For Riley)

She was a quiet, hidden way about her.
She may seem strident to some
but her shell protects her from
the piercing lens of the world.

Girl. Canvas. In the perfect light of a
beachside studio, her energy
is reignited. Perhaps warm, salty
air emits creative power.

She pitches in: Cerulean and Sand,
Viridian, a hint of Ivory, a
swish of vivid Magenta, a few
Ebony-dappled accents. No one can

imagine the sublime delirium,
this torrid tango of perfect partners.
Part duel, part puzzling rendezvous.
Her brow furrowing into a pleat

as she is lost in the swirl of brushstrokes.
She’s found a new way to express
what she feels, her profound nature.
Longing becomes art.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For the Sunday Whirl and my poetic touchstone, Poets United.
The Wordle included: Reignite, emit, delirium, air, piercing, swish, dappled, pleat, seem, strident, pitch, shell.

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