Garden of Weeds
It can start with anything
A feather caught in a curling freefall
That cardinal pecking at my window
The random assemblage of spices
jumbled on the shelf – one tumbles me
awake, ablaze with cardamom coincidence
Mom’s spirit sharing coffee with me
telling stories from where she now resides
in heaven, and thisclose
Even bad memories stir me
dredge, sift, filtering through
my bones, seeping to the nerves
A prophet once told me that
love is everywhere
So is truth
So is pain
So is amazement
So is amusement
So is romance
So is anger…
despair …
relief
So it’s time
to reach for my journal
and sprout another plant
for my garden of weeds
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For Poetic Bloomings, better late than never! Marie and Walt called for poems about SEEDS… seeds to plant, to nurture; seeds of poetry and other art… the beginning little “oomph” that pushes one to action.
Photo from Vishwasaha on WordPress. The PROPHET is named Marques Bovre, who also composed a lovely song called “Dandelion.” He’s been through cancer threatment and half the known world is praying for him. He’s on the upswing, but add him to YOUR list if you’re the praying type. Peace, Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 
Polly Robinson
The line ‘ablaze with cardamom coincidence’ really appeals to me – nice piece
Sharp Little Pencil
Polly, that line came during the edit to keyboard, and out of nowhere. I think it’s because our new housemate cooks a lot of Indian food, but yes, I was happy with it, too. Glad you liked it! Peace, Amy
brian miller
plant those seeds with your pen ma’am…it can start anywhere…and does…smiles…
Sharp Little Pencil
I’m a-plantin’ but they sometimes ain’t a-sproutin. Maybe I water them too much (with tears!). Thanks, my friend. Amy
Lance
My late grandmother once told me “if you don’t keep up your garden, the weeds and the bugs will kill it”. I thought she was talking about her tomato plants and grass. Now I know she was talking about inner demons and people.
Sharp Little Pencil
Lance, grandmothers have a tendency to be write twice. What is true of the garden is true of the wider world… but most young people aren’t savvy enough to see the wisdom beyond the obvious. Good on you! Amy
Semaphore / Samuel Peralta
There are few things I love more than an ars poetica – a poem about the art of poetry itself – and so I am pleased to stumble onto this poem, with its assemblage of spices and emotions, lyrical about the beginnings of inspiration.
Sharp Little Pencil
Sam, thank Marie Elena and Walt for the inspiration from their prompt, Seeds. I have a bunch of poems tagged or “subject” tagged “The Work of the Poet.” The process is so different for each of us, I feel it’s an important part of the work, to show each other how we work. Thanks for another insightful comment. Peace, Amy
Diane Turner
What a lovely piece. Great use of simile and just a poignant, stirring poem.
Thanks for sharing.
Sharp Little Pencil
Diane, thanks so much for this. I’m coming over to see what’s up on your side of the fence now! Peace, Amy
Sharp Little Pencil
Darn, you don’t appear to have a blog, unless you left that space empty… sorry, guess I’ll see you another time!
Steve E
Amy, I agree with your prophet, M Bovre. Also, that your mother resides ‘thisclose” fits with truth as it seems to me.
My garden of weeds is equally so beautiful. “Only God can make a weed’??
What I do not like about some weeds is that they think theirs is the “only” way, no thought that another may be right (for a change). The weeds I know sort of take over, killing everything within root-shot.
Be sure that I like what you write. thanks!
Sharp Little Pencil
Steve, as always, I am gobsmacked by your enthusiasm! I agree, sometimes weeds choke out the natural ambience… this is because of globalization. Asian and other plants, as well as those damned fly-up-and-smack-you-in-the-face carp, are invasive. There’s a purple thing growing here in Wisconsin that, if you try to cut it out by day, leaks a sap that burns your skin. Can only be cut at night. Eew, vampire plants in reverse! Thanks, hon… Amy
poetcolette
thisclose. . .
that’scool!
Sharp Little Pencil
Actually the phrase was used in a song I wrote called, ‘Heaven,’ about explaining to a three-year-old Riley where Grandma had gone after the funeral. I wasn’t a “believer” per se, but it’s true: When I need Mama, I can almost smell her cologne. Thanks, honey. Amy
kaykuala
Very philosophical and thought provoking, it’s all there! Great write Amy! Yes, our garden of weeds poisoning our minds need nurturing. Not many realize that. Glad you brought it out in the open, a timely reminder!
Hank
Sharp Little Pencil
My weeds… not sure they are poisonous, because I love weeds! (Not “weed,” ha ha) But sometimes it’s kudzu and yes, that can occupy your entire brain. Perhaps kudzu is the plant equivalent of depression? Thanks, Hank! Peace, Amy
Renee Espriu
You actually cause my eyes to think this image of the dandelions is a real bouquet. I had to shake my head and then realize coupled with your words, anything can be beautiful. Nice piece. I have all those fighting cancer or who are doing better held in my heart. Thank You!
Sharp Little Pencil
Renee, so glad your friends are doing well. And yes, I have presented bouquets of dandelions to my mom in past years, our private joke. Dandelions are tenacious, lovely to look at, and derided by those who manicure their lawns. For Mom and me, they were wonderful, ubiquitous troublemakers that we took great delight in seeing! Peace, Amy
http://jesterqueen.com
I loved ‘cardamom conscience’, which made me think of strong cool smells and Indian cooking. Thus, I imagined strong memories dictating your conscience.
Probably, you just meant it for the alliteration, but that’s what it did to my brain.
Sharp Little Pencil
Actually, Jester, our housemate Monica cooks a lot of Indian food, and this was wafting up the stairs into my room… that’s where the spark came from! And the aliiteration was like a bit of dessert…! Amy
purplepeninportland
Sprout away, Amy. I always look forward to your blooms.
Sharp Little Pencil
PIP, thanks so much for the lovely comment! Amy
Debbie
Ah Amy . . .your writing just keeps getting better and better! Loved this!
Sharp Little Pencil
Deb, I thought this would be to your liking! Optimism rules… Amy
henryclemmons
Of all that is good about this, I love the honesty of your voice. I believe you believe what you write. Memories can spark from anything and usually end up as notes in a journal to be shared or remembered again later from that moments perspective. A very nice poem.
Sharp Little Pencil
Henry, an astute comment. My aunt once told me she like receiving my letters because “they sound like you’re talking; I can almost hear your voice.”
I’m not capable of taking on what I don’t know. It’s not in my DNA. At best, you’ll find some composites of people, especially in my hippie/stoner poems, because I wouldn’t want to embarrass anyone. So thanks for a wonderful insight into my work, Henry. Peace, Amy
claudia
sometimes it takes not much to start that writing flow in our head…that’s one of the things i love about writing, that we can take the things that enjoy, surprise, bother us and turn them into poetry.. that prophet is a wise man…and glad to hear that he’s on the upswing as well
Sharp Little Pencil
Claudia, I agree; I consider artists, poets, musicians, and other creative types the luckiest people on earth. We don’t simply FEEL: We do something with that feeling, something that may perhaps help someone else relate to life in general. Thanks for a great observation. And yes, Marques is planning a concert to celebrate his 50th birthday, something the doctors told him he’d probably never see. What do doctors know of the lion-hearted? Peace, Amy
ManicDdaily
A lovely evocative poem–all those things so present as you say. k.
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks so much, Manic… and I’m a manic depressive, so I love, love your blog title. Now to run off and visit your blog! Amy
Joseph Harker
Dropping by after my self-imposed blog exile to say: digging the concept behind this, and must catch up on your other recent work. Good to see you keeping the spirit alive. 🙂
Sharp Little Pencil
Joseph, so glad to see you here! I, too, will visit your blog. Hope all is well with you, darlin. Just sent you a link about the WordPress SNAFU. Peace, Amy
Pamela Smyk Cleary
Love this, Amy! Especially the visuals of “A feather caught in a curling freefall”, that pecking cardinal, the “cardamom coincidence”, Mom’s spirit being “thisclose” — all lovely! Your “Garden of Weeds” is blooming nicely! 🙂 I’ve got the perfect poem to ping-pong back in return — to tie in with your free falling feather. Will post it tomorrow (and hopefully, remember to come back to provide the link!) :-))
Pamela Smyk Cleary
I remembered! Woo hoo!! (That rarely happens — in case you’re wondering.) Here’s the link (I hope!) to my poem re: “A feather caught in a curling freefall”:
http://wanponpopix.blogspot.com/2012/05/feather-in-flight.html
Hope you’re enjoying this Poetry Ping-Pong! 🙂
Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks so much, Pamela. Guess it’s my serve next at your blog! Amy