Ah, the beloved Wordle landed once again at Big Tent Poetry. Like a Rubik’s cube of words, except there is no right or wrong way to assemble it. Check out Big Tent to see others’ work. Peace, Amy
Parade of Smiles (Big Tent Poetry)
The parade of smiles, boyish slips of things
that turn out to be teenage girls,
seems to defy explanation.
I gasp as they slump by,
stick figures who should be
waking to full womanhood.
I question silently their choices
of salad over Chinese in the food court
and hope they get enough protein and fats.
My daughter’s love of moccachinos speaks volumes
about her state of mind and body.
She may be a tangle of emotions…
but her body is aflame with curves.
Thighs with musculature and form;
she is aware of herself and fully awake.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter “G.” Silly and fun – what I imagine Blanche Laughlin would be if she were alive today – glued to my cousin Gregg’s computer! Amy
Grandma Googles
Goodness gracious,
Grandma’s gone Google!
Grinning before Greggie’s gizmo,
a grand gadabout without
the gas-guzzling Greyhound .
Grannie’s grey but full of ginger;
fingers glide with gusto as she
gets to tour the Guggenheim
in its glory and grandeur, gushing,
“Gracias, ye gods of gigabytes!”
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At We Write Poems, we were asked to write about a guardian angel. I have always known mine, but in this particular circumstance, I do believe she nearly saved my life. Filed under “Amy: The Lost Years.”
Who Did I Hear?
We’re hangin’ out back
in a converted garage
that is tacky but serves
as a home, for now.
Rafters overhead hold
mic stands that belong to
The New Riders of the Purple Sage
(I can’t make this stuff up).
I’m comfy on a couch but
suddenly extremely thirsty.
Someone offers me a beer
from the lukewarm coffin,
but I need something cold.
RIGHT AWAY. Can’t say
what’s in my brain, but I
jump up and go out the door.
Two seconds later, CRASH!
And looking at the couch
where I was sitting moments before,
a mic stand had fallen, base first.
If you ever lifted one of those suckers,
you know they’re damned heavy,
plus it shattered a framed picture
on its way to my former nest.
Something, someone told me,
YOU NEED TO MOVE NOW.
Must have been my grandma Blanche,
who knew all about brain trauma…
…and the need for a really cold beer.
(c) 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Dallying on Writer’s Island is a pursuit every poet should indulge in. This week’s theme, “Improvise.” Yeah, like I’ve never done that! Amy
Fill In The Blank (Writer’s Island, “Improvise”)
So I arrive at my gig, hauling my rig all by myself.
I snag my stocking on a stack of speakers,
speaking in a pitch only a poodle could discern, “!!#*$!!”
Into the Ladies’ cause I don’t wanna start late,
I rummage through the rucksack that
passes for my purse.
On my thigh, one big hole in my black tights…
a dollop of whipped cream on an otherwise
dark-chocolate-frosted plane.
Dredging up a Sharpie, I fill in the blank, then
sketch in the run, the pen climbing
up and down a ladder.
I’ll deal with scrubbing it off tomorrow;
for now, it’s beg, borrow, or steal my way to the mic
with as much dignity as stinky ink can afford me.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
This is another double prompt, courtesy of two sites from Poets United: Poetry Tow Truck (my first time there) wanted a poem based on the beginning and ending words (in caps), two lines from “At the Doll Hospital” by Robin Ekiss (from the book The Mansion of Happiness) which, when read vertically, form a full sentence. That’s the best I can do in the way of explanation… just go with it!
Also on the Poets United page, I found Sepia Saturday, and these both blend to fit the poem that follows (sorry, I can’t figure out how to recreate the picture here, but if you follow the link you’ll see it there!). Enjoy. Amy
Blanche and Bill
AMONG the regulars at the café, WHERE
SOphie and Ruth frequently stopped, their friend WILL
(MANY girls fancied him) met Ruth’s sister, Blanche. SHE,
EYES big and brown, was considered a real FIND.
FIXED them up, Sophie did, bless HER.
IN June the Blanche and Bill forever sealed their TENDERNESS.
GLASS covers their wedding portrait, where they look a bit grim,
but they laughed the same laugh and loved like no couple since.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil Continue reading
CHARMING THE SNAKE (for Thursday Tales)
He spoke only in monotones
His voice, the flute
And I, foolish cobra
drained of venom
danced to his tune
his orders
Performing at his whim
That day has passed
I found my fangs
Reclaimed my venom
And dance to my own tune
Pity the snake charmer
He is always left with
an empty basket
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
While I am editing several poems on the public protest over workers’ rights here in Madison, I need to take a break and answer a call to a prompt. Too much politics leads to personal unrest, and self-care is a huge part of successfully managing my manic depression… so meditation and writing are a big help!
At We Write Poems, we were asked to write about “safe places.” I was a rover in my twenties, and these are but a few of the places were I laid my head to rest…
Safe Havens
An unheated, leaky garage at an old rocker’s compound
A couch in a flophouse
The egg-crate pads laid on the floor of a nudist commune
Haystacks in a barn, as we helped with the harvest
Marcia and Jesse’s closet, the door unhinged (as was I),
the most comfortable vortex of all…
The beach in Venice, where I lay under an umbrella of starts
watching the slivered silver moon dance through my tripping eyes
An SRO, hot plate heating Chunky Beef Soup
Looking back at these havens, all were safe
Some were filled with love.
others with the scent of cow patties
and the sweat of an honest day’s work.
And still others bore the sweetness of smoke
from Mendocino County’s finest…
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At Three Word Wednesday, they gave us: Figure, Juicy, and Stress. (Wow, that could go in a lot of directions. Click the link and see what others have done!) Managed to combine it with ABC Wednesday, “brought to you by the letter F.” No, not THAT “F” word. Whattaya think, I’m that obvious? So, again, two prompts, one poem… from my third and “f”inal trip to the DMV with proper paperwork to secure my driver’s license! Amy
Finally Fit
Finally fit for the DMV
Forms filled out
Foto fixed (couldn’t forage the file from Friday. Go figure!)
No frustration, no fuss, stress–free
These folks, friendly and fine
Fruit-juicy satisfaction, this fact:
Finally, fully Wisconsinite!
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At Writer’s Island, the prompt is “Foretell.” This is my second of two! Enjoy a true moment… Amy
PROPHESY
Five-year-old
pulls up an ankle sock and
turns to the grown musicians
“In B Flat,” she whispers, “one-two-three-“
and launches into “K-K-K-Katy”
Two choruses, much applause
She’s found her spot:
Face to the crowd, in front of the band
Selling the song
No fortune teller could have read her palm
Nor Tarot deck have been laid
any better than this
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Super Bowl in Wisconsin 2011
Cheese
More cheese
Cheese on chips
Cheese in dips
Cube and tubed
Fried and dyed
Cheese on breads
Cheese on heads
Mixed up and fixed up
Grated and plated
Guacamole
Beer and Stoli
Microbrews
Harder booze
7-layer dips
smeared on lips
Kicker misses
Groans and hisses
Green and Gold
bright and bold
Shrieks and grins
GREEN BAY WINS!
Cheesehead’s dream
LOVE our team
© Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 