At We Write Poems, we were asked to write about a safe place, a refuge. Sometimes the best refuge is actually more like a foxhole or a bomb shelter… not necessarily bringing comfort, but warding off the enemy who is ever seeking out the vulnerable.
HIDING
When you go to bed,
always keep the covers tucked in
and lie face down between two pillows
with the sheets pulled up over your head,
hands clutching the top seam in a death grip.
He’ll never find you there.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
EN-credible! I managed to combine two – count ’em – two prompts in one poem. Others do this all the time; however, I hadn’t had the inspiration until Three Word Wednesday and ABC Wednesday threw a nice, juicy grapefruit over the plate for me.
Three Word Wednesday gave us Blink, Kind, and Occasion; ABC concentrated on the letter E. Hence the bits in BOLD. Enjoy, and be sure to click on the links above to check out the takes of my fellow poets! Amy
The Ecstasy of Agony
An eclectic gathering, the occasion being
Ethelyn’s engagement to Egbert
(AKA Egghead behind his back)
Ethelyn, an exquisite, educated person.
What possessed her to choose entanglement
of the permanent kind to this egomaniac?
Savvier than we envisioned,
she eventually emptied her life of his eccentricities;
in the blink of an eye, single once more.
Then along came Edmund the entomologist…
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At Sunday Scribblings, the prompt is “a thousand years.” Enjoy, and happy Sunday! Amy
A THOUSAND YEARS
A Fundie sighed
that if I died
today I’d go to hell
“How do you know
just where I’ll go;
and when we hear that bell?”
Until the “Rapture”
let us capture
what God bids us to do:
Doing justice
living kindness
and walking humbly, too
End it today?
Guess I’d say
I truly have no fears
I live as though
the earth will go
another thousand years
© Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Although it came to me too late for Writer’s Island, this poem found its way to me last night (and early this morning), as our cat, Gable, nestled at the foot of my bed. The prompt was “Beguile.” Better late than never! Amy
CATS (haiku)
Felines beguile us
With their soft, sweet, subtle ways
Purring, pawing, lap-nesting
© Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Take a trip to Three Word Wednesday, where this week’s challenge was to create a poem using the words Dare, Practical, and Essence. Click on the links of other poets and see the variety that emerges!
This is not a true story, by the way, except for the term “dust rhinos,” coined by my beloved Lex before we were married – at which point, I handed him a broom and said, “Go for it!” Amy
PERFECTLY ORDERED
She considered herself a practical person.
A place for everything; order ruled her world.
The little cup holding writing utensils was called,
“The Pencil Department,” setting a clear directive:
No scissors were allowed in that receptacle.
The essence of her need for these boundaries
came from (where else?) her childhood.
Mom was a gypsy tethered to a suburban home,
escaping for occasional adventures and
dragging daughter along for the ride.
Mom was not the housekeeper type;
her idea of ironing was catching Dad’s shirts
just as they came out of the dryer,
then folding faux creases in the collar and sleeves.
She only cooked frozen or canned foods.
The house was a mess, save the daughter’s room,
which sported a bedspread ready for
a drill sergeant’s quarter-toss and
neatly folded clothes, specifically spaced hangers.
All while Mom watched the soaps and drank.
Once on her own, the girl dared to let it slip a bit.
Her apartment was allowed to drift into disorder
until the day a dust rhino danced by her feet.
‘Twas then that her former, finicky self kicked into gear…
but every potential partner was repelled by her Pledge.
(c) 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At Jingle Poetry, we were asked to write about AMBITIONS. Having just moved to a new city and state (state of mind as well as geographical), I’m ALL ambition this week! Enjoy, Amy (PS What a month to move to Madison, WI! Super Bowl champs, but most importantly – no one was seriously injured. Amen.)
Making it Home
Boxes unpacked
Stuff sorta stored
Cat comfortably curled in
his new niche
Even the throw rugs and
coffee paraphernalia
have found their place
Pictures yet to hang,
but that takes
time
thoughtful placement
and permission from the wall
to be pierced by a nail
But until tonight,
as we snuggled in the delicious intimacy
of true lovers,
jigsaw pieces in a perfect fit,
this apartment was not Home.
(c) 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
… at least I hope I won’t! Voices are for pleading the cause of justice. And for singing! Thanks to Three Word Wednesday for the prompt: Abrasive, Loss, Handful
I’LL NEVER LOSE MY ABRASIVENESS
She’s always been a handful, that Barlow girl
Opinions up the wazoo
and a mouth on her, too
Not the type you’d ever want to curl
up next to for quiet talk
She’s one to squawk
about injustice, poverty, and greed
She never stops
She never drops
the subject, will never heed
warnings from friends
that this stuff ends
with FBI files, a permanent docket
She says what they can bite
if they have the appetite
Her heart is a silver locket
filled with blood and heaven
Film at eleven
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 