We were asked to write about winter or cold. Poets went from temperatures to coldness of heart to…
COLD AS A SWASTIKA
And when they had gathered all the books
Works of Jewish and other subversive writers
Thoughts of Einstein
Dark musings of playwright Bertolt Brecht
(every time you hum “Mack the Knife,” remember him)
Lenin, Trotsky, Zola (politics)
From Sigmund Freud to Ernest Hemingway
Ironically, Jack London’s Arctic went into the pile
And then the pyre – everyone pulled out matches to participate in
a funeral worthy of a ship-bound Viking
The death of thousands of words
too dangerous to read
Thoughts polluting the minds of
pure-blooded, ‘real’ Germans
The chill pored over intellectuals
Jews and Christians alike
Frozen in time, these works
Alive elsewhere, but here during the Nazi regime
forbidden fruit
Icewater veins of torch-wielding youth
who, had they read the books
might have understood what was going wrong
Here, in America
that same icy atmosphere prevails
over “Harry Potter”
over “Huck Finn”
over “Catcher in the Rye”
We don’t burn ’em; we ban ’em
And the North wind keeps on blowing
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
The prompt at We Write Poems was Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow. Bleak but possible. Amy
AND SO IT ENDS
Yesterday
the flash filled the evening sky
blinding us at first
A fireball, unearthly and
something told me to hold my breath as long as I could
Then came strong hot winds from the North
and with it, ash, falling slower than snow
suspended in deathly calm air
the stillness, the dreamlike atmosphere
Today we’re still waiting for Mom and Dad to
come home from work
The generator is working but we’ll need fuel
Tommy said Let’s see what’s up in town
People were stealing stuff from the store
No one was at the checkout so we came away with
cans of fruit and Spaghettios, juice, milk
some eggs that weren’t smashed in the carton
The ice cream melted overnight
We drank it out of the carton
and chugged warm soda trudging back home
through sifting ash in the middle of the street
Tomorrow I pray I wake up
and it will all be a bad dream
But Tommy and Sandy are counting on me
til our folks get home
Sandy cried tonight because SpongeBob wasn’t on TV
(nothing was on TV, I checked)
Tommy hauls out board games we haven’t played
since we got the X-Box
We roll the dice
and wait
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
PalinDrone
I ran for Vice President
while killing a moose with an assault rifle
from a helicopter
during labor for my 28th child!
But my daughter flunked her abstinence class
While not as glamorous as the White House
Fox News gives me lots of air time
I go to lots of Tea Parties
and I finally got rid of Todd
Running for President? I’ll get back to ya!
I like to shop at consignment stores
like Bonwit Teller, you betcha
and Macy’s and Tiffany’s
But my favorite accessory is Trig
I carry him around like a badge
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
written for the Pyramid prompt at Poetic Asides
READY FOR A ROWDY REUNION
Driving for days, crossing America
to see her
Once my baby, now herself
Visiting friends on the road
Taking my time
Knowing at this journey’s end
We will be together again
Hugs so hard
Laughing, crying, ready for anything
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
From my friend Buddah Moskowitz. Sometimes it’s a good idea to ask straightforward questions of friends and fellow poets, so please recopy this list to Word, add responses, and comment! I’ll do the same for you.
01) Are you currently in a serious relationship?
02) What was your dream growing up?
03) What talent do you wish you had?
04) If I bought you a drink what would it be?
05) Favourite vegetable?
06) What was the last book you read?
07) What zodiac sign are you?
08) Any Tattoos and/or Piercings? Explain where.
09) Worst Habit?
10) If you saw me walking down the street would you offer me a ride?
11) What is your favourite sport?
12) Do you have a Pessimistic or Optimistic attitude?
13) What would you do if you were stuck in an elevator with me?
14) Worst thing to ever happen to you?
15) Tell me one weird fact about you.
16) Do you have any pets?
17) What if I showed up at your house unexpectedly?
18) What was your first impression of me?
19) Do you think clowns are cute or scary?
20) If you could change one thing about how you look, what would it be?
21) Would you be my crime partner or my conscience?
22) What colour eyes do you have?
23) Ever been arrested?
24) Bottle or can soda?
25) If you won $10,000 today, what would you do with it?
26) What’s your favourite place to hang out at?
27) Do you believe in ghosts?
28) Favourite thing to do in your spare time?
29) Do you swear a lot?
30) Biggest pet peeve?
31) In one word, how would you describe yourself?
32) Do you believe/appreciate romance?
33) Favourite and least favourite food?
34) Do you believe in God?
35) Will you repost this so I can fill it out and do the same for you?
Of all sources, this one spoke to me with dignity and a bit of whimsy!
BELLY BUTTON
Fetal feeding
Umbilical cord
Source of nutrition
and of comfort
Baby born
Cord falls away and
a belly button is created
Innie or outie
Great for gazing
when depressed
Fun to fill with chocolate syrup
during sex
When you’re young
It is quite round
During pregancy
It disappears along with your waistline
When you’re old
It inverts from years of living
and frowns at you (
from the dreaded mirror
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
TAKING IT WITH THEM
The girls are taking it with them
The secret shame, the reasons why
The scattered scars of late-night carving
The feeling fat starved unpopular neglected
Unprotected sex with unworthy boys
One took the bun and the oven too
They’ve left it all behind
School, grades, finals, college apps
Took off debt-free; no degree, no debris
No suitcases or makeup bags
No books or beanie babies collected at the mall
perhaps on weekends when they still hung with girlfriends
The farm is minus one pair of helping hands
And the family room, one less Bills fan
The market, one less cashier
The camp, one less counselor
Their school stripped their lockers of all reminders
and called in counselors because
Two girls left our town forever this month
No notes, no clues, no cries for help, no cues
Each in her own way on a different day, in a different way
Finally having their say: This is my life and I’ll do what I want
And that they did – one with drugs, one with a rope out back
They’re gone and they took it all with them
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Bobby Francavillo, an old school buddy, turned me on to this young singer/songwriter. She’s phenomenal and so is her story… look her up on YouTube for an interview about how, after a car accident left her unable to walk, holistically working 24/7 on her music helped her neurons reconnect her brain and legs, which has enabled her to enjoy a rich, full life. Her voice is like… if Jean Arthur could sing. I cannot say enough about her talent, nor thank Bobby enough for mentioning her on FaceBook. I’ve bought 2 of her releases, and she saved MY mental health in a crowded layover at NYC’s Penn Station. Proof positive that magic is all around us, healing comes in many forms, and friends are meant to share the best things in life.
MELODY GARDOT
Penn Station cacophony
The really big noise of
crunchy humanity made moist
by lack of air conditioning
Bad tempers, worse hygiene that
fails to be tamed by perfumes
each more putrid than the last
and all available at WalMart
I park my pack, stack my stash
under weathered and weary sandals
Pull out headphones, cause
it’s gonna be a long layover
Wheel the reel of my IPod to
Melody Gardot, she of the
quirky scat, scratched slightly
broken voice, sleek songs
Eyes closed. I serenely
accept this comfort
as it’s offered up
in her lazy tones, slowly
Crabby folks suddenly wash away
in a flood of lush love songs
Colors appear beneath my eyelids
Vivid purples and greens
Audio visual mental lava lamp
undulating, glowing jazz
In the midst of Amtrak chaos
Suddenly, vibrant beauty
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
The prompt today was “After the Rain.” Took it to this past weekend in water-starved Philly; a mudslide in Topanga Canyon; and a flood in Attica, in which two people lost their lives trying to save animals from a vet’s office. But this one seemed apropos for today.
SALT WATER TORRENTIAL
Tears flow steadily surely certainly
Tissues stack teetering telling toppling
Therapist listens nodding knowing nudging
Time passes slowly softly swiftly
Tourist wonders why when how
she was brought to this strange place
of salt water headaches
of stories that go bump in the night
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
My father could recite whole works of Robert Service, Rudyard Kipling… but oy, when he sang…
REALLY, REALLY BAD SINGER
Dad sang off key
Really off key. Tragically, even.
He dwelt among women who were
descended from sirens
A wife and three daughters
gifted by God with a keen sense of pitch
and an irrepressible desire to sing
Pop couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket
but he sang along anyway
(oblivious to our pinched noses and wincing)
(yeah, we were pretty snobbish, but only where music was concerned)
He also snapped his fingers out of time
as if completely unaware that rhythm had meaning
“You sing like Dad” was a grave insult
tantamount to an accusation of
letting loose a juicy fart in the car
or getting caught picking your nose
But when Dad sang, he did light up
While we suffered for art, mercifully critiquing each other
never satisfied with the result
Dad would burst into “Mule Train” with gusto
or grin as he stumbled through “Ghost Riders in the Sky”
He never knew he couldn’t sing
He just did it anyway
He didn’t care if anybody liked it or not
A life lesson in Q Flat
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 