The Greatest Aim of Humankind (an acrostic)
Pursue the beating of swords into ploughshares
Etch onto windowpanes, “The time has come”
Aiming to embrace all peoples as one family
Chanting, not dogma, but “Love,” in many tongues
Everyone will cry out, “Enough of war, time to live!”
© Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For a new site, Poetic Bloomings, to the prompt “a goal-oriented poem.” Please check out Marie and Walt’s new prompt site – I think you’ll love their pace, their vibe. This is also, as always, posted to my oasis from all chaos, Poets United.
Peace, Amy
For ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter “A as in Amy.” There were two of us on State Street today, plus a Michael and an Alex (who is probably muttering, “A is for Alex, guys”). Also posted at my fave poetry saloon, er, salon, Poets United.
After All
Old friends, long time since last
we shared a table in a café
We talk old days, school,
kids when they were anecdotal fodder
Then politics, the dumbing down of America
The Hemlock Party and educating barbarians
Unions, pros and cons
Dems, Reps, Libs, and Cons
The future… they visited Glacier Park
and saw mostly wildflowers and a bit of ice
But after all our kvetching and laughter, it ends in this:
GROUP HUG!
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter, “Z”! (Do we start on the Cyrillic alphabet now?) Also at the poetic collective, Poets United.
This poem is based on the phenomenon that effectively destroyed my piano-bar career… Amy
Zithromax (Think Before Lighting Up Indoors)
A smoky club, the trapped wait staff
take your orders and get the shaft.
While you puff a cig or two,
others do just as you do.
You can leave and breathe fresh air;
singers, barkeeps, stuck in there
Low-wage job with no insurance;
Z-pac samples help endurance.
When you blithely light that match
think of what the workers catch.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At We Write Poems, a prompt went out: Write a poem about writing a poem. You never know when or where the inspiration will strike. I’ve long since given up on sitting down and deciding to produce something… and yet, the more I write, the more I want to write!
This poem is also posted at Writer’s Island, where I’m posting daily for National Poetry Writing Month. Amy
Prelude to a Poem
Teapot screams meeeeeEEEEEEEE
demanding attention
Drip of the French Press into the mug
Pressing grounds through as
ground falls from under my feet
taking me back to that cafe in the Village where…
Drifting with the breeze down State Street
Lots of UW students hang and hacky-sack here
Whole lives ahead of them
One potent whiff of a fattie gives me
a contact high and suddenly I’m on Venice Beach…
We march in solidarity with unions at
Madison’s Capitol Dome
The golden statue atop is called Miss Forward
The governor inside is called Mister Backward
My anger at injustice boils inside my gut
I plop down on the pavement and start to
scribble on the back of my sign…
Startled awake, sweating, full-body tremble
recalling those nights when
a little girl was tucked in tight until
HE decided it was her turn
I switch on the light – it’s NOW, dammit, not THEN!
I pick up a pen…
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter “L.” I could have declare my last posting, a limerick, as my “L,” but today they are counting votes in Wisconsin and I haven’t gotten in trouble for voicing my polarizing views on political morality (oxymoron, I know) in almost a week. So get ready, here it comes, from the cranky menopausal mom…! Amy
Loud, Lecherous Legislators
Family Values legislators jump through hoops
to prove they love Jesus, America, and “traditional marriage”
(not necessarily in that order)
Problem is, their hero is Newt Gingrich
who has been married three times
who left his first wife while she was in cancer treatment
who the Bible says is a fornicator, since he re-married
with this ex-wife still alive.
(Maybe Mitt gets a pass on his three marriages because he’s Mormon?
Except they don’t condone divorce, so is he really Mormon now?
Lord, this gets confusing, using the Bible as a salad bar.)
Family Values should be about loving families
but for these louts, the family must be straight
and have two parents of opposite gender
and produce children (so infertile people must not count)
and not rely on any public assistance
(even as their corporate masters take massive tax breaks,
sucking on the public teat like it’s a Dairy Queen)
Family Values lackeys are also homophobes
The louder they scream how they don’t believe
in “Adam and Steve,” the more often
get caught on the Down Low, their lover
ensconced in a cozy nest (charged to taxpayers)
or sliding a loafer under the men’s room stall
“It slipped.” (No, you slipped, sir)
Lest I be taken as a “lying Liberal,” I admit:
The Left does it too, in spades
We know most of them screw around
I mean, look at Bill Clinton
The difference is, they live and let live
They don’t tell us how to pursue love
or where, or when, or how many times
or with whom
So when you hear from “Family Values” candidates, remember
their values are flawed and loose
and their families often vamoose
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sunday Scribblings posted a new prompt today: Nearly. Gov. Scott Walker, can you feel fate breathing down your neck? We are a peaceful group of protesters, no matter how FOX spins it… no matter how many of your cronies plant bullets on the lawn of the Capitol Dome… no matter how long you hide in your office (except when you weasel out to address groups of white businessmen in black silk suits). We are here. We are NEAR. Get over it. Your time in office is almost up!
Nearly There (Madison, WI)
So close I can sense it
So strong, its pulse
So long, its road
So loud, its roar
Freedom is near
Freedom from overbearing robber barons
Freedom from locked and chained Capitol doors
Freedom from the stifling of public discourse
He’s in power for now
He’s almost gone
He knows his hour has come
He hears the word “impeachment” ring, a clarion call
The people of Wisconsin will not be silenced
The people of Wisconsin will not be trampled
The people of Wisconsin will not abandon unions
The people of Wisconsin have only begun to fight
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At Carry On Tuesday, they gave us this prompt…
“This week, the opening line from Home Thoughts From Abroad. Not by Robert Browning but Clifford T Ward: I could be a millionaire if I had the money.”
Now, you know me. The first phrase that caught my pun-addled brain was “Thoughts From a Broad,” but that is so Bette Midler… Carry on! Amy
If I Had the Money
If I decided to waste a buck
I could buy a lottery ticket
I could be a millionaire…
If I had the money,
I would give it all away.
I would drop it on rainforest recovery
and houses for Katrina victims
and public education grants
(and recalling the governor of Wisconsin).
Buy canned goods, give them to pantries;
clothe the homeless, give them shelter;
feed the hungry, give them hope;
help immigrants learn English if they wanted to
so they could see beyond cleaning rich people’s bathrooms.
I would spend it so fast,
old friends couldn’t catch up to me for loans,
because the money would already be gone.
I could be a millionaire if I had the money.
But if I had a million bucks, I wouldn’t have it long!
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
THREE! This poem answers three prompts: We Write Poems (Against the Grain), Writer’s Island (Tribute), and Sunday Scribblings (Big).
Larger than life, yet in her own mind, just doing her part. One of my all-times heroes, and right now, we need all the heroes we can get. Amy
Big Little Woman
To a woman who lost it all
Widowed, her children dead from dread disease, the flu pandemic.
After her kids perished, she nursed neighbors.
To a woman who rose from grief and chose
to take up the burden of others:
Mothers, fathers, children, all laboring side by side
in factories, in fields, on farms, long hours for pennies,
as their cruel, crafty masters garnered a tidy profit.
Fat cats whose fortunes were secure.
Rich men whose better angels whispered, “Show love, compassion.”
But Greed and Hubris shout down angels.
They blot out God in a frenzied cloud
of green ink and gold coins numbering 30 and more.
Still, this widow woman knew nothing and cared less
about her own comfort. Others’ welfare trumped wealth
in her sensibilities, as she saw the rich exploit the masses.
She trod into the mines and the mills.
She talked in the fields, where the hopeless
worked long hours under punishing conditions.
She spoke of dignity (if she’d stopped there,
she would never have seen a jail cell).
She spoke of fairness (watch it, lady).
She shouted about rights (ah, the gloves were off now).
She stirred the pot, this big little woman,
pistol under her petticoat, taking on police
sent by their rich masters.
She was the voice of unions, the midwife of labor.
Let’s raise a toast in tribute to this hero,
who warned us that labor leaders should never
wear fancy suits or become rich off their organizations
(a fact that speaks volumes today)
and who taught us that, no matter what
the rank and file must be protected:
Raise your glasses high to Mother Jones.
Here in Madison, we are fighting for unions and for fairness – PEACEFULLY. Don’t believe the FOX BS. There have been no laws broken, except by the Governor and the Legislature. Please read and remember – I have been there, on site. I tell you the truth: There are no marauding throngs of thugs (unless the Gov. decides to plant them, as he has admitted on tape to considering); there have been NO windows broken at the Capitol Dome (that report was retracted.) In fact, the Gov. ordered the window jambs sawed off to prevent them from being opened, patently illegal and a safety risk – this is why the “cleanup” of the Dome is up to $7M.
Yes, I’m an activist, and proud of it. So sue me. Make a lawyer rich with another frivolous lawsuit! For ABC Wednesday. Amy
Here, Heroes
Have you heard?
Hope is heralded here in Madison.
Hands up if you heed the Constitution.
Hands up if you’ve heard about Mother Jones,
Headlining the cause of unions
with the heart of a lioness.
Heading to the Capitol Dome,
heeding our call as citizens
to have our grievances heard.
Head of Wisconsin, the poster boy
for hubris, hedonism, and dishonesty.
Have you heard? Do you care?
Heads up: Greed is heading for
your hometown next.
Wisconsin is ground zero:
It will halo out from here.
Jesus said, Help the hungry, the homeless…
or are Hannity, Beck, and Hagee your only heroes?
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 