READY AS WE’LL EVER BE
Americans hold dear our freedom to vote.
And rightly so.
We take for granted the ease with which
we breeze into polling places to cast ballots.
No death threats or intimidation
(except for people of color
when the majority of Anglos don’t step up
and ensure their rights, too).
And it’s been almost one hundred years
that I, a lowly woman, got the vote!
Free and fair…
until a presidential hopeful
and his golfing buddy discussed voting machines.
“I have a new-fangled computerized one.
It’ll put the mechanized ones in the museum!”
New York State had foolproof levered machines
(tallied after unsealing by all parties for certification
and carted off to the county hub intact).
No chads, no room for error.
You’d have to dump the machine in the river
to get rid of the votes!
Dieboldt: Planned obsolescence for
that which was never obsolete,
replaced by computerized gizmos,
many without paper trails,
most so vulnerable they are hackable, even by teens.
The golf partner promised the presidential hopeful,
“I’ll deliver Ohio for you.”
And that he did.
Now my beloved state has mothballed
perfectly functional, foolproof levers
in favor of “Never Say Nevers.”
We have only our lack of information and action to blame
for the shameful fact that,
although we can vote,
it is no longer guaranteed
that our vote will be counted, reflecting our choice,
or changed overnight
by interests more powerful than those of freedom.
We’re looking forward! We’re making progress!
We’re hurtling headlong into
a new golden age of fraud and abuse.
President Palin and Vice President Palidino?
That would serve us right, I suppose.
I’m going to vote today,
and pray that tomorrow –
whatever the outcome (sincerely) –
the votes were counted fairly.
But in the back of my mind,
Bush and Dieboldt practice their putting…
© Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
previously published at Poetic Asides and my blog
After the debates in the NYS Gubernatorial race, I was soooo pleased that Poetic Asides posted the prompt, “What I Like About…” This is an equal opportunity offender! Even the Dems get it in the butt!
WHAT I LOVE ABOUT THE 2010 NYS RACE FOR GUV
Sure, Cuomo’s in
but I watched the debates anyway
Hoping to see Paladino explode
but he ran offstage to do his exploding in the men’s room
He must have been tranquilized
I didn’t hear a single remark about gays being damned or that his son is STRAIGHT, dammit
I have no horse in this race
since the all-but crowned winner
is same old, same old
and his daddy held the office first
and I saw how that played out in the White House
But the also-rans were great
A former madame for the Anti-Prohibition Party
who, while endorsing legalized marijuana and casinos,
did not endorse legalizing prostitution
Now there’s a confused person
The RENT IS TOO DAMN HIGH Party
I swear, I couldn’t make this stuff up
Col Sanders is now black
andtalkssofastyoucanhardlykeepup
And while rent may BE high
I cannot in good conscience give them my vote
Because the correct name should be
The Rent Is Too DAMNED High Party
I hate bad grammar
Loved the Greens cause they love the earth
Great agenda on the environment
They understand that ‘hydro-fracturing’
is actually ‘hydro-chemicals-including-methane-fracturing’
You can’t frack without chemicals
As Starbuck would say, “Don’t frack with me”
Libertarian, suitably stern
Would privatize everything
and we’d watch our houses burn
if we didn’t keep up our fire dept. payments
Cuomo, silk-suitably smug
Talked like a weiner
I mean winner
There were more candidates, I think
But these were the standouts
I’m going to start my own party
and call it:
The Price Of Prostitutes Is Too Damn High/Don’t Frack With Me/Legalize Pot/Tax The Rich Til They’re Poor/Health Care For All/If You Want To Wear A Hijab or Other Arabic Dress In Public, Juan Williams Will Have To Get The Hell Over It
…Party
This week at Writer’s Island, we were asked to think about masquerades. First one was heavy, so I decided it was time for a little more fun. Easy, my Tea Party friends, it’s just a poem! Amy
SCARY COSTUME
This year, Halloween’s too easy
Red suit, sharp and stiff, not sleazy
Hair up in a shiny bun
Posture of a warring Hun
Sensible dark-rimmed wire glasses
Worn especially for the masses
“Shopped around, I’m really smart
Picked them up at our WalMart”
Smile until my lips vibrate
Platitudes at rapid rate
Kids, I’ll drag along behind
tied up to my butt with twine
Red high heels from Macy’s, dear
(“WalMart”? Not with my career!)
Vacant stare and “Yeah, you betcha”
Look out! Sarah’s gonna getcha!
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore, Sharp Little Pencil
Remember when TV had real news reporting, truthful coverage, and fewer ads?
TVoLUTION
In the beginning was creativity
Watch This – brought to you by
Buy This
This pattern morphed over time in sinister ways
as Buy This bought out the creators of
Watch This
Buy This now dictated the watching
Watch This was shuffled about according to Buy This trending
Our only anchor was the anchorman
the Network Evening News
Buy This pulled up that anchor and we were adrift
Then Buy This created
Watch This Happening Now
which became
Watch Only These Bits, then
Watch Only These Bits And Think This About Them
Buy This also went from choosy moms and see the USA in your Chevrolet
to eyes narcotically glued to the tube
Plasma spasm
Minds restless, but legs so lazy they got their own syndrome
and consequently their own drug
well-advertised, saturating the market like Crisco
and every bit as healthy
TVolution
In the beginning it was
“Watch This, then
Buy This.”
This pattern morphed in sinister ways
as the creators of Watch This
were bought out by Buy This.
Buy This dictated what we’d watch
Watch This was shuffled about
according to Buy This trends.
Our only anchor was the anchorman
(to our sorrow, no more Morrow)
Buy This took over the news department
Watch This Happening Now
became
Watch Only This Part We’re Showing You
then whittled down to
Watch Only This Part, and Think This About It
Buy This also went from choosy moms and peanut butter
to couch potatoes with legs so lazy
they got their own lazy syndrome
and consequently, their own drug.
To be fair, Buy This does mention the side effects:
Dry mouth, dry South,
desiring more sex but
unable to harden one’s resolve
and urges to gamble
and drive while asleep at the wheel
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
WHATEVER COMES (for Poets United)
Whatever you think about me
I am human
I have feelings
Feelings that have been stomped on
or caressed
depending on the person and circumstance
I am an American from Europe
whose white skin
and heterosexuality
and youth in the suburbs
gave me advantages
over those who weren’t dealt the same cards
or even given cards from the same deck
I am a woman who still doesn’t have
the same Constitutional rights as males
but who can vote and speak her mind
who doesn’t have to wear a burqa
who doesn’t risk being stoned to death
because she dared leave the house without her husband
I am not threatened by TV personalities
who admit they don’t believe half their hate speech
(they are just doing what their sponsors tell them)
who have no degrees in journalism
(one a college dropout, the other a deejay)
They don’t speak from their hearts
but from their wallets
and they freely admit it
Sure, it’s mercenary and incites violence
But it’s a living
Powers of such as these are limited
only by the willingness of their listeners
to be sheep, to blame the least in our society
for their current woes
(this time it’s Mexicans and gays; last time it was Jews;
before that, Armenians, before that…)
When Jesus was surrounded by “unclean” street urchins
he told the disciples not to chase them away
but to let them come closer
He didn’t want them deported to another town
He didn’t call them unclean or unworthy
He didn’t charge co-pays when healing the poor
He acted out of love
He also raised a ruckus
that resonates to this very day
for to love one’s enemies is an almost impossible task
and to love one’s neighbor,
harder still when he brags he ran them over,
but they were “just Mexicans”
Jesus was hung because of words
and all his words were loving
If our poetic world was only Whitman, Dickinson, Dickens
bereft of Ginsburg, Baraka, Gwendolyn Brooks
how poor this world would be
Provocation is healthy
What makes one’s blood course faster
makes one’s mind more nimble
Sure, I get provoked
But I stand by my right as an artist
to call out powerful hate-mongers
Plato banned poets because
he claimed they drew their inspiration
from imaginary worlds
Those of us who draw from the real world
do so in the name of justice
of compassion for the Other
regardless of religion or color
regardless of the consequences
in spite of whatever comes
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
HEALTHY FOOD, HEALTHY LIFE (for We Write Poems)
The prompt was about cooking, but I got stuck on ingredients! Amy
HEALTHY FOOD, HEALTHY LIFE
Don’t eat Red Dye Number Two
Skip the yellow, green and blue
Sure, your kid wants blue-tongue bliss
But there’s poison in its kiss
Wheat flour that has been enriched
Grips your colon like a stitch
Keep hands off the soda, too
Even diet’s bad, it’s true
No plastic in the microwave
Lest you crave an early grave
Phthalates leach into your food
That cannot be any good
Lest you think I’m paranoid
Thinking all food births typhoid
Rest assured, I’m very healthy
Even though we’re hardly wealthy
Whole foods do taste great, you know
Sure, they cost some extra dough
But the outcome’s worth the cost
Fat Cats bought control – we lost
Skip the fructose, shun the dyes
Don’t believe the corporate lies
Lots of crap is on those shelves
Read the labels. Protect yourselves.
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
BAD INHABITANTS! BAD! (For Jingle’s Blog)
After years of neglect
the elemental truth is this:
We have failed
as stewards of our planet
as guardians of
the seventh generation to come
Our rain is acid and
wells polluted as we drill for
The Next Big Thing to power our
Next Big Honkin’ Truck We Don’t Need
Industry, single drivers, and cow farts
Too many vehicles, not enough trees
Too much red meat, not enough veggies
have rendered the air toxic
Farming was once a family business
Now CAFOS and Con-Aggravation
slosh our ground with liquid shit
Poverty rapes the rain forests
Driving up SoCal’s Highway 1
some whack job flicks a butt out the window
That spark becomes a flames becomes a wildfire
becomes death and destruction
Water, Air, Earth, Fire
Elements of the earth
Elements of our dearth of desire
to let the seventh generation be born and have their say
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks to progressive radio host (and proud WNYer) Stephanie Miller for the phrase “Stupid O’Clock.” She’s a wonderful antidote to Beck and Rush, along with Ed Schultz and Randi Rhodes… if your city CARRIES progressive radio.
STUPID O’CLOCK STUCK (Writer’s Island past prompt)
Jagged maze
zigzagging from row to row
frenzied search for the Big Cheese
Cheating, skipping lines, flying across the labyrinth
Cornered by repetitions of
jumbled choruses
at stupid o’clock in the
late night of soul’s mourning
My frontal lobe
a lava lamp bursting with I don’t know
Each thought glomming onto the next
Floating in inky blue warmth
Even with the pillow
pulled tight over my head
desperate for sleep, still the sight
Molasses morass glowing
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sure to tick off the White Separatists and the Black Separatists and… go ahead, give me your best shot in the comments section! Just remember, if you burn a cross on my lawn, my husband is a pastor, so you’ll look really dumb. Amy
NATURAL BRONZE
In Sunday School we were taught
subtle suburban racism
“Red and yellow, black and white
They are precious in his sight”
Less a melting pot than a box of crayons
Let’s lay it down:
We’re all shades of brown.
Humans began in one place
Call it Garden of Eden
Cradle of Civilization
Where the Aliens Landed and Changed Stuff
It was Africa, and we all know it
Some roamed to the north and
their penance was loss of melanin
Climate, diet, you can’t deny it
Beige, buff, tan, taupe
Copper, bronze, sienna
Native Americans are not colored henna
Asians aren’t yellow
(nor are they “inscrutable,” so stop saying that)
Africans aren’t black, but ink is
And this page is white.
If we were made in God’s image,
why do we pick creation apart with prejudice?
Questioning God… the eternal flaw, the ever-present sin
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 