This is my first post for Poetic Bloomings, begun as a joint venture by Marie Elena and Walt, two of the first poets I met at Poetic Asides. Their story is unique in that they have never actually met – but collaborate often. They are seeking poems of beauty and goodness; they post prompts. They are accentuating the positive, so I’m probably the last person they will expect to see, LOL. Peace, Amy
Deer One
She drifts blithely through the trees
just beyond our parking lot.
She is the only, lonely deer of Tenney Park,
situated between apartment complexes which
must seem to her monoliths inhabited by aliens.
I call her Deer One.
Neighbor Lynne, soft spot for all living things,
feeds her birdseed, her snack of choice.
I know they say we should not encourage species
to live where they should not be, but frankly:
She was here first. We built around her habitat.
She is a Native American.
The other day, I spied Deer One
and she spied me.
We froze in one of those moments of
curiosity (mixed with dread on her part, perhaps).
I backed into my apartment and retrieved
the ripest apple I could find and,
gently,
rolled it across the parking lot.
It skipped the curb, landing at her feet.
I could swear she smiled at me!
I went to my car, humming, “When I See An Elephant Fly.”
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Took a couple of days off to process the events of the past week. Hope you are all well, and please, don’t anyone comment on Osama bin Laden on my blog, OK? If I write a poem about his life or whatever, then you can, but I’m meditating on peace at this time. Thanks for understanding! Amy
Road Asides
Roads, those easier I could have taken,
long past regretting.
Lessons learned on bumpy avenues,
long time forgetting.
And yet there is a wistful twist
in every boulevard – if you look hard
you’ll find it and, if you dare,
something good might find you there.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Published links at Poets United and Monday Poetry Train Revisited (thanks, Gautami!).
At Poetic Asides, the prompt was, “Maybe _______.” (Fill in the blank.) After realizing I’m 54 and there’s so much behind me, this poem spilled out like tequila. I even ate the worm! Amy (P.S. I am officially posting all NaPoWriMo posts at Writer’s Island.)
Maybe Now
If not then
when time was fluid and forever
when ripe fruits were there for the picking
and flowers spilled out our window-boxes
as palms shuddered in the warm California breeze
If not then
when every day was an adventure yet to come
when we were fools
and innocence had run from us, scared
and jaded juices thumped in our veins
Maybe now
now that we have grown older
now that we have learned the meaning of “folly”
we will look back with the leisure of age
and see it all had meaning
And our worst mistakes are behind us
or not
© 2010 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
Another take on the Writer’s Island prompt, Embark. The journey many of us would love to undertake.
TIME TRAVEL
O, to travel through time…
To the Harlem of Langston Hughes
To feel jazz wash over me and see
faces reflecting the culture of America
To the never-was Wessex of Hardy
To view broad expanses of countryside
and drink warm ale wearing home-sewn clothing
To trace the footsteps of Jesus, follow his sandals
to the lake share, witness the dropping of nets,
the spark of belief in a widow’s face
To occupy even the worst seat at a concert
featuring Jacqueline du Pre or Glenn Gould
To see Billie at Carnegie; Judy at the Palace
To hear firsthand Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl”
echoing through every hidden corner of
streets in the Beats’ Greenwich Village
O, to travel through time!
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
We are moving from the Buffalo area to Wisconsin, as Lex has been called to a new church. Lake Edge UCC offers Lex new challenges, and the Madison area is alive with cultural possibilities. Only sad part, leaving St. Paul’s UCC, Lex’s first church, and Attica friends who have become family to us… Peace, Amy
MOVING
All day I lay paralyzed
Panic-stricken by the massive undertaking
of a major move
The task is like a ton of marble
meant to be chiseled
reshaped into shippable form
The more I chip away
the farther the flotsam flies
Last chance to cherish tsotchke before unpacking again
Now the room is a frenzy of
forgotten details, floating memories
Taunting bytes of mislaid input
Cable movers – nail down days
Valium for the cat, pet-friendly motels
Electric stop here electric start there
Change car rental ALL insurance
Ensuring my mental collapse, or at least
a surging synapse
Graph paper at the ready, grid lines map
our new home – orderly oragami
I’m so anal it’s damned convenient for the movers
Around 4 pm I am clueless in clutter
cup of decaf by my side and
comforting cat on my lap
Then a skitch of that endless marble flicks my face
Embedding itself in my ear, burrowing
into my brain. The cycle begins again
And who the hell moves from snowy cold Buffalo
to blizzard-ridden frigid Wisconsin
And in mid-January, yet?
I’m blaming God, who is laughing Her butt off in Heaven
After all, She issued Lex’s call to ministry, and now She chortles,
“I’ll get you, my pretty… and your little cat, too!”
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
My old friend George is about to embark on a journey most of us would envy… the kind where, when we’re old and sitting in a nursing home with a bib catching our drool, we rasp, “I should’ve done that, taken that trip, dropped it all and gone off to discover why I’m here and what life could have been.”
He stopped off for a last visit with Lex and me before liftoff. I scribbled these lines in hopes that he has a safe voyage and finds what he’s looking for… or it finds him! Godspeed, my courageous brother.
AND SO, HE GOES
Can there be
a better place
than what’s around the bend?
Goodbye once again,
and cramming into
his car, fairly brimming with
all the necessities.
A few luxuries:
DVDs to play once there
Sojourning toward Someday,
Will it end,
this road, this exquisite journey?
Or will he
touch down lightly
where peace and love collide?
Where he feels
alive at last.
At present, tense – but future…
Don’t give up
on these dreams
of belonging in the world.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 