Amy Barlow Liberatore… stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz

Tag Archives: Comfort

The Poets United prompt was Loneliness. This was my take on it. Peace, Amy

In My Solitude

He’s gone out the door for yet another
long, dour weekend with his mother

I am left to my own devices
TV never quite suffices

Hating the quiet, the isolation
I head out for café consolation

Alone in a crowd, it’s win, win again
Just me and my journal, my mind and my pen

Could call up some friends and do a flick
Then toast and get toasted until I’m sick

But I decide not to pick up the phone
The comfort: Control is mine alone

I hear music vaguely beguiling my mind
See dancing figures upon the blind

Phrases now pop up from deep recesses
These help assuage any “home alone” stresses

And with synesthesia, quick movement of eyes
Creates haunting noises that always surprise

I pray, I eat takeout, and sure, I do miss him
But sometimes a girl needs a break on a whim

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

(Synesthesia affects me this way: When I move my eyes side to side, there follows a tracking, sort of metallic noise, not unlike the Six Million Dollar Man jumping sound. Sorry, it’s a US TV reference, my out of country friends!


Give it up
Push it away
that ego, whispering “me me me”
(like a bad soprano warming up)

Let it go
Open your mind
Listen to the echo
(the voice that says the world revolves around you)

Let it in
Breathe it in
Creation, the Creator, who loves you
(and only wants you to give love back to the world)

Come full stop
Close your eyes
Let love catch up to you
(you were running too fast anyway)

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
This is in response to a challenge from We Write Poems (make up a prompt/form that may be used in the future. I call this Formulaic: 3 + (x) = Poem) and my poetic home, Poets United.

At ABC Wednesday, we’re still on the letter “M.” Also, as always, posting to Writer’s Island, so bop over to both sites and see what other poets are doing! Peace during this holy week, Amy


Snuggling as we watch the sunset together from the patio

Hoisting a Wisconsin ale with new friends

The crumbly crunch of fresh shortbread

A quick call to my best friend that turns in to two hours of
trying to right the wrongs of the world (while taking time to
trash Joan Rivers’ new show)

Occupying small space in a roomy chair,
scribbling poetry as I ponder life oozing by on State Street

My first bite of Barb’s Angel Cake

How the wick crackles when first I touch match to candle and
knowing the sweet mysteries that will unfold when he
sneaks into the room

So many moments that make me say,
“Mmmmmm, life is good”

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

No prompts today… just some thoughts. Hope they help you find your “safe place.” Amy

Island Dweller

When the dentist’s drill begins shrill keening
in my latest in a series of root canals

When the physical therapist says, “This
might hurt a little”

When the Red Cross phlebotomist
tries to mine my blood, missing the vein

or my legs are in stirrups, awaiting
the pinch of the Pap

I go to my island

The passport is breath
often deeeeeep breath
and I though I am prone
it’s on a bed of warm sand

Relaxed by water lapping my toes
on the shore of an endless beach

Every breath is music
Every moment is relief

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

At Poets United, the Thursday Think Tank prompt was Ghosts.   Everyone should have a favorite one, right?  Amy

So Near

The spider web draws past my cheek
I know she’s near
A whisper in the back of my being
A tug on that loose thread on my sleeve
A feeling of longing to see her again

She’s here, unseen but wholly present
when I need her most,
conjuring a smile from my sullen face,
reminding me that death is not the end,
but a beginning.

Blanche floats along
with the cloud of witnesses
especially for my benefit.
I am not afraid, for she is my angel:
My reminder of connection to the eternal.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Super Bowl in Wisconsin 2011

More cheese
Cheese on chips
Cheese in dips
Cube and tubed
Fried and dyed
Cheese on breads
Cheese on heads
Mixed up and fixed up
Grated and plated

Beer and Stoli
Harder booze
7-layer dips
smeared on lips

Kicker misses
Groans and hisses
Green and Gold
bright and bold
Shrieks and grins

Cheesehead’s dream
LOVE our team

© 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