Bobbi’s Mom
After the weeping wears down,
the fog of loss and regret
After the last interview (because
inquiring minds want to know)
After the blur of has-been celebrities
trading her confidential secrets for
visions of their own names in print
After her life has been ransacked,
laid out in pieces like a tacky
Hollywood lawn sale, as customers
lay claim to a bit of her charms
We will remember the girl who had to
grow up too soon, the bronzed beauty
with the punk-ass husband who put a KICK ME sticker
on her back and showed her his belt
and helped her to addiction she couldn’t kick
We will honor the icon – but let’s not forget
she was a daughter, a mother, and a fragile soul
No one can outrun an Achilles’ heel
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
The Sunday Whirl: Belt, Fog, Sticker, Interview, Weeping, Visions, Blur, Ransacked, Confidential, Customer, Charms, Trade.
Rest in Peace, Whitney. You will never be forgotten.
Emotional Dyslexic
I cannot read her
She’s too confusing
Now she’s mad at me
and that’s amusing
It’s cat and mouse time
But where’s the trap now?
Oh, that’s the wrong game
I’ll give her crap now
‘Cause she should know me
My way of thinking
She never meets my needs
That’s why I’m drinking
And when I get home
Supper on the stove –
or else I’ll show her
my back hand of love
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
NOTE: This is one thing that never happened to me, but has happened to a lot of women, and there is no excuse. Men who run out of words use fists… and guns… and other weapons often discussed on my blog. Same goes for some women, but in a much smaller proportion. I am blessed to know so many men of peace, especially after a difficult, abusive childhood.
Will be posted at dverse Tues Open Mic and at my poetic home, Poets United.
Sharp Little Pencil 