It’s November Poem A Day (PAD) at Poetic Asides. Today, we were asked to write on the theme of closing a door or turning a page. We’ll be here all month – try the chicken cacciatore! (Ba-dum-DAH!) Amy
TURNING THE PAGE
Close the door on yesterdays
Memories can burn
sure as acid
etching pain into your very bones
Strange Celtic text
something about Dad
something about trust
Close the door on yesterdays
People who hurt you
and in return were abandoned
deprived of your vitality
and also your venom
Hieroglyphics
indecipherable
You don’t plan to study the language
There’s no point now
Turn the page
See a life unburdened by the past
where forgiveness reigns
in beauty
in hope
in trusting the words of one who
forgave so much more than you endured
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore
At Big Tent Poetry, we were asked to think long and hard about our dwellings… then write about a favorite place. I knew right away where my heart lay.
OUR KITCHEN (for Lex)
In times long passed,
the kitchen hearth was
the heart of every home.
Scent of drying herbs
a potpourri of potted and garden delights.
Fresh-baked bread beckoning.
Perhaps a rocking chair for Gram
as she sat and choreographed
the preparation of the evening meal.
And always, a pot of coffee.
Our own kitchen is quite small,
but the walls, tomato red, stir appetites.
We collaborate on meals:
Here’s the wooden board, I’ll chop veggies
while you brown the chicken.
You, the king of piecrust, rule the rolling pin
while I slice apples and stir in spices.
Occasionally, we bump butts, laughing.
Small space, but a romantic place.
Our kitchen is the heart of our home.
Rented, but ours, still
because we’ve made it so.
The cat watches longingly from his perch
awaiting his shre.
We cook, bake, talk, share
and pray over the meal we prepare,
for patience, for love to loom large
over the rest of the world. As for me and mine,
we are at peace.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For this Sunday’s prompt, we were asked to write about the harvest season. I gazed at a picture of Riley playing in fall leaves during her first Autumn, and the words fell like the proverbial fall leaves. Please check in at Sunday Scribblings to see other poets! Amy
HARVEST OF SIGHT AND SOUND
She was three
and had never seen falling leaves
never heard the crunch as crumpled tossaways
made munching sounds under her feet
“Mommy, where is the sand?”
Ah, Puerto Rico
The only land she had known thusfar
We had moved back to my hometown
“The beach is far from here, mi nena
Look above at the sunshine
streaming through the colors!”
She said it looked like a rainbow, una arca de iris
My daughter fell in love with Fall
and she a September baby, born on Labor Day!
We left behind the everyday glare of the tropics
for a land of constant change and atmospheric delights
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
We were given a jumble of words and asked to create a poem.
Purple, Kiss, Drooping, Gourd, Hook, Staircase, Extract, Glossy, Pluck, Muddy, Doll, Bitter
This is what happened for me. Get over to Big Tent Poetry and sample other poets, too! Amy
TEDDY BEAR
Every bedtime
One kiss for me, one for Ted
So much more than a doll
The biggest bear of all time
(or so it seemed)
His fur a muddy brown
Eyes a bittersweet chocolate hue
My girl would pluck Ted from the couch
and drag him drooping up the staircase (thunk, thunk)
Now Ted resides in my writing space
beside an 8×10 glossy of the daughter
who’s brilliant and sometimes out of her gourd and
hooked on art – like her mom
Sometimes, when I miss her much
(she having extracted herself to the West Coast)
Ted and I sit on the big purple blanket
talk it over
and have ourselves a good little cry
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore
We were challenged at Three Word Wednesday to use the following three words: Absolve, Hiss, and Ridicule. Here’s my take! Amy
VAUDEVILLE (Absolve, Hiss, Ridicule)
Grandpa gave me great treasures
Stories of his vaudeville days
He played clarinet in the house band
when melodramas were the craze
The villain, in handlebar moustache
His entrance greeted by the audience’s hiss
They knew his only goal was to take
a helpless young maiden’s first kiss
Once the play ended on a high note
with the maiden happily married
Out came a comic; if his shtick was tired
They’d ridicule ‘til he was harried
Out came the hook, on came the dancers
with lots of leg, quite beguiling
And thus distracted from former acts
The manager was absolved; they left smiling
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At Poetic Asides, we were asked to write from the perspective of another. One was a tea bag steeping in boiling water, but then came this from my pregnancy 23 years ago… Hope you like it! Amy
SINGLE ROOM OCCUPANCY
Safe here and comforted
by a rhythm so steady
Nourished effortlessly
All I need, I have
Voices muffled but familiar
Hearing them more clearly
as the days pass
Hoping to meet them soon
Upside down now, I think
Ready to tackle the tunnel
and emerge gasping
into the light
© 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
We were asked to put ourselves in someone else’s place and write about the experience. Here is one of three I wrote today. Enjoy!
SINGLE ROOM OCCUPANCY
Safe here and comforted
by a rhythm so steady
Nourished effortlessly
All I need, I have
Voices muffled but familiar
Hearing them more clearly
as the days pass
Hoping to meet them soon
Upside down now, I think
Ready to tackle the tunnel
and emerge gasping
into the light
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
SHE IS ELEMENTARY
She is air.
Refreshing caress of a soft breeze messing with
your carefully coiffed hairdo
She reminds you to let go
to bend with the wind
She is water.
Drip drip dropping from the faucet lightly
Listen: She’s intent on stealing your attention
She could boil
but chooses to stay cool
She is fire.
Dancing on a waxy wick
A flickering flame in your darkest moment
All she needs is your spare wood and
a match to warm you woolen soft
She is earth.
Freshly tilled soil, embracing new seeds
Covering, comforting each burgeoning life
Creation begins with her, even as
you are the soil from which she herself was sprung
She is your daughter
All the elements of a true force of nature
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
PATIENT FISHER
Dad, Uncle Tommy, and Grandpa Bill
invited me to go fishing with them
I was only five and quite honored
Turned out I was in charge of the beer
Keeping it tied to the rowboat
immersed in the chill of the lake
They whispered their jokes and told me
that fishing is all about patience
Tossing out the line and waiting for a nibble
If you didn’t get a fish the first time, you tried again
You grow up, you adapt those lessons learned
to your adult life
In matters of faith, I remain a patient fisher
Living each day as though I’m tossing out a line
quietly, calmly, carefully
If someone nibbles, I let them
If they grab the line with gusto, I share my journey
And sometimes, if the water is just right
We float in a rowboat side by side
quietly chatting, sharing what God has offered us
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
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