The Gossip Girls
Have you seen the way she dresses?
Half slut, half bag lady.
And always with one dangling earring,
one post. Is that a gay thing?
Well, she does march in the parades.
And all that gay rights nonsense and
on and on about the homeless.
Her husband is a saint to put up with her.
If I talked that way and dressed
like a tramp, my husband would
slap some sense into me, and I’d
have it coming.
Mine would, too.
I miss the old days when we knew
what was what and who we were
supposed to be… oh, wait, sssssh…
she’s coming.
“Morning, ladies, how’s everything
with you today?”
“Fiiiiiiine.” Butter wouldn’t melt
in their mouths.
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Kim Nelson wanted poems on gossip at Poets United – check out the link and read some other poets as well. Poets U. is a wellspring of talent. Also “in the margins” at Imaginary Garden With Real Toads.
PROCESS NOTES: As Alice Roosevelt Longworth said, “If you don’t have anything nice to say about others… come sit next to me.” I abhor gossips, quite possibly because I am the subject of same in some circles. Such is life lived out loud! Amy
Pride and Pettiness (and the Gospel of Matthew)
There are in this world
people who gossip and
believe not in consequences
Care not of feelings
Worry not of redemption
I feel sorry for them
Living self-contained,
self-serving lives, not
penitent for own faults
Gossip is the stuff of
cowardice; direct talk is
the only right course.
If you love me, tell me
If you hate me, tell me
Don’t go behind my back
And remember, when you
point a finger at me, you
point three back at yourself
Matthew 18:15-16 says to
speak to the person directly
A tribute to righteous living
© 2013 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Three Word Wednesday gave us Penitent, Tribute, and Believe; ABC Wednesday is up to P. Also at Poets United, where there is never any backbiting or pettiness, just poetry! Too many communities, not just Christian, are prone to gossip, to not speaking directly to the person they are mad at or have problems with. Just a reminder from The Word. Peace, Amy
Sarah’s Schnooks
“Such a schlemiel Sarah’s seeing,” said Shamira.
“The sort who schleps in for supper at seven when he
was invited at six. Sorry-ass schmuck.”
Aunt Sophie, sporting the same schmatta she’s worn since
the seventies, sighs. “Never simple for Sarah. She
schooled at City and now seems to savor those
simpletons and shegetzes. Shitheads who schmooze
soup to shtup!” She giggles. “And sure, I know from
shtupping, don’t look so surprised.”
Shamira, stirring soup (matzoh balls soft as satin),
says, “Stanley should have stepped up seven years ago.
Sarah could do worse than the cantor of our shul.”
Sophie smiles. “Sarah with Stanley? Sterling cantor,
but that schnozz! And I suspect he’s a snore in the sack.
He schpritzes during prayers and his spiel is too slick.
If Sarah doesn’t size them up,” she snickers, “there’s always
Sylvie the yenta!”
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter S and the extensive Yiddish I learned in my youth. Always fascinated with Jewish culture, my daughter’s father is Jewish. Consult Wiki for words you don’t know! Also at Poets United, my poetic home. Amy
Sharp Little Pencil 