Poetic Asides had an interesting prompt: Sound.
I don’t often indulge in haiku, but Sensational Haiku Weds. on You Know… that Blog? posed a single word: Wish.
So it’s one cynical and one hopeful. Both are also at the poetic collective, Poets United, where I think my interview is still posted as well! Peace, Amy
FOR POETIC ASIDES (also posted on their blog)
Snap, Crackle, Plop
The sizzle of a full-pound burger hitting the grill
The crackle of a Snickers bar just dropped in a deep prayer
The burble of Mountain Dew as it glugs from a 2-liter bottle
The pop of an opened Pringles can
The crunch of hot, salted french fries.
The hiss of whole milk foaming for a macchiato,
another hiss for the extra whipped cream
The snap of a third or fourth Twix bar.
The plop of millions of butts onto sofas
for “Dancing With The Stars,”
plus whatever else will fill a full four hours
of family television viewing.
The click of the computer mouse
as Facebook meets Farmville.
The thumbpunch on a keypad, texting
from a comfy chair at the Internet café.
The huff-puff of labored breathing
and murmured swears as the businessman
struggles to climb a single flight of stairs
(elevator out of order).
These are the sounds of obesity.
The sounds of Americans feeding not only their addiction,
but the corporate coffers of people so rich, they
laugh all the way to their next liposuction appointment.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
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FOR SENSATIONAL HAIKU WEDNESDAY
Wishing and Doing
Wishing on a star
mimics prayer, save but one thing:
Invoking God’s name
Praying for world peace
Will not ever be enough
We must work for it
We must all cry, Stop!
Take it to the streets, until
real peace is world-waged
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Two poems – I hope both will bring a smile.
ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter X, and with a nod to Gary Larson of “The Far Side.”
Instrumentation (haiku)
Welcome to Heaven
Here is your full Steinway Grand
Hell? A xylophone.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Three Word Wednesday words: Bump, Transfix, Knuckle. Odd set of words, but here’s mine!
The Thump
My pregnancy was no mere baby bump.
More like a lump, and a thumper to boot.
Alone in the evening, we
(baby plus me) would sprawl on the bed, shirt lifted up.
A sight to tranfix Mesmer himself,
the balloon-within-a-balloon,
my belly encased her home,
my womb.
I’d poke, she’d kick back.
I’d sing, she’d sway to an internal rhythm.
Her foot would push against the edge of her universe,
like a knuckle bulging inside a glove.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sunday Scribblings asked for poems about “opportunity.” This is actually destined to be a country=tinged song when I finish it, but the beginning seems made for the prompt. Also, Three Word Wednesday used the words Grip, Thread, and Prefer; this is my second poem for that prompt! Click on the poetry site links to read many more poets.
Also found at my poetic home, Poets United. Peace to you all, Amy
FOR SUNDAY SCRIBBLINGS
That’s How it Goes
Here’s how it goes, once in a while
The boy takes a shine to the girl with the smile
They waltz ’round the dance floor, and he takes a dare:
Says the sun was created to shine on her hair…
And her eyes seem to say what her heart already knows,
and that’s how it goes.
(c) 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
FOR THREE WORD WEDNESDAY:
Open Mic (haiku)
Caught in the grip of
uncertainty’s clenched fist
Sweat pearls on her brow
At the podium,
words threaded into poems…
Fight or flight? She thinks:
“I’d prefer to flee
but I’m already up here.”
Breathe. Exhale. Give out.
(c) 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Damp Laundry
Mom and damp laundry
Despite new products, incensed:
The skid marks remained
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For Three Word Wednesday: Damp, Incensed, Skid
…and your second helping (hope you already ate dinner!):
Rank
The new apartment was spotless:
Creamy carpets calming, yet daring any mud
to tread or trespass.
Spacious closets; bathroom, a religious experience.
We moved in, delighted to have found
a small space offering big comfort.
Then I stepped into the hallway
shared by a dozen apartment front doors.
Smacked in the schnozz by a complicated, rank odor.
Some good: Spices, worthy chefs working ethnic magic.
Much more body odor… culturally acceptable
where the bodies originated, harking back to my East Side days.
Worst – cigarette smoke sneaking out to play hookie,
curling, wending its way from under some front doors.
Lingering like a London pea-souper, toxic fog.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
ABC Wednesday – R, and Poetic Asides, “Telling it like it is.” Also at my poetic home-away-from-blog, Poets United!
Amending this post because I was a week ahead on the prompt… “spontaneity” got the best of me, ironic, no? The actual prompt was “Addiction.”
Stageheights
Living in limelight
Not fueled by ego, rather
talent to amuse
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore
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Whoops
Precious sucking babe
Never will she know, born of
Spontaneity
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore
Written for Sensational Haiku Wednesday for the prompt… Spontaneity! Also posted at my heart, my home – Poets United.
Two in a row for We Write Poems: “I do my laundry when…” One fun, one serious.
These are also at Writer’s Island and Poets United. Peace, Amy
Laundry (haiku)
I do my laundry
when I damned well feel like it.
I am self-employed.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
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I Do
“I do.” My laundry: When he needs his lucky shirt
for Dart Night with the guys.
And despite my long hours at work,
I end up cooking every meal.
He reclines his spine on the sofa
without a “thank you” for the chips and dip and beers I
serve his buddies while they sit and swear at the ref’s bad calls
and don’t call it a day until after 10 p.m.
“I do” sealed my fate until the swearing
was no longer aimed at the refs, but at me and
the bowl of dip just missed my head
falling in clinks and plops to the just-mopped floor.
Darts no long reserved for the board:
He’d found a new target.
It wasn’t always like this. In our early days,
kisses and promises of blissful years ahead.
Words I believed until my lips met
with his fist; until sunglasses became basic makeup.
“I do” sounds lovely at the altar, but so hollow when
promises melt and mingle with the salt and blood at my feet
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
So sick yesterday I didn’t post. Now THAT’S illness at its worst!
Today, I pay tribute to that nesting place of computer-surfing, caffeine-addicted folks everywhere. Me, I prefer local bean, but lots of people love the taste of burnt coffee… perhaps the laptops distract them from the taste? (Ok, if you are a confirmed Starbucker, I won’t go all WalMart on your ass, I promise!!) Amy
Laptopia (Ode to Starbuck’s, haiku)
Baristas, big lungs:
CARAMEL LATTE EXTRA
FOAM SKINNY UP HERE
Ladies who lunch ne’er
linger long here; they prefer
linen and light fare
Day trading greedy
lucre lizards, looking for
elusive landslides
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
ROUND AND ROUND WE GO (haiku)
Look me in the eye
Tell me again and again
I’ll listen all night
Speak those words of love
words that drew me to your side
and shine in my heart
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
AUTUMN LEAVES
Spring brings budding trees
sprouting fresh leaves, lushly
Green shade and shelter
With fall comes color
Magnificent, authentic
Trees turn their true shade
Crimson, golden, peach
Each are their natural hue
Green’s for chlorophyll
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 