Guilt Trips (a limerick)
Don’t try to put guilt trips on me
I know when you try them, you see
I find them soul-sapping
There’re merely lip-flapping
And therefore ignored easily
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
NOTE: Once in a while, I like to have a fun day of poetry. No sturm und drang, no tragic heroes, no political rants, no child abuse… just a little tickle to the funny bone. (Plus I’m a bit manic today!) Have a beautiful day, wherever you are. Peace, Amy
You’ll find this in the right column at Poets United, where they love me whether I’m manic, depressed, or somewhere in between! Check it out.
What can I say? Three Word Wednesday asked for poems with the words Grin, Jumble, and Naked. So first a little fun, and then… a little more fun. Peace, Amy (Also posted at my fave poetic collective, Poets United.)
Rugby Gone Wrong
Post-rugby match, Stan, with a grin,
said, “Never mix scrumming with gin:
From deep in the jumble
We heard someone mumble,
‘Good Lord, I’m as naked as sin!’”
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
““““““““““““`
Time Goes By
They mesh peacefully
‘neath sheets weathered
from years of laundering
He grins; her finger traces the deep lines
engraved from years of laughter and from struggle,
the hardscrabble jumble of their lives together
Her naked breasts sag off to the side
She doesn’t care; he thinks she’s as lovely a lass
as ever a man was blessed to wed.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
At Sunday Scribblings, we were asked to create a poem around the word “befuddled.” Not “bewitched,” nor “bothered,” nor “bewildered,” unfortunately… but then, that one was already written! (That’s for my music buddies.) A little gender-bender limerick for y’all. Amy
The Right Stuff?
A man with whom I often cuddled
Confessed to becoming quite muddled
Our sex was okay
But he told me today
With Bradley, he’s far less befuddled
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 