Amy Barlow Liberatore… stories of lost years, wild times, mental variety, faith, and lots of jazz

Tag Archives: Nuclear

GROUND ZERO: Fukushima

She’s alive,
she still simmers
waiting for someone to
fall asleep at the console, or
not pour enough water over her
spent uranium rods, which steam and thirst,
fuses lit, then drenched, then lit again as if by evil
magic. Stock up on iodine pills just in case she implodes…
Japan has
plans to
Tokyo so
sleep tight.


looks like it’ll be a long winter

© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

For ABC Wednesday, the letter is Z. Zero. Zilch. Zip. Which is what we’ll be if the US doesn’t step up… did you know they have had THREE meltdowns at Fukushima? That’s two more than Chernobyl.  And have we heard about any of this from the American media?  No!  Why?  Not because they are “liberal,” (the left would be all over this) but because the TV stations, papers, and radio stations are owned by power (plant) brokers and their elitist ilk.  Makes me want to rent “The China Syndrome” again.  This will also be in the side bar at Poets United.  Peace, Amy

The Dark Side of the Moon

Nuclear plants faced big fines
They’d filled all cave and mines
In Vegas, locals now know
You can gamble AND can glow
Like the bright, full harvest moon

Edict came down from on high
Nuke garbage would now fly
And be stored, safe and secure
In a place with no allure
On the dark side of the moon

Computer parts also flown
With spent missiles to the Zone
That waited in deep space
Old Man Moon’s Janus face
On the dark side of the moon

Flotsam and jetsam were sent up
Poisons, deep-water sludge went up
And rich people paid good money
Ashes placed, “Him” and “Honey”
On the dark side of the moon

As long as folks could view
The same pizza-pie milieu
They wouldn’t burst the bubble
Nor cause a whit of trouble
‘Bout the dark side of the moon

Scientists perturbed
Moon’s balance was disturbed
The orbit now decayed,
There soon was no more shade
On the dark side of the moon

Imagine each frightened soul
When La Luna spun out of control
And the first place it hit
Was Alamos with nuke shit
From the dark side of the moon

© Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Poetic Asides, the blog that got me started in poetry (thanks, Robert Lee Brewer and all the Street gang!) had an intriguing prompt: Out of this world. I’d been thinking about this concept for a long while. Peace, and keep the moon crap-free! Amy