Where I’m Comin’ From
Look back at the burbs
White enclave; promise of the GI Bill
Manicured lawns, manacled wives who
drank a dram during the drudgery of
The Soap Trinity (Laundry, Dishes, The Edge of Night)
We were their kids, who tried not to notice
We ran scattersplat wild and messy as anything
Hair flying, legs booblaboobla gearing up to race
Kickball, swimming, badminton in a harsh breeze
Barbies hunted Nazis in the woods (we had badass dollies)
Anything was possible; everyone was some shade of pale
…except when my family hosted a jazz party
Singin’ & Sippin’ – white was not a prerequisite
for fitting in; all that mattered was the lushlife music
Screw being eight, ditch that perfect smooth hopscotch stone
Pocket a church key, cuz beer bottles will need opening
and the grownups’ll be too drunk to open their own
Time for goldenbronze fortunes to be shouted and whispered
© 2015 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
The prompt at dverse Poets was “Where Are Your From?” We all wrote a poem about the soil from which each of us sprang. Mine dawdled at home base for our kickball game; but eventually, I found my way to the party. And in all honesty, once I’d found it, my heart never left! Amy
Babes in Toyland
We weren’t spoiled kids
my sisters and I
Modest presents
under the tree
One year I got
my first and only Barbie
That summer, we got
all our Barbies together
and made them into
Nazi hunters, bringing
bad Germans to justice
(no wonder I married a Jewish guy)
Best of all, my sis
made me a dollhouse
Really, a trollhouse
back in the days when
you could score a troll doll
for a buck, back when
inside the house was
my favorite playground
She worked with balsa
and with crates
designed bedrooms
with ornate curtains
and cool furniture
She also made them clothes
She toiled in secret and
when she unveiled it,
I gotta tell ya,
it was the biggest present
I had ever received…
and the best.
After all these years,
I have this to say:
Thanks, Jo, for
giving me the gifts
of your time and
your loving heart
© 2012 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For the Thursday Think Tank at Poets United: Playground
Sharp Little Pencil 