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

Tag Archives: Poetic Asides

Poetic Asides had an interesting challenge: “A World Without ____________.” Yeah, go figure how this one came to mind (wink)! Amy

A World Without Gay Men (what a bore)

No Dr. Kildare
Nor “Night and Day”
No “Pillow Talk”
‘cause Rock was gay

No Sistine Chapel
Virtruvian Man
No Mona Lisa
No inventions grand

No Karloff’s Monster
(James Whale’s work of art)
No Benjamin Britten
Johnny Mathis, my heart

Gershwin, Sweet
Embraceable You,
the Man I Love
is a classic, it’s true

Greg Louganis’
diving perfection
Leonard Bernstein’s
symphonic direction

The list could go on
til night turns to day
but what a dull world
without men born that way

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Also posted at my NaPoWriMo home, Writer’s Island, and at Poets United.


Absolutely true story, and managed to write it in Poetic Asides’ 10×10 form as well. My cousin Gregg and I are a lot alike: Complete unimpressed by celebrity, and able to get off a one-liner without cracking up (until later). You go, cuzzy!

Carradine vs. Laughlin (0-1)

You’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead
But this one’s too funny to go untold

David Carradine, in his “Kung Fu” days
Came to a rest’rant my cousin Gregg ran

Carradine went barefoot a lot back then
and Gregg said, “Sorry, no shoes, no service”

All puffed up, the star went on to protest
“Don’t you know who I am? Any bistro
would be glad to serve me, barefoot or not!”

Gregg deadpanned, “I suggest you go find one.”

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Also posted at Writer’s Island, my NaPoWriMo home, and at Poetic Asides, plus, as always, Poets United.


Written this morning. I was so bummed about being confined to bed and missing Easter services, and this was my spiritual exercise for the day… Big day for Christians, but every day should be a day to celebrate each other, hand in hand, faith joining faith to seek peace in this troubled world. This will also be at Poetic Asides, where Robert asked for prayer poems. Amy

New To This Church

He hangs out near the front door,
unsure about entering, what with
seeing men in suits and ties and
women dressed up, hats and all.

And here he is in raggedy jeans
and a tie-dye shirt his buddy gave him.
The VOA fixed him up with an army jacket
and boots broken in so much, they’re almost broke as he is.

He considers his options: Lingering on another park bench
like the one he slept on last night…
Or maybe he’ll leave to find Gus and Sandy
near that cheap coffee shop again.

An old lady sniffs as she passes.
He must smell a little ripe.
“Well, it’s Sunday, I’ll give it a try.”
And as he slips inside, Jesus takes a seat in the back pew.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

Also published at Writer’s Island (My April Poem a Day home) and Poets United. Please click these links to discover a lot of talented poets!


Brenda’s Wordle at Beyond The Bozone including silver, phrase, forever, scars, crescendo, crude, recount, perfume, message, and bottle; also, this works with Poetic Asides’ “Message in a Bottle.”

Cobalt Blue Bottle

Auntie Ruth’s perfume in a cobalt blue bottle
embossed with the phrase, “April in Paris.”
Twirling open the fluted silver cap,
I’d sneak a sniff.

Stronger than a crescendo of crude
on a Texas Tuesday,
the scent still held a message
of forbidden romance (one that might leave scars).

Recounting those afternoons
I used to while away
in Ruthie’s room…
Memories I’ll treasure forever.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil

You can also see this poem at my NaPoWriMo site, Writer’s Island, and, as always, at Poets United.  Check out these poets!


At Poetic Asides, the prompt was, “Maybe _______.”  (Fill in the blank.)  After realizing I’m 54 and there’s so much behind me, this poem spilled out like tequila.  I even ate the worm!   Amy  (P.S. I am officially posting all NaPoWriMo posts at Writer’s Island.)

Maybe Now

If not then
when time was fluid and forever
when ripe fruits were there for the picking
and flowers spilled out our window-boxes
as palms shuddered in the warm California breeze

If not then
when every day was an adventure yet to come
when we were fools
and innocence had run from us, scared
and jaded juices thumped in our veins

Maybe now
now that we have grown older
now that we have learned the meaning of “folly”
we will look back with the leisure of age
and see it all had meaning

And our worst mistakes are behind us
or not

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil


Poetic Asides offered an interesting prompt, “Never again.” This is a hard one to read, but I hope it will give someone, anyone out there second thoughts if they ever consider taking their own life… Peace, Amy

Finale

Suicide
Bloodletting bride of
isolation
Over-rated solution to
confusion
Delusion tells you it’s
the only way out
(“Please proceed to the nearest exit”)

Psych meds assuage the
doubt
Numb it, dumb it down
But for the dedicated
deathbound
Hounds of hell at their
heels
In the end
it’s the end.

A final farewell to friends, family
Never mind who finds you
dangling
Don’t worry, your mom will bleach
the bathtub
But the sight will frighten and
haunt them forever

Never say never – again, I say:
Pick up the phone
Make the call
You are loved

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil


At Poetic Asides, the prompt was, Celebrate. Could not think of a better celebration than the day two of my dearest friends were united in love and dignity. Amy

Celebrate Today
(For Christopher Kennedy and Jimmy Ricketts)

Christopher and Jimmy
both in tuxes, Dapper Dans.
Not the groomsmen,
but the grooms.

I’m running around in
a dress tight as Saran Wrap
(and just as pliable).
My heels click click click busy busy…

So light the candles!
Bring on the guests!
Family and friends;
Amy’s taking requests

at the baby grand with candelabrum
As I sing, I meditate on the wax
slowly slinking down the tapers.
This is real romance.

The pastor was beautiful;
the buffet, sublime.
Every state should have gay marriage –
their catering businesses would thrive.

I sing the song I wrote for their wedding,
“The Best I Have To Give.”
Then Jimmy yells, “Do the Santa song!”
I grin and launch in.

It’s my rendezvous with Kris Kringle
Naughty but nice. The glasses clink
and the newlyweds share a little peck.
Nothing gross like at straight weddings.

A tasteful affair from beginning to end,
all couples dancing, bubbles in the air.
I remember Mom saying that true love
is marrying your best friend. Amen.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil


For NaPoWriMo, I took up the Poetic Asides prompt, “Don’t ____ _____,” in which we are to fill in the blanks. So many well-intentioned folks unwittingly forward viruses by forwarding messages. My pet peeve is chain letters: They often come with the assurance that “God wants us to live abundantly,” (as though God’s abundance has anything thing to do with filthy lucre) and then tell you that you MUST forward to 128 people in the next 3 seconds and your ‘money wish’ will come true. Yeah, God’s all about the money, guys. That’s why Jesus lived in a diamond-encrusted palace! Amy

Don’t Forward Emails

Please
I’m begging you
No more kitten and kitten and cute kitten and cuter kitten pix
No more e-cards with prancing bears

For the love of God
No more Rick Warren quotes
No more assurances of God’s love (as if I don’t know that already)
No more “Obama is Muslim” warnings

For the sake of my sanity
No more chain letters threatening an outbreak
of bubonic plague if I don’t forward it to 12 friends
No more Chicken Soup

Please
I’m on my knees
When next you a forward a forward
Skip me. There, I’ve implored.

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil


Poetic Asides wanted “spring” poems; Sunday Scribblings asked for “free.”  A twofer!  Amy

FREE AS A BOUNCING BIRD

Up – flying free
Down – springing back
Up by my toes
Down – springing back
Up, heaven knows
Down – springing
Up but not so well
Down – splat! on my fanny
Up a little
Down, Up, Down, spring, sprang, sproing – whew!

Trampoline

© Amy Barlow Liberatore/ Sharp Little Pencil


For Poetic Asides’ “Spring” prompt, and for Three Word Wednesday (Dual, Identical, Volley).  She was the world’s first superstar, captivating us – whether as a Hollywood home-wrecker, star of one of the biggest box-office losers of all time (Cleopatra, in which she met her match, Richard Burton… so who really lost there?), and finally, fulfilling her promise as a person of influence by becoming one of the world’s most vehement activists in the fight against HIV/AIDS.  God rest and keep you, Elizabeth Taylor.

Liz (Farewell)

Young Elizabeth, whose eyes were
dual violet gemstones, capturing the hearts
of a generation: Velvet Brown
astride her beloved racehorse, Pie.

Liz. the National Bitch who stole Eddie Fisher’s heart
from America’s Sweetheart, Debbie Reynolds
Sexy Liz, who married seven times
(including twice to an identical husband, Richard Burton).

Elizabeth Taylor, survivor of disease,
bad press, bad marriages… redeemed by activism;
who threw an early volley at HIV/AIDS,
challenging the world to spring into action.

© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil