This poem is an erasure. I leafed through the Madison Chronicle’s front section, chose four stories (hence the four stanzas), and picked words out in order but at random to form a prose poem (free form). There is another site, Erasures, which offers many paragraphs from famous authors, inviting you to click around and erase (or replace) words to create your own poem. I felt the topics in this particular paper calling to me. Peace, Amy
Monday, March 28 News
Man dumped still bleeding from car
at hospital died, believe stabbed at intersection.
Officials put two plus two together,
the fight nearby minutes before.
Gov. Walker’s budget would cripple network,
force police to close connections,
connect the dots.
“It would be like, you got a horse,
next week a mule,” said the chief. “It
could hurt the network Google.”
Japan’s nuclear plant dismissed,
an associated show. Confidence prompted
overly optimistic Earth,
the level of fury pushing to multiple meltdowns.
Ample waves before and again, clear
important network plates strongly coupled,
storing extra stress.
Weakened minor still around her apartment
but sometimes on her own fell to emergency.
The organ couldn’t matter; that can be
common among the residents,
a service to spring through.
Suffer in silence, afraid, falsely advancing, inevitable.
“It’s fun to hit a waitress as she lay on the floor.”
Help her. Step right up.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sunday Scribblings posted a new prompt today: Nearly. Gov. Scott Walker, can you feel fate breathing down your neck? We are a peaceful group of protesters, no matter how FOX spins it… no matter how many of your cronies plant bullets on the lawn of the Capitol Dome… no matter how long you hide in your office (except when you weasel out to address groups of white businessmen in black silk suits). We are here. We are NEAR. Get over it. Your time in office is almost up!
Nearly There (Madison, WI)
So close I can sense it
So strong, its pulse
So long, its road
So loud, its roar
Freedom is near
Freedom from overbearing robber barons
Freedom from locked and chained Capitol doors
Freedom from the stifling of public discourse
He’s in power for now
He’s almost gone
He knows his hour has come
He hears the word “impeachment” ring, a clarion call
The people of Wisconsin will not be silenced
The people of Wisconsin will not be trampled
The people of Wisconsin will not abandon unions
The people of Wisconsin have only begun to fight
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Last chance for ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter “I.” Please know that I don’t believe ALL Tea Party members are misinformed racist birther idiots. Just most of them. My only prejudice: bigots! My only problem is with a marked insistence on a refusal to learn throughout one’s lifetime. Amy
Ill-Informed
“If he indeed isn’t Indonesian, we insist he prove it.”
(“Was Hawaii an individual state back then? I wonder…”)
“If you’re an ideal American, display flag insignias,
fly Old Glory in front of your home in sun, in rain, in inky night.”
(Incorrect, incidentally; in fact, improper. But
idiots don’t listen.)
Ignorant, imbued with INSTANT TRUTH
(inscribed illegibly on a chalkboard).
Instilled with self-righteousness by
spiritually insulated evangelists.
Illiterate, or might as well be, when introduced
to a newspaper.
Insisting they already know – don’t confuse them with
intelligently researched facts, in-depth analysis.
Ignorance is bliss. Idyllic idiots.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Three Word Wednesday asked us to create a poem using Educate, Object, Silence. Mine seemed to go toward the political side of the spectrum. Interesting that “object” takes both the verb and noun forms.
CONTROL
The object of failing to
educate our youth
is to silence dissent
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
QUESTIONING AUTHORITY
In opposition to corporate domination,
three options are clear:
Educate those around you
about the history of abuses;
Object publicly, speaking
truth to power; or,
Keep your silence, avoid roiling waters…
and wait for them to come for YOU.
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Hey, it’s Thanksgiving. Probably no better time to talk about freedoms (and lack of same) in our country. Oh – and if you’re flying this weekend, please, don’t wear Speedos at the security counter! Your country thanks you for your discretion. (LOL) Amy
MENDING OLD GLORY
Our country is bowed, not broken
no matter that Rush and Glenn nay-say
The president erred when he trusted
that Congress believed in fair play
But lobbyists hold all the power
and companies claim their “free speech”
As long as control’s made of dollars
no president can heal the breach
Let’s face it: We all are Americans
regardless what party we choose
So please show this president loyalty
that goes with the reds, whites, and blues
And if you are drawn to militias
just know that you make no sense, just noise
When Bush was in, we didn’t run out of words
So holster your guns, there, cowboys
Our country was founded on precepts
like freedom, rights, and education
If one is in chains, then no one is free
Remember that – you’ll heal our nation
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
OK, I know I’ll get heat for this one… another “stacking” poem for Poetic Asides.
BRICKS AND MORTAR FIRE IN BABEL
What is holy about the Holy Land?
The Dome dominated by one faith
as Americans do little except contribute
to Israel’s continued building of a wall
choking off Palestinians under slabs of
mentality and political polemic.
“It’s in Israel’s defense and protects American interests.”
It prevents Arabs from getting to the doctor.
How Christian, how Jewish, how holy is that?
And Americans, who cannot feed and clothe
and care for their tired, poor, hungry,
are footing the bill for the contractors.
People who defend Palestinian rights
are called “anti-Semites,” even the Jews who
choose to show mercy on Islamic people.
As though the heads of the State of Israel
speak for all Jewish people around the world.
Tell that to Jews who think Zionism is just another power grab.
Apocalyptics take joy in much of this,
feeling we’re stealing ever closer to the Rapture,
sure they know the year, if not the day and hour,
surer still that they and they alone
will ascend with Jesus, patted on the head,
and to Hell with everyone else!
Until true Godliness prevails, when
Jews, Christians, and Muslims remember
they all worship the same God,
Jerusalem will remain divided at its heart.
So many languages, so many translators,
but no one is listening in Babel.
Spare me your prophesies and Revelation.
If you really love Jesus, you have to love us all.
If you really follow the Torah, you have to love us all.
If you really follow the Prophet Mohammad, you have to love us all.
Israel is not real estate; Israel is a people.
Mr. Netanyahu, TEAR DOWN THIS WALL.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Looking for _____, says the prompt at Poetic Asides. As usual, my Irish is up!
LOOKING FOR PEACE
Swords into ploughshares? Not anytime soon.
We’ve been at war for thousands of years.
Men have fought over women, over money,
marking territory like dogs, changing borders,
shouting orders that (_____) is to blame and
(_______) MUST be annihilated.
Special ops, men made of steel and guts –
many who live to tell the tale, broken and unsure.
Troopers exacted the only death toll at Attica.
Nixon said it was an acceptable loss.
Collateral damage: Arms, legs, burqas,
babies. Baskets full from market, now
bullet-hewn produce strewn on a rocky terrain.
“Meanwhile, back at the ranch,”
Skinheads field-dress a man whose only sin
was a wink at the wrong guy; he is strapped
to the bumper of a cracker truck with the
Confederate flag flapping in the breeze of
the ultimate joy ride – ice-cold beer and
today’s catch dead and mangled, trailing them,
bouncing in the tread marks.
A woman says the wrong thing (again)
and gets what she had coming; he talks to police
and she hides her face, mumbling “mistake” and “sorry.”
A shelter’s bell rings at 2 am:
A mom and two kids barefoot in Buffalo snow,
wrapped only in bedsheets. As they are clothed and
warmed by cocoa and reassurance, they tell of
the boyfriend confiscating clothes and shoes nightly
so they might not leave. Now they fear he is near.
In D.C., no matter who started it, the drones find
their next predator… surrounded by family members.
In return, a boy straps on the gear and becomes
one cell phone call away from the CNN crawl.
Everybody has nukes as long as the US says it’s OK.
Israel walls off Palestinians, we pay for the materials.
If we complain, we are called “anti-Semitic,”
even if we’re Jewish!
Mexican cartels are doing well and causing hell,
while the CIA protects Afghan poppy fields.
But we are made to worry only about people who hope
to clean toilets in America – the least of our worries.
God, Jehovah, Adonai, Allah, Creator
Give us peace, we pray in our churches and temples
We didn’t listen to Moses.
We didn’t listen to Jesus.
We ignore the Five Pillars of Islam.
We didn’t heed the Buddha or Gandhi.
We didn’t follow Dr. King past his death.
We only listen to TV…
Why don’t we listen to God?
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
VOTING BOOTH
No longer safely ensconced
behind the curtain
the veil of privacy
No longer pulling levers
where no one can see you
registering your choice
No longer safe
from voting machine hackers
who can manipulate elections
Thank you, Bush and Dieboldt
for giving me a metal chair
and a stinking cardboard screen
The only ‘up’ side of the fetid new system
was watching Carl Paladino vote on TV
loading his card in upside down
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
previously published at Poetic Asides
READY AS WE’LL EVER BE
Americans hold dear our freedom to vote.
And rightly so.
We take for granted the ease with which
we breeze into polling places to cast ballots.
No death threats or intimidation
(except for people of color
when the majority of Anglos don’t step up
and ensure their rights, too).
And it’s been almost one hundred years
that I, a lowly woman, got the vote!
Free and fair…
until a presidential hopeful
and his golfing buddy discussed voting machines.
“I have a new-fangled computerized one.
It’ll put the mechanized ones in the museum!”
New York State had foolproof levered machines
(tallied after unsealing by all parties for certification
and carted off to the county hub intact).
No chads, no room for error.
You’d have to dump the machine in the river
to get rid of the votes!
Dieboldt: Planned obsolescence for
that which was never obsolete,
replaced by computerized gizmos,
many without paper trails,
most so vulnerable they are hackable, even by teens.
The golf partner promised the presidential hopeful,
“I’ll deliver Ohio for you.”
And that he did.
Now my beloved state has mothballed
perfectly functional, foolproof levers
in favor of “Never Say Nevers.”
We have only our lack of information and action to blame
for the shameful fact that,
although we can vote,
it is no longer guaranteed
that our vote will be counted, reflecting our choice,
or changed overnight
by interests more powerful than those of freedom.
We’re looking forward! We’re making progress!
We’re hurtling headlong into
a new golden age of fraud and abuse.
President Palin and Vice President Palidino?
That would serve us right, I suppose.
I’m going to vote today,
and pray that tomorrow –
whatever the outcome (sincerely) –
the votes were counted fairly.
But in the back of my mind,
Bush and Dieboldt practice their putting…
© Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
previously published at Poetic Asides and my blog
Sharp Little Pencil 