DON’T FORGET TO TAKE POLAROIDS
Never one to take instruction
well, welcome to
THE EVE OF MY DESTRUCTION.
That’s me, going to hell.
Hand-basket by Longaberger.
So say the Bible thumpers
Because I insist my daughter’s
Divinely made, perfect…
and, yes, she loves women
If all she did daily
was love women,
I’d be worried, but fortunately,
she does other things, too:
art, music, movies;
she has a full life.
“I’ll bet you and Lex
do stuff besides
hanging in bed being straight!”
That’s right, baby, it’s true
We get up
sometimes for breakfast, lunch, dinner…
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Thanks to Riley for permission to use her experiences for this poem.
SO MUCH MORE
Love is not best expressed
through sex, yet sex sells
on the squawk box. From
VH1 videos to BET, you
can bet our youth are so
deprived of anything more
thank the depravity of the
booty call. Of women as
moving, bump and grinding
blow-up dolls. Of men with
faces only a mother could
love, whether country stars
(ten-gallon disguising their
hair plugs and plaiding their
paunches), Promise Keeping
Brothers who still leer at
the camera, or rappers who
pull teeth in favor of diamond
implants. These images imbed
like a cancer; only one answer:
The parental counter-punch.
Demonstrating healthy, loving
relationships. Turn off the
TV and unplug the modem;
talk about what lies beyond
the birds and the bees. Soul.
Spiritual bonding. Looking
your partner in the eye, not
sneaking peeks at anatomy.
Friendship first; hormones in
harness; self-esteem before
chasing the false, fleeting
dreams of sexy steam.
Ahhh, thanks to Poetic Asides for today’s prompt: LOVE. We could write all day, about everything from romance to our dachshunds to spiritual fulfillment to coffee… Click on the P.A. link and you’ll see what I mean! Scroll down and read some fantastic poets writing about our favorite mutual subject! As for me…
NO RUSH
Words. Gestures. Eye contact
in flickering candlelight.
Easy conversation over dinner, no rush.
Hushed hints of the night to come.
Yes, the tell the waiter, we’ll share
a piece of red velvet cake,,
which they discreetly feed each other
as they sip Arabic coffee,
thick, ebony sweetness.
Helping her on with her coat,
he whispers something – she giggles,
“My place.”
What happens next is
best left to the imagination.
But they share a heartbeat, a love
that transcends the clock
tick-tocking the moments of this evening:
A long-married couple
playing “Date Night,”
haven’t lost their appreciation
of the sensual pleasures
and the long, blissful
doorstep kiss.
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Didn’t need a website to prompt me for this one – just Lex! Dedicated to a wonderful partner, husband, and friend.
MATCHES
Shadows play on the walls
bathing us now in
a simmering glow
Candles everywhere
in this room
ready to light the fuse
or simply illuminate
hours upon languid hours
of our tender embrace
Candlelight romance
That sexy sound
of a match being struck
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 