Three prompts, three poems. Enjoy, Amy
FOR SENSATIONAL HAIKU WEDNESDAY (prompt: Home)
Our Big Transatlantic Move
In tropics too long…
Gazing at Autumn’s palette
we know we are home.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
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FOR ONE SINGLE IMPRESSION (prompt: Silence)
Silence
Deeply drowsy,
almost asleep,
I am awakened by
silence.
My silence possesses
a certain charisma.
Mood music melts my mind
in the key of D-flat.
As one’s eye might
perceive a heavy haze
on a lazy afternoon,
so I hear my silence.
Whispers, wishes.
Haunting harmonics
pitched aloft like angels, but
with a hint of humanity.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
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FOR POETS UNITED (prompt: Third letter of your first name. And no, my first name is not “Sharp”!)
Y Not?
Yawningly waking.
Yearning aching to make love.
Yanking off your T-shirt,
purring, giggling, yowling…
Yelling, “Yes! yes! yes!”
After all these years,
you and I are youngas our first “yowza”!
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For Lex, with love
At Sunday Scribblings, we were asked to create a poem around the word “befuddled.” Not “bewitched,” nor “bothered,” nor “bewildered,” unfortunately… but then, that one was already written! (That’s for my music buddies.) A little gender-bender limerick for y’all. Amy
The Right Stuff?
A man with whom I often cuddled
Confessed to becoming quite muddled
Our sex was okay
But he told me today
With Bradley, he’s far less befuddled
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
This came from a “wordle,” a group of words you can form into a block of art; to create one yourself, click HERE.
Thanks to whichever poet’s blog contained the block (and I apologize that you remain anonymous, I was all over the place today). I can’t reproduce it here, but all the words from the block are in bold. Enjoy! Amy
FIRST TIME (wordle)
Smoldering like an ash-pit and
lush with promise, but
clunky teenage moves
His one hand, awake, cupped my breast
The other was passed out under my back
then resurfaced to hold my head for
a quick nibble at that well-hung boy
The First Time
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.
Warning! This is about condoms and sexual responsibility and the futility of abstinence education!! Hey, I tell the girls, “No umbrella, no singin’ in the rain!”
CONTAIN YOUR EXCITEMENT, GUYS
In this age of The Pill
Please remember, the thrill
isn’t all it is cracked up to be
While you scope out the cuties
Do be mindful that cooties
will be waiting if you’re condom-free
There are Abstinence teachers
and well-meaning preachers
who will tell you to marry ‘fore “sailin'”
If you take my advice,
you will think once or twice
about abstinence and Bristol Palin.
It’s not only the babies
but some toxic “maybes”
passed on through that condom-free sex
HPV, Herpes, AIDS
the Incurable Shades
will haunt all who do not “man up,” Tex.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
…and sometimes the Page turns you
Betty Page was all the rage
Never had to hit a stage
Simply posed for photographs
Steamy, sexy, some for laughs
Never in apron or bonnet
Often with some leather on it
Betty Page was quite a oner –
Sharp as nails and quite the stunner!
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Previously published at Poetic Asides
A Poetic Asides post. An ever-so-delicate look at how women’s bodies change over the years… Enjoy, and then click the link to check out poems by the rest of the gang! Amy
CHANGING
It comes to us all
Those gifted with double-X
The passage of time brings
the curse of our sex
First we get periods
Bloat like balloons
Bitchy and bothered
We cry to full moons
Then comes the part where
if you have some luck
you have a big baby
comes out like a truck
Your skinny jeans gone
to the clothing exchange
Your once-lithe young self
is at once rearranged
Your boobs not your own
‘Cause you share them with baby
and hubby gets jealous
But fools with them? (maybe)
Now gravity takes hold
and Cooper’s Droop socks you
More than a pencil
I can hold a whole box, too
Then finally menopause
There’s God’s big laugh
You sweat and you chill
and your mind’s cut in half
Part of it knowing
what you need upstairs
the other half, getting there,
asking, “What the hell am I doing here and why? There was something I needed up here but I don’t know WILL SOMEBODY TURN DOWN THE HEAT? I’M SWEATING MY ASS OFF!!!”
(c) 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Poetic Asides prompt. This is what happens when you spend three hours at Barnes and Noble, sipping cappuccino and reading Pablo Neruda love poems!
THE MEANING OF SILK STOCKINGS
Shiny satin garter belts with buttons and clasps
The sexiest, most alluring of fashion details
Stockings that slack a bit during the day
reminding her of their silky selves undercover
Tantalizing tug of war under her skirt
She never knew sensuality until she abandoned L’eggs
and smoothed sheer silk over
sturdy, smoothly shaved legs
Rolling the first carefully over calf and thigh
Easing the hem over the button
latching it securely, then
the other leg, this time more slowly
Later, on the dance floor, he hand on her hip
His eyes flash and she knows that he knows
What’s in store for the rest of the evening
It makes the wait agonizing bliss
He carefully eases the dress off, purring
with the subtle confidence of a true lover
His delight in the details of her undergarments
His appreciation of her shape, her way
Finding the treasure beneath
first teasing, pleasuring, then
slowly, cautiously unwrapping her
an undulating, whispering bundle of lace and linen
No awkward peeling back of pantyhose
She is old-school, The Book of Betty (Grable, Page, and Boop)
He leafs tenderly through the endless pages of her body
The journal of her journey to this timeless moment
© 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 