Season’s Grumblings
With each passing year, diminishing cheer:
I feel less festive at Christmastime.
Perhaps it’s the sprawl of malls,
gaudy displays of “Holiday Cheer,”
a politically correct wink,
as though I’m supposed to know they
really mean “Merry Christmas,” but
corporate beliefs leave them no choice.
No voices ringing with carols, but a veritable
barrel of secular songs: Motown, Nashville, or worse still,
Burl Ives (that rumpled fool who sang like a choir boy
during the Red Scare) offering “Yuletide cheer.”
Or Maurice “I’m an entertainer, even when the audience
is all Nazis” Chevalier pretending he’s fun and nice.
Santa’s real elves are exploited Chinese child labor.
Neighbor, don’t listen to me. I’ve little glee.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Three Word Wednesday challenged us with Belief, Festive, and Rumple. Ha! I took up the challenge and delivered this exquisite poetic case of heartburn. What a Grinch! For those who are believers, have yourselves a Merry Christmas, and remember whose birthday it is, teach your children. And if you’re a secular Christmas person, hey, pay no neve-rmind to me, except for the part about the Chinese kids. Peace, Amy
During all the recall mishigoss, I had time to write something more all-encompassing! Here’s to the new America, as envisioned by Newt, Rick, and (depending on the day) Mitt (featuring backup vocals by Michele and Sarah):
Anthem for a New Party
Harken to the new American song!
The mating call of the vulture.
“Take wing and we shall restore prosperity.”
Blood drips from his beak,
from his talons,
trickling down upon the rest of us.
The offspring of this vulture are
vile, virulent creatures
who cannot fly but still flock together,
plotting, under the right wing.
Taking tea with spiders whose backs bear
hourglasses, betraying the truth:
Time’s almost up.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Also at my poetic nest, Poets United.
Life is Good When…
Life is good when children smile, their bellies full.
Life is good when girls play rough-and-tumble
after their tea party.
When boys are allowed to cry without ridicule…
Life is good when all folks have a home, however humble,
with food on the table and friends to share it.
When community clinics offer free health care
to those who need it most: addicts, women facing choices
that men don’t think twice about, prenatal care for those
who choose motherhood, help for those who don’t…
Life is good when handguns are melted to forge plows.
When women can wear hijabs and not encounter
disapproving looks from unveiled Anglos.
When Mom can choose to stay home because Dad
makes enough and has Union protections, or when
Mom decides the kids are all in school and can work
at something that exercises her mind and passion…
Life is good when the Christmas tree has more ornaments
on the tree than overpriced Chinese- made toys under it.
When the family gave more to charity than to Wal-Mart…
Life is good when every couple can hold hands and love
their lives together without condemnation from straights.
Life is good when the National Guard is back on US soil
and enlisted troops are all home, receiving VA care and
using their GI benefits to get an education…
We’re waiting for the day when life is good.
Until then, this dream is brought to you by your sponsor,
the Creator, who reminds us all that life is a gift…
use it wisely and with love.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
For Sunday Scribblings, an alternate take on “Life is Good.” Also at my poetic heart and hearth, Poets United.
Skin Like a Cloak
“The truth is,” said the professor,
“we wear our skin, each one of us,
like a cloak. Some feel fervently
that the color of the cover matters
greatly; others see only history.
“The residue of the bad old days,
‘black’ and ‘white.’ Vessels swept
into the harbor, offloading human
cargo. For these battered souls,
no breeze could refresh their sad
brokenness. Scores of years later,
for the Confederate flagged and
South Will Rise Againers, these stories
are muted, revised, considered
best stored in a trunk, hidden away.
“But we,” she continued, “can get to
the heart of injustice by unlocking
that attic door, dusting off the trunk,
prying loose its locks, and delving into
its heart of shame, of inhuman cruelty.
“Whites start by remembering.”
“By humbling ourselves to the truth.”
“By understanding the depths to which
‘entitled’ Anglos can sink when led by
minds filled with ignorance, greed, and
cruelty.”
“Only by recognizing the signs of such
wretchedness taking root in the American
mainstream and fighting it… only then
can we ensure it won’t happen again.”
© Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Written for dverse Poets’ Pub and posted to my poetic touchstone, Poets United.
For Poetry Tow Truck (thanks to Donna V. for the prompt, What I Did On My Summer Vacation”!). Also at my poetic collective home, Poets United. Peace to all, and may cooler heads prevail this Fall, Amy
Hot Town, Summer in the City
In flannels-and-snow-shoes winter
we marched at Capitol Dome.
You’d think now resolve would splinter
and we’d cool off at home.
Yet, we’re still here with signs
upholding union rights,
Tired, sweaty folks of all kinds
chanting from noons to nights,
‘Cause we remember history
and it’s not just munitions:
Our forebears saw no mystery
in unjust work conditions.
They used their power in numbers
‘til unions were assured,
And, bless them, they were fired on,
but still their words endured:
SOLIDARITY FOREVER!
THE UNION MAKES US STRONG.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Hay(na)kus are a curious little form I found at Poetic Asides. It’s a variation of the haiku: Three lines; one word, two words, three words. No other rules. My kind of form! Also at Poets United, our poetry collective. Amy
As Seen On TV
Drug
It’s new!
Ask your doctor
Squandered
Money
is wasted
on the rich
Like a Mighty Stream
Justice
is ensured
only through action
Jesus, Gandhi, King
Peace
cannot flourish
without unconditional love
Mel Gibson’s Passion
Jesus
was not
an action figure
America
Hatred
is not
the new Normal
All poems © 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Crucifixion, Texas Style
Gov. Perry had a choice:
Listen to the appeal of experts who proved
the man did not start the fire which took
the lives of his children…
or think about his upcoming re-election.
Most Texans don’t take kindly
to governors who commute death sentences.
The Guv could have looked above.
It appears he chose to look the other way instead.
And now another innocent man
walks down the final hallway to his
sanitary, efficient doom.
Strapped down as the doctors ready the dose
of lethal legality, executing “humane” judgment.
Curtains are yanked open to reveal the scene.
Curious how this drama is presented
like a peep show from Hell.
The needle will pierce his skin
and another soul will be loosed
by the State of Texas.
The view from the chamber ceiling
is that of a man
tethered to a cross.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil for Three Word Wednesday (appear, dose, pierce) and Poets United.
This poem is based on the execution of Cameron Willingham, who spent 12 years on Death Row. Many experts appealed on his behalf as to the pattern of the blaze, but Willingham had a history of abusive behavior and a 10th grade education, which don’t play well in courts, no matter how the facts are presented.
It’s not only Texas – many states have the death penalty; some have prisoners on Death Row, just waiting for the day the penalty goes back into effect. Texas does tend to execute the most people; in fact, when George W. Bush was governor, he “okayed” 152 executions, the most in recent history by any governor. I remain opposed to the death penalty, and the facts are in favor of pacifists: More and more DNA evidence is proving the innocence of people on Death Row across the country.
ABC Wednesday, brought to you by the letter, “Z”! (Do we start on the Cyrillic alphabet now?) Also at the poetic collective, Poets United.
This poem is based on the phenomenon that effectively destroyed my piano-bar career… Amy
Zithromax (Think Before Lighting Up Indoors)
A smoky club, the trapped wait staff
take your orders and get the shaft.
While you puff a cig or two,
others do just as you do.
You can leave and breathe fresh air;
singers, barkeeps, stuck in there
Low-wage job with no insurance;
Z-pac samples help endurance.
When you blithely light that match
think of what the workers catch.
© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Poetic Asides had an interesting prompt: Sound.
I don’t often indulge in haiku, but Sensational Haiku Weds. on You Know… that Blog? posed a single word: Wish.
So it’s one cynical and one hopeful. Both are also at the poetic collective, Poets United, where I think my interview is still posted as well! Peace, Amy
FOR POETIC ASIDES (also posted on their blog)
Snap, Crackle, Plop
The sizzle of a full-pound burger hitting the grill
The crackle of a Snickers bar just dropped in a deep prayer
The burble of Mountain Dew as it glugs from a 2-liter bottle
The pop of an opened Pringles can
The crunch of hot, salted french fries.
The hiss of whole milk foaming for a macchiato,
another hiss for the extra whipped cream
The snap of a third or fourth Twix bar.
The plop of millions of butts onto sofas
for “Dancing With The Stars,”
plus whatever else will fill a full four hours
of family television viewing.
The click of the computer mouse
as Facebook meets Farmville.
The thumbpunch on a keypad, texting
from a comfy chair at the Internet café.
The huff-puff of labored breathing
and murmured swears as the businessman
struggles to climb a single flight of stairs
(elevator out of order).
These are the sounds of obesity.
The sounds of Americans feeding not only their addiction,
but the corporate coffers of people so rich, they
laugh all the way to their next liposuction appointment.
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
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FOR SENSATIONAL HAIKU WEDNESDAY
Wishing and Doing
Wishing on a star
mimics prayer, save but one thing:
Invoking God’s name
Praying for world peace
Will not ever be enough
We must work for it
We must all cry, Stop!
Take it to the streets, until
real peace is world-waged
© 2011 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil
Sharp Little Pencil 