WRITING

I am also a free lance writer whose lane meets at the intersection of Art and Social Justice. I was a regular contributor in the Art & Culture section of Huffington Post. I love to feature artists whose work challenges our beliefs, inspires reflection and changes us in some small way. Articles are found on the links below.

POETRY

My poetry is mostly directly or passively autobiographical and intuitively intertwined with the artwork. Here is just a sample of what makes it to the canvas and then to the page.

Laundry Day / Album 54

She looked behind her and saw her future,
the passions of her youth,
slowly simmered,
tempered by unspoken contracts signed. Somehow, the whole wide world ahead became pink and green floral wallpaper, dinner on the table by 5,
laundry on the line on Tuesdays,
pressed pillow cases, stacks of neatly folded diapers. Ever so slowly, the requisites of life took their place.
Her dreams,
like leaves fell gently from the tree,
so quietly and calmly,
that not even she noticed
when they fell to the ground.

amy pleasant

She Was Her Mother's Daughter

The roots of these women run deep,
straight through the rocky patch,
past the shiny shale, which so easily flakes into pieces, down to the rich, moist, dark, soil. The stuff of substance of sustenance, of that which carried them from one story to the next.

amy pleasant

The Veil is Thin 

They have never left.
The sharp chill in the air,
the soft breeze brushing the cheek,
the faintest scent of lavender on a late spring day,
the swishing sound of an endless willow strand;
all reminders of enchantments felt, not seen.
Mothers and their mothers;
conservators of unconditional love.
Some missed the mark,
however, pure their heart’s intent.
Now,
sentinels, on the ready,
a whisper, a breeze, a scent away.
When we are most in need of reminders that we are loved.                                             The veil is thin and they have never left. 

amy pleasant

A Grand Entrance

Difficult to remember, only a suggestion of a memory, life before illness, a faded spot on the wall slightly evident from a distance, the shrunken world which followed this house; half cocoon now. is there courage enough to step outside into the sun? among those who have been going about their lives, while i have waited, sitting here with my argumentative companions; hopefulness and hopelessness. Shall i put them both out of their misery and go out for a walk?

amy pleasant

Sisters Likely

One person on the planet, a mirror of experience, a lifetime of push, pull,
push away.
A vacillating pendulum moved not by gravity, but by parental slights and petty jealousies. Then,
an expansion of the world; a bigger, more exciting, lonelier place. Sisters,
confidants,
defenders,
a soft place among strangers.
Then,
a shrinking of the world; parents take their leave,
last ones standing,
sisters.

amy pleasant

Broken Heart

Valentine's Day
the best day of all,
hearts and colored paper, glitter and paint,
frenzied expectation,
the promise of cupcakes and cookies
on the very same day.

A special valentine, made
for a special friend,
not one from the store, one made with a wish, the spark of something felt, but not quite understood.
He didn't notice,
but tossed it aside, with the others, the store bought ones,
and he left her for a cupcake.

amy pleasant