How did it go
Around and around
Thick and thin
Slivers of beads
And evil piercing shrapnel

Bangbang
Two swipes
And gone were they
From the world.
No one knows
Where they went
But they are so far gone
That no hospital machine can bring them back.

You left
For England
Saturday
An it was raining when you left
An when you got back
It rained still.

And you were gone
For one week
Seven days.
Which is five school days
For me to squeeze through geometry
without you
(And
I
Can
Barely
Survive
With
You)

And Sarah asked
For a Union Jack
T-shirt
And told you
Not to forget.

And you brought it
For her
And
Got
Nothing
For
Me

But you told me
"You didn't ask
But if you want something
I'll get it for you
Next time.
I have to go back in
Six to eight weeks"

And I thought
You would have
Bought me something
Not as a
Souvenir
But
As
An
Apology

For leaving my alone
For a week
To live lonely

And yet
You'll go back
To England across the pond
In
Six
To
Eight
Weeks

Sometimes I doubt you're actually going to England.

Sometimes I forget I have a father.

We feel a little more deeply;
Our dreams and our hopes a bit more lofty
The hurt we encounter, more painful
The love, more fearsome, more courageous

Our desires, our passions, they burn as fire hot embers;
Convictions, belief systems, we, a bit more zealous than the rest
Sorrow and loss makes a melancholy bed upon our hearts, tears fall while
We give reverence to those great writers that came before us,

With nature, we are held in awe, as in crispy branches of Autumn trees
Come to us again renewed, children to climb your arms of Spring
Our senses heightened to silver lined clouds, we appreciate more
Our care, our commiseration more powerful, more potent, more poignant

On constant journey to find our place in this universe, more analytical, yet more confusing
A safe haven found among like minds in this community of poets waxing prose, lyrics
Connecting with those who embody the more aspect, finding peace, finding acceptance
We are one, we are family, united vicariously of one another's experiential travels

Herein lies the words of our lives, our souls borne on scripted stage
Likes, Comments, critiques of our word manipulation, not critiques of our being
Writing is freedom, from long exhaustive treks through hot desert, snake riddled sands
We drink our first cool waters from the natural springs of Hello Poetry

We love you one and all, and this to a Greater Degree, always.

-----ChawzzyScript

There was tension between the families from the start
My best friend's wedding was certainly one for the record books
I tried to bring sensible mediation to the dance floor
As his Grandpa Helmar raised his walking cane and struck the Brides Father in the neck

Each of the families allegiance spurned combative retribution and all Hell broke loose
I took one for the team with a sac of Jordan Almonds to the right eye
Then slipped on the wedding gift of excrement left by the ring bearer, the family poodle
I came to consciousness wet with champagne thrown in my face, I thanked my wife for caring.

Aunt Sarrah, in her drunken zeal, thought it wise to toss all her cookies in the Reverend's face
The Bride's mother slapped an unsuspecting cousin with her overly expensive oversized hat
And the Groom's sister's dress was ripped to shreds by the Bride's teenage niece
Yes. the same dress that my wife said was hideous and did nothing for her.

The two parties had not much to say to each other in the waiting room of the ER
bandages and gauze were passed around like Hors d'oeuvres, but not the Bayer Aspirin
We all watched in shameful disgust, the videographer's collection of memories
The next day as the Bride and Groom opened their gifts

And I, sporting a keen black patch, a pirate only his wife could love...
Reminded my dear friend of the possible outcome of having two reception menus
One honoring him and his family and one honoring his Bride and her family
Highlighted by Königsberger Klopse, and respectively, Gefilte Fish with carrots

Their love endures!

-----ChawzzyScript