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ChawzzyScript Apr 2013
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
ChawzzyScript Apr 2013
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
ChawzzyScript Mar 2013
Doc, I've been trying to deal with these issues for quite sometime to no avail;
A good friend of mine (you may know him, Elmer Fudd) recommended you.

I fear I will never be able to eat, let alone catch this turbo inspired example of flightless foul;
Stuck in this celluloid world vividly inspired by an Emmy award winning colorist.

I am a proud animal from generations of fine breeding, born in the pristine coyote valley;
I am not stupid, not a fool or buffoon, and so I thought contractually, not one to be laughed at.

And I, always the bad guy, constantly daunted in pursuit by haphazard ACME products;
Expensive, bulky, time consuming, they characteristically fail right before they almost work.

Rocket powered skates, unfortunately, only allow me to kiss the cliff-side really really hard;
Very heavy anvils serve no other purpose than to be dropped on my head repeatedly.

The incredulous manipulations of the impossible by the so clever writers of this farce;
From trains appearing out of nowhere to run me over, to fierce lightning storms in an instant.

Laying there in the release of my own bowels as the uncontrollable result of
500 Megajoules of energy traveling through my body yet again.

I am the twice electrified mass of dribbling spastic protoplasm
Personified proverbially in that lightning does indeed strike twice in the same place!

As the smoke arises from my chard hairy frame and I sweep up my ashes to reassemble later;
I realize Doc, I'm losing my grasp on the reality of ever succeeding, I need your help!

I'm still hungry;

And still I have not caught that **** Road Runner,

******* Warner Brothers!

-----ChawzzyScript
ChawzzyScript Mar 2013
Then said Almitra, “Speak to us of Love.”

And he raised his head and looked upon the people, and there fell a stillness upon them.

And with a great voice he said:
When love beckons to you follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.

And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,
So shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.

Like sheaves of corn he gathers you unto himself.
He threshes you to make you naked.
He sifts you to free you from your husks.
He grinds you to whiteness.
He kneads you until you are pliant;
And then he assigns you to his sacred fire, that you may become sacred bread for God’s sacred feast.

All these things shall love do unto you that you may know the secrets of your heart, and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life’s heart.

But if in your fear you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing-floor,
Into the seasonless world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears.

Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself.
Love possesses not nor would it be possessed;
For love is sufficient unto love.

When you love you should not say, “God is in my heart,” but rather, “I am in the heart of God.”
And think not you can direct the course of love, if it finds you worthy, it directs your course.
Love has no other desire but to fulfil itself.

But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:

To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.

To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy;
To return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

-----Kahlil Gibran
One of my favorite poems, from one of my favorite books of prose!
The "Incomparable" Kahlil Gibran
ChawzzyScript Mar 2013
Though it were bright
It is most assuredly overcast now,
I basked in the radiance of your love
Before you married him.

I thought maybe heroically to interrupt the wedding
When the Minister exclaimed, "Speak now or forever hold your peace"
But instead settled to sit in my car as the rain fell, my tears flowed,
And the rice showered upon your exit of the chapel.

Years have passed, yet memories still fresh
I think often of our young unbridled love
And still it hurts, this dull ache within my heart
To wonder how beautiful we would have been.

Once upon a time ago, you told me you loved me, constantly
With the tears that rolled down your cheek when we kissed
Today the sun's rays are still radiant
Yet I live in the shadows of this oxymoron for the rest of my life.

-----ChawzzyScript
ChawzzyScript Mar 2013
Now blissfully engaged, in this most intimate act,
Our bodies do frolic in the playground of our loving boudoir.
I have committed to sightless memory, every curve of your beautiful form,
And my hands slowly recall your soft geography.

Your deep coos and murmurs stir my primal senses,
To a heavenly plane, elevated, as I extend lingual kisses to the center of your soul.
Your impassioned and skillful ministrations upon my ardor, I can't catch my breath;
I read the emotion and devotion in your eyes as they look up deep into mine.

Me aloft of you in slight embrace, I deliberately yet slowly ingress your warmth,
You hold me still, savoring this space, before now riding this ocean's waves, ebbs and tides.
Perhaps due to the intermittent pressure of our coupling upon your abdomen,
You give way to an audible flatulent moment, we laugh uncontrollably in each others' arms.

Our noses and our cachinnation stem the tide of this ill-timed olfactory assault,
The blush in your cheeks from embarrassment only makes me hold you closer, tighter.
In synchronous ecstasy, we continue our **** horizontal dance to joyful satiated fruition,
Your head lies resting upon my chest, as we hold hands over my heart.

Despite what smells should ever emanate from either of us on any occasion, any instance,
I want you always to know;
I love you for the life of me,
I'll love you 'til the stinky end of us both.

-----ChawzzyScript
ChawzzyScript Mar 2013
A second ago I was 1 hour younger, I remember it well.
The few gray hairs that I have accumulated atop my head, were not there pas' a moment,
This wrinkle in time adding yet another wrinkle to my brow, I have become wiser for it.
My innocence of youth has been unfairly taken, Oh how I long for the days of yestersecond.

I remember the clock set back to maybe a millimeter, my prostate was not quite this large,
And congress with my wife seemed to last for hours, but now mere minutes leaves me spent.
We used to jump into bed and sleep in the ****, seems just an instant ago, but now
The coldness of aging has us encased in flannel pajamas, we sleep dreaming of yestersecond.

I awoke this morning to a brighter outside, the early birds singing, off kilter, unfamiliar;
Not synchronous at all with my hot cup of Kona, I scratch my chin anew with stubble.
For in such a short time, the moon waved forlornly goodbye, the sun bid faintly hello.
Mr. Meowgii, my cat, chasing the birds outside, thankful for the passing gift of yestersecond.

My kids, now practically grown, (9 & 13 +60 minutes) I envision car keys being handed over,
Challenges to my authority, relationships of their own, with the passage of this long hour.
"For The Times; They Are A-Changin" - Dylan -, though now for a clock he would sing.
A hiccup in the fabric of the space time continuum, indigestion of memories made I search.

Looking forward, come October late fall, when we all can regress, yet again,
Reclaiming what we have lost, one hour from yestersecond.

-----ChawzzyScript
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