A True Fairy Tale, One I witnessed with my own eyes

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I’m been writing this poem a very, long time you see
I’ve been thinking and searching and smiling with glee as I’ve
I’m been writing this poem of their love’s history
Antonina and Levi a truly beautiful and wondrous pair
A couple whose love story is simply beyond compare
Once they were together
I saw a change in my twin
I saw her look at his photo
And helplessly grin
So the day he came I wondered what to say
To the man my twin might marry someday
The day I met Levi I’ll never forget
Because I was going to my first Bears game and I was hyper, you bet
Levi was calm and quiet
Sometimes he can be a riot but this time
He listened kindly to my joyous chatter
To him my words, my joy did matter
Bears vs. patriots in the snow
But I knew no matter what I would go
I could tell the moment we met
That he was the one she’d never forget
It was on that day that I knew
That they’d be together
No matter the weather
No matter the situation
They would smile in jubilation
See the day I met him
He accepted me in who I am
Then I felt it bam
In my heart I started to see
How we’d all one day be a family
The more he came the more I knew
That Antonina and Levi’s Love was powerful, beautiful, and true
Levi was immediately like a brother
There was really no other
Better to talk books, football, whatever I wanted
He listened and joked with me
I felt so incredibly happy
We would go out as a group of five and he was up for anything
The kindness in his heart was a truly wonderful thing
He fit in our family like a glove
This lovely gift from God above
I met his parents lovely people too
My love for my new brother grew
Then on the day of the rehearsal the first thing Jordan said to me
Was welcome to the family
I felt so welcomed I felt so blessed
I felt in my heart that I could rest
I noticed something then and there
The way they care about each other
The way they stare in each other’s eyes
The way they prepare
Things for each other
So people might say oh brother
Not me
I say what a blessing before for the world to see
In both their parents they have examples of beautiful love
Bozena and Jan
Jay and Ashly
Two couples with beautiful love stories of their own
Their example of love divine
Showed Antonina and Levi
A love that’s sublime
Now as your first Christmas as man and wife
I know you’ll love each other the rest of your life
And so much longer
And so much stronger
Because together the two of you
Show how powerful love is
When it’s true
Nothing will ever come between you
Because you have a bond
Of each other you are more than fond
On this Christmas night I say
I saw a miracle of love on your wedding day
I say good luck but you don’t need it
Because you two are remarkable as can be
Now that I’ve written your love history
I think I know
That your love for one another will always continue to grow
So Levi since her heart you did win
Please take good care of my twin

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War Stories from my Father, in the Honor of Poland

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If there’s one thing I know, it is that telling stories is more difficult then telling tales. Telling stories is waiting for the moment when your friend is listening, I mean really listening and you pour out your feelings. Telling tales is adding or subtracting from what actually happened, and that is a lie. These “tall tales” or metafictional works of the imagination are what our narrator wants us to watch out for. O’Brien points this out right away- that metafiction is where truth and fake diverge. He indicates that when you see a horrid event, reality leaves you for a while. Sometimes the truth, meaning what actually happened, is so hard to digest that you want something pleasant in the story. The author indicts that those stories are half truth or less. This entire chapter in it’s self is a threshold between what really happened and what people want you to believe. Nature plays a key role in how “he died was almost beautiful.” Curt Lemon died, yes, but O’Brien toys with reality in my mind until the truth comes out. That’s the trouble with war stories, O’Brien declares. I agree, for when he says that they are supposed to hurt the stomach, I can attest to that myself.

When I was really sick in bed, last night actually, and I thought of a question, one I have wanted to know for years my dad was at my side. I was feeling nauseous, and in incredible amounts of pain. My dad stayed with me almost the entire night leading into the day. The question I asked him baffled him, I knew right away in his tone. His answer was even more shocking. Actually, the story he told is still intriguing me, how against even the evils of Hitler my grandfather, whom I never met survived the Second World War. The story translated into English went like this:

My father was the leader of about ten other men. (I ask how many) Ten, he says. (Then he pauses for a while lost in thought, and continues.) They were the men who gave information back to the Allies’ powers, but when the Russian men came, they knew. They knew that my dad was not on Hitler’s side, so they had a plan. A plan to kill the men, he said. (Then he paused, this time a different pause- a sad pause. Seeing my eyes in the dim light filled with intrigue he continued slowly though. I was scared of what was to come of the men. My fears came true when he suddenly told the rest of the story. I thought maybe the men…, when my dad seeing my imagination going went on too.) Four of them were caught the next day, taken to Siberia where they were brutally done away with. (Heads cut off or something worse I asked my dad.) It was probably worse knowing Stalin but not for your ears child. The next dawn, my father and his remaining men escaped quietly, quickly and most importantly ( my dad said) without a chase. (How far I asked?) From the tip of Illinois to the border of Iowa (for I needed an estimated route), and stayed there until they knew no one would come back to their hideout. My father just knew, child, he knew that it was safe, and so they came back and worked. More alert now, my dad says. He wasn’t taken ( he declared). To the working camp either, the death camp, he ran away from that also. (How, I asked) God, he said. He was a good man, Maria. (I wished I had met him.) Then my dad says he wishes also. After that, he was quiet and I swear I could see tears forming at the brim of his pale, tired eyes. Then I asked one final question, and asking it almost made me cry, so I cannot imagine what it must have done for him.

Do you miss your dad? Yes, too much his said. That is why child, I think of Poland less, or differently. Because I do not have a mom or a dad. Hearing him say that aloud at 50, for the first time baffled me, but just then I began rapid coughing once again. So he helped me. For hours, and his mind was on helping me, but his eyes felt strange. I think his eyes where in Poland.

Ode to My Mother (The power of her love)

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Ode to someone I love so much
But only say the bad and ugly about
She buys the chive cheese, flaxseed breed,
And spinach wraps that only I eat.
One time at night I was angry at
the world, and her too.
She slipped a Prince Polo bar
Underneath my bedroom door. (My Favorite)
When I was little she taught
Me how to read and to do multiplication.
I learned how to shave
How to cook scrambled eggs.
There was a time I was really
Quiet and she braided my hair.
I did everything she asked
And I never asked for anything back.

Things changed on the flip on a dime
I was suddenly tall as a tree
Loved football, loved power tools,
Loved law and order SVU and spending
A lot of time at the movies
The beautiful, touching language of Polish
Became one of Harsh tones
Ode to my mother for having
The patience to cook, garden, vacuum
And still love me.
She shortens all my jeans
Deals with the very unlady-like screaming at Bears game.
(Every Single Sunday)

Ode to my mother for having four kids
We all went to different colleges
She let us all have the honor of band
The pure love of music
Her and my father
Spent literally a fortune of their
Money. Instruments for all of us.
Lessons. She came to every concert.
She was the field trip mom.
We always brought the best desserts too.
Ode to her beauty and love for Julia Roberts.
Ode to her love of dancing.
Ode to the culture I love.
The culture I am.

Ode to taking my picture on the
First day of high school.
To cooking and teaching me to
Be calm, gentle, and lady-like. (trying)
Trying to instill in my soul
Good morals.
Taking me to church.
For giving me the two biggest
Gifts which are life and Antonina.
You laughed so much when
You watched Elf. I smiled all night.
I am sorry for everything.
There are too many things
I have said I want to take back.
I am so sorry I ripped
That necklace off my neck
Five years ago. You left my room
In so much pain.
Przepraszam. (I’m Sorry.)

Ode to your love mom
To your language
To you curling my hair,
Making me Chicken Tuna
Making me just tea.
Ode to watching Steel Magnolias.
Kocham Cie. (I love you.)

Forever
Always
Till the day
I go to
Meet my maker
And much much
Longer than that.

Ode to your hair
Your voice
Your Spongebob laugh
That way you save money so we can survive
That way you have a green thumb
That way you drive me to school
That way you will let go one day
So I can fly
Dziekuje (Thank you)