A True Fiction of Omniscience

People talk about me, but some are afraid to speak my name without worrying. I am omnipresent, yet many of you don’t realize that I exist in everybody. I am both mysterious and romantic. More about me later, let us commence the story.

When the people truly feel my presence, I change lives. Off the time machine, we are now back in January 2010. Emotions are running high. After quite a long break from visiting each other, two teenagers were ready to let me into their lives.

“Hey Jackson.” A tall blonde guy stopped his thought to look down at the origin of the voice. He looked downwards at the redheaded woman with glasses. She was truly a spectacle to see.

“Yes Betty?” Jackson glanced directly into the steel blue eyes that always showed emotion, those same eyes that he had always adored. Those eyes that could heat his heart while radiant. Those eyes that could break him to pieces while experiencing hurt.

“I need to tell you something.” Her eyes were difficult to read at this point, looking somewhere between getting moist or shining brighter than had ever been achieved before.

“What is it, baby?” The young looking, innocent face of the male counterpart looked very confused. With my help, he was still able to look her in the eyes while speaking to her. However, when her reaction to this response was heavily delayed, the young man started to feel discouraged. She caught grip of her thoughts and emotions, however, and continued with her conversation.

“I…I Love you.”

I have finally been spotted in this place. This 19-year-old truly was convinced that she found me in this boy who looks like he was lost in the midst of transformation into a man. Like I said about myself before, however, I am both mysterious and romantic. More simply, you will find me when you least expect it. She spoke the name of Love.

Jackson was taken aback by this action. Sure, she definitely was into him, and yes, he most certainly cared an awful lot about her. Did he feel my presence as well through his immature mind and his life story? At this point, his lips separated slightly. It was nothing romantic, this 18-year-old just felt scared. His mind took a rewind back to the last person that he experienced me in. He needed to force himself to breathe. He looked off in the distance, as if to try to find possible words for this situation.

Could he find me? Better question. Could he believe in me if he were to find me around? Well, it’s now or never. Betty took it to the next level, and Jackson could find me fast or not have to worry about her any longer.

“Jackson?” Two years passed before he answered. He played every scenario possible in his mind. It was actually fifteen seconds, but I am abstract. I do not have to pay attention to the physical limitations of the world.

“I Love you too.” Whether or not he believed it as much as he could have, he did feel my presence in the space. And I am the omniscient narrator, mind you, so I know for a matter of fact that he did feel Love. The lips of the two kept inching closer and closer. The breaths became more labored as they inched towards each other very very slowly. Their lips brushed, and then they collided. Inside of their mouths was a slow dance of the tongues against each other. That is what we like to call Love in Motion.

“Everybody laughs, everybody cries
Sure it can hurt you, baby
But give it a little try
See that's the thing about Love”

- Alicia Keys

Alicia Keys described me perfectly. Pardon the interruption from the story, but I am the narrator, which means that I can narrate my own thoughts perfectly well, thank you very much. Anyhow, the story gets left off at their tongues brushing against each other. For those who think that I am innocent, please do not fall in me. Anyhow, let us fast forward to the next scene.

The motley two decided to leave and go back to the dormitories. When they got back, they took to their favorite activity – cuddling. They snuggled up in Betty’s bed, allowing their body heat to emanate off one another as they pulled the covers over their heads. Jackson, being the kind of man to hate clothes, took off his shirt and threw it on the spotless floor. He had your average body. Slightly over six feet, not too toned, but some large feet. Just your normal. He put his arms around Betty in a hug at first, and he allowed his hands to linger down the wrinkles of her pink shirt to her waist, decorated in some dark jeans. She grabbed the wrists of both of his hands and pulled them slightly further down her waist, and then up to her stomach. Jackson took this opportunity to lift her shirt to slightly above her navel and play with her navel piercing. His hands meandered their way back around her waist, and the noises went from breathing to kissing again.

Betty, as can be guessed so far, was a complete angel to Jackson. Everything he wanted was coming to be. Everything he needed was found in her embrace. He was everything she wanted. She found solace in his eyes. That being said, their cuddling was turning pretty intense. Betty was now positioned above Jackson on the bed, and her shirt was removed. Underneath, a pair of large breasts was partially held in by a pink bra. Alicia Keys was tinkering on her piano in the background with that soulful croon that makes Lovers Love even more.

“Have that reckless Love
That crazy Love
That off the wall won't stop till I get enough kind of Love
I need that Love
So baby, let's go”

After this, the pair decided to try to find that crazy Love. And find it they did. They gave their bodies to each other in a gesture to me for four hours, starting and stopping, but not without a plethora of massive culminations of the experience.

However, there is a reason for privacy. In fact, some may see it as a closed-door policy. But hey. Catch me if you can. These two teenagers found me in the height of their lives, and it’s not difficult to find me. Just look in the right places, and I should show up without condition.

Poems by Mary J

TO CLIMB

To climb out of bed in the morning or maybe afternoon feet on cold tile, icy and empty. Yawning through eyes still clouded by sleep and memories from the night before like stickers on the inside of your eyelids.

Floating through a day in a haze of maybes and I don’t know the answer to your inquiries about the height of my confidence or the origins of fear stained shoes too afraid to leap forward could you hold my hand so I don’t

Fall.

To fall perhaps onto concrete possibly grass but probably not knowing that patterns of your tracks and the moment you want to stay down on the ground making pillows out of asphalt, trash bag blankets, the comfort of a bed, knowing to stay is not an option only

To climb first on hands and knees crawling like a toddler before he knows there’s so much happening above his head so you climb onto wobbly knees unsure if you remember how to walk but at least,

To stand on two feet feeling black ink swirl into night around you drenching the day with a cloak of disguise and so,

To climb. Into a cigarette alone at 3 a.m. on the porch when reality has blurred and all you can see is smoke snakes distorting and collapsing truth into bubbles of muck so you disappear into what if’s and visions of,

To be climbing above and around blossoming into curves, roundabouts, upward glances into frost covered trees.

Hills growing into bumps of molten earth bitten by crystal water running, running, running, twirling cascading pathways crying down, down, down.

But still, to climb and heave upwards onwards towards vastness, the humps transform like dinosaurs waking a million years later to stretch, gulp the breath of salvation returning from the dead.

To be alive.

And they become mountains that stretch like the craning of a neck toward uncertainty, to the awkwardness of disbelief, careening upwards to peaks of ice covered perfection snow like gloss paper ready for collapse, manipulation. Distinction.

To climb past gravity into, into, into whatever is there, to whatever it is.

To outer space. Stars like ancient dwellings in the sky inhabit this black hole. They glisten predicting imminent turmoil attracting wishes while drifting through breathless timespace generating no form of understanding merely existing as inconspicuous super hero’s dying for implosion.

LEARNING TO DROWN

Its like an exhale after being held under water against your will

By your father at the swimming pool

On a sticky afternoon in August

When the clouds are looming dangerously in the distance,

Threatening to release their load

Into the vat of water

Where you’re gasping already for some

Dry air

And the kids on the diving board

Are swimming up instead of down,

Up, up, up into the clouds

And you’re worried they’re going to get sucked

Into those heavy clouds

And then they do,

Disappeared inside waiting to be rained back into the pool.

Its like that moment you know

That your eyes are betraying you

And perhaps your ears too.

Knowing or not knowing you’ve been released

Into some extraordinary momentary lapse of reality.

Feeling that even though you’re gasping

Its ok to let go and fall into the chaos of being held underwater.

You are full and impenetrable,

Oozing the satisfaction of swimming

In your own private release.

OF NATURE

Resounding forces sometimes pull

Like gravity driven raindrops,

Propelled from the heavens gasping mouth

Into the possibility of being alive.

I strive for the trees

Where the breath of the universe gives way

To an explosion of energy and

Light and green magic bursting into beingness.

Burst out of your bark cannon

Into something anything anyone

So I might consume the insides of the world.

Stuff myself till I burst into ninety nine rain drops,

A resounding force not to be reckoned with

For fear that my pure energy might consume you

And pull you deeply into the comfort of exhale.

DOESNT HAVE A TITLE

two rivers meet
at the end of the world

hes a little wild ray of light
dancing perilessly close to the abyss
endless

he sings and the world sings
embroidered with black moss
drenched in stars
which are melting away

he is a dualistic creature
lost in the ether
wrought with compromise
and blind eyes
a foreigner without color
grounded in idealism
rooted in experience

he is compelled by the wind
driven to explore, exploit
the vastness of cosmic instability
the paradox of belief

a playful trickster
who cannot be tammed
who should never be smothered
a perpetual circle
leading me into the blissful field
where he waits
patiently
for his redemption

THE NURTURER

i was born of the earth

driven from the depths

of the smoldering core

of the cooling crust

of the muds dripping with life that

course through my veins

as lightning does

through stormy patterns in the sky

i am the breath of the universe

injecting myself with the stars of

the infinite shadows

blowing radiance in through your ears

penetrating your eyes

to your deepest vessel of blood

that gives you the nourishment of life

consuming you

until we are one

i am saturated

charged

with the electricity

of the heavens

that longs

to pour down

through the depths of my body

where it waits

yearning

for the moment of its

release

into your being

that craves

my nurturing touch

as the sun desires

the moons soft liberation