[not really a] Sonnet 1759

Oh what it be for thee to put a smile upon my face.

The pitter patter ‘neath my ribs, sweet love,  it makes it race.

Appetite without sincerity? Doth know t’lives here, nigh.

But an evergrowing fondness and true admiration lie.

In the depths of souls of souls, nothing verily could mistake,

The boundaries of my love for thee in one single warm embrace.

T’is but neverending and nor ever shall it cease.

I love you Chris, indeed, I do; so dear and true and sweet.

Chronic, Hopeless Romanticism is Sappy

He’s the reason I smile at all.

If I’m laughing, it’s at something he said.

If my bed isn’t lonely, it’s him that’s snuggled up next to my chest. If my phone rings and I frown, it’s because it’s not him on the other line. If I’m giggling with a devious smile, I’m devising what I would like to do to him. If I’m completely bummed, it’s because I was expecting to see him; but alas, plans fell through.

If I’m dreaming, he’s the lead, the supporting, or even the only other character. If I’m drinking coffee alone, I’m thinking of him. If I’m drinking beer – it’s imported – and he bought it for me. If my phone goes directly to voicemail, I’m probably talking to him and don’t care what you have to say. If you don’t hear from me in a whole weekend, you can bet money that I’m with him.

If there’s a blank, somber stare in my eyes, that’s me desperately wishing I could kiss him. If I have one hand clutching my shoulder and the other draped across my waist: that’s me hoping to know the next time he’ll hold me close. If I’m fiddling with a lighter, that’s me pondering the last time he lit my cigarette. If I’m listening to music, it’s probably some he sent me. If I’m singing a cheerful tune, it’s because he’ll soon be in the driveway for me to be scooped up.

If I’m trying NOT to think of him, you’ll catch me playing mahjong – the jerk has addicted me to it. If I’m watching Mystery Science Theatre with an arm and a leg wrapped around a body pillow –  that’s me pretending to be with him. If I’m inhaling deeply with my eyes fastly-closed shut, I’m savoring his scent. If I’m dancing around like a buffoon, it’s because he’s pleasantly surprised me with something awesome – or possibly something sweet. If I’m blabbering like an idiot, I’m dreadfully sorry: it’s the direct result of the butterflies, flittering about inside my head, which he’s planted there. If you see me writing in my journal, it’s undoubtedly got something to do with him. If I go to sleep with a smile and a sigh, it’s because he made me do it. If I appear in deep thought, I’m contemplating a better way to tell him how I feel. If you catch a glimpse of a tear fall from my cheek, I’m wishing I could close the gap between point A and point B.

If I’m awake and aware that he’s not around, I will dearly be missing him.

But if – and only if – my heart is still beating, am I sure to incessantly be loving him.

 

 

And if you’re reading this now..

I love you Darling..

So very very much

(an excerpt from) My Enigma Caught Your Tear

My Enigma Caught Your Tear

                “The darkness had settled in for the night. Our vivacious laughter filled the air around us as we sat on the floorboard of what seemed to be a moving van. No seats caught my eye that I cared to know whom occupied, including the driver and passenger seat.

Zoned as far out as another terrestrial realm, we were spinning lights in the most miraculously beautiful patterns. Content as we were in our level of consciousness: we submitted our absolute trust in rolling whichever way the vehicle decided to tumble us, like two articles of clothing floating around in a dryer.

And we were reveling in every second of it.

Our laughter was so purely effervescent it became a strenuous effort to complete the simple task of breathing. We quickly figured it the bright thing to save frolicking with the glow sticks for a moment for gaining a point that we could lie down to inhale slowly.

Expanding our chests and then expelling the oddly, (yet wonderfully) sweet air from our lungs, was pleasant beyond comparison. And in our elation we became distracted with the stars; entranced, watching them zip by like tiny snowflakes behind the shiny glass barriers of the windows.

The black canvas of the night sky sprinkled with confectionate sugar, routinely would encounter puffs of deep blue and purple cotton. After a while they were all we could see, and no longer the pretty stars they were impeding. We noticed the shades of blues and purples morph to pinks, and the pinks to smoggy oranges of hues of clouds that overhang cities. We had no idea what city we were traversing about, only that we were in one. And neither of us possessed the want or need to gain that bit of trivial knowledge. It simply did not matter.

Since the stars were no longer present, we began to entertain ourselves with seeing who could follow the dull yellow haze of street security lights the longest. Without it, yet, manifesting to our knowledge that we were following these lights with our eyes right through the roof of the van, and only had to lean our heads back to keep following them for as long as we wanted — we continued our contest.

Nearly half an hour had passed and then, at the same time, we both looked at each other.

We didn’t exchange a single audible word. But then again, we didn’t need to.

The visual scrutinization for information through each other’s pupils transformed quickly into something else entirely. Suddenly, I knew what your pure, undiluted and unadulterated thoughts were. From the expression that smeared itself thickly over your face, leaking to the center of your eyes, I also knew the converse was, in-fact, true.

And so, it was at that precise same moment our conscience became one, we both realized we weren’t merely in a van anymore.

The entire pod-like-structure that we were encapsulated inside, was an oval made entirely of glass. Without relinquishing our hold on the others eyes, we let our peripherals absorb that our minds had been separated from their physical bodies inside that enclosure; and we were, now, traveling rapidly away from them in a half-omniscient/half-first-person split between our physical bodies and what new life-form we had metamorphasized. 

You and I watched ourselves ebb and flow through and within Time.

We were marveled at such an awesome view. It became evident that Time itself wasn’t, in any way, the line that we perceived ourselves to be following when inside that estranged vehicle, going straightforward. We were constantly changing streams of tributaries of rivers of seas of ocean currents of imaginary (yet visible to us both then) waves of time; inter-lapping an interloping. Parallel and perpendicular; its fluid motion like that of a magnified spectacle of the sound-waves procured from vibrating chords of a guitar.

We appeared to be spinning the most immaculate and breathtaking, perpetual spider’s web ever spun.

Stepping outside our consciousness, yet again, observing ourselves even further away, it was as if we both were a tiny encapsulated message being sent from a synapse in a brain, traveling an electrical current to where ever that message’s rendezvous dwelt.

And our minds remained intertwined in those few moments..

As if we shared the same DNA, we were the two intricate strands of nucleotides that spiral in and around themselves to form a double helix. You were my equal and opposite reaction. There wasn’t an infinitesimal fraction of knowledge one possessed that the other had limited access to. We were experiencing through mind, body, and the spirit rigorously, unequivocally, and beyond-a-shadow-of-a-doubt: absolutely and infinitely verbatim.

We exchanged glances a second time and our magnificent surroundings changed with us — back to the interior of our chauffeur-less cabin, that was indeed a vehicle now, shuttling us exponentially faster towards the unknown.

An inexplicable feeling of despair swept through my arteries, veins, and every last capillary of my entity like a disease, and engulfed me. I knew well that we both knew our journey’s end was eminent, and its limits were being reached sooner rather than later.

So just before our senses were immersed into a devouring abyss of black obscurity, we saved ourselves one last profound glimpse of one another and spoke  simultaneously together, a remorseful whisper.

“Remember me.”

The desperate air of pleading those four syllables exuded through our tone made the walls of my throat hot and my chest burn with anxiety.

I’d had only enough time to follow a quickly-swelled droplet from your right tear-duct, feel it fall from my left cheek, and watch it stop in mid-air before we proclaimed in unison for worlds away to know that, “Forevermore,” would we would indeed remember one another; and it was then that we were captivated by complete and utter darkness.

*                      *                      *

               As gracefully as dying — or as easily as falling down a rabbit hole — I fell into a comatose state, and could no longer sense your presence.

 *                      *                      *

                I seemed to be paralyzed without sleep for what could have been months or even years. There are no words I could possibly implicate to describe how lonely it was roaming aimlessly inside the hallways of my own mind without a light to guide me, for such a horribly long, immeasurable amount of time — being completely, miserably aware of the nothingness.

Though suddenly, I thought I saw a single yellow ball of light ahead, near where my feet should be. However, even the mere thought of me feeling something (after my senses having been so deprived) was foreign to me.

Color had not touched my eyes from the void that consumed it in decades..

Sound had not impeded the drums of my ears in millenniums..

Sweat had not trickled along the edge of my epidermis, consciously making its salty surface itch, in eras long past..

I was neither hot nor cold. My flesh had not felt temperature of or from another being and my tendons had not been put to use in eons; nor had seen or felt the fabrics which clothed my body, in just as long..

What was I supposed to believe? My reality was held only in my own perception. For how long had I been trapped as an essence of my presence but not allowed the luxury of feeling it?

I thought maybe my mind was playing tricks — taunting me with what I wanted to believe — to believe I had hope of escaping this limbo and everlasting prison.

I began to try to rise off what I can only relate to that of a floor, fighting the atrophy that had long since fermented in my muscles, to see what this illumination (if it was even real) might be.

As my hips rotated to support the weight of my upper torso and its movement, I realized I could feel. Only fractionally so, but I felt myself being ever-so-slowly elevated.

Yes!

I could feel the heavy weights of my eyelids painstakingly lifting themselves slow as anchors being reeled into their docks. I was squinting; scrutinizing my target intently. Like a sloth, deduced to the most droning speed without still remaining motionless, the further up off the floor I rose, the brighter the light became. But only as slowly as I could manage to reel in the rest of the anchors that had held me down for so long.

I was emerging from the deepest slumber; resurrected from what could have well been death. The warm blood that hadn’t visited tunnels of my veins since I last took gaze into the windows of your soul, was rejuvenating. It overwhelmed me — made me hungry for strength and for the life I’d been denied. I pushed myself harder to enable the aid of my arms, reaching toward this light that I only hoped you could see too — Wherever the sands of time and the universe had dropped you into its infinite and beastly, dark realms.

Closer and closer I became, and brighter and brighter the light shone before me, but my head was only nearly five or so inches off the invisible floor. It would take me centuries to succeed in doing something that may not even reap any kind of reward. I felt as if I would cry, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t even wallow in my own self-pity. I almost gave up..

Then my mind traveled to realm all to its own, and I pondered: if one was known to be brave and revered for their bravery and kind doing amongst others, should they not save a last drop of their bravery for themselves — lest cowardice overcome their might — and no solitary soul is to see this act; does it count? Does all their benevolence elope this precipice of pusillanimity? Could the reverse possibly be the answer? In the end, would the dastardliness prevail over valor or would all deeds good and bad simply cancel each other out: ordaining their soul devoid of any character, absconding their spirit without disposition, honorable or abominable?

I could have stopped right then. I could have sunk back into the mysterious depths of a sea that not even I really knew the extent of. I could have given up and died inside myself, forever to remain in the Nothingness. No matter if any one entity would ever know what was to become of me — of what choice I would make — I would be beside myself forever. Beside a rotten, subservient coward whom couldn’t amass the energy to save them self from peril.

I almost gave away the very life I had been fighting for my entire existence, but in my deliberation, my subconscious was growing louder and louder; pushing its way to the forefront of my thoughts. There was absolutely no way — in the Hell I only just exited — that I would be doing that for eternity.

Suddenly, I knew what I had to do.

Be that light before me, tangible or not, with every last shred of energy — I had to reach it.”


Welcome to the Tip of the Iceberg of My Most Intricate, Illustrious Mind..

This is the developing and ever-evolving compilation of my works as a more-than-mediocre-but-less-than-extraordinary writer. My literary works are either products from the obscure depths of my labyrinthine dreams, or (even as young as it may be) my rather cultured imagination — and not to forget my real-life experiences. These are my attempts to explore the elements of my interest and change my enigmatic and esoteric thoughts and considerations to something fathomable, or at least to make a valiant effort in doing so.

Enjoy! And please feel free to leave any comments, concerns or criticism. It will be greatly appreciated.

–Marisa JoBeth