The Poetry Class. Words from a Mystic Child

The Poetry Class
July of 2001
Brooke Makai Noel

Yesterday, I went to a poetry reading with my dad. It was good.
Not many people showed. But it was fun, I mean it wasn't bad
and I had a good time.

We read, did some activities, and near the end of the class the
teacher talked about her own poetry. It wasn't what she said,
but what she thought, when people talk they open a small half
inch scar that acts as an opening into one's thoughts. Only
certain people can see through them though, this is because
only certain people look close enough.

I am one of those people, I stared into the portal, and was
instantly hit. I was caught off guard by the wave of
thunderous thought, and fell in face first.

Once inside I almost drowned in the deepness. Once I found
something familiar I could hold on to, I read her mind. I was
surprised at first, but it did not last long. I found that we
thought the same when we were in what I liked to call a
writers mood.

Her perception was familiar, I laughed as I recognized the
frustration in her head as she tried to deal with the thousands
of ideas that came in her mind, although she knew she would
use only one of them.

I swam into her icy pool of thoughts, I dove through robes of
silken ideas, and basked in visual mind scenes of summer
skies. I felt the free fall feeling her physical thoughts
brought. In my own mind I concluded that thoughts could be
felt, touched, tasted, seen, and heard.

Which is why people are easily confused with reality
after they awake from a dream, or have been thinking freely
for a long period of time. After all, dreams are only very
concentrated thought, that include all senses.

That is what I reasoned as I tip-toed carefully on a flickering
image that was about to be forgotten. The intensity of her
thought confused me with reality very much.

I had never smelled, heard, tasted, seen, or felt anything this
sharp. It was beyond what reality felt like, it was so far ahead
of anything I had experienced I had great trouble estimating
how far ahead of my experiences it was, because I could not
even see it's place as I stood in my experiences that had taken
place from before I could remember to about ten minuets
ago.

Then all of a sudden I was forced into such speed that the air
I was half way through breathing was ripped out of my lunges.
I was too surprised to take another breath on that unexpected ride.

The new abilities I needed to clearly see her thoughts I'm not
sure how to explain. In the least I could see each and every
pebble on pluto. I could smell the dust on Jupiter. I could
feel a fan blowing on the other side of the world. I could
heard snow fall in a crazy party with 450 people crammed
into a one story house.

The burst of this new ability left me so overwhelmed I was
knocked to the hard line of forgotten, blank space. It was
hard, and I fell hard. When I awoke I was no longer in her
mind, but in the story room in which we where having the
poetry reading.

I wondered if I entered her mind, or stayed in my own. But
the intensity was not something I think anyone would
imagine, even I could not reanimate it in my own mind. I
started out the door, confused with what had happened only a
minute ago.

I began to have an argument with myself in my own mind. I
thought I was just imagining what had happened, but I knew
I could not take use of my senses that intense anywhere, at
anytime.

I could not explain any of what just happened, it did not scare me though.
I was not a scientist, and things I could not explain I wondered about it a lot,
but left it alone. Even though it was hard to do, I knew I had to
leave this alone... for now!