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jennee Oct 2015
Scatter the ashes that have become steady flesh
Before someone collects them to bury the remains in a false cemetery
Scatter them quickly into the flowing rivers and high up in the skies
I am parallel to their world; I am the closest to death

Ligaments and veins that was once compelling
Supreme yet a puppet to garrulous demons
An artistic treasure box of limited oxygen
Fell victim to powerless witnesses that chose to keep their silence

When our bodies collapse and our hearts expire
Revive my breath with visitations and flowers
Although I am now a river and a turbid sky
I am parallel to your world yet I am right here by your side

n.j.
https://perennialink.wordpress.com/2015/10/17/when-our-bodies-collapse-and-our-hearts-expire/
eeriewisdom Oct 2015
my essence hides on season tides
that watch my flock with eyes hawk wide
the hills, the trees, the harmonies
reside inside the endless seas
swimming through the timing to
the cliffs of peace that god once knew
we stand and scream atop life's seam
and animate this clockwork dream

freedom lies in love's warm hold
a trying tale the ages told
these shackles be but soon undone
and thus the bliss and I breathe one
we sew the skies and weave the ground
and drink the love that's all around
a bodiless embodiment
of all of nature's gold intent

I'll meet you here when your time comes
and vibrate still with beating drums
a goodbye glance that stills your heart
the end ends here; extends your start
of all the angels, echelons
and mighty kings that bring the dawns
I'm glad it's you who saved me from
the welcome words that aren’t well come

but time is short and must I say
we'll meet again one fateful day
my grace resides until your end
much love my love, my heart, my friend
D Oct 2015
The more I learn,
the more I see religion as a man-made idea
to make us feel that we are some how special
compared to all the other life on earth.
I think I'm scared to accept this
because without my fear of the afterlife,
what else is really keeping my spirit
tethered to this world?
Love?
My need to not present myself
as a burden to others?
i d k . . .
Marie Poindexter Oct 2015
I know and feel nothing.
No pain of the body,  or guilt of the Mind.  Not the sacrifices ripped from my fingers, nor the responsibilities wrapped around my neck .
Though I'm surrounded by nothing but darkness and silence, there is no fear. Only silent acceptance.
I know not where I am or how long I have been there.  I don't know if I'm missing someone or if someone's  missing me.
I am darkness.
I am the unassuming silence.
      After some time, how long I know not,
I feel...tingles.
First in my toes..
Then my legs, hips, stomach, face.
A soothing wave of white noise spreading through and around me.
My body has returned to me.
I muster the strength to open my eyes, again met with the same darkness that I have taken solace in.
I sit up just as a dim light appears from everywhere and nowhere.
Illuminating my surroundings.
Walls... Steel walls.
I'm in a room it seems, a very large room at that.
Comforting, protecting...
Holding me in its silent chambers.
A cool, soft breeze rubs against my skin, tickling the hairs.
I hear footsteps in the distance.
Something-  
Someone-   is approaching.
A shadow just out of reach, stops and regards me.
With its voice on the wind, it whispers
“ You have passed your trials and have won your battles. Your gift awaits you.”
The shadow turned and walked back into the darkness.
Leaving me to ponder at its message.
As I sit and stare out into dark  I feel something, soft and strange.
Grass...
Grass under my fingers, growing from the floor. Soft and cool under my touch.
The room is changing before my eyes.
I look up to see a sky of stars and clouds. And around me, a field of the greenest grass.
The moonlight dimming every so often as the clouds pass by.
The wind, stronger now in its caress, whistles sweetly through the grass.
I lay back to the ground as chimes play soothingly around me.
As my body sinks into the earth I think, Such sweet silence  that has been bestowed upon me.
I'm not really sure what to call this.  It's not so much a poem but a story I suppose. I wrote  this with the thought in my head of "what if when we die,  everyone has their own personal heaven?".  This would be mine :)
CL Oct 2015
We will soar through the sky hand in hand,
bouncing from clouds of ecstasy to utopia,
no longer fearful of the demonic world in which society tries to control and oppress.

An unstoppable energy of fearless expression and loving creativity, we will find refuge within freedom.

We will wrap ourselves in the essence of the other and melt into one,
to be carried away atom by atom,
to a place of nirvana where our souls will reside evermore.
Purple Rain Sep 2015
A ticking time bomb about to explode
The grasp of my skin is hard and cold,
Eyes shutter like cold winter winds
As it feels as if I'm naked,
And bold winter is my friend
Crying and begging
Standing on my last branch of snow,
I feel it coming
a sneeze and a blow,
It will make me collapse
and die into the cold, burning hell below
Unable to die automatically,
Frost bitten is what will withhold
My afterlife is dark and sorrow
Stone Fox Sep 2015
"That also has a steep drop off the far side of Home Sweet Hell" said my soulless guide as he pointed in the direction of the nearby screams.
I could see what resembled silhouettes or smeared shadows  of something being thrown or tossed off the side of the tallest tower in sight.  
There were so many falling at once the blur of any kind of outline in this smokey medieval lighting was impossible and began to strain my eyes.
"They're throwing bodies over the edge, a necessary task for the good of our home." he continued as he watched me watching the horrific scene of what now was confirmed as bodies.
"They were rotting and now they will rot even faster engulfed in flames!" he exclaimed with a smirk. "It's quiet clever really, it serves two purposes as one form of torture while at the same time feeding the eternal damnation fires of hell. We recently have undergone new management so our productivity points have never been higher." He seemed to wear that smirk like a proud badge as he bragged about the last part. No doubt he was most likely the new management, possibly the one who would decide my fresh new hell.
He gave a new meaning to the expression "milky white" and had a paleness that was almost purple.  Freakishly tall which wouldn't have been so bad if he wasn't as thin as a runway model-and that was putting it politely. He was dressed in a crimson velvet  suit like some dapper don vampire with the chilling accessory of sharp dead eyes. He exuded terror all around while stroking my anxiety in the most uncomfortable metaphorical rhythm.
With his you-know "devil may care" attitude he attempted to smooth out a newly noticed wrinkle in his crimson red velvet sports jacket.  
"Even in Hell, one must always look their Sundays best or in the flames you go!" he giggled laughing at his own joke. I neither laughed or even reacted, instead I ignored him and continued to watch the screaming falls.
The worker bees or drones-or whatever you're supposed to mindless underlings from hell, were now headed for a v-shape among the only body that was not tossed from the tallest tower. Instead it was hanging off a wall like a common prized Picasso at the end of the biggest hall in Hell. Or so my tour guide informed me.
The brutish beasts were poking, stabbing, biting, pulling, cutting, slapping, and slashing the hanging form. "Go then and take her down" My Dracula impersonator  whispered in my ear, making me jump at the stealthness it took him to invade my personal space. "Go on" he urged as he moved even more closer to me. "But-" he then said looking down the hallway "who is to say her sin is not greater than yours?" he asked while stroking his chin.  "In fact" he continued, "Save her and see how quickly you will be the one to replace her. "
I found myself asking "is her sin greater than mine?" for she no longer even resembled a "she" and I couldn't hide my disgust this prisoner she's appearance.
My five star tour guide squealed "Why heavens yes!" unable to contain it's laugher. "She makes your sin look like childsplay! he continued to cackle while saying "I wouldn't go bragging about your list of ***** deeds that got you here they are not that flattering. Or noteworthy really. You're lucky if you amount to anything other than flame feeder on Hell's roster." He then very seriously added, "but  if it was not for the Simple Sinners we would have no souls to keep most of our demons from going hungry. After all we only get fed once every hundred years when we are not topside."
I noticed the dead bodies recently just fallen into flames were starting to return slowly to our intimate greeting party. Most were empty handed or even handless, while all were naked but almost identical in the scorched rotted appearance, no *** could be identified.  
"They will be joining us for the rest of our tour" Vampire Lestat informed me following my gaze. He started walking down the hall and I followed as close behind as I could while maintaining a safe distance from both sets of company.
Without looking at me, Red Velvet started saying, "most crazies dispose of bodies because thats what they consider normal. But here in Hell, we find keeping them is productive torture. You see staying in ones body after death is unnatural and therefor uncomfortable, almost painful.  So you can see why it is useful to keep souls in their meat suits. We also make them do physical labor like any good slave when the torture has become boring and is no stimulating.
I was suddenly feeling woozy and felt confident I was just as pasty white as my velvet wearing guide.  I couldn't shake the disgusting smell of flesh, blood, ***, *****, and pizza from nose. In a meek whisper I muttered "I don't like this.." My words were greeted with a smug "Join the club Sweetheart, no one likes it here but thats the point isnt it? Welcome to your doomed end, your Home Sweet Hell. "
Tears welled up in my eyes and before they could fall to my cheek my thin velvet guide slapped me with such a unbelievable force that I felt my skull vibrating. I was shocked at the guides brute strength for such a blow and considered the possibility maybe this was a vampire. I could feel my tears start to reform and was met with another blow. This time they came with a side order of screams that said, "NO POINT FOR TEARS NOW! YOU WERENT ACTING LIKE A LITTLE ***** WHEN YOU SINNED TO GET HERE, SO YOU'RE NOT GOING TO ACT LIKE A LITTLE ***** NOW THAT YOU ARE HERE."
I had no time to protest, to react, to do anything and even if I had he was right. I knew what I was doing. My guide started pushing me while still yelling "IT'S TIME YOU EMBRACE THAT YOU ARE IN THE PITT AND THERE IS NO MERCY! NOW ON THE CHOPPING BLOCK WITH YOU!"
He threw me in the closest room  that was completely pitch black as he yelled "FRESH MEAT" that served as our farewell.
As he made his exit with his herd of bodies, his dead eyes were the last thing to see.
First draft
Paul Butters Aug 2015
“Where am I?”

Have I been transferred to hospital during the night?

I raise my head. Before me is a seemingly endless row of cubicles, each containing a bed upon which some person lies. Each person wearing a helmet and wired and piped into the back wall.

To my right is the side-wall to my own cubicle. To my left an identical wall. Some male doctor is sitting next to me, to my right, and to my left there is a female nurse.

Doctor: “Welcome back Paul.”

Me: “Where am I?”

Doctor: “Reality Paul.”

Me: “Reality???”

Memories of “The Matrix” and comical “Red Dwarf” flash across my mind. MMM. Yes, I’ve still got a mind.

Nurse: “Relax Paul, everything will be all right.

Doctor: “Paul, you just died from old age, very old age, in your sleep. Best way to go.”

Me: “Really???”

Doctor: “That’s right. You really bought it didn’t you. I’m sorry, but that was not Reality! This is. And you have not really died at all. In fact, Paul you are very much alive.

Earth, The UK, London…they are all fabrications. All fiction. And all that history and science those experts told you, it was all wrong. Only this is real!”

He gestures at everything around us as he speaks. But now he reaches for a dial on a console next to my bed.

Doctor: “When we put you into ‘Earthworld’ Paul, all your memories of reality were temporarily erased. But now it’s time to debrief. Now it’s time for you to Remember The Truth…”

And he turns the dial…

Paul Butters
After watching short film 12.01 PM
Dreams of Sepia Aug 2015
Hello.
Enjoy.

I am a soup
tomato, preferably

especially savored
in the winter

with a pinch of Salt
or Pepper or a naughty dob of Cream

When I'm warmed up hot
I giggle,

tickled by bubbles
rising through me

In my can I prayed to the spoon
oh let the kingdom come

imagined soup
just flowing free

& then I flowed
& saw the Spoon

it came for me
I trembled in love

but now, I do not know where Soups go
for now I see only this darkness round me

will I be re-born
into something?

The pepper seemed to think
we are re-born into other beings

he was hoping to become
a butterfly

I hope he got
his wish.
I hope I haven't offended anyone with this poem or what I'm about to say. I wrote it because sometimes I think we cannot really know for sure what's round the corner, no matter whether we are atheist or religious. If we believe in an afterlife, we could find that there is an unknown afterlife after the afterlife, find that we're living through an afterlife designed according to another religion's beliefs rather than our own, or find that there's nothing. Or, if we believe in nothing, find that there is something. I guess we'll find out when the time comes.
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