#parapsychology
The year following
Jimmy's death
(my first encounter,
and my little brother),
I smothered myself
In every read on
Parapsychology,
Astral beings,
OBE's, NDE's,
And plasma projections,
Reincarnation and all
Aberations.
I awarded myself
An Honorary Doctorate
In ******** (Ph. D.B.S.).
Then I met ****** Mary,
As the police called her.
Her keen abilities
Recovered bodies
And the snatchers.
She had a dead-on reputation.
She spoke German and gesticulated
Wildly while she oracled.
Her husband translated simultaneously.
Her sun-room shone,
There were plants on
Every table. No candles.
Perhaps I was mesmerized.
She had one message for me
From the other side:
Tell Francie to leave me alone.
Marlene
(my darling little sister,
And my next encounter),
Had a dream the very same
Day I saw my seer.
She dreamt Jimmy
Was alone,
Crying at home,
And through his tears
She clearly hears:
Tell Francie to leave me alone.
****** Mary was free,
That's right... no fee.
She said her gift
Was for sharing,
And she shared
Her gift with me.
Mar 6, 2015
Mar 6, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
I'm beside myself,
What can I do?
Having an OBE
Because of you.
I'm next to an idiot,
The blame lies with you;
Like an NDE,
I'm leaving you.
Is this a dream?
My life's askew;
I'm not what I seem
Because of you.
My body of bliss
Roams looking for you;
My love for you made
An astral breakthrough.
I'm on a spiritual walk
On a plane that's new;
This plane will crack
If I'm snapped back to you.
A paranormal snafu
That won't do;
But I'll return
When my body's near you.
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 8:13 AM UTC
Near death stories
Are not death tales.
The widow's daughter,
In Nairn, to whom
Did she speak?
In Bethany,
Near Galilee,
Where Lazarus
Learned to talk,
Who asked him
On his walk,
With his dog on a
Sunday afternoon?
Jarius' daughter
Would like to offer
A quote and goat
At the altar
Of atonement.
She was never asked,
So she never spoke.
The scribes never scribbled
To answer the riddle;
They never went to press
With the Extra Big Scoop
On life after death
From the three
Who knew best.
Never recorded for all time.
Never a word from their minds.
Would they tell of a
Long lit tunnel
Lined with familiars
Slapping their astral *****
As they ran the gamut
Into eternity.
Nearing the Eternal Throne,
They hear:
It's not your time.
Go back for more.
Keep the secrets,
Believe in Him,
For he won't
Live to be thirty-four.
And so it's not written,
Let it be so.
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 10:12 PM UTC