Experiences in Reincarnation

There within your lips notably tangled

An undelivered message about your mangled

Thoughts about right and wrongdoings

How you are left behind and so taken advantage

Breathe in and rest your eyes on the heavens

Understand that life has unending lessons

Perhaps we agreed to fulfill the duties

Pressure and persuasive anglings

Until the last class in Pieces with Pieces rising

We are meandering our paths and often hurting

The wounds slashed open again and again

Laying down the whips as my heart is driven

Down to the earth below the tears

Wishing it would end and quite nothingness to discern

But nonetheless after nightfall shall be Monday

Then Tuesday, Wednesday, so forth to Saturday

Again and again each week of life

Then another day in several lifetimes forward

Perhaps lovers then or circus clown fools

Running about telling everyone’s story

Reading palms, stealing bread, running a business

Who knows what we’ll choose to linger the cruel

Sadly it is love of one more than the other

And one giggles after the birth of the other

Jumping into many births chasing the other

Never crying at death for it’s just a game

Never ending tragedy for everything is the same

Let it rest, I tell you! Let us go!

And one day in heaven we’ll greet and whoa

Because resting from battling, warring fights

Brings clearer perspectives into our sites

Let the Middle East go to bed, so that their eyes will smile.

And peace and safety will jive in their prides, and rest in the kingdoms by giving up the rights.

Sleep well little children and kiss each other goodnight.

Call it quits.

The end.

BoJenn 2018

All Rights Are Reserved

Human Euthanasia

You ask what is on my mind and I need to say some things that are difficult.

Should I go on beyond our image of a healthy life may I request that you plainly not keep me alive

In a cage of sicknesses sadness and poops

Just simply let me go into the wonderfulness of my dreams

Hold me not in a wheelchair bound in diapers and sweat and turn me over at noon or at half past twelve

Now let me go so that my arms shall take me to flight

See me smiling as I zip past Jupiter and Mars

And do not bury me under soil in a locked casket

No do not but let my ashes fly away from a mountain top

Where peace from wild animals is within my heart and the breezes blow dramatically upon your face

That is where I want to be

Not in a wheelchair or a nursing home waiting to die

Let me go within the love of god where heaven flows

Kiss my cheek

Smile

Perhaps one day you’ll know then also go

to the place of freedom upon this earth

Where death meets life again and again

Until the next encounter I might see you soon

BoJenn

Query Your Favorite Agent, #Jenny Bent

Writing a query for me has been a while ago and today I will begin perhaps my last letter to an editor before I self publish.

Here is my genre problem and this hurdle has hidden a great story for a long time. No, I won’t change it. Literary agents and friends have said, “its too religious, its too Christian, it’s not Christian enough,” etc.

So I am going to begin by saying my favorite literary agent, Jenny Bent, is now opened to queries. This will be my third letter to her. She’s the one that I know will connect with my novel. So how do I get her attention? I’m on Twitter with her and on Twitter she made this announcement. I don’t shadow her on there or stalk her, but I try my darndest to write short comments when she posts. Sometimes I don’t write a comment as maybe I don’t have any ideas or thoughts about her topic at that time.

Well, here goes… my list that must be 1 page, have a greeting, a short novel description or synopsis, a short bio about self and the usual salutation that includes all of the places she can connect with me or you.

Let me begin with the descriptions in short words and rule out or keep the ideas, maybe revamp the phrase to a shorter more intelligent few words.

Okay… here my list goes.

Hi

Hello 🙋🏼‍♀️

Oh we meet again! Phony

It’s a pleasure to be able to submit my novel to you for my third time. (More me, too wordy)

You’re the one! I know it, but you don’t…yet. 🤔

My novel is:

409 pages described in 1 paragraph (ugh)

Wording looks religious… it’s not (nope)

Psychological (yes)

The child – Adored, gifted, intelligent, beautiful and despised

Spiritual (yes) –

Misconceptions (yes) – a beautiful chaotic malfunctioning town “Glory Town”

(All positive below)

Judgements – all people judge

The Church folk – the worst in judgement in the town. Hateful

Accusations and bullying – like in high school, the town runs its everyday affairs this way.

Strong women- Cat Dubois makes it 45 years late… but becomes and realizes she’s always been

A strong man- town mechanic, uneducated is the depiction of a real man

Ghostly child- a child who is a reflection of her childhood that she has no memories of, but he comes into Cats awareness with the help of Eleanor, Tadhg and His Glove (the little black dog)

Cosmic supernatural personalities- Eleanor, Tadhg, His Glove, Gabby and her husband and two children.

Angels/spiritual beings

Homosexuality and departures- Daniel the preachers son

Tears, joy laughter- the reader recognizes the events in this novel are similar to happenings that have traumatically occurred in their lives.

Isolation- removing self from the harm of others

Alcohol- isolation leads to negativity

Demons- the voices and consciousness of the person who is isolated, is ridiculed, is mentally suffering and is open to their company due to separation, isolation and mental issues

Sexuality- loneliness and despair opens the doors of the imagination. The imagination brings to life acquaintances that are exotic to the mind and allure the contents of the unconscious thoughts into a state of sexual encounters. A lonely mind will create the acceptable personas to accommodate the lonely flesh and satisfy the anguish of physical and mental isolation.

Suicide- the only way out. Everything has failed.

Voices- those voices not connected to schizophrenia but are the conscious of a mentally functioning human

Paranoia- one becomes after traumatic experiences have been inflicted

Mountains and valleys- allegorical

Beauty and deception- description

1950 to 1998- the time of the setting

Love, hate, jealousy and mercy from the universe- the reader should experience

The reader breaks into joy, sadness and great overwhelming accomplishments as they made it! The reader became, Cat Dubois, and is set free from negativity and happenstances. She is the winner in life as she learned how to fight battles, war and submit to victories. Time is magical and truthfully doesn’t exist.

Thank you 🐝 for reading and adding to thoughts on query letters on our planet.

Bonnie “BoJenn”

Eleanor arrives

De-Culting

When do we become totally enlightened with the understanding of what the supreme being is?

Never.

Angers gripped me lately as again I was sent an email with a conversation on it about me from two people. The gossip judged me unfairly and was also humorous at the same time. It gave me more power than I have or am aware of. I suppose that I will investigate my supernatural gifts more closely.

So let me explain if you have time. A brief history of myself goes like this. I was not raised in a Christian home until much later when I started attending an episcopal church. My mother and father joined me. I was 9 ish.

In my early twenties I became a Christian and by late twenties I was a born again, tongue talking, legalistic, finger pointing, gossiping and used overly sweet expressions like the ones I hear now. This was 1977. I could send a person to hell because I knew GOD so well. Hell we, at the churches, even cast other Christians out of the Church for not thinking like us, and this was in Miami, Fl.

In the year 1998, my mother and sister started de-culting me. I was soooo brainwashed. The de-culting has taken twenty years and my karma accompanied me during the years.

It played out that all the people I condemned for being a sinner or declared their going to hell for not believing was vehemently returned. Now, I hear the accusations of the church and their yells seem like screams, and all the while, I must remember the truth about how I acted.

No, I wasn’t religious. I believed and still do, but in another way. I am not higher, or better than others. I am simply on my own path and god is with me as it is with you.

Thank you for allowing me to share this with you.

Beliefs, Verbiage We Use, Freedom, Open Your Door

Perspectives about how life works and occurs for humans and animals and living cells are different for all humans. Every person has a different concept of their belief system unless that dogma as been hammered into a soul over time, and presently governs that person. For example phrases in conversation like “Praise the Lord!” Or “Bless you,” and “I’ll pray for you,” are judged by the circle of the congregation of “Believers.” Also, the New Age Yoga word, “Namaste,” follows another type of believer who feels their need to express their beliefs and so that word, too, becomes a word meant for dogmatic control and protection from an offensive adversity.

The point I am making is this: We become so easily swayed/manipulated because we desire and want rulership and/or governorship by a “King,” or a dogmatic belief that says we are accepted, loved and fit into the large scope of the kingdom of people.

Is it possible to think outside these rules that govern the above and ask questions? Is it possible that we are driven to the place of DOGMA for a reason?

Is it possible, now ask yourself “possible” that we are controlled by ideas, rules, thoughts, sayings, words, phrases, magnetic energies of one, that govern us in such away. It is from somewhere else our designated and herded lives and circumstances assigns to our lives rewards with wealth or poverty. We accept this as truth and do not cross over the lines drawn in the invisible sands in less we are atheist and believe that only we ourselves control the universe or our surroundings.

We are afraid to ask this force or question the intentions of familiarity to a religion or political group or any ideology because of the fear of going to hell or dying a horrific death or being cast out of a society.

I write this above because my story of events are based on the above dogmatic beliefs, fears and control. I want you to know that I serve a loving God who is supportive of me personally and is happy when I go beyond the lines drawn in invisible vague old rotten shells and sands.

My next story will be about my childhood experiences with my father, a mechanical engineer, who designed missiles, rockets, ammunition, and had encounters of the third and fourth kind in the late 1950’s, 60, and 70’s. From his experiences came mine. Perhaps this is the reason I am able to photograph odd flying images. Or UFOs 🛸

Courageous Captain

My destiny sits before me

And I am a fearful captain

The skies call loudly “this way!”

I hide in the room provided

The ships keep coming back

They are insisting on government

“Here. This is yours, captain.

Take charge before it’s too late.”

Courage is needed

I call upon the name, Courageous

“Come, now! I am ready! To take

My flight.”

BoJenn 7.8.2018

From My Backyard to You… East Tx

Time: 8 pm or a little later… not much.. I can look at the time on my camera, but right now, I am just chilling.

From my backyard in the northwest and southwest sky came an interesting display of clouds and here they are. July 7, 2018

Faint pink cloud caught my attention so I got my cell phone camera So, I took several pictures southwest sky at the same time as the pink ufo cloud. I wondered if it was traveling to the huge clouds in the southwest. Was that the mother ship or do I have an overly inquisitive mind. This very brilliant star post the exit of the pink ufo cloud

What remained in the sky post the pink ufo cloud that was in the northwest

The sky is amazing isn’t it?

From my backyard to you.

I hope you have enjoyed as much as I have.

Godspeed

🛸

My destiny sits before me

And I am a fearful captain

The skies call loudly “this way!”

I hide in the room provided

The ships keep coming back

They are insisting on government

“Here. This is yours, captain.

Take charge before it’s too late.”

Courage is needed

I call upon the name, Courageous

“Come, now! I am ready! To take

My flight.”

BoJenn July 8, 2018

The Advisory

I walked into the field of games

The sky was clear accept for

the horizon

No one saw the darkness

No sword ⚔️ could win

Simple might of speech

Pressing verbiage was on target

Consistent positive words

Shifting the attitude into seat

Managing the masses of cells

With mind manipulation

Thanksgiving and quiet utter

Ask the warrior, how are you?

The engaged won’t reply

Look in the eyes of the attacker’s

Peace and reverence is for now

Watch the pool of ranting Dna

It raises a strong fist to finish

And yet it battles in confusion

It doesn’t have a plan

It shakes and rattles its world

One cell at a time it divides

It seems that it is winning… pause

Regaining the strength of the mind

Slowly getting into the proper position

Good strong posturing for the war

Take hold of what your silence taught you

Be ready to act once again

Now speak of words of healing

Keep uttering until you know clearly

Know that you are stronger than the confusion

And it’s grip begins to let go

Written by me 2017. Poetry and it’s not bad at all!

Whenever the whispering voice was akin

Time seemed to stop and all worries disappeared

It was if another world was at my feet and I was invited

The doors were open to adventure freely; there I awakened

Thunderstorms moved from where I’d come

Shaking the distant past, it crumbled there behind me

No cares or memories of where I’d been pilgriming

Nothing mattered accepting the mountains without valleys

The shattered mirror of fainted familiar faces

Found amongst the shambles of glass and pieces

Shoutouts called a name that I felt an attachment

Yet, set mine eyes upon a rainbow of brilliant colors

Louder called the tiny slivers of mirrored images

“Come back to us, you must not leave, please.”

Turning to address the pleas, I did earnestly thank them

Turning towards the lights rays, blinded momentarily

“But, I must go on my way, there is a rainbow of golden myrrh,

And angelic songs vibrating from the fountains, see friends.”

And a tug of war occurred whilst they yearned their prayers

The glass faces upon the ground had aromas of frankincense

The junipers lining the path set before the ascent permeated

The essence of the here and now waged a brittle battle

A tall man who radiated the warmest smile hugged me

Giving me a choice, that I’d never seen, displayed majesty

I looked at the broken mirrored glass

Saw faces of people from my present past

Heard their love and songs from a place I once belonged

Inviting me to return home, and then – clearly I did see that

The children’s eyes were wet with tears of loosing their father so dear

Compassion dwelling in my very soul arose to their immediate attentions

“Dear ones do not shed another tear, your father is nearby to hold you.

You see, I must transcend the sacred bridge separating man from all eternity

And I shan’t do it alone without your songs and arms of tender mercies

So sing me home then I shall find the way, lined by angelic children that love me

And prayed

2017 BoJenn

My Grandmother who taught English and attended Sophie Newcomb

Whenever the whispering voice was akin

Time seemed to stop and all worries disappeared

It was if another world was at my feet and I was invited

The doors were open to adventure freely; there I awakened

Thunderstorms moved from where I’d come

Shaking the distant past, it crumbled there behind me

No cares or memories of where I’d been pilgriming

Nothing mattered accepting the mountains without valleys

The shattered mirror of fainted familiar faces

Found amongst the shambles of glass and pieces

Shoutouts called a name that I felt an attachment

Yet, set mine eyes upon a rainbow of brilliant colors

Louder called the tiny slivers of mirrored images

“Come back to us, you must not leave, please.”

Turning to address the pleas, I did earnestly thank them

Turning towards the lights rays, blinded momentarily

“But, I must go on my way, there is a rainbow of golden myrrh,

And angelic songs vibrating from the fountains, see friends.”

And a tug of war occurred whilst they yearned their prayers

The glass faces upon the ground had aromas of frankincense

The junipers lining the path set before the ascent permeated

The essence of the here and now waged a brittle battle

A tall man who radiated the warmest smile hugged me

Giving me a choice, that I’d never seen, displayed majesty

I looked at the broken mirrored glass

Saw faces of people from my present past

Heard their love and songs from a place I once belonged

Inviting me to return home, and then – clearly I did see that

The children’s eyes were wet with tears of loosing their father so dear

Compassion dwelling in my very soul arose to their immediate attentions

“Dear ones do not shed another tear, your father is nearby to hold you.

You see, I must transcend the sacred bridge separating man from all eternity

And I shan’t do it alone without your songs and arms of tender mercies

So sing me home then I shall find the way, lined by angelic children that love me

And prayed

2017 BoJenn