After Death; When Lives Change

Please understand that poetry writing is difficult for me since my incident last month. Anoxia has robbed my memory though every day I am getting better. Writing poetry makes me think. I don’t want to write any, but it’s a great exercise for my memory.

 

 

 

When Lives Change

 

 

Scrambling five mornings a week

For toasts, showers, clothing, lipstick, and my purse

Starting a car without the keys

Where did I put them, dear god, help! Please

Evening arrives on time, each eve

Cooking, forget cleaning, I’m up to my knees

Can’t someone assist, can’t they see me, geez!

Lord I need help with living, dear god, please

Years pass, and I’ve held things in disarray, it seems

Time has flown by and there’s nothing I have achieved, for me.

Compliments come in for my nothings, I’ve truly deemed.

Rolling my eyes about living and it’s all a confusing dream.

So February comes and it’s cold outside.

Loosing breath one night fighting hands that slide.

As if someone is choking me, slipping out of this place

Somewhere else I awakened with no time, like a space

No memory of children, pets or my homely mess.

In a place of intriguing beauty and experience.

At Pleiades, then Orion’s Belt, up and away from there.

Suddenly ~ while transporting~ I almost convulsed

The magnificence is overwhelming, as his smiling joy, couldn’t wait To show me the revelations of heaven

The gifts made just for me

And I thank him for all that he is blessing me.

With my questions answered about the universes and living after death

And in reverence I thank him for all glorious things, I have seen

I waved back and off I went

To the voices calling me home that afternoon.

I knew we’d meet again one time in my future

But now I know that my earthly frustrations are part of my heaven

And arriving home I smiled at my homely disappointments

My sadness now joy

Looking at the mess

Breathing in and out without being strangled

And yes, I am forever grateful to Him who smiles

And gave me my life with new and brighter eyes

BoJenn

March 10 @2019

 

Someone sent a message to me asking a question. My response is this;

 

Dear ______,

 

Death is individual created for all of us as heaven is, as well.

 

It is my opinion and not based on fact, the harder the death, the more someone loved their life and didn’t want to leave Earth.

So, this is why I say, death is created for each individual to have them leave their bodies.

 

In my case, death was hard. It was though, I was being strangled and death was frightening until I collapsed into nothing. There were no memories of that time. Maybe 20-30 minutes.

When I awakened 2 days later in icu, I was in and out of a coma. It was when the oxygen and time returned that I began to remember or see heaven then.

 

Heaven is created for each individual as I said. That’s why some people have deeply religious experiences and others have their hearts or beliefs experiences.

 

My love in life has been creation of The Earth, the galaxies, aliens and supernatural beings, relics, ancient cultures, mankind’s origins and mathematical physics, patterns and anything oddly different and interesting.

 

In the past (late 1990’s) I had been a “born again Christian” and got rid of all the things that I loved, mentioned above. After the late 90’s after leaving the church, I found and followed fearfully my own beliefs.

 

I found out during my recent death experience that God (small word for the creator) loved me just as I am.

 

In heaven he/she showed me everything that I love. I found out that I am okay where I am at with the creator.

 

So I hope that I answered your questions.

 

Thank you for sharing your thoughts. I so much appreciated reading 📖 the words written.

 

Thank you, I hope that I have helped.

My Last Post on WordPress was the day I died. February 8, 2019

Yes, I died. I flatlined. I had no pulse and no breath.

My son called EMS and my daughter got to my house before EMS.

That being said, I went without oxygen for a while and when you read my post here on WordPress, it might be confusing as my brain was/is anoxic.

So I will post some of my experiences in heaven.

First I was taken to The Cleansing Pool

There was a tall lean Asian male there with a large hat on. He was stirring brains inside the pool surrounded by many large volcanoes 🌋

I asked, “am I in hell?”

Quietly he said, “no. You are at The Cleansing Pool. Here you cleanse your mind from negative thoughts.”

I looked at all the thousands of brains in the pool.

Mind to mind he said, “these are the bad thoughts in others. Yours are here now too.”

There was no memory of loosing my bad thoughts. There was no pain.

He said, “you cannot ascend until you are clean.”

I think that I went often there to the pool within my journey to heaven.

Suddenly I am brought to look at The Earth. The dirt was shown at a magnified distance. It got closer and closer. In the dirt I saw shiny brilliant objects. I saw atoms, protons, neutrons and shiny objects. Gold, silver and another universe held in quantum physics and very much alive.

We moved on. I was with someone but I don’t know who. I didn’t ask but was comfortable.

We went to the surface of Earth and saw all the relics, monuments, artifacts of Egypt, Per, Mexico and Sumerian. I was amazed.

From Pinterest. I chose this as part of the Earth’s Fibonacci design. It’s very deep, very interesting and a bit scary.

I then asked, “who are humans gods? Who made us?”

I think we went to the Cleansing Pool.

Then I saw several non human beings. I understood. These were the gods.

Then, I was instantly at The Pleiades, at Orion’s Belt and there I said, “oh please, keep me within The Milky Way.”

And nope! Off we went to the outer perimeter of the universe or universes.

There is where I saw The Elohim (Hebrew for gods. Plural) creating the universe.

My symbol for The Elohim.

On the parameter of the universes there is a bundle like a baby bundle that holds us tightly together. It is charged with magnetic energies and it is made of The Fibonacci Code or designs.

These designs are alive and growing rapidly. They wanted me to watch and they wanted me to see what they were making.

I got these images from Pinterest and altered the colors some. Heaven has different colors and I cannot remember to show you what they are. I wish that I could remember. Mesmerizing indeed. I had to look away from the designs many times as it is all consummating and a bit scary as we’ve never seen anything like this on Earth.

Here are some of the images from Pinterest.

I wish that I could tell the artists who drew these how I think they are close to what I saw, though the colors are different.

Okay one last very memorable experience I had while in the heavens.

I saw binary codes. I don’t read the codes so I wondered why they showed me.

But what I think they might mean is this. The codes have earths dates, and names of people. The gods, angels, supernatural beings or whatever they are can travel here to us at any date and time.

The codes are used for time travel. Then recorded code information is folded onto each other just like when scientists say the universes bend together and traveling in the universes becomes a shorter distance. This is the same physical principle for binary codes and time traveling.

Okay… thank you for baring with my writing if you read this.

I appreciate your reading this. Questions are appreciated and I will get back to you as soon as I can.

Many thanks 🙏🏼

BoJenn March 10, 2019

Boy what a ride

Never Argue Your Point, Simply BE Your Point

 

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I was almost drawn into an argument

And it was pointless

Narrow mindedness and tunnel vision

Steal from others the light

That is, if it is allowed that chance

 

The best warfare

Walk away and leave them yelling 

No one can win where ears are hard as stones

No one wins when brains are in-prisoned 

 

Leave and get far away

Trust the Spirit of Truth is always working

Even on yourself

 

There are some battles that belong to timing

Some of those battles belong to the right voice

Lessons learned take lifetimes

 

And we are not God

So ~

Walk away

 

Passages: Time is a Thief 🌹

William Wordsworth, 1770 – 1850 (an excerpt)

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.”

Reflections on Family

 

My Family/families are my Valentines. ❤️

 

 

Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood

William Wordsworth1770 – 1850 (an excerpt)

 

“What though the radiance which was once so bright Be now for ever taken from my sight, Though nothing can bring back the hour Of splendor in the grass, of glory in the flower; We will grieve not, rather find Strength in what remains behind.”

 

 

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Time is a Thief

 
 
 

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Fleeting ~ Time

Left are memories of the children voices
 Left are the visions of sand castles

Time is a thief ~ so subtly it steals
 The moments thought unimportant and harried

If only for a moment ~ my mother and father
 We could gather at the playground together

Instead of doing my own thing
 Would look only at you and carefully listen

Because truly ~ Time is a thief

BJ

 

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Hidden from sight the old trees still protect
 As if intruders enter out of disrespect 
 Inside the castle tucked deeply far away
 Is a beating heart who yearns for their play
 When they visit again and all will be restored
 To the time and place where the children roared
 The dogs barked when visitors approached
 And all was well, once upon a day
BJ

 

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The laughter of voices of children are still heard
 Looking at the image seeing what once was
 And nothing will bring back the innocent days
 Moving time forward, can never return



And the cycle of voices of children presently heard
  Are the ones who'll whisper in future playgrounds
  And the cycle goes on and on and on perpetually turning

Making the maddening cycle stop
  Takes fortitude, strength, courage and truth
  That the voices of children stay presently in your heart

BJ

 

 

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 Her Mysteries

 
 

Ascending an abandoned staircase stood once gloried and adored

 Still remains inside a crumbling castle’s walls ~ yet still lovely
She held secrets no one had explored, she waited to share
The mysteries, now ghosts, of people who once were
Back, caught in time, and the twirling vacuum of memories

Went ~ Swept away. But the antique staircase could bring them back ~

If only a wandering visitor came to stay.

 
 
 
BJ
 
 
 
 
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“Please, whisper. As you enter a sacred place, be reverent. It is the granite that shields her heart, and the only way to enter is in quiet solitude.”







Thank you for reading

 

 

 

K♣️

©2016 Bonnie Jennings. All Rights Reserved

 

 

 

Quarks and Atoms

 

Similar to a galaxy spinning in time
Measures and degrees relations to physics
Worlds and molecules and atoms be
Thicker, heavier, denser or sparse
Spinning in their community on a coarse
United by their gravity and specific force
Ignoring mankind as it flows in unison
Though truly mankind rarely notices
Tiny quarks and black space not hidden
Just so small, but significantly living
Wildly busy and holding prayers
The littlest places, but no one cares
But in the tunnels black between quarks
The energy moves vibrating this heaven
The space between iron and chemical seven
Make a place that causen weights to levin
Billions and trillions of atoms maybe
Your eyes, so that you can see
A world of beauty beyond this place
A world of atoms of molecules and me

©2016 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved

Doodles by me

The Circle of Life

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The fog of dull moist clouds cloistered Earths hills

rolling slowly quietly assured with December’s presence

uncovering the steal bleakness of chills

the grey fox sought the superlative time stalking

hunting, one catch, the hare eating thorns, is captured

~

All rests except the fox, and the hawk that swoops prey

and beautiful it seems to carolers that dream

pictured on Christmas Cards sleighing coupled in hay

but the hunted sigh as the singers pass by

ignoring the innocent life in the forest by night

really wintery rest is not what it seems

~

The white witch cursed the greens for three months

laughing, she pointed t’wards the fox and the hare

the hawk she invites on her evening animal hunts

while the fox, hiding and embarrassingly shares,

“dear rabbit if only there was another way to convey

my condolences and my fondness, for you, today.”

~

The fawn born in grey thicket that night

a hunter was on track for a meal, of the carnivores type

deep in silence, bitter coldness, that eve less bright

their faces showed meanness, sickeningly alarming

hungry for killing the innocent and without any lament

the damp floors lined with twigs and leaves sent

~

Warning there are trespassers who entered our forest

and without invitation, the hawk soared forewarning

the dove in turn echoes cooing which entered space

of ears of the fox alarming, the furry rabbit crosses into the thicket

noosing the doe and the fawn warmed coddling

“stay within this eve the thicket safe from guns”

~

The hunter’s love winter’s and the innocent blood

And the white witch carries on until spring

stay here little doe while your mother brings the cud

the sleet drizzling rains seem never to bring

peace within the forest it seems

and life circles around the fox and the hare

and the buzzards that hunt the carcass from the air

~

©2015 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved

First attempt

The fog of dull moist clouds cloistered Earths hills

rolling slowly quietly assured with December’s presence 

uncovering the steal bleakness of chills

the grey fox sought the superlative time stalking

hunting, one catch, the hare eating thorns, is captured

~

All rests except the fox, and the hawk that swoops prey

and beautiful it seems to carolers that dream

pictured on Christmas Cards sleighing coupled in hay

but the hunted sigh as the singers pass by

ignoring the innocent life in the forest by night

really wintery rest is not what it seems

The white witch cursed the greens for 3 months

laughing, she pointed t’wards the fox and the hare

the hawk she invites on her evening animal hunts

while the fox, hiding and embarrassingly shares

dear rabbit if only there was another way to convey

my condolences and my fondness, for you, today

The fawn born in grey thicket that night

a hunter was on track for a meal, of the carnivores type

deep in silence, bitter coldness, that eve less bright

their faces showed meanness,  sickeningly alarming

hungry for killing the innocent and without any lament

the damp floors lined with twigs and leaves sent

warning there are trespassers entered our forest

and without invitation, the hawk soared forewarning

the dove in turn echoes cooing which entered space

of ears the fox alarming, the furry rabbit crosses into the thicket

noosing the doe and the fawn warmed coddling

stay within this eve the thicket safe from guns

the hunter’s love winter’s and the innocent blood

And the white witch carries on until spring

stay here little doe while your mother brings the cud

the sleet drizzling rains seem never to bring

peace within the forest it seems

and life circles around the fox and the hare

and the buzzards that hunt the carcass from the air

 

~

 

©2015 Bonnie Jennings All Rights Reserved

How Many More Breaths

My grandmother
My grandmother

Time

tick-tock; tic- tock; tick, tick, tick.

Time.

WHY?

Nursing homes, memory units, family dispersed.

They ran when my hair turned silver and I smelled of urine.

Oh, this is The United States ~ who else in the world would leave?

What, a silly question,  after all, it was us the free-love generation who started this nonsense.

Really, in truth, we were the “me” generation. Misnamed. The irony makes me laugh.

We called our kids this. They were the product of the all consuming need to be free.

Mom and Dad split, time, after time, after time, all for the image of freedom.

“They’ll get over it.”

Yes, they have and assuredly ~

One plus one equals two. And, two times two equals four.

Physical laws don’t change without the atom bomb.

And, now is waiting.

Waiting, on my clock.

Quietly it tick-tocks; tick-tocks, tick, tick, ticks …

God, how many more breaths must I take?