(The Residue) Part of the Cadaverous Journey
Funny, as I stared at him he saw me, perhaps as clear as I saw him, I was looking at everything and everybody, he in particular: to me he didn’t even have a name, simple ‘The New Arrival,’ he even seemed to read my lips when I said to myself “New Arrival,” and I must had said it a few times, because he was seemingly, mimicking me. Now that I think of it, I don’t even know if he is an old soul, or new soul, meaning, I really do not know what time period I am in.
We don’t really know what is in the other person’s heart or mind, so I learned at that moment. Oh I knew it before, but knowing it, and digesting it into the bowels, is anther thing.
Then all of a sudden something mysterious happened, residue from the third part of his soul disappeared, just like that, it was, or formed a ghostly mass, like thin smoke, white to gray, light gray, almost having a whirlpool of wind around it (a vortex). One of the angels whispered softly to me, I didn’t even look to see who it was I was in a kind of trepidation, wonder almost, if not awe—he whispered I suppose, so that the other souls did not become distruptive, or disturbed, or perhaps even self absorbed (I wasn’t sure why exactly)—:
“Sometimes, things back on earth are unfinished, unsettled, and the soul, all three parts are sometimes restless, one onto the other, but in particular one, in this case the third part of his soul, and thus, the other two parts allowed it to shed some of its residue, to settle it, sometimes it takes a long time, and that residue gets lost in a pile of self pity on its voyage back home, hiding in dark places; sometimes, demonic forces find that ghostly unstable deposit, and incorporates it into its shell giving it more substance for a while, but it is only the third part that the demonic forcers can dominate in this case, as in The False Arbitrator, and let’s hope this is not the case, lest the other two remain restless until the judgment.
“Sometimes the soul wants to pump out its poison, tries to, but who is listening? No one in most cases, not here anyhow, and the soul thinks it can, it knows its destiny, or almost; what little fate these souls have reside in mercy given to them by those they’ve harmed, and God hearing that request on their behalf, and granting a lesser doom.”
Leaky Soul
Within the leaky Soul—
Destiny reeks like an eroded hose,
Pumping out its poison…!
But it’s way, too late—life
Has pitted its outcome, for doom…
There is no more room, for life!
#2339 (2-27-2008) #10
Funny, as I stared at him he saw me, perhaps as clear as I saw him, I was looking at everything and everybody, he in particular: to me he didn’t even have a name, simple ‘The New Arrival,’ he even seemed to read my lips when I said to myself “New Arrival,” and I must had said it a few times, because he was seemingly, mimicking me. Now that I think of it, I don’t even know if he is an old soul, or new soul, meaning, I really do not know what time period I am in.
We don’t really know what is in the other person’s heart or mind, so I learned at that moment. Oh I knew it before, but knowing it, and digesting it into the bowels, is anther thing.
Then all of a sudden something mysterious happened, residue from the third part of his soul disappeared, just like that, it was, or formed a ghostly mass, like thin smoke, white to gray, light gray, almost having a whirlpool of wind around it (a vortex). One of the angels whispered softly to me, I didn’t even look to see who it was I was in a kind of trepidation, wonder almost, if not awe—he whispered I suppose, so that the other souls did not become distruptive, or disturbed, or perhaps even self absorbed (I wasn’t sure why exactly)—:
“Sometimes, things back on earth are unfinished, unsettled, and the soul, all three parts are sometimes restless, one onto the other, but in particular one, in this case the third part of his soul, and thus, the other two parts allowed it to shed some of its residue, to settle it, sometimes it takes a long time, and that residue gets lost in a pile of self pity on its voyage back home, hiding in dark places; sometimes, demonic forces find that ghostly unstable deposit, and incorporates it into its shell giving it more substance for a while, but it is only the third part that the demonic forcers can dominate in this case, as in The False Arbitrator, and let’s hope this is not the case, lest the other two remain restless until the judgment.
“Sometimes the soul wants to pump out its poison, tries to, but who is listening? No one in most cases, not here anyhow, and the soul thinks it can, it knows its destiny, or almost; what little fate these souls have reside in mercy given to them by those they’ve harmed, and God hearing that request on their behalf, and granting a lesser doom.”
Leaky Soul
Within the leaky Soul—
Destiny reeks like an eroded hose,
Pumping out its poison…!
But it’s way, too late—life
Has pitted its outcome, for doom…
There is no more room, for life!
#2339 (2-27-2008) #10
Labels: Dennis L. Siluk, Poeta Laureado
posted by Dennis and Rosa Siluk at 1:35 PM
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