N.D.E. By Brian37 (AKA Brian James Rational Poet on FB/META and Brianrrs37 on Twitter)

Tis the switch
On the set
On to off
Last tiny white dot

The eight millimeter
Has jumped the reel
The filament
In the bulb

Has popped
Into the bright white
Only to shrink
And disappear

The reel
Brings us family
Memories
Of rotations past

From the toys
We played with
To the spouses
We marry

Our sisters and brothers
Our mothers
Our grandparents
Our fathers

Our shortfalls
Our successes
All on this reel
An illusion

Sometimes
Pulled back
We are and wake up
Sometimes not

In every case
Such enticing illusions
Are just that
Illusions

It is the last
Desperate action
Of the brain
To find comfort

A mere spasm
A product of evolution
In which we replace
With placebo superstition.
(end)

This is another old poem of mine. It is a criticism of claims of “Near Death Experiences”. No you did not die, thus “near”, there is no beyond and coming back. Once your brain dies, you die.

If you come out of your undetectable state, it does not mean you were permanently dead, it merely means vitals could not be found. If you come out of that it means you were still in that survivable window. The lack of detection could be a misdiagnoses by the doctor or nurse.

The “white light” everyone talks about or seeing their lives flashing before their eyes, isn’t real people you are seeing almost being in heaven. It is your memory files in your neurons all being dumped at once, just like if you went into an office and pulled out all the file drawers and dumped them out.

There is no surviving permanent death. Funny how nobody who has ever been decapitated has come back to report their “N.D.E.”