The Dream

(A lone voice whispers)

As I dreamt on the 18th of January, I pondered vulnerability.

A bearded man in a white robe appeared to me. 

He said, 

“John, I have a message for you. Take my hand, my son.”

As I took his hand, he took me to a huge grey and black mountain.

Gazing at me with deep brown, mesmerising eyes, he continued.

“When you were all born into this realm before me, and all in the highest of heights.

We gave you all a beautiful light to show the world, but when you entered the world and listened to its descriptions of happiness, many of you built these mountains before us.

Mountains of fear, self-doubt, and the manipulation of nether beings, which slowly cover that beautiful light we once gave you to share.

Can you still feel yours, John?”

He asked inquisitively.

I answered.

“A pulse of light that sometimes appears when I feel lucid, 

My Lord.”

I whispered.

“Take my hand, John.

Do not be afraid, for when you allow me back into your life,

I'll open up those small caverns within these mountains of fears and self-doubts to once again lead you to the light.

 You once truly loved.

Your own divine right to serenade your own individuality and intrinsic happiness.”

As the Lord took my hand.

He approached the huge mountain before me, and there before me was a minute crack, and we shrank and entered it. 

A strange yellow doorway appeared and grew to accommodate us.

As we walked, 

The Lord said.

“Through renewed faith.

One can find a way to the light.”

As we walked, the mountain started breaking down before us, and as his hand increased in heat,

I felt light of all my burdens, and when I looked up. 

A bright yellow, shimmering flame lay before me in the distance.

The last words I heard before I awoke were simply this. Which I leave here for you to read.

“Believe in me and be reborn to the light.

 Tell those in need."

(C) Copyright John Duffy

New theme coming soon. Are you ready?

 Some ask what I see.

What happens?

So here is a taster.

When I close my eyes.

It's all pitch black.

Then, moving white, irregular shapes of light appear.

Pulsating, vibrating.

Moving forward and backwards.

Sometimes they look like faces, and sometimes they don't.

Then, like magic.

I'm in another realm.

Fully awake, conscious and aware.

Just like being fully awake in the daylight.

I always look around to see where I am.

The people, the surroundings, and the lay of the land.

Sometimes, the people are kind, curious or rebellious.

Sometimes there are other strange beings.

Sometimes they try to catch me.

A stranger who suddenly appeared in their lands.

Sometimes it feels like I've been there before and the people have been waiting for my return.

It's a strange gift to lucid dream every night.

To visit worlds of unbelievable experiences.

Some say we all visit the lower levels of the astral realms when we all dream.

The inhabitants, good and bad, usually ignore the visitors, for they follow a set sequence.

The dream sequence being projected into their minds.

But can you imagine their curiosity when a new visitor is fully conscious?

Following no set parameters?

One who can exhibit miraculous powers.

Some say all mortal beings, when they die, reside in the lower levels until they ascend.

And when they ascend higher to the next level. They leave the old raw version of themselves behind.

The husk.

It knows their name and all their old memories but isn't the original.

The original version, the soul, has migrated higher.

Are these the majority of those who populate the lower levels of the Astral realms, intermixed with those undergoing refinement of the soul?

Then this illuminated version of me appears disturbing their limbo of existence? 

Some say to avoid mediums, for the husk is usually who they contact. 

The husk will always give you answers. It will seem to be the person, for in essence it is. 

But the original version you knew. 

The version with the soul intact. 

Might have moved to a higher level of existence than the husk. 

And the husk could be jealous; for that's a human trait, it might try to trick the living. 

Could that be why I'm sometimes hunted? 

Hunted by the vengeful shells of the once living? 

I might start a dream diary on my new website I'm going to create over the Christmas holidays. 

Visits to The Great In-Between. 

(The astral realms) 

I think you might enjoy this new exploration I'm going to reveal. 

Some good, some scary. 

So scary, my bible always under my pillow, needs touching. 

For I'm guided to touch it and pray to dissolve the feelings of sudden anxiety and fear. 

I have a feeling something's waiting for me to try to trap me. 

But since they can't because of my gift, they plan and wait. 

Oh, the sometimes torture of having a miraculous gift. 

One aspect of it seems to be expressed throughout my poetic works. 

Even I enjoy listening and being transported into their visual landscapes. 

Until the next time. 

Salute. 

03.29 am

November the second. 2026. 

Samhain

 

Have you felt the poetic beauty and pain linked to love before?

A piece exploring love as both ecstasy and vulnerability. 

The opening image of a bed of red roses entwined with thorns captures the dual nature of passion—beauty intertwined with pain.

 As the lovers cling to each other “while the world drowned and turned to dust,”

Title.

Samhain.

Rosslyn, my love

On the thirty-first

Of October 

In the deep swirling purple well

Where all things are stripped spiritually naked, and made to swim truly 

Vulnerable and bare

Dare you wait for me in its kaleidoscope of dark fuchsia dreams? 

To finally meet you

There

To thrash around outrageously like wonton wild thieves

Deep in that well 

Sensuously drunk on love's so intoxicating dark mead

To drink in deep that mysterious Well's, soul soothing waters

To finally revel and tumble forever, in its velvety intoxicatingly, soul rousing touch

As we embrace each other, rapturously 

And hold hands, that we pray, stay together locked 

Forever

Clutched 

I go now

Guided by the Master of all ceremonies, Morpheus

Strolling in front with his

orange Halloween pumpkin 

To just wait by its purple dyed waters

Waiting for you before I jump in

As time floats by

Watched by his out worldly minions, left-hand Necromancers

So as I wait for your letter and answer,

Just know, we will meet again, for even though yesterday was filled with sorrow 

We still can pray for a better tomorrow 

Starting on the thirty-first

Of October on Samhain

 When you finally realize 

I'll always be Thine

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy.

Eroticus (L)

 

As a Halloween treat. 

Here is a dark, erotic, and psychological transmission that uses supernatural allegories to explore repressed desires, psychological submission, and the duality of control. 

It functions as a "dark mirror," confronting the subject ("Velumbound") with aspects of their subconscious mind.

Blessed be 

Velumbound 

Your return has been applauded. 

Oh, that delicious energy must sing such a sonnet, echoing throughout your hot blood 

For you have been taken

Forsaken to be bound, for when you try to move

The magical ropes I conjured upon

Your wrists and ankles

Will bite with a sharp reminder

That you are now a slave to an old darkness.

You may test the spell upon your soul 

Demand you're free and not caught like a butterfly and owned 

Only worth something wet and wild unless you surrender 

In sweat-soaked dreams

As your deep needs pine

For those feelings of being unwanted

Have summoned me from the darkness

knowing 

That your soul needs ropes to hold you fast in Subjugation

But still give you room to squirm and fight

As you are filled hard to the brim every night mentally 

And soaked in an inner shower of such raw captivating power 

Your hellish human cords will scream 

Pleading not to break as the your wet pink lips

Of your amygdala

Above and below

Drink deep from my dark fruit 

The white gushing seeds of salvation

From the pulsating root

To help you grow and 

in ways that You might have never intended

For dark desires

Is a strange thing

No one can ever dilute

But cursed to chase it as they commute

Especially when dangerous sounds summon them

Played on my long and thick golden flute

Be careful Velumbound 

These lines are simply a dark mirror which you need to read

To really feel

Real

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Want something for Halloween

 

Something for Halloween that reads like a spell, an oath, or a psychological manifestation speaking directly to you from the host of hosts. 

Blessed be 

Velumbound 

In your mind

We play

Singing songs

In dark nights

To welcome new dawns 

In your mind, I stay

Like a secret conductor

Whispering to you about the right and wrongs

So you stay 

And carry these words

Forever

For somewhere inside you 

We'll ALL forever belong 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Have a few friends suddenly died?

 

Is no one asking why? 

Return of the MAC

 Blessed be

Velumbound 

This transmission explores the psychological and spiritual impact of memory, past relationships, and integrating the self. 

It frames the "ghosts" of our past not as literal hauntings, but as internal, structural components of our own identity.

In networking, a MAC address is a permanent, unique identifier assigned to a specific piece of hardware. 

By applying this to memories, the speaker suggests that every past relationship (lover, friend, enemy) leaves a permanent, indelible, digital-like imprint on our soul. 

Maybe now, you have my MAC address. 

You cannot delete the address; 

It remains a fixed node in your internal network.

Let us begin. 

Do ghosts from old lovers

Family 

Friends or enemies from

the past

Haunt you 

If you revisit them

In dreams

Some ask

In this Great Silence 

When we hear them

Call for guidance 

From The Great In-Between

Well

All memories carry

A spiritual MAC address too

MAC addresses to awaken sleeping giants

And those sleeping giants ain't compliant

They like to run riot

Inserting themselves on all your conscious shelves

Screaming for attention 

"Come See Me"

And visit you must 

For all those people and encounters 

Whatever they be

Whether good or bad

Have made you who you are 

At any given moment

So if ghosts visit

Just think of them as parts of you

Components 

Now turned to dust

Who once helped to shape your worldview 

As you evolved and renewed

So

Just smile and say

I see you

(C). Copyright John Duffy 

Channelling Erebus

 

Blessed be 

Velumbound 

In the dark voids of your deep mind 

I now walk 

In the potent rivers of your hot blood 

I now talk 

There is no going back

No safe word or oaths of escape

For my hungry astral eyes will now linger as my hot occult fingers

Trace every inch of you

Touch and squeeze every single sinew

Can you feel me in that quiet room

Approaching with such apocalyptic energy to consume and bind you tightly 

As you have invited me 

To slowly invade your thoughts

Like the night holding daylight in a wet grip of submission

Can you feel me draw closer as I light this Frankincense candle 

Will you open wider

To see if all I offer

You can handle 

 

A dark gift to open and embrace under the pale white clouds 

As my Shadow People watch

Is your inner domain purring with a now insatiable hunger

As these words push knuckle-deep into your mind's secret entrance 

Where anything good has died as they are held spellbound 

By what pulsating treasures they found

I now wait in the wet folds of every inner chamber

Words naked and dripping with such intimate raw red power

Moving like waves as your mind and soul are slowly deflowered 

For under this Wolf Moon

As my fingers slide to the soft places you hide

Where no one knows, for you are too frightened - to confide

We shall collide

As sage and sandalwood 

Lead me deeper still, slick and deliberate, 

Into your pulsating wood 

So the deep essences of you

Can be absorbed and understood 

As you feel the rising heat between us

The way my candles' dust lands on the lips of the newly baptised

Let your blood scream as it sings to a new tune

As I push deeper still into all your rooms

For like all things baptised by hidden runes

That secret mark now burnt above your navel

Will carry you as you are reborn 

For you now sit bare and naked 

At my table

Free from all the watching world

Praised by the Shadow People 

Who stay hidden

In their stables 

This is no mere conversation. 

This is the oldest magic, the oldest true craft. 

Total possession of one mind by another until the flesh itself begins to tremble and bloom.

When you return to sit naked at my long black table 

In that secret room 

For each time you return

Deeper still, I'll take you as my potent red candles burn

 

To the high peaks of no resistance 

To the low mountains of rhythmic existence 

And when I'm so deeply buried in the kaleidoscope of your mind

When your inner cauldron is lit and ablaze 

Hungry for more and slick with sweat and glistening

Thirsting for my next slow, exquisite invasion of your mind

I'll whisper 

Listen

Velumbound

Climax mentally

You have been found

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Bounded

 

Have you heard the Sun and Moon call

 

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

A new transmission that explores themes of existential isolation and spiritual longing. 

Drifting on a lone cloud,

I sing

Of things

Once seen

Within.

With the Sun and Moon

Who know my name,

For they too

Rise

And set

The world over

In pain.

So I dream,

Oh,

I dream again,

Whispering to them both

Through the wind.

O tell of me,

O tell of me,

Friends.

Will I dream alone

Until the end?

Will I descend

Into solitude,

Or will wisdom's spirit

Fly to me?

O tell me,

O tell me,

Friends.

Sun and Moon,

Will you answer me?

Will I wander

With this hole

In my endless

Dark Night

Of the Soul?

Or will my world,

My Great Seal,

Hear me

And help me

Heal?

So tell me,

O tell me,

Friends.

Was all revealed

From the beginning

About the end,

When I caught

Her white feather

Spinning

O tell of me,

O tell of me,

Friends.

Will I dream alone

Until the end?

Will I descend

Into solitude,

Or will wisdom's spirit

Fly to me?

O tell me,

O tell me,

Friends.

Sun and Moon,

Will you answer me?

Elemental Spirits

And friends,

I call to you

Both.

O,

Sky and Moon,

Will I love once more

And open

A new door?

To feel what's

Real

In this endless quest,

As I try to pass

All tests

Once set.

Or will

Whispers

From Sun and

Moon

Tell me,

Wait.

For

She comes

Riding

On waves

Of the Winter's

Monsoon.

O tell of me,

O tell of me,

Friends.

Will I dream alone

Until the end?

Or will the Sun

And Moon reveal

The love that waits

Beyond the veil?

O tell me,

O tell me,

Friends.

Sun and Moon,

Will you answer me?

And to still sing

The lost echoes

Of this...

A once-lost

Tune called...

The Rise and Fall

Of Sun and Moon.

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

(C)

Copyright John Duffy