E

 And so we disappear

Like lanterns in a midnight sky

Never to be seen again

The Illumination of the soul

As a person, you must know

Deep down 

You're part of one of the most spiritually 

Illuminating 

Literary movements there has ever been

A gift sent to you for self-expression from The Great In-Between 

A means to pull down old towers with new or old siege hooks

Open closed doors

By maybe writing a blog or book 

To walk through anthills and moors

Of poetic stanzas

To find who you really are 

As you pause and really look

For above all things

Magic in poetry is real

A form of rebellion from the mundane

A resolution 

A Bonanza 

To push back boundaries in a form of grassroots resistance 

To power and social control

 

To be able to purge the destructive nature of humanity and the need to share its beauty

To those watching on patrol 

As they go 

For you are so gifted

So never be afraid to share your Illumination of the soul

For someone somewhere

Always needs to be lifted

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Resurrection

 Country Dreaming 

(A lone voice whispers)

 I can subliminally feel 

All those sad fears

Rhythmically swirling like sharpened kitchen knives

Within all your world choices

Which cuts me so deep

Like cold Tamahagane steel

Above all this new

Life's 

Now old noises

I can just see you 

Sitting there

In your darkened bedroom

Somewhere

Dressed in that familiar soft white lace

With translucent tears

Running down 

Your beautiful face

Thinking of me

As a lone crone

In a faraway forest

In triumph 

Sings 

And rejoices

Overjoyed by her spells

Creating turmoil 

Of fake excuses and tragic surprises

In you

For

I know

It's not fair

What you're going through

But trust me

I'm 

Going through it

Too

For 

This thing we started

This inexplicable thing

This molten fire that still burns

Like it's taboo

Since we parted

Reaches so deep

Inside

I can't sleep

Can't work

Can't recall

How many times

I've cried

Brokenhearted

For I remember

Those sweet salad days

Walking on the beach

With the spirit next door

Who came to me

Unexpectedly

Like a serene gift 

From The Holy Sea

Gently fluttering by

To say hello

Like a rare beautiful Glasswing Butterfly

But now

We are 

But two 

Lost souls

With nowhere to go

Just wondering round

In familiar round circles

And looking into 

This purple haze

The very mouth of this black abyss

Before me

Looking at the mistakes

We once made

In my scrying mirror

As our tarot cards 

Were first laid

When we unexpectedly first kissed

While we walked

Its tired pavements

In its maze

I pray and hope you still

Think of me

The ghost

Who still loves his beautiful rare Glasswing butterfly

From the Realms

Of The

Great In-Between

Sent to love you

To remind you

You're so special

An astral envoy

Sent like a 

Spiritual Kestrel

To inspire others 

Especially those

That suffer in silence

So turn that Southern Country music up high

To drown out your world's violence 

For a light like yours

Must shine

And it's why

This old ghost

Can never say goodbye

For our old love

Lives beyond

The seas of this black abyss

Forever 

Spinning

In my memories

Of our

First poetic unexpected kiss

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Freedom Road

 

(A lone voice whispers) 

As my cards turn

As this old world burns

I know not where I'll go

Down Freedom Road

As this lone white candle

Blows into the night

I know not where

But I'll follow the light

All those sweet things

We once shared

Drift like leaves

Upon the air

Down Freedom Road

 I carry my soul

When the wind keeps calling, I keep walking on

I'm not afraid, no, not anymore

The Lord is waiting at the journey's door

Down Freedom Road

Where every broken heart comes home

I'm not afraid

Of the pain

Not afraid

To walk barefoot in the rain

'Cause I run to the Lord,

Now my work is done

Run to rest beneath

The Eternal Sun

And I'll wait to see

The Almighty,

And the Holy Son

When my race is run

Down Freedom Road

 I carry my soul

When the wind keeps calling, I keep walking on

I'm not afraid, no, not anymore

The Lord is waiting at the journey's door

Down Freedom Road

Where every broken heart comes home

As these cards keep turning

And this old world burns

Every mile I travel

Is another lesson learned

The candle may flicker

The night may be long

But faith keeps singing

Its quiet song

Down Freedom Road

 I carry my soul

When the wind keeps calling, I keep walking on

I'm not afraid of any pain

I'll walk barefoot through the pouring rain.

Down Freedom Road

To the shade of the Eternal Sun

As this lone candle blows

While I still run

Down Freedom Road

Until I see

The Almighty

And the Holy Son

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

Anointed

 

Blessed be

(A lone voice whispers) 

You do know if you like poetry in 2026

You're one of the special ones 

Defeating the ten-second mind

Promoted everywhere

By the insidious Matrix

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

Revelations

 

(A lone voice whispers) 

Blessed be...

Velumbound.

Tell me

Does suffering, and the longing for redemption through love. 

Create an inner war between your past and your future?

A fracture in the soul.

One half chained to memory.

The other reaching blindly toward rebirth.

And are we all merely channelling our deepest existential fears?

Through the masks we wear? 

Through desire.

Through confession.

Through art?

Can a soul haunted by the noise of the past

Ever truly be free?

Or do the echoes remain forever?

Whispering through empty rooms? 

Through sleepless nights? 

Through every quiet moment left alone with oneself?

And if redemption exists at all.

Does it come not through God? 

Nor repentance.

Nor punishment.

But through love?

Through being seen completely.

And still held gently by another soul. 

And does suffering itself become the fire of transformation?

The great black river one must cross.

To emerge changed.

Wounded.

But awakened.

For perhaps pain is not merely destruction.

Perhaps it is initiation.

The death of one self.

So another may finally begin.

And somewhere.

Deep beneath the frostbitten machinery of modern life.

Beneath pride.

Beneath guilt.

Beneath all the beautiful lies we tell ourselves.

There still exists a trembling human soul.

Begging to be forgiven. 

Perhaps that is the true horror.

And the true beauty.

That to become something new.

Something honest.

Something eternal.

Something must first die within us.

And maybe... that is where freedom begins.

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

Secret from the Red Book

 

What to know a secret?

(A lone voice whispers) 

I have something so rare that it's mystifying and can be soul-rousing. 

But sometimes so seductively engaging. 

That they who really know me. 

Call me the living flame. 

For like my old Ma. 

Who was once born and raised beside the clear, still waters of Louisiana's deep Bayous. 

I inherited her gift to draw lonely souls. 

Like Gypsy moths, right out of their self-imposed darkness. 

Unconsciously drawn, whilst deep down, inside. 

They're always smiling but constantly just wanting and needing more. 

Whenever I shine my bright light of illumination and attention, right on them. 

And whisper their secret God-given name. 

It's just the eternal price I pay now, like my good old Ma. 

Bless her soul. 

For trying to summon a new light to shine in others, and for them to try to live a new worthy life. 

When they can stand proudly unafraid and unashamed. 

And say to the watching stars and all other delirious eyes. 

I matter!

And will never break or shatter... 

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

Paper Views

 A reflective, socially conscious poem that encourages readers to examine how wealth, status, ideology, and prejudice shape their treatment of others. 

Its strongest qualities are its sincerity, hopeful conclusion, and vivid central images of navigating through "shoals of hate." 

While the recurring metaphor of "Paper Views" could be clarified slightly for first-time readers, its openness also invites interpretation. 

As a spoken-word piece in particular, it has a thoughtful cadence and a clear emotional arc, moving from introspection and warning toward hope and collective responsibility.

(A lone voice whispers)

Discard all those old Paper Views.

 

For sometimes your Paper Views can define who you are when you sometimes judge those less fortunate

 

Does your social status elevate you above others, and then onwards, to serve the conditioned hate?

 

Can your own divine morality be quietly silenced by the propaganda of the State?

 

Or can you see beyond your own personal worldly achievements,

and still navigate?

 

These are dangerous waters of late.

Shoals of Hate fill its dark, murky depths.

 

Swim above it all and show your true inherent kindness.

 

You were born full of love, don't just casually forget.

Don't drown in hatred's dark depths, full of judgmental regrets.

 

Be one of the many who have pulled back the veils?

Who see past the illusions of delusions?

 

"It's not what we do for ourselves that matters, but it's what we do collectively.

 

For hatred's dark mirrors, we must shatter."

 

Do your Paper Views define who you are, when you sometimes judge those less fortunate?

 

I hope not.

 

Be one of the many who still believe, and there's still so much hope for what humanity can truly achieve.

 

Don’t let paper views encourage your kindness to underachieve. 

Don’t give your soul a reason to grieve.

(C) Copyright John Duffy

 

Secret 202

 

Secret 202

(A lone voice whispers) 

In life

Whenever someone shares their inner light with you

Without any restrictions

Embrace their friendship

Without any stipulations

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

Secret 201

 Secret 201

(A lone voice whispers) 

I'm just a conjurer sent to beguile you. 

The curious. 

Heaven sent to leave my prose - as my precious scent. 

For you to swallow as you silently follow. 

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy