An evocative transmission on the intoxicating, transcendent, yet tragic power of language and intimacy as a refuge from external chaos.
(A lone voice whispers)
Do the right words have a strange, hypnotic way of making the mind's hips
Slowly sway
Opening hearts to beat in unison
As spiritual arms embrace one another
While the waking world burns
As each word is received
To relight a new red candle
Lit but forever cursed to yearn
For more
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Blessed be.
Velumbound.
Is Language an Aphrodisiac?
Let us begin.
(A lone voice whispers)
I can always remember my first and only muse.
Whom I seduced with words and verbs.
To calm her fragile nerves.
As we made such music on spiritual paper
That the old Gods would later revisit
To taste its vapours
We serenaded curves
In every love letter
Shared
Of such tranquil unreachable things
We felt we deserved
Which sent climatic vibrations up and down our wet spines
In absorbed hot sentences and soft prose
Where innocence wandered away without a spoken word
As new kings and queens down in between the lines
Rose and pined
As our minds screamed and whined
And all it took
Was a way to find
The golden sensuous key
To the hidden doorways
Of her mind
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
I've heard them all my life but never put pen to paper.
That was the post-traumatic catalyst.
After gathering 4+ million views on Google+, and now gathering over a 100 thousand views on Blogger.
On reflection, I must be doing something right for the light.
Let's hit a million!
Blessed be.
Velumbound.
A haunting, atmospheric transmission of eternal longing, grief, and the purgatorial nature of memory
Blessed be.
Velumbound.
(A lone voice whispers)
Waiting in this dark, swirling abyss
I miss the soft touch of your hand, your voice and that unforgettable first kiss
Inside, although it hides
Is my old heart that once cried
Now silent and still
As I prowl through old streets
As I once did
Dawn no longer interrupts me
So all night all I search for you in here
For I know we are cursed to forget names and faces when we enter
But only remember
The past, for that is what always lasts
But as I hunger for the thing I love the most
You, my familiar old ghost
I can only pray through this swirling grey smoke that chokes
As I trail around like a bull wearing a harvest yoke
You'll find me
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Here's a hauntingly beautiful transmission of a recent journey.
Capturing the vivid, liminal space.
The "Great In-Between".
Where themes of mortality, memory, and the transition from life to death blend.
From Fire to Ice.
The burning, volcanic sensation through the nerves represents the pain, intensity, or raw energy of life (or perhaps the process of dying).
This quickly gives way to a creeping numbness.
"All I am now is ice".
Signalling the loss of vitality, warmth, and the earthly "touch of fire."
Where The Great In-Between feels like a cosmic waiting room or purgatory.
The undulating air, whispering darkness, and suspended motion create an atmosphere of profound isolation, yet it holds a heavy, expectant stillness.
The Silver Scrying Mirror & Spotlight:
The spotlight acts as a stage for judgment or final confession, casting a "narrow beacon of low resistance."
The silver scrying mirror represents reflection, memory, and perhaps an audience of the past or other souls (the frozen shadows), waiting to witness the truth of a soul's existence.
The Human Condition ("Notoriety"):
The soul that steps into the light represents all its humanity.
Sent down by God to experience society with all its "ensuing notoriety."
It highlights how noisy and chaotic life on Earth is compared to the stark, silent truth of the aftermath.
The Final Evaluation and the climax of the transmission are deeply introspective.
Watching another soul prepare to speak forces the narrator to confront their own inevitable end.
The transmission leaves one hanging on a universal, profound question:
What will your final thoughts be when you stand before the void after being struck by "Death's golden cosh"?
Shall we begin?
Blessed be.
Velumbound.
(A lone voice whispers)
This thing burns like a volcano surging through my nerves
This air around me moves, undulating like the Pacific, and every night
I slowly come to realise
As I enter this old realm
All I am now is ice.
For ice now crawls all over my skin
For that old touch of fire has retired
And as I look around.
Velumbound.
I can only hear a whispering darkness and see a lone spotlight in the near distance.
A lone bright white light that burns a straight line and casts a narrow beacon of low resistance
To the surrounding darkness.
And as I approach.
The bright beam illuminating the Great In-Between
I see a great silver scrying mirror, hanging suspended in the stillness
And as always, the once whispering darkness goes silent
As shadows in the Great mirror suddenly freeze
Motionless
And then into the white light steps a beautiful soul
With a tale to be told
Of long-lost days
Before they grew old
When God sent them down to be born
To experience society with all its ensuing notoriety
In whatever form
And in that rare moment
In a nanosecond before they speak
I always wonder what I would say
When my time too comes, and into the white light I stand
For the shadows in the Great silver Scrying mirror to watch
As I too reveal my final thoughts
After being struck down by Death's golden cosh
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
To celebrate over 100,000 views.
A transmission exploring the idea that every person carries an inner darkness—pain, trauma, and emotional memories—that the “High Self” (your higher, wiser, spiritual self) tries to separate from in order to stay whole, loving, and unjudgmental.
The transmission frames this inner world in mystical language (“Enochian,” “Abyss,” “Red Door,” “Purple Door”) to show a spiritual journey of healing and self-transformation.
Everyone holds inner pain, but your divine or higher self knows you are worthy of love beyond that pain.
By acknowledging but not being controlled by your suffering, by choosing gratitude, and by striving to grow, you move into a better, more spiritual version of yourself.
This journey brings you closer to enlightenment or higher beings (“the Enochians”).
Title: Whispers from The Enochian.
(A lone voice whispers)
Did you know there's a darkness in you all?
A hidden place where your High Self leaves a part of itself behind a mystical wall.
The Abyss, it's called.
An ominous place of broken dreams.
Recollections of heartbroken moments and emotional pain.
The High Self doesn't want to feel or revisit again.
For regardless of what it's done or hasn't done.
No matter if it's lost or won.
It knows it's worthy of love, as things in the mortal world do not define it.
And by sending all its blues to the Abyss. It can try to never feel used or abused.
And be able to see itself reflected in others.
So not to judge.
For by doing so:
It can close that Red Door of Pain and open the Purple Door.
To believe in something greater than itself and to try to be more.
Do more.
For being grateful every day for all the little things created by your version of the Irreducible Creator.
Has and always will be.
The greatest story of your life and the ultimate sign of true wealth.
For trying to wield control of your mental health through gratitude.
Is one of the only ways to steady the ship with you at the helm.
No matter the heartbreak or pain you've accrued.
As you sail slow and steady.
To meet us.
The Enochians.
Towards the crypt.
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
A transmission that opens by treating internal desire ("a fire within you") as something physical.
It is not just an emotion;
It has the power to literally "flow throughout every sinew" if the individual chooses to "pursue it."
But it's High Stakes
The transmission introduces a striking paradox with the phrase "A double death to an ordinary life."
Choosing to follow this fire requires destroying a mundane, safe existence.
However, this destruction is not final.
It is immediately followed by a "rebirth through exchanged breath," suggesting that intense passion or love brings a completely new, heightened state of being.
But with Permanence and Vulnerability
The word "Scarified" (meaning to scratch, etch, or cut the skin) implies that once you let this desire in, you are permanently altered.
The transformation leaves a lasting mark with the Personification of Passion.
For within the final lines, desire is personified.
It "saunters in / Naked / Into that very room," portraying it as raw, unashamed, intoxicating ("strange perfume"), and impossible to ignore once it arrives.
Shall we begin?
Have you been Scarified, Velumbound?
(A lone voice whispers)
There's a fire within you all
For we see it
That can flow throughout every sinew
If you pursue it
Desire
A double death to an ordinary life
But a rebirth through exchanged breath
Scarified forever
By its strange perfume
As it saunters in
Naked
Into that very room
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
My name
is not one name
but a thousand lonely names
Names now with no living skin of touch but of stone
Pleading for recognition and love
A dream they clutch
Whispering of pain
Ingrained
From lost love... To...
Well, you'll have to wait and see
As Hestia keeps you warm
On Tiamat, who formed the heavens and the earth
Sitting on Terra
who supports you while you live
And will surround you... when you too cross over...
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
(A lone voice whispers)
At the core of all things
Beyond all bells pleading to ring
There is still something magical AI can never replace
Creating something visceral with your own hands
For a machine could make the lines more sharper
The fonts more bolder
But has it ever experienced life and all its inexplicable mysteries
As it got older
Like you
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Your time.
As the lone reader, you must awaken, grow, and "be enthroned" (claim your own power and sovereignty) before this predatory, looming entity ("The Tall Man") claims ownership over you.
Shall we begin?
Blessed be.
Velumbound.
(A lone voice whispers)
And so we can only pray our whispers slink in
To rouse the weary sleepers with our secret songs
To tell them it's never over
For never is too long
But to sing and
Awaken your soul
And tell it before Summerlands here
A new world of twin suns
Nightengales and a warm breeze
Where lost souls wait
To appease all appetites
Which seek salvation at night
But to set your world dancing
As these words like Alyssum seeds are sown
For soon will Summerland come
So just know
We from so long ago
Whisper
For it’s now time for you to begin to grow
And be enthroned
Before you are
Like all living things
By the Tall Man
Be owned
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
