Country Dreaming

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Here's a deeply introspective, melancholic piece that explores the pain of lost love, memory, and emotional survival. 

It tries to brilliantly weave raw, vulnerable confession with vivid pop-culture and country music motifs to process a devastating romantic rupture. 

(A lone voice whispers)

In this never-ending storm 

Where powerful, introspective winds

Swallow you whole 

As the norm

A thought always strikes like a Promethium lightning bolt

Was there ever a place in your soul 

Where my picture hung and your soul

Extolled 

When it woke up 

As you dreamed

Before going on Astral patrol

For all I can do in humble worship

Is remember

The sweet taste of your favourite red lipstick 

The tantalising feel of your fingers 

Laced in CHANEL N°5 

Lingering around my shoulders

As we both wept 

Watching Beaches

Which always 

Left us speechless 

Do I still linger

In your echo chambers

Like Garth Brooks 

Your favourite Country singer

So in this moment

As my memories gather

Like friends 

In Low Places

As the thunder rolls

Just remember

If tomorrow never comes

And my prayers lay unanswered

I'll always remember how we danced 

As 

Loves ship 

Sailed in

And anchored

But now

Cancelled and abandoned 

As you look in another's eyes

I can only hope

Your memories get baptised 

Like mine

In brutal storms 

Of introspection 

For in my eyes

There are never any real

Goodbyes 

Just sweet country songs

Of reintroduction 

So we can walk 

Together again

Even though 

We were both cursed

By wet appetites

Of self-destruction 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

If Covid Media was a Senryu

 

If Covid Media was a Senryu

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Citizens line up 

(5)

Like spellbound blinded cash cows 

(7)

Follow our orders

(5)

A senryu must be exactly 3 lines.

Like a Haiku, a senryu must follow the 5-7-5 format:

The first line must have 5 syllables.

The second line must have 7 syllables.

The third line must have 5 syllables.

A senryu focuses on humans and usually contains irony.

It usually focuses on human nature.

It is not written about nature or the seasons.

A senryu does not have to rhyme.

Excess death figures recently released are truly tragic. 

43,000 nursing home deaths attributed to false narratives and gaslighting of the public at the time. (UK) 

The link to vaccines and the ensuing theatre seems undeniable. 

But how can medical practitioners, doctors, nurses, etc. 

Keep administering them with a clear conscience, despite the huge data relating to life-changing injuries and sudden death?

Answer. 

Radix malorum est cupiditas

(Greed is the root of evils) 

Scrying Mirror Dreams

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Today's transmission is a deeply melancholic, confessional piece of gothic romantic longing. 

It explores eternal love, haunting regret, spiritual connection, and the agonising aftermath of a broken relationship.

The narrative operates in an "astral" or spiritual realm, where the speaker—identifying as a "ghost" or an "astral envoy"—watches over a former lover who is grieving in the physical world.

Ultimately, "Scrying Mirror Dreams" is a declaration that true love is immortal. 

By refusing to say goodbye, the speaker elevates a failed earthly romance into a permanent celestial fixture, doomed to spin forever in the "seas of this black abyss."

Shall we begin? 

(A lone voice whispers)

I can subliminally feel 

All those sad fears

Rhythmically 

Swirling like sharpened kitchen knives

Within all my world, old choices

Which still cut 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

Surrounded by your favourite red roses 

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 

Through 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 once started

This inexplicable thing

This molten fire that still burns

 

Like it's taboo

Since we parted

Reaches so deep

Inside

I just can't sleep

Can't work

Can't recall

How many times

I've cried

Brokenhearted

For I remember

Those sweet salad days

Before our love

Died

And as we parted our ways

I always remember

Walking on the beach

With the girl 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 wandering around

In familiar round circles

And looking into 

This purple haze

The very mouth of this black abyss

I see

Before me

Looking at the mistakes

We once made

In my scrying mirror

As our tarot cards 

Were first laid

When we 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 old memories

Of our

First poetic kiss

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

You do know you're a soldier at war, don't you?

 This transmission introduces Psychomachia. 

The battle for the human soul. 

It posits that life is not peaceful. 

Rather, every human is a "born soldier" in a nonstop conflict between divine purity and demonic temptation.

By the Devil's wedding rings. 

A powerful metaphor for sin. 

A wedding ring represents a permanent covenant, commitment, and submission. 

Putting on his ring implies a soul has willingly bound itself to evil in exchange for worldly status.

"The theatre of war is all that those wide eyes can see": 

This suggests that the physical world. 

Everything you experience through your senses. 

Is merely the backdrop for a much larger, invisible spiritual conflict.

"Friendships... relieve the madness."

A brief touch of humanism amid a stark spiritual lecture. 

It acknowledges that human connection is the only comfort available to soldiers enduring the brutality of earthly life.

The transmission follows a strict chronological arc.

Absolute purity before birth.

Exposure to worldly temptations during life, and final judgment at death.

Well, look around. 

Read the list of the Devil's wedding rings. 

Are you unconsciously wearing one? 

(A lone voice whispers) 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

You do know you're a soldier in a spiritual war?

A war you're born into.

A theatre of war called Psychomachia. 

The war of the soul. 

Let us begin.

Before you're born,

You're pure at heart.

Your soul is pure and white before life starts.

And then you're born into a new form.

And the war for your soul begins.

As the Devil tempts you with lascivious and mischievous delights to sin.

The theatre of war is all that those wide eyes can see.

Over land or under sea.

As you grow in that new form.

To be all you can be.

As any battle-hardened soldier will tell you.

War is brutal, filled with sadness, but the true friendships

Are what relieve the madness.

And that war, my friend, never ends until you breathe your last breath. 

At the end.

And then find which side you stand on.

For temptation is a powerful thing.

Such delicious things which whisper.

"They will make your soul sing."

But always pause and think.

For if you put on one of the Devil's wedding rings.

To live as a queen or king and all it brings.

Rings like:

Pride — placing oneself above others or above God.

Greed (Avarice) — an excessive desire for wealth or possessions.

Lust — disordered or excessive desire, especially sexual.

Envy — resentment of another’s blessings or success.

Gluttony — overindulgence, especially in food or drink.

Wrath (Anger) — uncontrolled rage or hatred.

Sloth (Acedia) — spiritual or moral laziness; neglect of one’s

You'll slowly forfeit the right.

To gain your angel wings.

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy 

Mistress of The Shadows

 

Are you a nurse?

 Blessed be. 

Well-bound. 

A transmission for all the wonderful nurses. 

Does hospitalisation and being under the care of a nurse or others?

Connected to improving or maintaining one's health. 

Leave a lasting impression due to feeling vulnerable at the time? 

A lasting encounter that will always linger? 

Let us begin. 

Her gentle, graceful touches are so beautiful and incredibly captivating. 

Soothing. 

They seem to play a delightful melody. 

To vanquish all my mortal fears. 

Like the rarest of heavenly sunsets. 

That emerges with a twinkling smile. 

In the midst of pink and red frontiers. 

When time itself. 

Appears to stop flexing and moving. 

Swirling like a god-like deity. 

In a newly lit sky. 

She is the quintessence of glamour. 

In a nighttime high society ball. 

Filled with dancing masked courting fireflies. 

Who watches her every fluid movement. 

In jaw-dropping awe. 

When they pause to rest. 

On one of my beautifully 

wallpapered walls. 

A rare evening.

Serenading the gathering of a few enamoured spirits.  

Where honoured souls.

Gather in their best dresses.

And bespoke suits to readily confess.

Her delicate hands.

Move like Mother Moon.

Gently over my trembling horizons.  

Whispering my secret name.

And claiming me as her. 

domain. 

For we are now consummate soul lovers. 

And no longer just worldly friends. 

A bright new world is always breathed into light. 

And lost in her delicious touches. 

In that spectacular twilight. 

For under the gaze of my devotion. 

I can only reflect her love of her professionalism.  

In my hazel-coloured lens.  

The darkness surrounding us. 

Like an old friend. 

Sings a lasting symphony. 

Of happiness and lingers in the celestial. 

As angels watch and smile. 

No man-made treaties. 

Or paper laws. 

Can separate us. 

For now. 

Our bond in the midnight sun. 

Soon will wildly run. 

We'll never lose this particular twilight. 

I hope. 

And these baptised rays will never lose their red and pink hue. 

For when we first met. 

I'll always remember. 

That I willingly sank knee-deep. 

Into your green and blue. 

For in that magical transference of spiritual energy. 

I knew in that metaphysical moment. 

Why God had sent me, and it's why now.  

I'll always belong. 

To just you.

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

Do you need a prayer in these dark times?

 Blessed be. 

Velumbound 

White candlesticks and incense

We burn 

In this

Divine silence 

Low-tempo music

We play in this 

Our secret temples 

Praying to you

For sacred guidance 

Gifts of

Oaths of Allegiance 

We offer

In defiance 

Of this life's

Ever-increasing violence 

Like trinkets of gold

On this

Our old

Alabaster altar stone 

Blessings of lost dreams

Shining with such gleam 

Oh, Lord

We call to you 

See us

From beyond the swirling grey smoke 

Speak to us 

Within the rise of morning sun 

And the fall of the midnight moon 

Whisper your insights into us

In morning or night 

As slow drum beats

Of seconds and minutes

Bow in defeat 

Breathe into us 

New hope 

For we are but life's many dancers 

Who call for their Father

As children 

Praying and singing for glory

So that when you see or hear our stories 

Of the painful days 

You'll show us a new way 

So today 

We burn

Frankincense and myrrh 

Sage and sandalwood 

To be sent up

Like beacons of fidelity 

Into the fresh air 

Infused with prayers to renew 

To help us

Live again 

So Father

Look upon us with favour 

And

Savior 

Walk once more within our deep dreams 

From the hidden spaces in between

Oh, Great Father

We beseech thee 

Free us from the

Curse of Violence in Men 

With this prayer of praise

Amen 

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy 

What about us

 

Have you walked down Freedom Road

 

The End