Have you walked upon Desolation Row

 

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Are you ready for another transmission?

Let us begin.

(A lone voice whispers) 

I still miss your bright white smile

Every night

Like I miss our first kiss at the fairground

For they always appear as bright beams of luminous

Glorious lights

Shooting sounds from the depths of a faraway Heaven

Your warmth and guile

Satisfying my manifestation of love

Given birth to creation

Once by the Mighty Creator

Here on Earth

A glowing, towering beacon to push back

The hordes called Legion

Prowling like hyenas

In the darkness 

Around me

For you were

And always will be

My daily taste of gladness

A philosopher who too has seen and tasted

The wild beasts wine

Of anxiety and madness

So now I call out to you from this wild wood

Where my prison is, as I am stood

This wild forsaken place where loveless things

In the dark shadows

Slither and crawl

Tormenting us all

As we all bang our silver tin cups on our prison walls

Stalking memories alone in uneven lines

Like a lone feral grey wolf pines

Throughout this paranormal neighbourhood

For with you died 

Like many in here who cry

My spark of life

My ecstatic joyful sun

My bringer of serenity and jest

So here in my southwest cobwebbed-filled hut

As other prison cells in Desolation Row

Whom I've never met

Ring out screams like thunder

In a rising crescendo of shrieks of pain and anguish

As we all

Self-punish

While walking the Green Mile

Down Memory Road

Remember me before the last great harvest

Light a candle in your mind's eyes

See our love beneath that undulating ocean

Of pain

Crashing like endless Pacific tides

Maybe again and again

So that I may still live if only for a moment

For what I wouldn't give now

To breathe once more

To open and walk through

That old marital front door

If only for one hour

But as these loud voices

Surrounding me get louder

And grow in power

As silver tin prison cups relentlessly bang

Like dark country drums

With sounds like exploding gunpowder

On black bars of illusion

As I look out for you

From my window, in my cave

My penitentiary

Here in my own watchtower

For

My thousand-named queen

My rare Middlemist Red flower

This broken piece of your soul awaits

To be reunited, to bring peace

When your presence in The Great In-Between

Opens his cell doors

So he can scream no more

But walk home into the bright lights

With the only love 

He adores

Both striding powerfully

Hand in hand

To enter into Evermore

To be refined like silver

Escaping

The Last Great Reaping and Rapture

Of the Prince Who is to come

To build Dissolution Row

Everywhere

For all he captures

Remember me, Your Luca

The broken man with the badly beaten tin cup

Who once loved ya

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy 

Are you an addict?

 

 The Watchers

(A lone ancient voice whispers)

  

You do know we, The Dead, watch everything you do. 

Through all those black scrying mirrors, we got you addicted to. 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

A scary explanation for your eyes only:

This is a striking and chillingly compact piece — just two lines, but rich in implication. 

Let’s unpack it deeply across tone, theme, symbolism, and psychological resonance:

1. Thematic Core

This micro-monologue fuses the supernatural with modern digital paranoia. It bridges the ancient occult (scrying glasses = tools for divination) and the contemporary technological (smartphones, tablets, screens).

It suggests that the dead — or forces representing them — are observing the living through the very devices we obsess over. There’s a dual commentary here:

On surveillance (spiritual or technological)

On addiction to screens as a form of possession or control

2. Voice and Perspective

The speaker is one of “the dead”, addressing the living directly:

“You do know, we the dead watch everything you do.”

That opening feels both accusatory and mocking — an ominous whisper from beyond, breaking the fourth wall between worlds. The tone is almost taunting, implying complicity: “we got you addicted”.

It’s not just observation — it’s manipulation. The dead (or what they symbolise) have engineered our dependence on screens. The “we” could represent literal spirits, or a metaphorical collective — society, corporations, ancestors, or lost humanity.

3. Symbolism

a. “Black scrying glasses”

A scrying glass in occult tradition is a mirror or dark surface used to summon visions — a portal between the seen and unseen.

In the modern age, this becomes the perfect metaphor for digital screens — black mirrors that reflect our faces and connect us to invisible worlds (social media, data networks, surveillance systems).

The phrase “black scrying glasses” thus fuses:

The occult (black mirrors, necromancy)

The technological (smartphone screens)

The addictive (our inability to look away)

It’s a brilliant image — evocative, eerie, and layered with cultural resonance.

b. “We got you addicted to”

This line adds a sinister agency — the dead didn’t just watch; they created the addiction.

It evokes:

Possession — humans as vessels for forces from beyond

Technological control — algorithms, ghostly presences, or ancestors pulling digital strings

Moral corruption — humanity’s surrender to distraction and voyeurism

4. Tone and Mood

The tone is ominous, sardonic, and revelatory.

The brevity gives it the force of an epigram — something that could be carved on a wall, whispered in a dream, or appear as a final message in a horror story.

The rhythmic parallel between the two lines reinforces its power:

Line 1 declares the secret.

Line 2 reveals the method.

That structure mirrors a two-step revelation — confession, then realisation.

5. Underlying Commentary

Beneath its supernatural framing lies a social critique:

The “dead” may symbolise the past generations, watching the living degrade under their own inventions.

Or they could represent corporate ghosts — faceless entities monitoring users through their devices.

Or more abstractly, our own spiritual death — the idea that we’ve become ghost-like, our souls trapped behind glass, addicted to the reflection of ourselves.

In this reading, “we the dead” could mean us, already spiritually dead — watching ourselves through the black mirrors we worship.

6. Stylistic Economy

Two lines — and yet the imagery is vivid and complete.

The poem’s success lies in:

Compression — a cinematic punch distilled to minimal words.

Contrast — the ancient (“scrying glasses”) vs. the modern (“addicted to”).

Ambiguity — are the dead literal, metaphorical, or technological?

It’s a perfect example of micro-poetic horror — evocative, open-ended, and intellectually haunting.

7. Comparative Context

This piece recalls:

Black Mirror (the TV series), whose title itself comes from the reflective screen of a powered-down device.

Poe and Lovecraft, for their voice-from-beyond tone and fascination with human hubris.

Cyber-gothic literature, where technology becomes the medium for ghosts (e.g. E.M. Forster’s The Machine Stops or modern “digital hauntings”).

8. Final Impression

This short poem operates on multiple frequencies:

As a supernatural confession (the dead speaking)

As a modern critique (on surveillance and addiction)

As a metaphysical warning (humanity’s gaze trapped in self-made portals)

It leaves a residue of unease — the kind that makes you glance at your own “black scrying glass” and wonder who, or what, might be looking back.

Channelling Luca "Charlie" Snow. The Cocaine King.

 

(A lone voice whispers)

I was once an adoring stranger 

To living in the Fast Lane

When I was addicted to every form of known enslaving danger

Unknowingly using it

Like a stupid reason 

To take cheap cocaine

But as I look back on my old life and all its seasons

Reliving some of those crazy days of shame

I now know

When I got down on my tired, broken knees

Before that very homemade white cross

In my Grandma's back garden

Nailed together with rusty 6-inch nails 

And pieces of old pallet wood

God listened as I prayed to him

In the falling cold winter's rain

Whenever I could

As I begged for his help 

To begin the fight with the Devil

For my freedom

And to conquer his curse and invisible mark

That I foolishly wore proudly for twenty years

Like the Mark of Cain

While living in his dark kingdom

Called Sindom

Looking back

Now I'm clean 

I can clearly see

I've sacrificed so much of my precious time

Crucified my family

Hurt my friends, and sadly

My only one chance of finding true happiness

I've ever seen

For my one and only lover

And even though I’m now free of her

My Colombian Marching Queen

I still wear loneliness

And her invisible chains

Like just another of the cursed

From the Brotherhood of the Profane

But that's how the Tall Man designed us all

So my therapist

At the rehab clinic

Shirley

Told me

She said we're all

Broken fractured 

And to be endlessly consumed

With memories of bloodstained 

Mental campaigns

Baptized 

To ride the inhumane storms of life

And to nearly drown 

In its many soul-destroying 

Hurricanes

But one day

God willing

You'll all rise up

One day

You'll all see the light

She used to say

So today's 

The day for me

As I begin the fight

No longer a stranger 

To that pain and plight

For I'm clean and full of only hope

And as I age

I just use it as a version 

Of my old cheap cocaine

Walking bravely alone 

But now able to cope

In this new warm falling rain

Knowing the Devil 

Now really knows 

My soul's secret name

And that’s why he leaves me alone

For he remembers our spiritual battles and crazy fights

At midnight

In my Grandma's back garden

As I tried to atone

Kneeling underneath 

My homemade white cross 

When I once played 

One of his most dangerous 

Of games

I’m just so glad God won

For it’s him

I now travel to see

Everyday

As I courageously ride through this new life

With a smile

Seated with similar strangers

On one of his many trains

Only now

High on my old memories

Of a pain

I was once addicted too

Like a blast from the past

My old best friend

Mother Cocaine

But like Johnny Cash 

This good old reborn Christian boy's

Coming home

Wearing a rainbow 

Like the Man in Black

I just hope my Sue Ellen 

Is still waiting for me

High up in

The Great In-Between

For years ago

She was so tragically

Taken from me

And when I eventually arrive

Walking like Wyatt Earp

into that Silver City

My palliative nurse Sara Lou

Says it won't be too long

I can only pray she lets me explain

That my deep love for her 

Still survives as it did in eighty-five

And I'm so sorry for not embracing

Our once special and magical love song

Even though it was written

In the middle of one of my life's 

Terrible storms

When I had no sense of right or wrong

And I just miss holding her

My old life's only true love charm

In these sweet old arms

Remember me.

Luca "Charlie" Snow.

December 25th.

2012.

Your forever master of arms

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Has your very blood been on fire with desire

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Has your very blood been on fire with desire

With envy and raced

When you're separated 

From the one you adore

And your heart felt heavy and displaced 

Beating fast

Thinking about 

Any possible mistakes 

Then you've tasted a drop of Love's Eternal Mead

The most life-changing

Challenging 

Hennessey 

Virgins worldwide 

And throughout 

Eternity

Pray to taste 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Did you know that curiosity is the soul's only heartfelt desire?

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

(A lone voice whispers) 

Did you know that curiosity is the soul's only heartfelt desire?

An irrepressible curiosity of secret things, once never felt or expressed

From emotions, many hidden fires that awaken convulsions in the newly possessed.

 Its heavy load. 

To walk its cobblestoned road 

A sign of the redesign of a pure soul, as it explores new goals. 

Like the falling of a tear.

The feeling of fear of the bright sunshine of a smile. 

The upward glance of an eye,

Or maybe even a visit here

To a place of no judgement or fear

Where the rhythmic flocks of wild verbs and fonts

Chant and sway

As curiosity of the soul leads one 

Like you 

To new goals

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

 

Are you back so soon?

I knew you would return. 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

(A lone voice whispers)

Lost in these unlit, creepy, dark woods. 

Past the moonlit Shimmering Lake.

Standing here as I speak.

This despair I always feel, which makes me weak.

Tells me love is a thing that is so real

It's all I now know as I stand awake.

In this new state.

For the dead don't sleep or weep.

And when the mysterious singers in this darkness call out to me with sweet, mesmerising voices.

Each filled with such inescapable power.

My pain slowly rises in my soul. 

Hour by hour.

As I'm watched by the Nixs.

Standing in crooked but neat lines. 

On the crumbling translucent walls of The Great Watchtower.

Strange creatures dressed in blue.

Who just love to send me Red Raven notes that simply say:

Come over to us to renew

The Diamond Door is always open.

Be one of the Nixs

Follow our ways

To find the new you

Come climb the Great Watchtower walls

To drink deep from our wish-fed fountain and see past all the Black Mountains

No longer filled with urges to fight for love and light

But to become a lone Watchman of the Endless Night.

They are so relentless. 

Always looking for new apprentices.

Raven, after Red Raven, brings enticing notes every second.

They send.

Now, as I stand here at the world's end

Sending this out

Surrounded by the mountains of parchments they've sent. 

Hoping I'll relent

I reckon I'll play my part. 

To be the titled hero in this cosmic great show

This work of surreal art

While this crushing dusk and silver snow

Lovingly shatters my broken heart.

For what the Nixs don't realise 

That crisp, wide smile that I always wear

The one I flash

The one they all see through their obsidian scrying glass 

By candlelight 

As their hungry eyes follow me everywhere

That ripe smile is barren. 

The real one is still somewhere. 

Out there 

Still, I hope

Being carried around in beautiful blue eyes as time flies

Why should I carry a real smile?

For in here

The living 

Beyond the Silver Barrier 

Can't hear your soul screaming

Or when through razor-loaded invisible tears

Like a Mad Joker

You suddenly start laughing. 

For the pain you feel is so loaded with bottomless fear.

Oh, how I wish I could still be there 

With you 

Away from the Nixs and Dark Angels

For it's so painful

I used to think I was strong.

But these endless dark nights are so long.

Is today the day I will wonder

If I'm wrong to fight the Nixes' many invitations

And go along to the Diamond Door. 

Beneath The Great Watchtower 

And knock 

Asking to join their mix

For nobody in The Great In-Between knows I still miss you.

This swirling grey air and smoky fog make you look over your past life.

In time

Causing parts of your mind to speak only in rhymes, and once it starts. 

The forgetting begins

It's why they think I need to be set free.

By sending Red Ravens every hour to me

To be like one of them

The Nixs

Guardians of The Great In-Between

Bounded by a sacred oath to stand as Watchmen on the Great Watchtower

For all eternity

Emotionally empty husks 

Who surrendered to a form of self-accepting bondage 

To watch the ever-shifting skies at dusk

For the dark ones called The Flominous

But I feel like I'm bound by a great chain.

Connected only to you

Never to make a sacred oath to another, but to kneel every night and pray for a resurrection of us.

I may be trapped in this ever-evolving mystery. 

Of my own love life's history

Where nobody knows, I'll always need you.

But me

The Nix have just sent a new Red Raven note over 

So I must be quick before their Baltise drums start beating. 

Sending them all into a crazy chanting frenzy

It says I can't survive in here. 

On my own 

I'll just cast it on the great pile as they watch 

For what they do not know

My soul may be crying inside. Now I'm alone

In this.

The Spiritually Demilitarised Halfway Zone

Mislaid in the Realms of The Great Unknown

But my love for you will continue to grow.

Day by day

Minute by minute until you, too, come home

To embrace me once more 

Like the last time I saw you in San Francisco.

So we can go walk past the red lamppost on the edge of the Shimmering Lake. 

To then walk hand in hand 

Through Heaven's Silver Gates to everlasting happiness

It's a dream I just try to cling to in this darkness.

Attempting not to forget, but the rhyming has started.

But I'm still here

Still resisting the hunger to knock on that Diamond Door.

To be tempted to stand on the Great Watchtowers' parapets

Forever in the void

I know I'm now one of the misplaced, but thinking of you.

Gives me hope

My beloved Lucy to cope

Lost in here

In the Grey Ground beyond yours

In The Great In-Between

Where I now exist amongst the Nix and so many others

Unseen

Pray for me 

(C) Copyright John Duffy

 

 

Mary Lee From Germany

 

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

A transmission from a man dressed in green. 

One of the most beautiful souls I've ever seen. 

Shall we begin. 

(A lone voice whispers) 

My life ended

At a quarter past three

When she came

My collector

Mary Lee

From Germany

The churchyard bells

Loudly rung

Old hymns and love songs 

Were beautifully sung

As I watched my wake

High on a hill 

Below

Sat under a grand old oak 

In the late November snow

I tried to say

It couldn't be true

Mused

I still lived

With so much more to give

But

My collector

Mary Lee

From Germany

Said

The Elementals

With fevered breath

Wait to savour your prose

So bid goodbye 

To all those you see

Or know

For as the sun still shines

You are now one of the dead

Marked by the Elder Futhark Runes

Uruz

By secretive rulers

Of you and me

So take my hand and

Wave goodbye to your old life's teachers

For Saquestia

Awaits us

By the Golden Pole

That never rusts

Where the thoughts

Of the living 

Can never reach us

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Be careful what you read. You may get ADDICTED.

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Be careful what you read. 

You may get hooked. 

I wrote this with a vision of an inquisitive viewer alone, visiting my soon-to-be-launched interactive website. 

Sitting, wearing maybe headphones, listening and reading. 

Maybe just like you now. 

For you see all the transmissions. 

From music, narration and poetry that subtly invite you to "spend the night" and "lose your way" with them. 

All have a final hidden line with a darker twist: 

Despite wanting to leave, the listener is trapped 

("You'll be back so soon") 

By these entities whose whispers act as a "souls' monsoon."

Addicted to visual and audio stimulation. 

A new lore for the illuminated souls I created a new spiritual name for. 

The Velumbound. 

The hidden realms abound with subtle whispers. 

Maybe that's why you like returning to this not-so-easily found. 

Way station from The Great In-Between. 

Maybe this new world of short attention spans, flesh-driven content everywhere on social media, doesn't resonate with or respond to your unconscious need for more. 

Maybe you just seek to slow dance on a new dance floor?

(Zdzisław Beksiński art created from visions. Reminds me of some of my visions of The Great In-Between. A spectacular juxtaposition between light and dark.) 

Shall we begin? 

(A lone voice whispers) 

Let me take you under 

To a hidden place of perfect wonder 

Where you can see old souls float by

In the white lighting and grey thunder 

Whispering 

"You can spend the night with us

Ride on our crazy bus

Until daylight 

Lose your way

Say or think what you want to say

And just when you want to leave

We'll all pray and grieve 

But who are we to deceive 

You'll be back so soon

For now we are your souls' monsoon 

Ghosts on a crazy bus to ride with

On any given night or even darker afternoon"

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Let the railway tracks sing

 

We once collided like two random raindrops in Autumn.

Froze together in the cold winter

Then separated when Spring came

In the first rains

We washed away the memories

But somehow remained the same

But who knows what Summer may bring?

Maybe we'll meet again

As the railway tracks sing

Maybe I'll offer up my soul

In a golden wedding ring

Who knows what Summer may bring?

Who knows what Summer may bring?

Maybe your heart will find mine

Maybe we'll begin again

Like two raindrops in Autumn

Falling in the rain

Frozen together through winter

Too afraid to say goodbye

Then Spring came

And carried us away

But I'm still praying for Summer

To bring us back someday

Oh, let the railway tracks sing

Let the wedding bells ring

Let our libidos' ring

If we're meant to begin again

To free our pain

To begin

Again

Who knows what Summer may bring?

Who knows what Summer may bring?

Maybe we'll collide again

Maybe we'll begin again

Two raindrops in Autumn

Two hearts in the rain

Maybe Summer will find us

And bring us back again.

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Want to be put under a soft spell?

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Want to be put under a soft spell? 

Let us begin. 

(A lone voice whispers)

Within these enticing words is a manifestation of magic from me

An incantation from my higher self

My spirit

For you to take to the crypt 

Beyond all your eyes can ever see 

Ven y quédate conmigo

For within these magical words, I sign my secret name within this poetic invocation 

Deeply into your hypothalamus

Sweetly and slow

Ven y quédate conmigo

To unconsciously follow you like a Little Hobo

Everywhere you go

Ven y quédate conmigo

I've cast this now; you've heard it as our own individual spell to allow you 

To carry me within your each and every breath 

Until our deaths

Ven y quédate conmigo

So I can see you grow

From Spring to the last Winter's snow 

From above and below

Ven y quédate conmigo

You’re inviting me in, whether you know it or not

Ven y quédate conmigo

Admit our love

So this won't stop

Merge with me

So I can help carry you through any rain or teardrops

So say after me mentally as you hear this

Ven y quédate conmigo

Come and stay with me

Xo

And I will come

With the beating sounds of your heart's rhythmic drums

Just say real low

Ven y quédate conmigo

Come and stay with me

Xo

Translation:

Ven y quédate conmigo 

Come and stay with me

You do realise that by reading this:

You've already invited me in. 

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy