. Poetry from The Great In-Between: March 2021

Friday, March 19, 2021

The Soucouyant

(A lone voice whispers)

Like a lone argus-eyed oblique tattered caliginous silhouette


Moving extremely cautiously in the severe deadly silence


The Mistress of the Voices of the Dead


Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett


A rare blatherskite whose white emblem appears on the backs of


The Great In-Between black gull's wings


Who just love to gather in huge invisible circles above lost souls 


Like earthly Starling flocks


To crow and sing


Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett


The seasonal bringer of red torches to burn at midnight


By kings

Princesses

Prince's

Peers and Lords


Red torches that would never go out 


No matter even if they got soaking wet 


When she stirs up her twin Sister Anxiety 


To fight in all gathered 


As she's summoned and ceremonially swept up


By her swollen army of mindless hordes


By their pleas

Calling to be re-masked and rebranded


With her new Emotions suit of self-resurrecting armour


Which her faithful armies seek


Full black leather and a two-sided blade and a white candle


Always lit to dispel the darkness 


As old or new emotions cascade 


To help guide them 

A new follower home to atone


After they've been beautifully betrayed


And all their inner larders have been raided


By a conjured blind colporteur


Will you grasp Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett


Shadowy hand to then suddenly hear the summoning anthem


Played loudly by her ethereal band


Like I once did


The forbidden one known only to the few by her real unspoken name 


Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett 



She of the steely green eyes


Who always appears from the West 


Looking for the heartbroken or just depressed


With horse and carriages following her in straight lines


For the soon to be possessed


Stacked high with new flesh suits of black leather 


And carrying white lit candles and sharpened blades


For those lost


Thinking about all the ones who broke the sanctity of their sacred trust


When they were betrayed and waylaid


Who now need a new armour made out of black leather


A white candle and a two-sided blade



After hearing and experiencing the traumas linked to the explosion 


Of one of her hand made emotional grenades



Will you too hear these hissed words


Accompanied by the shrill sound of her ancient bejewelled Shofar


If you to her call


Surrender

Surrender


Will you summon me with your low cries and pleas


The true queen 

All the real honey bees seek


Will you stand and listen as my priestess


Amongst my unvoiced bannerman 


The harsh voiced Sangoma of the Netherworlds


Gathers and commands you to pull on my black leathers


Hold up your white candle and a two-sided blade


And return with her to my home forever 


A new soldier in an invisible army of the betrayed


A place where emotions no longer cause the Amygdala to get wet


For you know and accept no velleity can save you now


Will you follow I 


Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett


Into the sunset to reach a new land


Hidden just beyond The Green Hills in the West


Copyright John Duffy


Friday, March 12, 2021

A story from Morpheus The Greek

  


Press play so the music can wash over you as you read. Salute.





Are you bored and want some random lines to read?

Thank me later.


It's raining as I look outside. 

Be safe wherever you are.

Salute.

Friday the 12th of March, 2021.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------


Are we carefully scrutinized by undiscovered forces from another realm? 

Do we in the mist, live forever

Many of your types I pass daily but especially at midnight

When I sit in the edge of their bed

Have always asked

 

Even though we're all invisible


We still hear you 


As you struggle to confide in the forbidden silence


Especially in the last dregs of sunlight before dusk


Are we, immortal souls

You continuously question


What would you do with all our time

Would it drive you right out of your mind


Well, here's my answers 

Just for you to read before you turn too turn to dust


In here

This dark place known to the enlightened few as The Shadow Lands

Where I now exist and drink almond ambrosia to worship and pray alone

 

Commissioned until eternity to strive to excite lost souls 

To confess as a penance 

I've been anointed with as a chance to find a means to atone


Sacrificed deserted souls who stumble and end up my way

Through random long or short legions of their exorcisms m in red rivers of  linear poetry


Like a drunken
James Brown

I gather them around to listen to what my words truly means and say

While high on whiskey and singing 

Papa's Got A New Bag globally 


Dressed like my prototype


Good old Bob Dylan in black

When he once faced his own faithful hurricane


I sometimes entertain them by dancing wildly in a smoke-filled circle with the all-time king of pop

Michael Jackson


Whilst moon-walking in grey skies

Watched by others and the occasional falling star


My agastopia of  delicious lines grace their minds


Like a new friend I was recently introduced to


Hugh Hefner


The one famous for all those damned but hot
Playboy’s pictures


That send adolescent and immature mind's cerebral cortex's 

And libidos totally insane


I sometimes stand in the half-light 


Telling them

 I'm so strong and powerful like that Thandie Newton


The one who once found strength 

Self-worth and power

In a new Westworld 

Whilst being reborn again and again


My words are whispered enchantments you see

Spells sent just to serenade your tired bored five senses 


Filled with a crescendo of rising fire like when Marlon Brando


Embraced emancipation while causing total carnage


Death and eventual apocalypse


In Cambodia 


As he boarded that fateful flight 707 from The Seventies 


Dreaming of his girl next door he left home


Called Sophia 


Am I a sceptic like some say or just a wide-boy spectator


A majestic soother like an out-worldly philosopher 

Or just a beguiling collaborator


Can you feel me


You ought to


I am simply giving you a mixture of words


Gracing your insatiable eyes


Through cheap or expensive plastic movie screens


As I hide in the dangerous depths 


Of the twenty-first century's fast-flowing mobile streams


For I'm just a beautiful old beast


A heaven-sent narrator


Steamrolling through with lustrous glossy keys 


To all the so many wet lesser brothels of your mind


As you sit watching and casually sipping these sweet-tasting words as you read


And just like so many


 I already know 


You'll soon become gloriously addicted to my cheap bottles of poetic mead 


You see
I'm just a non-living fossil


A mesmerising essence from bygone days 

Mentioned only once  in The Great Golden Books of The Byzantine 


I celebrate on Tuesdays and Sundays 


By going knee-deep into humanities new future


MK Ultraing new intellects forever


To live just to love me


As I program them
Like an expensive computer geek


I'm a mixture of all of life's sweet-tasting 
aromas and scarred sacred baggage's


Can you feel me yet


Am I just behind you


Watching and walking


As you stride out bravely in front


Or am I standing hiding 


Just beyond sight and keeping firmly closed


All the smokey doorways to all your dreams


Can you feel me like Old Nick


One of my dearest buddies whose everlasting


God that guy loves stalking you all like an ageless Marquis


Me


I'm just a once unvisited world of beguiling words


Just conceived into being by the 

Elemental unspoken old Gods from mystical Talen


Tasked to slowly just consume your earthly time 
of three scores and if you're lucky, ten


Can you feel my bony fingers stroking those secretive rooms 


The one's barely visited 
when you're awake and drunk 


In this worlds many addictive potions


But the ones you always use your golden keys to open and visit


When you dream 
and it's then and only then

That you'll see me

As I appear before you
Dressed in blue

To stimulate your mind to carefully unwind

All those old sometimes painful threads 

And through finding your own catharsis 


The freedom to write to be free


Copyright John Duffy

Wednesday, March 10, 2021

A Goddesses Power

 Press play as you read. Salute.



As entered my 
Secret White Room

Late last night


A place I constructed 

In the Great In-Between to relax


There
Low and behold 


On my black leather chair
Dressed all in white
Laid asleep


Was
A luscious
Shimmering form


As I approached 
Its glistening seductive shape
I saw it suddenly


Shake off its
Mesmerising alabaster cape


Before I could choose to quickly escape


It revealed
Its true inner self


She looked so luscious from head to toe
My heart whispered that now wasn't the time to go


Her raven coloured hair
And sleeping dark eyes
Whispered


Of deep and guilty
Pleasures and luscious wild places
I must be audacious
To visit


My inner thoughts sang
As my flesh adamantly cried out
And demanded that I must go on


As I approached
She stirred 
Moving in her disquieting sleep


I saw
A red sign covered in gold leaf butterflies imprinted on
The black studded chairs framework


It simply said


The Seductive One
Welcomes you


Trace your fingertips
Across her crimson
Red lips


If they taste sweet


Your soul 
She will eat


As I now gazed at
Her magnificent naked form


At a dark-haired beauty
Above all worldly
Norm


I felt adventurous
And boldly reached out


To slowly trace and follow
The contours of her
Luscious red lips


As I did so
Her mouth suddenly
Engulfed my finger 


knuckle-deep as she gyrated 
So sensuously in
Her deep sleep


Feeling braver 


I ran my other hand
Across her soft silky skin
And she responded by
Moaning


Like she demanded and needed a drop of immoral dark sin


By sucking harder and deeper
With her sharp teeth 


As they gripped my
fingertips hardening skin


Her form
 
Now moved
Undulating


Like a licentious belly-dancing
Queen


Made me wonder
What would happen now
In this 


My all-time favourite lucid deep dream


At that very moment
She suddenly rose


Her body emanated such sweet-smelling pheromones


I felt empowered to reach out and replace my finger with my hungry dark lips 


When I wrapped my
strong hands around
Her so so very soft hips


Strange music suddenly started
Playing as she whispered


Take me now over this black leather
Studded chair


A place where dark
Dreams can come true


Don't you recognise
Me yet


It's me 
Your only goddess


The one you always dream of


Sit me on that chair and kneel before me and eat all you need

Before I feed


And then only 
After that holy moment


Can we no longer
Pretend


For this 
Secret White Room
Is my lair


Just renounced to all others but you
And hidden in time


Where you can always return
And I can claim you
Again and again


As just mine


When she sat back in that 
Black leather chair


Before I took my place and kneeled


I can always remember
In that silent transmutation of sexual dark energy 


In that very moment


I knew then
What all starstruck lovers 

Regardless of gender

All silently know


Once your tongue is allowed entrance
Into loves delicious tasting fountain


Once you've had a 
Sweet luscious subtle taste


A drop of heavenly
Ambrosia


Your life with any other will just turn to dust and diminish 


Slowly blowing in the four winds and eventually going to waste


It's why I always return


After praying for sleep as the nighttime clocks 
Scattered all over the house, I keep


Approaches twelve

 
To once again see her standing naked


The Goddess I now worship 
With all that long
Crow black hair


Standing and just waiting
Before sitting back down into that black leather studded chair


And demanding
I have another taste
So she can feed


In these milliseconds as I pray for sleep


Before I begin to satisfy all her dark desires
And unspoken needs in that secret white room


I know deep down
What all her other slaves know and hidden keep


She now has total power


Power 


Total power over me


Copyright John Duffy


A dash of sensuous energy on a windy cold day in the UK. Salute.

Monday, March 1, 2021

Sad Monday Blues


 

I went for a cleansing ceremony a few weeks ago, 


As I've felt the presence of a negative energy stalking me as I slept.


So after I spoke to someone in the know.

Here's the story of that particular show. 

-------------


After entering the Mage's dimly lit


Incense filled

Smoky room, 


he immediately said a dark shadow 


Invisible to the human eye

Had followed me in 


And to sit down on the black leather chair 

Beside the white bowl


When he splashed some holy water around me,

In a wide circle


Some of the drops fizzled with rage, I swear.


And after leaving with a blessing of secret incantations, 


I am sworn to not to repeat anywhere 


He said I am stalked by a lost soul from the Dark Valleys.


From the Lower Levels


And I should stop any contact with their living families


 If I had any and gradually things will return to normal.


He said no matter what they seek to do, say or write


I should ignore their attention-seeking stories or plights


For they are just another dark rite 

Conjured


Maybe with others in the middle of the night 


For they are but Archons in disguise 


Who simply want to feed off my negative energy

Caused by their lies


He ended with these lines.


Thomas. 


Just pray for them and that they may with new courage, 


Still seek the Lord's light and he, The Almighty,


May welcome them back and absolve their many hidden sins.


Therefore, 

As I mourn for the loss of someone lost forever to me as I return from their funeral today, 


And having to deal with this negativity, I feel.


All I can offer is my prayers that you


The lost soul from the Dark Valleys.


 See the light 

And leave the darkness 


For I forgive you.


For true forgiveness is real

For it's a gift that no one can ever steal


(C)

Copyright John Duffy


Image shared under fair usage policy via Pinterest. 


The Oracle in the Mists