. Poetry from The Great In-Between: Mr Dark Eyes Speaks

Monday, June 7, 2021

Mr Dark Eyes Speaks

Press play. Salute.



Tenebris Oculi (L) AKA Robert Olmstead 

(A lone voice whispers)


To all the mysterious souls just lost beyond my second sight and long reach


Hiding somewhere unknown in Father Times long silver grass


Lying scattered across all the bluest of ocean's and before all the greatest of Antarctic lakes


Quietly reading and trying to compose inspired poetry


Beseeching their inner minds great portico to quickly open


And spill forth


Secretive words only once whispered and spoken in the darkest of corridors 


Celebrating the festival of Karneia on the fourth


By the Pythia to bathe within its spectacular potency


In ancient Apollo's

candlelit yellow temples in Pompeii


In cold wintery nights


May these channelled words find a way 


To weave a magical spell to beguile your own inquisitive mind and everlasting soul 


To be slowly opened up with Apollo's ritual athame everywhere you go


For you to then find the courage to breach your own inner great gates


To finally find and drink from that mystical ever-flowing well 


Found in the centre of all things 


By only the true believers like you and the many travellers of the profound 


Seeking to taste whatever their spirits really desire and then hoping to make the return journey home


Filled and sated and dancing mentally to a new sound


Announcing the arrival of their life's only holy obligation


To then write profusely 


Be it at midnight or throughout the long days


Recalling and narrating the many sacred strands 


And complex explorations of the many layers of human emotions 


That comes smiling or snarling their way


From those just hidden beneath all blue and green seas


The Great Old Ones


So be it


Copyright John Duffy 

 

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