. Poetry from The Great In-Between: March 2022

Thursday, March 31, 2022

The Monologue of The Night Raven


Press play before reading. Salute.

(A lone voice whispers)


Some people like to wear their hearts on their sleeves


And smile at the watching world


It's so much more courageous and revolutionary than anything


I could ever conceive 


For I used to like to keep mine undercover 


Like carefully hidden artillery guns


So it could recuperate and give it time


To try to let it breathe


To be freed from all the subtle and traumatic wars 


I once had to endure 


As I sought a means to quell all those tragic sensations and vivid recollections


Which must be cured


For I know now 

Deep down 


All those sad things needed to run their course 


As I sit in here


In the Grey Hall in The Great In-Between  


Tapping my feet like the approach of Tanaka


The Tall Man's mythical black horse


Listening to the bustling swirling wind as it blows over yonder 

As I ponder 



About all the why's and what for's


The memes and themes of all that depressing pain that eventually followed


Each time that I once delicately swallowed 


Delicious mouthfuls of memories tablets


Things will never be the same and I take my hat off


To all those who suffer getting it wet as they wear their hearts on their sleeves 


Like a rare electromagnet


It's just a crazy concept and one I can never believe or grow to accept


For inside now I'm without you


I'll just wander in solitude


Living on my own and some nights when I'm sat alone 


Sipping something dark and so fulfilling 


Thinking about the last time I saw your beautiful face and we rolled around playfully


Wrapped up together we thought forever 


Until illness came and called you home


And it's why even in these lower levels of The Astral Halls


I'll forever just grieve as your beloved name I still call


For I once played and sung heart filled symphonies


To all the watching angels

In the hot summer sun


Smiled and loved a strange woman who I never met but slowly got to know


As my life picked up pace and started to run


Roared when she died and cried when my higher self soared in anguish 


When God came and whispered on the 15th of June last year


In our bedroom of 54 years


Genevieve

Its time to leave


But we're being reunited and new horizons beckon


After I too crossed over


And good old Archangel Michael said she's regained her memories and she now wants to see me


New people and newer places


Faces filled with a new form of adulation 


So look after yourself and thanks for listening as I go to grant my beloved 


Her beautiful last wish


Happiness always finds a way even in death



Genevieve and The Night Raven


Soon to be together again


To walk hand in hand


To Eternity in this neverending falling rain 


Copyright John Duffy

Wednesday, March 30, 2022

The Succubus

Press play before you read. Salute.

**The Succubus**0

(A lone voice whispers)


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 and
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 think 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 be scared or to run or go


Her raven-coloured hair
And seductive dark eyes
Whispered


Of deep and guilty
Pleasures and luscious wild places


I must be bold and audacious 


To be invited to visit


My inner thoughts sang out proudly like a seductive Barry White


Late that night 


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
Almira


Welcomes you


Trace your fingertips
Across her crimson
Red lips


If they taste sweet
Your soul 


She will tame and slowly claim 

As I 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 as instructed


The contours of her
Luscious red lips


As I did so


Her warm mouth suddenly
Engulfed my shaking fingertips 


knuckle-deep as she gyrated 


So sensuously in
Her deep sleep


Feeling braver 

I ran my other shaking hand
Across her soft silky skin


And she responded by
Moaning


Like she demanded and needed more than 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


Making me wonder


What would happen next
In this 


My all-time favourite lucid deep dream


At that very moment
She suddenly rose

I felt a chill in the pit of my bones


For her body emanated such sweet-smelling pheromones


I felt empowered to reach out and replace my fingertips 


With my hungry dark lips 


And when I wrapped my
strong hands around
Her so very soft hips


Strange Mediterranean-type music suddenly started playing as she whispered this


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 in all your unspoken prayers


Sit me on that black leather chair and kneel before me 


And eat all you need
Before I feed


And only then


After that holy moment of our souls merging 


Can we no longer
Pretend


For this 
Secret White Room


Is my lair


My White Castle floating between here and everywhere 


In this electric-filled air


Just renounced to all others right now but you


And hidden in the many folds of time


Where you can always return 


So I can feed and you can satisfy your soul's dark desires and needs


A place where I can claim you


Again and again
As just mine


Then she sat back into that 
Black leather chair


And before I took my place
I can always remember


In that silent transmutation of sexual dark energy 


In that very pivotal moment
I knew then


What all starstruck lovers 


Regardless of gender age or creed


All silently unconsciously feel


Once your tongue is allowed entrance


Into loves delicious tasting fountain


Once you've had a 
Sweet luscious taste


A drop of its heavenly
Ambrosia


Your life with any other 


Will just seem to turn into dark strands of emotional dust and seem to diminish 


To slowly blow in the uncaring four winds and eventually go to waste


It's why I always try to return to this white Room 


For she now holds total dominion over me in it


And after praying for sleep as the nighttime clocks 


Scattered all over the house, I keep


Approaches twelve
 

I just pray I dream to see her once more


To see her standing naked over me


The Goddess I now worship and pray to see 


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 deep sleep


Before I begin to kneel 


To satisfy and try to pacify all her dark desires


And unspoken needs 


In that secret White Room


I realize deep down


What all her other slaves know and hide from all others


But in silent moments alone think 


As their soul shrinks as it gets weak 


She now has power
Total power 


Total power over me 
As she feeds

Copyright John Duffy

A dash of sensuous dark energy on a windy cold night, in the low hours, in the UK. Salute.




Tuesday, March 29, 2022

Whispers in Enochian

(A lone old voice whispers)

Press play before reading. Salute.



As I look out from in here 


In the never-ending falling rain via my new keeper's black scrying mirror


Isabel asked me what I would say to the world


Are you ready


Well sometimes you've just got to be rebellious enough 


To say goodbye to the old ways 


And try to heal raw opened emotional sores 


So you can then look to life 


To try to give you more


It may feel like you've been through all the worlds 


Many brutal wars 


But nobody's perfect and everybody 


I mean everybody 


Has their depressing scars and sometimes unspoken flaws


Some may just cleverly choose to hide it so well and smile 


And try to put on a favourite well-loved mask


And some don't 


Some may say strange things in tempestuous moments of heat 


As they sharpen their ferocious claws


And some may say nothing at all


But just think 


Aren't people just human


Even though they might try to stand tall


Misfits born into the grandest of schemes


Wandering around like lost little children 


After they've been given a new life's temporary spiritual work permit 


But you know 


I've already lived five times in 6 hundred years 


Lived

Loved and cried so many wet tears


Sacrificed my time each time I died and ate platefuls of fear


And now I'm soon to be reinstated for the seventh


Here's what I know as I wait to return for a short stint 


Before I go back to my rightful place in Heaven 


Life and all its emotional connections 


Are simply explained in just one line of fate-driven poetry 


Which is written in golden bold italics in God's eternal archives


If you know where to look to find it


Want to know what it is before I disappear forever 


It simply says in Enochian


The language of Angels


Gnay de boaluahe life


Try to love life



Copyright John Duffy 


Christo comes through

 (A lone voice whispers)



Nobody knows me but I


A secret self I tried to hide from all


Until I died


For I was like the rarest of diamond


Found in a lifetime of searching


Only in the roughest of the rough


The unquenchable thirst 


Who was never sated and never knew 


Or embraced that word many submissively surrender to


Called Enough


I was born unbreakable in the darkness 


After two


On Christmas Eve 

In 1952


My mother said when she first saw me and really embraced her firstborn 


That my chestnut eyes seemed to whisper 


I see you too 

When she looked on


Such a gifted child to be constantly drawn to others with a similar light


She prophesied 


Leaving me a love letter from mother to son


Which amongst other lines simply said 


Chase happiness son as the world still turns and your candle still burns



Is that why you return as do I 


Here every night


Did you 

When I first met you by a little rock 



See something shimmering that sparkled and shone like a diamond 


As it tried to hide

Camouflaged


Like a hunter on a quest on a deserted island 


You see I need no remits

Or permits to breakthrough 


For my silver scrying mirror


The one given to me by Houdini who lives in here


Helps me escape to see you


For life 

As I look back was so cruel


Like fighting a one-sided duel within tragic ever-changing rules


Especially like when I set sail 


And just like RMS Titanic racing to her doom


Painted by Tatiana Yamshanova


Memories that still haunt me


Even in this very moment 


In this lonely room like a neverending hangover


My ship

The Fatal Maidens Kiss


 

Sank and if you're reading this


Just know I'll always carry your red balloon and crave a smell 


Once again


Of your Chanel No. 5 perfume


And that particular taste of that magical binding potion


We once as innocent strangers drank


When my first words introduced me


And from that day we first met 


Like two ships passing in the night


My beloved mother's last few lines 

She left for me to read in her will


Still echo


As I feel each line of everything she once said 


Especially the last line

When simply read



Chase happiness son

For it doesn't come too easily to the dead



Copyright John Duffy


Sunday, March 27, 2022

The Tall Man, Approaches.

 A series of photos capturing my last days of being 40 before I turn 50?

How do I look?

All unedited of course. 🙌









Dreams of Mia


 (A lone voice whispers)

Press play before reading. Salute.



Out of the great ruins at Telos 

By the surging Red Sea



I stepped out 

Driven



And started suddenly walking to a new Galilee



Such was the magnetic pull

Of something deep inside me 



That was been recalled to its Way Station

By the pull of its own Papal Cross 



A cross I couldn't see



Hiding and carefully creeping past all the baying tortured hordes

Running amok 



Destroying cars and houses and burning down trees

Who called themselves The NightBreed



Eventually after a hard 5 hours

I came to Imagarta



The abandoned lands of the Hellraisers

Who love telling The Gathered Foolish lost souls



Around their horse-driven caravans 

Parked in huge burning circles



Illuminated by  torchlight 

Stories about their master

The Insidious Mister Mephistopheles



A dark thing that'll make all your dreams seem to come so true 



You'll never want to leave but instead, cause you to grieve 



And you'll soon join their tribe and learn

Lifes filled with strange things 



Beings and stranger people

So complex 



That's why it comes fresh with no rehearsals



Past them all, I slowly crept

Ignoring the sweet-smelling temptations of soul and heaving sweaty flesh



Towards to the green flickering light 

Above the doorway



That stood on the edges of Existences Beach



Which lay in the distance

Within a landscape covered in empty beer cans and litter



To reach The Great and Secret Show

Where all things are said to glitter 



A place that some say

Lays beyond the Portal to the Blue Mountains in the deep snow



Where something called to and pulled my soul as it whispered and wept



A place I kept seeing in the most vivid of magical visions



I let in freely with no signs of resistance 



Images that whispered they will be my last illusions



If I made the right decisions



If I chose to bravely walk the Bleeding Pathways close to the Infernal Parade



In absolute midnight



As I played the hero on my own bequeathed quest 



My soul's own crusade 

And stepped into a new heart-stopping realm called Cold Heart Canyon



A light and dark place



Where long days and nights are filled with hypnotic incense and mesmerising magic



Where tragic sonnets and operas about those who sold out


And now living in big mansions

Are sung aloud

Filling each room with songs about


Revelations 

Damnation  

Happiness and Sadness


Hymns sung by the Red and Black dressed Cabal 



Like they are blessed, scarlet gospel singers 



Who once entertained Great Men of Renown



Now buried in secret tombs

Deeply hidden underground in Cape Town 



All this 

Just to meet her

The mirage in the desert sands



The shimmering light waiting by my Papal Cross

The one who summoned my soul


One day when I woke

Lost and alone in Telos


Mia


The goddess in a vision 


I once saw in a dream in a supernatural country called Minatilos



Copyright John Duffy


A piece in tribute in part, to one of the great authors. Clive Barker. The King of creating visual tapestries.


Friday, March 25, 2022

The Mistress of the Voices of the Dead

 (A lone voice whispers)

Press play before reading. Salute.



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 and waylaid


By a conjured blind colporteur


Will you grasp Poe Ravenscroft Marmosetts


Shadowy hand to then suddenly hear the summoning anthem


Proudly 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 


With horse and carriages following her in straight lines


Stacked high with new black and white suits of 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 


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 emotional hand 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 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 new white candle and a two-sided blade


And return with her to go to war forever


Near my unseen home in all weathers 


A new soldier in an invisible army of the betrayed


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


For no known velleity can save you now


So 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


Wednesday, March 23, 2022

A lady called Jane Fonda

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Press play before reading. Salute.



Did you know I once lived in a vivid lucid dream 



When I finally surrendered to Morpheus the Greek



And embraced his many magical empires 



Which appear when you finally fall asleep



It all started last November 



Where I met a stunning lady called Jenny Cirellow


Who I'm sure that Morpheus the Greek sent her



All dressed in lovely yellow 

Who loved prose like a treasured poet who nobody knows



She appeared from The Blue Ether 



If I pause to remember



So stunning and dressed from head to toe in bright gold



Walking on a river of silver that ran beneath her 



A memory I'll always carry until I grow old



She said her real spiritual name was a mixture of Jenny Cirellow and Jane Fonda 



And she was known all over in The Blue Ether



Worldwide



From The Great In-Between to Tijuana



And so she became my new and only holy Madonna 



That beautiful poet I came to call 


Jenny Cirellow or Jane Fonda



We talked and smiled for many a night



Lost in the fluctuating portals in The Great In-Between



But like all psychodrama's and unsaid karma



Green-eyed folk kept squeezing us hard like an anaconda



And so she left me singing a version of Black Magic Women



Like the one sung by someone in a rock band



A guitar player called Carlos Santana



As I stood standing alone by the river of silver


By the Blue Portal


That once ran beneath her 



Before she just smiled and disappeared 


Right back into the now Bright Blue Ether


(A soft voice sings)


Once had me a beautiful strong woman



A real strong superwoman



Once had me a real supernatural strong superwoman



Got me so fired up I could hardly breathe 



We walked talked and lived together



Lost in a yellow filled lucid dream


One I prayed I would never leave



For I once had me a beautiful strong woman



A real strong woman with so much in common



Tryin' to kick the bad human out of me



So wherever you are



Jane Fonda or Jenny Cirellow



The stunning woman who I once met in The Blue Ether



Dressed from head to toe in lovely yellow 


 

Just return from The Great In-Between 


To stand

Once again beside me



On this river of silver 

That now runs underneath me



And let's be friends 

Just you and me



Let's be friends 

Just you and me



Friends for all to see until the very end



For I once had me a real strong woman



A real strong superwoman



Once had me a real supernatural woman


Called Jane Fonda or Jenny Cirellow



Who I dreamed was pure and thought would never run



But that was premature 



And now I just hope she returns

Before everything burns 




Copyright John Duffy


(All images shared under fair usage policy)

Tuesday, March 22, 2022

The Story of Texas Pete

 

Press play and let the music wash over you as you read.

Salute.


(A lone voice whispers)


I was once addicted to a beautiful stranger 


Unknowingly using them like cheap cocaine

 

But as I look back on my life after my last confession 


After speaking to Father Poe


I now know

 

That when I got down on my tired old knees


Before the rusty cross 


My beloved grandfather made in our back garden


On Christmas Day in 2008 


During the last Great Recession


To pray in the falling rain

For salvation 

 

I know now I fought the devil for freedom that fateful night 


At midnight 

 

After wearing his X proudly for year's


Like the Mark of Cain



I've sacrificed all my precious time



Crucified my family and friends


For my only lover 


Who I thought would last until the very end 


A stranger who suddenly appeared when I was weak 


With sweet answers to everything and anything


You could seek or name



And even though now I’m free


I still wear loneliness golden chains

 

Like just another of the cursed


From the Brotherhood of the Profane



For that's how the Tall Man


Designed me

 

So my therapist told me

 

Broken 

Fractured and to be endlessly consumed


With vivid surging memories of bloodstained mental campaigns


Baptised to ride the inhumane storms of life


On a wooden ship called Hardship


And to grow and sink nightly in its many hurricanes


But now

I'm no longer a stranger to pain


And as I age



I still just use it like cheap cocaine

 

Walking bravely alone

In the falling rain

 

Knowing the Devil knows my name


And that’s why he leaves me alone

 

For he remembers our battles


At midnight 


In my grandpa's backyard 

 

When I once played his games

 


I’m glad God won though

For it’s him


I now travel to see



As I ride this life



Seated content with strangers


On one of his many slow-moving trains

 


High on all my pain

My old memories

 

Which I’m still addicted too


Like when I held hands with my old friend

 

Mother Cocaine

 

I can safely say this good old reborn Christian boys coming home


I just hope my Mary Jane is waiting for me


And when I get off that last stop

And finally arrive


She lets me explain 


By singing her a holy love song 


About my fight at midnight 



With the God of Cocaine



In my grandpa's backyard

When I was alive



 

 

 

Copyright John Duffy

 


Saturday, March 19, 2022

The Song of Solomon


(A lone regal voice sings)


Press play before reading. Salute.



By the deep glow of your inner light



Which is always lit



Strengthened tenfold by the silver rays of Mother Moon



I pray your second sight shows you  


Hidden agendas and real intentions 


So soon



For you to see beyond their enchanting songs and sweetly sung hymns



Which they use to lead you



Knee deep into sin



So you can know what's right



For you're the genuine courage 



You've always looked for in the destructive dark 



The sovereign being 

You crave to be



Walking down Freedoms Pathways



For all to see



To a new form of happiness and self-liberation



And the one love 


You crave for in your hearts of heart



That maybe life has torn apart



Acquiesce

Acquiesce


And awaken

My friend 



Acquiesce 

Acquiesce


And awaken 

My friend


And say yes to the gift of second sight



To rise


To rise high



To avoid those dark souls.


That through the darkness cry



Trying to influence your life with their seductive 



Trojan Horses 



Sweet songs and hybrid hymns



Trying to lead you 

Knee-deep into sin


Acquiesce

Acquiesce


And awaken

My friend 



Acquiesce 

Acquiesce


And awaken 

My friend


And say yes 

To the gift of second sight



To rise


Rise high



To avoid those dark souls



Trying to influence your life 


With their seductive 

Trojan Horses 


Sweet songs and hybrid hymns



Trying to lead you 

Knee-deep into sin


To your end



Acquiesce

Acquiesce


And awaken

My friend 



Acquiesce 

Acquiesce


My friend and rise

No longer to cry


While time flies


Acquiesce


Copy and John Duffy 



Friday, March 18, 2022

The Angels Tale

  A lone voice whispers


The invisible Angel smiled at the rows of sorrowful patients


Which lay before it on ward twenty-one of Saint Peters hospital 


In New Brunswick

New Jersey 


As it then looked at just one particular sorry soul whose body was now broken and bent


For it was why he was summoned by heartfelt prayers 


Whispered to be heard for it to be dutifully sent


The smile it carried wasn't a smile of ill judgement 


Or dismay but of immense hope 


To change the sad vibrations at play


For it knew the recently diagnosed patient would find the tenacity and strength to eventually cope


For they all do 


It's a silent degree

A line spoken by the Almighty 


Which all things follow if they believe whatever it says


All they have to do is call for them and pray


To summon angels from The Great  In-Between


The bringers of such priceless envelopes to soothe the soul


The invisible folk


Who'll follow like betrothed guardian philanthropists


Just huddled together


Sleeping in the shade of the Great In-Between trees


The Eternal Water Oaks


Waiting for psychic calls to spring into action


Flying into the lonely caressing arms of the swirling grey mists


Which moved and flowed all around 


Like it had a phenomenal supernatural intelligence 


Hiding those sleeping in the grey smoke 


By The Great Grey Oaks by its smoke which it uses to cloak


Copyright John Duffy

Thursday, March 17, 2022

Chanelling Plato

(A lone voice whispers)


Are you feeling low and haunted by a sense of something malevolent 



Following you like a second shadow 



Everywhere you go 



You could be so beautiful



You know



Inside and out 



If only you could be courageous enough to accept who you really are 



And shake off those so familiar feelings of despair



That seems to follow you everywhere



But are you brave enough to change



Family 

Friends

Lovers

Or even work



For to grow into the real you



To shine your inner light



To all within sight beyond fear



Judgment or condemnation 



Has always been one of the Universal Unspoken Laws



And that statute my friend with the curious eyes


Can help to dispel all those inflicted flaws



Reading these words in 2022 


In the early morning sunlight


Afternoon

Dusk or just past midnight



That old universal law is still totally irrefutable



But are you ready to understand and grasp it



For God gave you an inner light and it wasn't made to be irreducible


But simply to help guide you through all those long lonely nights


To help discover the real you


Copyright John Duffy 

Friday, March 11, 2022

The Poetic Tale of Mr Ebony

A lone voice whispers



 Mr Ebony approaches my secret libraries shadows 



Of lost memories



Which follow me around 



In the form of Charlie Chaplin



Carrying a battered old brown suitcase 



Covered in Do Not Open stickers



Stuck on its worn-out aged face 



Always behind me



Treading into the soft sands of my histories far-stretching shores



I leave invisible to the human eyes



Everywhere I go



Pale are the grieving trails



I leave



Filled with tree branches 



Where once beautiful memories


Now filled with grieving and hung like dazzling decorations



On Christmas Eve 



That reminds me

Painfully of years 



Mesmerised in the Misplaced City of Love and Trust 



A wondrous place



Where tender blue waves caressed the ocean before turning into ethereal dust



Where Mother Sea French kissed each citizen 



Like long lost lovers


  

How pure that time and sound was loved by me



Laid watching the diverse tapestries filled with moving clouds



By the sea



Visions of her hand holding mine

With her head on my shoulder



Telling me 

She'll love me forever


As Father Time got slowly older



But those once happy days are now so long gone



For Ebony approaches my shadows 



My priceless library 



Armed with his memory stealing Amnesia Gun



Hunting for long lost memories



Which dress like Charlie Chaplin



Always seeking battered old suitcases



To add to his endless collection 



He's pulled from so many silent screen faces




To then rip them open 



To then tread into the soft sands of their histories far-stretching shores



Once left invisible to human eyes



To wander through the path of the Pale Grieving Trails


And take broken hearts most expensive treasures


Once hung beautiful memories on delicate branches



Like dazzling decorations

On Christmas Eve 



That reminds him

Painfully of years 



He too spent


Mesmerised in the Misplaced City of Love and Trust


But now doomed to forever stalk and grieve 


Before he too dissolves

And is absorbed by the Universe


Just to be another form of brown rust


Swirling in its ever-shifting dust



Copyright John Duffy


(Image shared with fair use policy) 

Tuesday, March 8, 2022

Yavi. The Romantic. Speaks.

 


(A lone voice whispers)



Like a red rose 



I always climb high to the reach brightest of lights



Surging in all directions

Such is the driving thirst 



Searching in complete expectation 

In harsh conflicts and dangerous lands



Conquering each

Whatever comes first



I try to climb past all the watching marching bands

Stood in their many well-dressed lines



And like the red rose



I also grow in silence

Like the so very righteous 



Only finally announcing my inner beauty to those worthy



Of my time

Trust and loyalty



And finally like one of those rare and precious 

Virginal Red Roses of Cairo 



One of the most beautiful standard-bearers of all known flowers



I also have exquisite sensuous needs that must be deliciously deflowered 



So are you willing to stand in the pale moonlight



And let my thorns gently caress your inner third eye



As your soul salivates quietly and cries 

For a new form of seduction 



As we hand in hand 

Go to war



Challenging the world like it was a Francis Ford Coppola

Production



Copyright John Duffy 


Monday, March 7, 2022

The Mysterious Well

 


(A lone voice whispers)



There's a grand old well that I sometimes visit 



In strange lucid dreams



When Mother Midnight sweetly calls



My lonely soul out to play



With her golden diamond-encrusted whistle


For she is so uncivil



And all the silver stars gleam 



In hungry anticipation 



I always see the walls of the well 



As they seem to be crumbling away but never do 



All dull and painfully grey



As it sits like a tired old King 



On a tattered throne 

Made of brown leaves



Which surround him 

Like a sea of grinning thieves



Climbing like former lovers across its form



Wild Morning-Glory sleeps like a tired old soldier 


Surveying the corn



Watching Creeping Charlie advancing 



With a little shimmer and dance



When I walk the path of the One



To that well on the edges of time



When the moon is hiding and clouds look on 



Like drunken fools



When silence fills the very air



The dire aroma of loss and decay invariably arises



Once lost things always appear 



In all shapes and different sizes



Like a visiting country fair 



But nothing stirs in the cornfield before me


For nothing ever dares



And when I reach the mighty King on the Hill



The ruler of all 

Before I swallow my own red pill



And look into his gaping soul



All I can see is my heart's own watering hole



A darken wet place filled with now unwanted memories



I'm always drawn to



When my higher self loses its self-control



On its wet surface 

Lay old photographs



Undulating and floating images of


People 

Places

Chances and

Moments 



All moving in unison

In perpetual silence



As I watch and stare



A red and yellow flame eternally appears and they all burn 



Forming a sensational burning red heart



A stunning piece of spiritual art



And as I leave

Grieving 



Deep down inside



Walking lonely 

Like a soldier to a cold unwarranted post



Back to the shimmering Blue Portal



Waiting quietly to return me to the land of the living



Away from all these creeping bold ghosts



My mystical doorway home


So I can reflect and maybe atone




The King of the Hill always seems to whisper before I disappear 



Will you learn this time or will more memories



Need to go past the point of no return 



Before God blows


Calling you home

On his beautiful French golden Horn.......

                  .........

                              .....



Copyright John Duffy



From Grief to Love. To Life.