The God of Sleep Speaks

    

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

Are you 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 on 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 that time

Would it drive you right out of your mind

Well, here's my answers 

Just for you to read before you 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 my chance to find a means 

To atone

Sacrificed deserted lonely souls 

Who stumble and end up my way

Through random long or short legions of linear poetry

And like a drunken James Brown

I gather them around 

To listen what my words mean 

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 

Lyrically 

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 

With this plane of existence many addictive potions

But the secret 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 

Sing or just to express yourself to be free

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image source: Pinterest.