. Poetry from The Great In-Between: The tale of the Wandering Rose

Saturday, September 23, 2023

The tale of the Wandering Rose

 



(A lone voice whispers)


Remembering every single incredible memory  


Of my old lover's name 

Before the sun rises

Around the clock


I think is driving me slowly insane 

As the night sky seems to smile 

As it closes in


Each delicate syllable and dulcet tone


Rings and sends out such a resounding cacophony 

And vibration of such a Trinity of Sin


Like a holy golden summoning bell

Been slowly rung


Emanating a frequency filled with Happiness  

Togetherness  

And Divinity 


Tainted by visions

Lost in throes of bedroom depravity


As it spins around in that sacred kaleidoscope 

Within my mind  


Memories of smiles and kindness  

Laying together talking for hours  

Lost in a mysterious stillness


About life  

The universe and all things in between 

Holding hands in the darkness


Before all the cruel and unkind things in life 

Came crashing in


Like Zeus's thunder and put out our beloved flame 

Which we foolishly thought would be lit forever  

  

So now I'm on this broken path 

That I'm doomed to walk 

To purge my soul of this madness


Trying to forget her

Since her soul left us


Old Henry and me

The best old hound dog to sit

With


Writing poetry


So Ma and Pa


I'm taking Old Henry and leaving this letter

Driving South


Heading somewhere

I'm pulled blindly to 


A lonely secret location 

After my own version of The Titanomachy


Towards a place deep in the Appalachian Mountain

I've seen in prophetic visions


A spot inside the darkest of unvisited woods


A place I known 

From Dreamland


A place known as 

The Land of the Black Crows in the deepest of Shadows


Where Old Gods of pagan mythology and weary Elementals gather to watch  


Unknown actors dressed in sharkskin  

Perform a twisted version of Dantes's Divine Comedy

Accompanied by a lone violin 


A path known only to other poor kindred souls  


When they're unconsciously invited by a strange magnetic pull


To The Land of the Black Crows in the deepest of Shadows

To watch strange sideshows to help dissolve their pain


After being spiritually wounded by one of Eros's many bows  


Until nothing remains


Before they too pull on the Eternal Sharkskin suit


And take center stage as all the other broken 

Stand from their seats and welcome Old Henry and me


Into their secret house of ill repute


A place where when painful emotions suddenly appear


They are shared and passed around

To be consumed 

Like a strange-tasting forbidden fruit


By new friends

Who use its energies to welcome new followers 


Who brave enough to take up the call and commute


(C) Copyright John Duffy 


Image shared under fair usage policy. 

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