The Monologue of David

 Press Play.

(A lone voice whispers)

Although 

The Divine Pacatari

Took me tragically over the precarious edge 

Of the final dark mountain

To cross the Silver Bridge 

To witness Heaven's illustrious 

Beautiful fountains

While Star Child Orion

Watched in such profound sadness

From so far away

Riding the endless night sky

So high

With the sacred White Universal Mare 

Rode by Uriel 

Watching

In the Celestial Garden

As I look up in this thin fading air and patiently stare

Into the deep colours revolving like spinning tops in this abyss 

I know and pray 

We will be reunited in another lifetime

On another glorious day

To sparkle in such bliss 

Like a rare pair of twinkling diamonds

To prance and dance 

So close together

Like the tiny particles found in red wine

In the Holy Silver Communion Cup 

For even though fire and ice

Death and sometimes the misery of time

Will try to destroy our love

These feelings

Will never stop

For ours was just a brief rehearsal

In this lifetime 

Not a farewell from The Eternal Circle

For our love story will live on

Forever

In a place beyond worlds

In quantum realms 

Places unseen

And when you awaken in the half-light of lucid dreams

In the deep Realms of Sleep

I shall return 

In my only wedding suit

For nothing is truly lost

And even though love has a high price

We will walk 

Together again

Hand in hand 

So soon

One night

The cost of our reunion

Will be our secret reminder

A unique revelation

In the pristine Harvest Moon

For we are all but just

Golden leaves

Spice 

Blown by ravenous thunder 

In God's never-ending Monsoon

For I now know

No one weeps

When reunited in the Labyrinth of Sleep

To be remarried

In The Great In-Between

For living a mortal life

Is just the start of a new honeymoon 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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The Dream Bringer. The Monologue of Morpheus the Greek.

Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)

I watch unseen

From The Great In-Between 

Carrying your heart's dreams

In my brown and blue suitcase 

Filled to the seam

And when the daylight sun lays to rest and the night stars

Look down for souls to mark and Illuminate, ready to confess 

I appear sparkling like rare diamonds through a purple portal in time and space

To open my brown and blue suitcase 

And quietly whisper

Mortal

Take these dreams as yours

As you run your race

Fear not failure 

Or feelings of disgrace

Which might take you 

To a hard place 

But revel in the freedom 

My dreams will bring

Be them good

Or filled with sin

For either way, 

They'll help your soul 

Sing

And with a transmutation spell

I then disappear 

Back to The Great In-Between 

To watch the night stars

Looking down for souls ready to be marked and illuminated

As they plead to confess 

So I can then appear

To help those 

Who might feel low

Or oppressed

Rise up with all they possess 

As my dreams

In their tired minds

Slowly unravel and take off their dress

So they can never be by Darkness 

Tethered and 

Conquered

For I'm just one

Of the universes many good shepherds

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

The Prophet Of Dumaz Speaks

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Hey you

You do realize 

You picked this life 

Before you were born

All the people you've met

Loved 

Hated

Family

Friends

Lovers

Situations

Hardships

Encountered

In whatever nation

When you signed your soul's timeline

Up high

Somewhere

In the Deep Divine

It may be a strange thing 

Knowing this

But consoling

All the same 

In a bizarre way

Souls

Some say

Need to face 

Trials and tribulations 

To soar higher

To be refined

So maybe

What you're presently 

Going through

Is a journey of love or pain

You

Yes

You

Have already planned

To go through 

Again

So view challenges 

In a new way

Don't be daunted 

Scared or swayed 

Face them with courage

And fortitude 

For to not do so

This time around

Would be rude

Or you could just crumble

And turn to dust

Only to ask 

For the same experience 

Again 

With your soul

Entombed in a new husk

So trust your instincts

And I hope and pray

This got you thinking 

That all you're enduring 

You've asked for

Even knowing me 

Via this poetic review

To remind you

Keep going

You still have

So much to do 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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Confessionalism of The Soothsayer

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Am I cursed like poor Orpheus

The son of Apollo

To just wander through life

Wasting my time

Cursed by the Three Crones 

To now write rhymes 

For just you

Who I silently 

Follow

Writing about love and sorrow

Whilst hid in my hollow

 For only

Two invisible pennies

 Or dimes

 Because my Goddess 

 Divine has called

 In all my sins

To be tormented in every way 

Like Orpheus by the Maenads 

To play

With this as punishment 

For all my eternal crimes

 Every night

 Or at the break of morning 

I'm now doomed

To write

Sometimes 

In darkness 

Sometimes in light

Writing for my soul

For my freedom 

To really see

Unlocking old mysteries

Hidden deep within me 

To take back control

Using secretive newly found keys 

To mysterious occult doors

To traverse through 

Strange literature about inner kingdoms 

As I now speak to you

The silent viewers

Hiding cleverly amongst life's many moors

Hidden in the vastness of The Universe or simply forgotten kin

Or quiet fallen watchers 

Parading silently

Through my paradigms of words or simply perusing 

In my inspired biosphere 

Am I but one of the many cursed 

Maybe like you 

Too

 To walk at the front like a brave foot soldier or simply following

Like a loyal Bannerman 

Coerced beyond belief 

To seek continuous relief

Is that why I 

Perhaps like you 

Always now write

For sleep doesn't come easy to us two

Walking these precarious tightropes

At midnight

Filled with such unknown delicious and sometimes devilish mysteries 

 Now cast me

 My two invisible pennies 

 Or dimes

By reading on with those eager eyes 

As I serve my penance 

For all my own earthly crimes 

Urging you to absorb all my otherworldly experiences while you read

With unrestrained greed

For know

 All our mistakes and crimes 

Are to be judged by our own

Head Watchman 

Our own judge and jury

When it's our time

No matter what you've got 

Or where you go 

And it’s why I now saunter through life

Perpetually seeking salvation to be un- dammed

Spreading inspiration through through words

Painting tapestries created within carefully selected adjectives and verbs

Before I meet the primordial and eternal king and prepare to be judged as I pray and hold my nerve 

In the apex of the all the universe 

Where used up stars fall like molten snow as golden bells sing a soft melody 

Who the faint whispers tell me is called the Tall Man 

The ruler of all 

Who are tainted to live within realms of neverending jeopardy

Copyright John Duffy

Confessionalism of The Soothsayer

(A lone voice whispers)

Am I cursed like poor Orpheus

The son of Apollo

To just wander through life

Wasting my time

 

Cursed by the Three Crones 

To now write rhymes 

For just you

Who I silently 

Follow

Writing about love and sorrow

Whilst hid in my hollow

 

 For only

Two invisible pennies

 Or dimes

 Because my Goddess 

 Divine has called

 In all my sins

To be tormented in every way 

Like Orpheus by the Maenads 

To play

 With this as punishment 

 For all my eternal crimes

 Every night

 Or at the break of morning 

I'm now doomed

To write

 

 Sometimes 

 In darkness 

 Sometimes in light

 

 Writing for my soul

 

 For my freedom 

 To really see

 

Unlocking old mysteries

Hidden deep within me 

To take back control

Using secretive newly found keys 

To mysterious occult doors

 

To traverse through 

Strange literature about inner kingdoms 

As I now speak to you

The silent viewers

Hiding cleverly amongst life's many moors

 Hidden in the vastness of 

 The Universe or

 Simply forgotten kin

 Or quiet fallen watchers 

 Parading silently

 Through my paradigms of words or simply perusing 

 In my inspired biosphere 

 Am I but one of the many cursed 

Maybe like you 

Too

 To walk at the front like a brave foot soldier or simply following

Like a loyal Bannerman 

Coerced beyond belief 

To seek continuous relief

 

Is that why I 

Perhaps like you 

Always now write

For sleep doesn't come easy to us two

Walking these precarious tightropes

At midnight

 

Filled with such unknown delicious and sometimes devilish 

Mysteries 

 Now cast me

 My two invisible pennies 

 Or dimes

By reading on with those eager eyes 

 

 As I serve my penance 

For all my own earthly crimes 

Urging you to absorb all my otherworldly experiences while you read

With unrestrained greed

 

For know

 All our mistakes and crimes 

Are to be judged by our own

Head Watchman 

 

Our own judge and jury

When it's our time

No matter what you've got 

Or where you go 

And it’s why I now saunter through life

Perpetually seeking salvation to be un- dammed

Spreading inspiration through through words

Painting tapestries created within carefully selected adjectives and verbs

Before I meet primordial and eternal king

In the apex of the all the universe 

Where used up stars fall like molten snow as his golden bells sing a soft melody 

As it's eyes glows

Who the faint whispers tell me

Is called the Tall Man 

The ruler of all who are tainted to live within realms of jeopardy

Copyright John Duffy 

Memories

Press play.

Memories 

In the silence of it

Does it still make you smile

If so 

Treasure it

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

The Invitation

 

I rather like creating supernatural pieces, littered with light and dark references.

I just have a strange ethereal kaleidoscope, I use to describe emotional driven poetic short stories. 

Are the stories just whispering voices in the darkness from the Great In-Between?

Are they reflective in nature? 

I suppose it's just a reflection of how I see humanity shaped. 

We each have our own individual styles. 

Mine are all poetic monologues in essence.

For to know and treasure the light of happiness when it comes, we need to have drunk a sip from darkness hot liquor.

To then stand tall in front of all. 

Without a flicker and accept Loves Invitation 

Whenever it's presented! 

Salute. 

Title:

The Invitation. 

Let me in

I whisper in the darkness.

Across deep blue oceans and rocky yellow sandy shores

To warm you my new love

For I am so hot

Let my whispered dark spells

Carried by grey smoke in the gushing four winds

Reach those once frozen tears

Falling from those beautiful eyes and reach deep into your lonely heart.

Feel its red flame

Crimson

As it engulfs you with total ease

Hot to the touch like fire

So addictive and seductively consuming

But beware

When it touches humans

Some are forever emotionally 

Ruined

Like a rare expensive bottle of red wine

Bestowed from the dark places unvisited 

Let me melt those cold glaciers that surround you with soul-warming fires

Burning and spinning within my endless dark eyes

Feel the heat from my hands on your chest

The breath of my mouth

Tasting each word as your soul opens up 

Its dark doors and pleads to confess

No more to wait

But to climb my red ladder out of the darkness of Naamah's 

Endless grey void

Before your beautiful soul is tainted and stands inline 

With so many others who make a mockery of emotions

Before they are destroyed 

No more to lie frozen under heartbroken spells

Conjured by dark shadows 

From leather-bound grimoires from the Lesser Key of Solomon

As you bathe in deep silence under a darkened purple-hued sky

Let that flame that once flickered so low but never really died

Those discarded old dreams which once laid forgotten in old days and lonely nights

Come back to life 

As I force back Damballa's darkness with my shining Astral knife

Are you kneeling naked and vulnerable in your red room

Awaiting my soft touch

Can I baptise you like Saint John the Baptist

To walk knee-deep into new seas of Galilee

Is that low spark of Longing

On fire in your centre

Your precious divine spiritual altar

Aflame and burning so bright

Are you ready to get drunk on this lascivious potion 

I always carry

Stolen from the encampments on the perilous mountains of Asmodeus

Called Mother Temptation 

Will you drink and feel the burn

To melt as all those old once hidden feelings 

Slowly return

Will you then sleep unfrozen as they creep in

Is it then you will ask me

In hushed soft whispers to take you under and whisper new red love spells

To listen as you then slowly confess 

As your soul no longer weeps 

Just say yes

And acquiesce

My new muse

I'll be that willing shoulder and ear to listen

As all your previous fears have a means to be expressed

As your eyes shine in a new half-light and begin to glisten

Copyright John Duffy

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The Moon Goddess. Dianna.

(A lone voice whispers)

Take this, 

These softly spoken words 

As the sacred keys to my Tower of Regeneration 

And as my high moon sets

Call to me with all your power

From any nation

And I'll help you conquer your abyss 

With a full life and a real love

Guided by my light 

At your side

To open your heart wide 

Replenished by the warmth of my belief, 

One of my greatest of gifts

For if you don't

My energy, and moonlight you will always miss

As you look back at me 

One lonely night

And reminisce 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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Renewal

Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)

Is this the final time for you and me

To part from visiting my white room
In the Great In-Between

For this morning I read
As God once said
In Isaiah 43:18-19

I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland


And I can faintly hear brass bands playing a sad tune in the distance

Via my automatic scrying machine

And a soft voice whispering
It's no use staying

She needs time to heal 

To restart and feel

So maybe
Another time around in this crazy circle

With no rehearsal
It may last

Even though our love is dead and buried

Maybe next time we can just find a way to continue to be true friends

Who makes each other
Gasp

To try to make it better than the last

So tonight I open up my old tired diary

And just write in big letters

Never forget
Your only love
Mary

The kind woman who once carried you
When life once got so heavy

(C) Copyright John Duffy

Musings

 “Is a just and true life — one stirred by love and escorted by experience?

Neither a love devoid of experience, but a realization of love and experience — can it help to produce a virtuous existence?” 

To know love – do we have to jump all in – swimming valiantly?

Thrashing feverishly around within its deep, mysterious pools of emotions?

To really feel the ecstasy, the highs, and lows?

Do we have to go up above and below?

Does the emotional roller coaster of a sublime bliss—catch you within its first soft, sensuous kiss?

Can the suddenly harsh voice of its sudden disdain, sometimes enduring such immeasurable pain — stop you from ever chasing it again?

What is a life without trying it?

Do you turn into the French Inquisition, and see transgressions everywhere,

So you don't get burnt?

Has love burnt a hole in your side?

A few I have known weep from its soft velvety touch, and only having enduring its rollercoaster once, seek it no more.

Do they not know — climbing back on board with a new passenger: might be the answer?

Love is the most complex enigma we will ever know in life, and as the saying goes, fall down seven times, stand up eight!

The average woman will kiss 15 men, enjoy two long-term relationships, and have her heartbroken twice before she meets, “The One”, a study reveals.  

Researchers found she will also suffer four disaster dates, and be stood up once, before she finally settles down with the man of her dreams.

Men, on the other hand, face being stood up twice, and will have six one-night stands before they meet their ideal partner.  

This figure could be coming down, though, because a separate study suggests that men are becoming less afraid of commitment.

The average young man is ready for a committed relationship from the age of 22, two years younger than ten years ago.

Have you fallen down seven 

But still get up eight?

Copyright John Duffy

Thanks for visiting. Salute.

 

Love Found

Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)

Under her hypnotic spell

Leaving me in new realms of emotions.

Where I now dwell

I walk steep hills

Day and night

Up and down 

In my mind

Walking past fast flowing rivers with carcasses of my previous experiences 

With demons from hell

To reach salvation and its soft green meadows of daffodils and crystal clear waters

Such is the power and magnanimity of being under love's spell and being a lone walker

Exploring and worshipping at a new altar

 

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

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Therapy

(A lone voice whispers)

Are Goodbyes like lone turtle-doves that fly

Like birds from your clouds of Singularity

Into wild winds

Of one day they're here

And one day they're gone

But you always cry inside

Silently

In somewhere so deep and quiet

Where beloved memories hide

When you remember the sweet moments of tranquility and sincerity 

Before that old love died on a new white cross of behaviour therapy 

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

Foundation of the piece.

Do memories last forever?

Good or bad.

The ending relates to:

Do those experiences change your behaviour patterns by learning from that particular experience?

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Is this one of the sins of the twenty-first century?

 Is this one of the sins of the twenty-first century,

increased tenfold by social media affecting relationships?

Have you been uncouth or met one of the uncouth?

(Adjective: lacking in good manners, refinement, or grace.) 

Title:

Infidelity

Well, I guess I'm uncouth

I lied 

And didn't tell them 

The truth 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

The Queen from Argento

 Press play.

Salute.

The Girl with the Dark Eyes

 Press play.

Salute.

The Sunday Voice

Foundation of the piece.

Do the Unrequited still seek love searching through social media for an old love?

Have you looked up old flames in secret?
 

(A lone voice whispers)

In this grey shade of semi-darkness

I've sat down by the IPFT and looked again down through time 

Past all the fast-moving images and those sad heartbreaking ones

Portraying illnesses 

Lit a white Dominion protection magic candle and pondered

Is she with another I just can't see

Someone else's older or younger brother

That soulmate who once professed and confessed 

She was only mine

Would she still love me beyond all she feared

If I could somehow suddenly appear

Would her sweet kisses taste the same as before 

When we first met and I told her my sacred name

As I stood at her front door

But would she forget me this time when she got home

Delete my old number on her phone

I know she's a siren 

Lord

A beautiful beacon

A light in the dark who all fall to their knees

Whenever she calls

Is that why I'm cursed by the green shards of Belazor 

In this grey shade of semi-darkness 

As I embrace my own form of holy crucifixion

Charged to look down through time forever 

And tasked by Malachi

To always light a white Dominion magic protection candle 

From the sacred box of self-introspection

And ponder

Is she with another that has my reflection 

Who looks like me

Someone else's younger or older brother 

Now I've died and can only use the IPFT

To see

Copyright John Duffy 

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Is this a description of love?

 

Need a prompt?

 Belief in yourself is so important.

If you could write a poem reflecting your reflection in a mirror.

What would you write?

It could be anything. Personality goes way beyond looks. My opinion of course.

Here's my take on a dash of fun for the restless minds, constantly poked by Calliope.

Some call me Ole Smoky 

For I'm 100% all natural

So damn deep 

It's supernatural 

So unique 

I'm unnatural 

For my aura and sense of humor 

Is so inflammable 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Dystopian Dreams

Foundation of the piece.

(Conjured from the Ether, of course)

I was at church recently and the priest said some interesting things, relating to life.

Namely, one of the biggest days of your life, when you're present but not there, is your wake.

What or who would you miss at that moment of self realisation?

(A lone voice whispers)

I still miss you

You know

And all those interesting places you used to take me

Like to Caesars Palace

After our wedding 

To watch boxing 

When the world was covered in snow

Malibu beach

On honeymoon 

Where in that hot shade

Out of sight 

Your soft lips 

Tasted my soul

As it preached

New sermons from your mouth

As your hand travelled south

All those tantalising things 

And so much more

But since I left

When God opened that heavenly door

I die silently inside 

A thousand times a second

As my broken heart roars

Like Shakespeare's Romeo when he too

Crossed over in death

Whenever I look at your beautiful reflection 

In my black scrying mirror 

And think of all those precious things

I can't do together

Anymore 

With my old life's torchbearer

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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Lucy

 Foundation of the piece.

Mother's play such an integral, important part of a child's early life. And expands into everything else.

If you're lucky.

This piece is just a simple representation of that lasting legacy.

Did your mother leave a secret room in your heart, where she still lives?

Title:

Lucy

(A lone voice whispers)

I once held tightly

With small arms

 

A white candle that burnt with the heavenly perfume of total joy

Loved lighting and embracing its light whenever she called around

My mother

Lucy 

To my bedroom to tell me such remarkable childhood stories

Hold my hand

When I was her little boy

When Love burnt so bright

And that flame seemed to last throughout 

Every long scary night

But now that heavenly flame no longer burns

For to Heaven's Great Gates

She has returned

So here I am

In Saint Paul's

Lighting a votive candle

This Sunday

As I enter its four alabaster walls

For even though my white candle has gone out

And the long nights 

Seem so much more darker

Our deep love forever takes a more profound meaning 

Whenever I see her beautiful face 

In our favourite silver Elsa Peretti picture frame

We picked together last May 

On the twenty-first 

At Tiffany & Co

When my wife and I covered her 

In our pink and blue wedding confetti 

The first lady to love me when God sent me

To go 

Face the trials and tribulations 

That comes with living on the earthly plane

And now that deep love resonates and vibrates into oblivion 

For even though she had to depart 

She now lives forever in a secret room

In the centre of our beating hearts

Proudly smiling and watching 

Me and my Kelley

As our 

love for us

And her

Like an eternal white rose

Too Blooms

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

The Call of The Demerge

 

The Msula

 A poetic monologue for the inquisitive.

Title:

The Msula 

(A lone voice whispers)

Have you worn one of those old red coats yet

The one given by one of the invisible Riders in the silent night

The Msula

Who knows when your libido's getting wet

For the first time 

A coat filled with holes and tears

From someone else

Who no longer needs one to wear

A symbol of hopes and dreams

Sometimes in vain

For wearing it spiritually doesn't mean love will remain 

And it may even bring you pain

But have you worn one like I once did 

When I was a kid

When I felt my heartbeats rise like the early morning sunrise 

The weight and happiness tied together within a red ribbon of bliss 

In that first kiss

Then the solitude

Way after

But I still wore it proudly looking for its twin

Another red coat wearer 

With tears and holes

Frayed seams

But still keen

It's how I found my Mary before her coat was taken back 

By one of the Riders in the silent night

The Msula

When she died

To be given to another new land walker

To feel the anxiety, concern, difficulty, duty, hardship, load, onus, responsibility, strain, task, tax, trouble, worry. 

And dissatisfaction that comes from wearing it

But also how all those burdens are extinguished in the bliss of that first kiss

Oh, how I miss her

Now I'm 89

But a Night Rider appeared to me late last night 

Said 

Write your last thoughts down Henry

Your time with the red coat is nearly over

I'll be coming for it tomorrow before you crossover

So tear a hole in the fabric 

And pull at the seams

When you can see it before you go to Mary 

In The Great In-Between 

You see the holes and tears add to the magical essences 

Of wearing one of our holy gifts 

For it helps keep the hope for love present 

When all seems lost 

And helps to find the twin coat of the new wearer

Just like you and how you found your Mary

Guided by one of us

The Old Fairies 

So before I go 

Wear yours proudly

Be kinder and

Vibrate higher 

And if you already haven't found your twin red coat wearer 

Just know 

The Riders in the silent night

The Msula

Will soon find its twin and introduce your heart to heavenly choruses of hallelujah's

In the form of a new love 

 

So good night and good luck

For I can just see my beloved Mary in the distance calling 

Standing beside one of the Night Riders

The forever smiling 

Msula

As the moon and stars above seem to start falling 

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

Image created by Adobe Express.

Rebirth

The human experience has always intrigued, and formed the foundation stone of these monologues. In poetic form.

I create.

This is but another.

Salute.

Have you walked through hell to find your own piece of heaven?

Title:

Rebirth

(A lone voice whispers)

Consumed by times long reach

My old love now walks on a new beach

No more Greenwich Village walks

Trips downtown to Manhattan

No more listening to Van Morrison on a hot Sunday afternoon 

Drinking cold lemonade 

In the shade 

As passing yellow butterflies played 

Smiling in unison 

Watching the local ice cream van sound its arrival

With that particular catchy tune

Or reading Dostoevsky 

Page by page 

Aloud or creating poetry

Together

I guess 

Looking back with my rose-tinted glasses taken off 

It was like a prophecy in the Book of Revelations

To find heaven,

You must first face hell

Walk through the oncoming Apocalypse

Breathe in the final moments of despair 

See your once bright sunflower wither and float away 

To some sacrificial altar where they all go

Drawn by a dark power

Down some old black as death itself river

For like the Lotus flower 

We sometimes need to grow in the sludge 

To bloom

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Paradisus (L)

Consciousness and unconsciousness

Rests in peace

Tranquility flows internally

© John Duffy 

 

Existentialism in the 21 Century

I don't usually add people on social media randomly

For in time

I know

I

Me or you

Would truly miss 

So enjoy this

Our own connective gif

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

The Vine

 The first day love climbed

Like an invisible green vine 

Into me 

From Aphrodite's crimson tree

My life changed

Haunted forever by

My old history 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy 

Foundation of the piece.

Can you remember when you first fell in love, and did that moment signify a significant change in your emotional mindset?

Siren Dreams

Have you revisited old memories in the way hours of night

When ghosts of old love call to play

And you reminisce about all the sweet things they once said

 

First love

Now love 

Old love

Do still they wake you in deep dreams of an old life 

Once led

Summoning your attention with spiritual subpoenas

With memories of a time

When you rode your chariot proudly with them

Like a hyper Judah Ben-Hur

Into all arenas 

Before that old love 

Shattered into a million pieces 

Like glass

And which now call like midnight sirens 

In your own Odyssey

From the past

From a once holy dream

You thought

Forever

Would last

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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Foundation of the piece 

From family, young love to friends. 

Do we miss them all even more when that time together has passed?

The Escapee

(A lone voice whispers)

As an escapee

From the where one doesn't want to be

This message I've left here

From me 

To warn of She

For

In long shadows of the mind 

It comes

Creeping slowly in

Like the moor fog 

In a long sinful cloak of army grey

Lost Love

Smiling like a pretty Medusa

Knocking on your door softly

With wild black eyes

Black hair and cherry red lips

Looking for souls who into the long night pine

Like lone timber wolves

Focusing on their auras frequency's 

To tune in

To take them back to its green lair 

In the raging Lemurian Sea

To the Black Rock Tower where Prometheus lays helpless 

Upon its jagged diamond encrusted cliffs

Bound by Old Gods

By the power of the Aufbau Der 

The world builders of the High Mountains

To baptise them under the Emerald Fountain 

To then be robed in blue with fairy folk watching wearing silvery jewellery

Cast by the Forge Masters of Sigma Twenty1

To then to join the huge Coronation Line

To be new flowers in the Black Rock Fields

The search for love over as they are pulled over

Never to dream but to sway like Douglas Fir's

As the hypnotic incense infusion

Of frankincense and myrrh

Clouds their hopes and dreams with delusion 

So beware of

The Banshee of The Night

The Wife of He

You cannot see

The Lord of Black Rock Tower where Prometheus lays helpless upon 

Jagged diamond encrusted cliffs

Keep looking for the light of your life 

But pine no more

Or the image of the great seducer

Medusa

Could appear in spiritual form

Knocking on your astral doors

To then

No more to talk

No more to walk

No more to see 

But to spend all your days swaying in a hypnotic trance

In the nearest asylum 

As time

Advances

Somewhere hidden

In the raging Lemurian sea

Of The Great In-Between 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy  

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The Visitor from Hiranyaloka

 (A lone voice whispers)

Within the Witching Hour 

Of twelve to four am

In the Great In-Between

I've seen

Universes

Parallel worlds

Places

Where no living human beings have never been

Climbed through blue portals

To strange lands where angels and demons 

In choirs 

Sing

Walked lands

Where no water runs in rivers or springs

Walked the badlands of the forsaken 

Climbed the high towers of the iron maiden

Saw tomorrow's prophecies 

Before I awakened

But I was never alone

Faith in the Lord

Kept me safe

In The Badlands 

Beyond the Tomb

From being drawn at dusk

To been released at dawn

To explore

To revel in new sights

Past midnight 

Is a mystery which binds me still

From Arigartha

To Mulvanto

The red cliffs of the Ugato  mountains

From the twin suns of Sirius 

Bathed in autumn gold

Underneath lightning filled skies 

So now

I know an old secret

One for you to read as you pass me by

The dead don't die

They just live

Underneath 

Purple clouds

In another shimmering neverending sky

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Hiranyaloka:

Illumined Astral Planet.

The Island

(A lone voice whispers)

As I lay here

Under my apple tree

With my head on my pillow

Looking at my only treasure

A white feather 

By the sea

I can still remember the first time

The Ebb and Flow came looking for me

And I witnessed all those old things once hidden 

When my eyes couldn't see

When it engulfed me in its fine mists

Of secret memories 

The mysteries 

Insecurities 

Jealousy 

Lies 

And all other forgotten things

That Ebb and Flow from beyond the Great Sea

Brought to me

Forgotten moments

Missed chances

Last dances

And the loneliness of standing in a dark circle of never-ending silence

Gripped knee-deep in the black sludge 

Of the Hylands

Now alone on this island 

In the middle of a black sea

With only a white pillow 

White feather and an apple tree

For company 

I still see her

Skin as soft and white as snow

Dressed in blue Levi jeans

White tee

And black high heels

Blue sharp eyes

Beautiful and blonde like a young smiling Marilyn Monroe

Reminded by the mists of the Ebb and Flow

Which touches all things and binds to the spine

The past

Present and future

For they are the polestar

Of all good and evil

The collector and receiver 

Of all things made of matter on Earth

By seeing missed moments and mistakes

When I let that girl ride on her horse called Wildfire 

Right out of my paddocks gates

When my heart took shell fire from Desires Gatling gun

Is that why I'm stuck on this lonely island in the middle of this Black Sea

Sentenced 

To lay 

Under this apple tree 

Inscribed with the many etched in names 

Of past visitors 

With a white pillow and white feather for company 

Lord

Until I find Repentance

To climb higher

Haunted each night

By the Ebb and Flow 

About the girl with blonde hair who looked like a young smiling Marilyn Monroe 

Wearing Levi and a white tee

On a horse called Wildfire

Who I once let go

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy 

 

Have you been trolled?

Press play.

Is social media the new bridge

For trolls to live under

To act with impropriety

Those who need sessions of much needed psychoanalysis 

As technology grows 

In huge numbers

Each time there is rain or thunder

Sad hunters who stalk society 

Revelling and rejoicing in their spoken or written statements of notoriety

The Omnispective 

Fellows of the Royal Society 

Of Creating Social Anxiety 

A new Divine Comedy

We might all have to walk through 

One day or night 

Like Dante Alighieri

A twenty-first century journey through hell and purgatory to reach or express our own inner paradise

Guided by the Light

To be willing and 

brave enough 

To pay the price

Of self-sacrifice 

Of sharing our perspective 

Regardless who comments

Day or night 

From The Omnispective

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

Psychoanalytic therapy may be used to treat a number of different psychological conditions, including: Anxiety. Depression. Emotion struggles or trauma.

Rêves de Miss Applegate

(And the voices return. I previously said I was going to stop writing poetry but, a big but. 

The whispers continue. Salute)

Press play.

Title:

Rêves de Miss Applegate

(Dreams of Miss Applegate)

(A female voice whispers)

I still see her 

Old

Marie Laveau

I can't pretend

In my scrying mirror

Looking back 

And smiling 

Summoned to haunt me 

From when I visited 

Big Mama Aurelia

Somewhere on the water village of the Grand Bayou

For she announced the end

Of being single

And a time and place

Of happiness 

I still cannot see

Where I'll mingle

When Kamadeva will walk in like a proud Captain Jake

 And will tempt me to sin

In new 

Where's and how's

The what if's and so's

So

Sometimes 

I stand dressed in my Mama's old white wedding dress

Looking in my long black and gold mirror 

Pleading to know my fate

In what year 

Month or day

Will she'll come see me 

Before each winter's year ending snow

And whisper

This year

The waiting ends

 Josefina

So I can celebrate the overthrow

Of another phase of living in Hades

But until then

I'll just go back to masquerading on my life's only mission

On my heart's crusade 

Looking for true love

Before I fade away

(C)

Copyright John Duffy