. Poetry from The Great In-Between: Confessionalism of The Soothsayer

Tuesday, August 27, 2024

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 

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