. Poetry from The Great In-Between: The Love Gambler

Sunday, October 27, 2024

The Love Gambler


 Fragments of an unusual dream from last night.


A strange conversation between two lost souls, it seems.


It makes an interesting monologue, though.


Oh, the joys of visiting, Lucidity City!


Salute.


Title:


The Love Gambler


(A lone voice whispers)



Did you once truly love me

Like I loved you


For I need to know

If we were once 


A

We


Or is it still just another darkly lit daydream


Illuminated by shadow birthing white candles 


I habitually cling to 

In my self-imposed darkness 


One where we find true happiness and togetherness


Buy a house


Have four children and sit happy in contentment 


Did I claim a part of your once unapproachable soul

As you once preached


A place

Where now 


No one

No longer knows


For it's beyond their mortal reach 


When on that sad but memorable day 

In Los Angeles


You quietly told me 


Standing by The Four Ladies of Hollywood

To go


Was I just a childish

foolish dream to carry you 


On a crimson stretcher of unrequited love


To safety


Beyond some deep emotional pain 

You were going through


Am I now just discarded 


Like a drained paper Costa coffee cup 


Since you said your unbearable goodbyes


When you embraced

On that fateful day 


Before we went to Los Angeles


All your family and kin 

Sweet backstabbing lies 


Will I rise up to face any upcoming storms


Within these winds of change 


I feel like soft and sharp feathers on my skin


As it blows over, my prayers of positive new horizons 


Watching me standing

Like Ulysses


Here at the beginning of the world's many awakening United Nations


Or will I fall like one of The Watchers


Headfirst into the blood-red snow of self-flagellation


But as I pause and look back at my once thought complete life


Like the doomed wife of Lot in The Book of Genesis 


And meditate over its sad unique highways and unrequited byways 


I hope 

Deep down 


They are replenished with self-growth 


With blessings from a man who once died on the cross


On a hill with others

in Golgotha


With a roll of these lucky soul-transforming 


Black and white dice 

Called Transmigration


I now toss


To avoid the musky scent and dark gifts of Self Damnation 


Which could turn me like Lot's wife

Into a pillar of salt


Brought from Hell's mythical vaults 

To me

By a black flying albatross 


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


Image shared under fair usage policy.




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