Let all the war hawks
And war hungry
World leaders
Be conscripted
To stand on the front lines
To satisfy their souls
Thirst for war
In straight
Regimental lines
As the world
Hears their whines
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Foundation of the piece.
Would the thirst for war have a different narrative, if those advocating for it, served on the front lines?
Image shared under fair usage policy.
The Demarcation Zone
(A lone voice whispers)
As individuals, we don't sometimes realise the scope of utter hopelessness, until we unknowingly endure it
Or witness it
But within all that emotional spiritual warfare
A glorious Demarcation Zone always exists
Between
Pain and Salvation
Just awaiting courageous souls to cross it
To reach a new emotional nation
To find a new paradigm of looking at something filled with hope
To cope
A whisper of something glorious
Something to soothe the courageous
So when Hopelessness strikes
Look deep inside and hear that inner voice whisper
Hold strong
Try to stay the course
Cling on to your strength
Let's cross over
The Demarcation Zone
So when darkness looms
When all things seem despondent and desperate
Like Wormwood Star
The Dark Comet
Always remember
Your part in The Great Game
Is not over yet
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
A demarcation zone is a boundary or limit that separates two areas.
In this case, Hopelessness and Hope.
Image shared under fair usage policy
Want to play the YES Game?
(A curious voice whispers)
Are you a poet with lone-wolf personality tendencies?
(Answer YES silently, so only you'll know)
Are you a solitary person who loves being alone to write
Are you a rebel who resists conforming to social norms as you view the world
While trying not to conform
Are you independent and self-reliant
Subtly defiant
Do you prefer quality to quantity in your relationships
Less is the best
More a test
Do you highly prize your own choice of experiences and freedoms
Above all else
Whatever comes next
Are you a deep-thinking and introspective people watcher
A silent viewer
A wordy reviewer
Or are you a soul searcher looking for your missing link
In ink
But perhaps your true gift is a supernatural ability
Like mine
To with time
Explore the unknown realms within yourself and maybe others
And finally
As a poet
Are you an
Autodidact
Just like the true me,
A lone-wolf painter
Creating through words
Poetic Art
A person who teaches himself or herself, rather than being taught by a teacher
For we aren't we all but Poetry
Street corner preachers
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
A dash of dark poetry.
(A darkened soul sings to the watching night sky)
All hail to The Lost Tribe of the Shadow People of The Obsidian Dust
The life thieves like Lazarus
Who hides in the Grey Meadows
Outside my windows
Chanting
Yes
Pull up your souls black gallows
Hang your tortured heart
High
For us all to watch
The Machiavellian sights
While our blackbirds cry
And in us
Trust
As
I stood waiting
Waiting all night
Waiting all the next day
For your call
As they watched
Wasting so much time
After our fall
On Valentine's Day
But like time dies
Within each passing second
Our love died
As the Watchers
Watched
Within each playing record
Things I know now have
Changed forever
And memories of you
Still get in the way
For those memories
Don't need no cue or weather
To play
So now, there'll only be crying
Crying over you
As silver eyes in our painted white windows
Shine
Now you've gone
Now you're gone
And are no longer
Mine
No denying the whys
And what for's
As I cry
Yes baby
Our love is dying
Dying with time
As each of our old records play
And in each second
Deep down
I know
Why
Why you ran away
I know I stopped caring
Stopped sharing
As the crowd outside my windows sway
Chanting
What I was feeling
When my mother died and I needed healing
Did I take to the Old Jack Daniels
To hide what I was feeling
So baby
If you hear this
This is for you
My final sweet kiss
One of us is changing
And one of us is dying
And it's too late
For all our Valentine Days
Have upped and flown away
So I look up
Look up at the Sun
Knowing
I'm in hell
As I hail
The Shadow People of The Obsidian Dust
The life thieves like Lazarus
Who hides in the Grey Meadows
Outside my windows
Chanting
Yes
Then
Pull up your souls black gallows
Hang your tortured heart high
For us all to watch the Machiavellian sights
While our blackbirds cry
While our blackbirds cry
And in us
Trust
For soon I'll step outside
As they bow and go wild
And tonight join the crowd
For they all know me
Now
As One of their own
As I pull on
One of their grey shrouds
And start to sing
All hail
The Shadow People of The Obsidian Dust
The life thieves like Lazarus
Who hides in the Grey Meadows
Outside all windows
Chanting
Yes
Pull up your souls black gallows
Hang your tortured hearts high
For us all to watch the Machiavellian sight
While our blackbirds cry
While our blackbirds cry
And in us
Trust
The Shadow People of The Obsidian Dust
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy
Title
Krampus speaks from the Great In-Between.
(A dark voice whispers)
Love and loneliness
Unspoken dreams of romance and broken hearts
Shall have no reunion
But instead
Like fettered beasts to the slaughterhouse
They will stare foolishly into the distance
As they are abandoned,
Pleading for hope and a new companion
For deaden souls deserve no salvation
Such is my curse of the Dammed
Running or walking throughout
Every living nation
Men or women
Especially at Christmas
Swimming naked in pools of hate and judgement
Shall become as one
As they hear my approaching bells
Under the gaze of my cosmic gun
Love and loneliness
Sadness and pain
Will be their everlasting daylight
In their souls window panes
My silver mistress,
Mother Moon
Will seal their fate
On the twenty-fifth
When presents are received
For the spiteful and jealous
The hateful and cruel
Who loves to deceive
You better pray to change your ways
Before Christmas Eve
Or you might get a visit from me
Even if in me,
You do not believe
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy.
(A lone voice whispers)
Above all, like a form of intriguing divine magic
Vibrate in a form of insubordination, and write
Express anything
From good to tragic
Try to be an inspired instrument of grassroots resistance
To help others recover their power
For are you not a poet, writing about your experiences of walking,
The dark parapets and sun filled staircases
Of the Universes, many castles, and towers
Don't you want to be a part of one of the most avant-garde written movements in history
To flow down through Times, many fast-flowing rivers
With millions of other white paper boats
Symbolizing poetry
To be a burning sage on someone's minds door
To help them begin, the ancient cleansing ritual of purification
They might need
When they look into your soul's mirror
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
In 2024
It's good to see someone who still loves that mysterious thing called poetry
For like astrology
Reading or being consumed by it can help reveal answers
We all might silently yearn for to help us through personal disasters
A chance to embrace the fluctuations we endure daily
With people or situations as we walk out of our door
And even more so
Pay homage to those experiences as we explore and grow
On this planet, we live on
It's great to see the intricate
The visceral
Sensuous and ravenous themes
Used to lay works by followers upon its altars
As they bare their souls
Their sacredness
For to do so
In the stillness of day or night
I know they too will feel the tranquility and shades of holiness of being alive
In a wild world of living broken things
The never-ending opportunities for showcasing their insights using social media
As a bridge
A sort of PDF file
The transformation and attachment to the Seen
The Unseen and creating connection points
Like a docking way station
For travellers to be able to pause and look within a carefully created abyss
As they look back and reminisce
For with you the writer
It might help bring peace to those seeking a light
From that which burns in your candleholder
As you let that poetic lantern go
And for you, the listener who reads on
Throughout the four seasons,
For whatever reason
It can help summon emancipation through liberation
The beholder of all things good
As they stand
Shoulder to shoulder
As you get older
Trying to find freedom under the rising sun
From the servitude of seeking to be always good in all things
As well as avoiding the temptation and bondage of evil
For a gilded chain
A golden chain is as much a chain as an iron one
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Press play.
In the blink of an eye
Life can change
Irreversibly
Externally
But it's what you carry internally
When your world shatters
That matters
© John Duffy
The Monologue of Magdalena from Herzegovina
(A soothing female voice whispers)
O Hear me
Magdalena from Herzegovina
Charlatans abound
You know
Some say poetry is like a form of dark craft because music and poetry
Are at their baseline
spells that make intrigued eyes glow
But if you look deep into a King James
Magic too flows
Moses parting some sea
As someone special walked on water
Helping a blind Bartimaeus to see
So if that's not magic too using words that spells
Or even a selection of Letters
Let us not forget turning a little water into wine
With words that rhyme
For poetry
Stripped back
Makes its soft or hard demands and you'll listen
With wild eyes that will unconsciously glisten
For a real poet knows
You can't bargain with it
When you enter its Colosseum
Its arena
For try as you must
You have to trust and go where it flows
For you can't fight it
Not if it has you in its tight grip
Like the mythical sea monster
Scylla
Who once terrorized Odyssey's ship
When he entered the Strait of Messina
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
(A lone voice whispers)
I had a vision
Late one night
I dreamt I saw my true love
Dressed in stunning wedding white
While on this life's mission
She spoke to me like an apparition
She said
Put all mortal things aside and choose me above all your pride and ambition
And I will love you like Eve loved Adam
Before the greatest of falls
My dilemma is
Even though I heard her call
For she comes every night
Even though she spoke in another's language
Even though I dreamt I could once more walk with someone special and so beautiful
Who would help me win
I remembered
Eve cheated on Adam
Bringing sin and chaos into the world
Through temptation
I dreamt of all of Creation
And saw how sin corrupted all nations
So each night I turn and walk away and wonder
How can this be my true love
Who appears in my dreams from The Great In-Between
As that ghostly apparition always pleads
Please Pappie
Please stay
Don't leave me lonely again
By walking away
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy
Were the dark forces at play at any given emotional traumatic moment?
Title:
Apollyon Relationships
(A lone voice ponders after a first date)
Are you my
Morning Star
My fallen introduction
To spiritual and physical sin
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
APOLLYON reference in this case.
New Testament the destroyer, a name given to the Devil (Revelation 9:11)
I watched from afar
The ghoul who haunted me
From the wild seas of humanity
It came like so many others
To experience The Grey Rock
Method
Birthed by so many unlucky mothers
To spread profanity and then to endure Grey Rocking
Those to kindness
Unwedded
Who never stopped talking
Copyright John Duffy
(A lone voice whispers)
If you need something to read
To try to avoid the last waltz before a mental defeat
For things to settle down and become that bit clearer
While thinking about life
In a quiet moment
Surviving all your obstacles
From dams or brooks
Read on and
Slowly sit and look
In that mirror
When everyone seems to have your name
Written in black capitals letters
On their charge sheet
As you petition
Like a plaintiff in error
Look deep into those tired eyes and remember
When you were young and brave
When no one stood in your way
And say to those pallbearer shadows
Roaming deep
Be on your way,
Return to thy keep
For my fate
All my works in progress
All my hopes and dreams of love and success
Maybe false or may come true
Or melt away like something deliquesce
Into the blue
But the one love I keep with me deep
Is the love of my pilgrim soul,
Who greets me
Wherever I sleep
For I'm but a wayfarer in life
Facing challenges
Wherever they come
Standing courageously on life's battlefield
With my higher self
And all things hard or sharp
We cut in two
With bravery as our spiritual knife
For together
Me and my eternal pilgrim soul
Will never yield
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Theme:
Infidelity and what it can drive you to do.
How far would you go for revenge?
Title:
The Confession of Charlie Spanwick
(A lone voice whispers)
There was a time when I had no need to pretend
For I
Through visiting church
With my newly found Mary
Had discovered my illuminated friend
Who brought such bountiful faith into my life to help me keep breathing
Brought yellow bales full of hope
To keep me dreaming of a future with a wife
A house
2 children and trips to the seaside and country fairs
All the beautiful things from God's Island
But like all things
Shining and gleaming
Like rare expensive diamonds
There was a price to pay
If from the Lord's path
One swayed
So I now walk step in step
With those from the deep depths
From the long grass
No longer dreaming
Just another lost soul earning his keep
For those sitting on crooked thrones that never sleep
Pray for me
My name was Charlie Spanwick
My crime
I broke one of the seven deadly sins for a man who took my beautiful wife
And I nearly got away with it
Until the cops found my old Pa's favourite knife
For nothing breaks a person deep inside than those who cheat
And takes them on a false ride
But today
I went to church
And found my illuminated friend
When I prayed and said
Forgive me Lord
Save me from the Devils slave trade
For I'm just a man who once got played
Give me a second chance
And I swear I won't get swayed
And go rushing blindly in
Like the charge of the light brigade
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
(A lone voice whispers)
I can remember now I'm seventy-five
In this nursing home called
The Atonement
A surreal time
When I felt so alive
A pivotal moment in my life when happiness blew
Like a magical ruby red seed within golden leaves
Through my soul garden
Where nobody grows
And slowed and stopped to paint a priceless picture like a young Picasso
I thought would last forever
When we caressed
And would never die
Up high
In our now twin minds,
Midnight sky
A tapestry of two hearts beating as one
Entwined in mind
Where in time
We spoke in rhymes
But like all golden leaves Once green
Sent from The Great In-Between
The gold heralds a time to grieve
So now apart
We silently cry
Me the daylight
And She
The crow
Who flies at night
With ruby red lips
Bestowed with a kiss
To sink so many ships
And in this mournful hour In this precarious night
As I write
Before Saint Peter
Calls me home
I leave this letter to her
Infused with powerful memories of those happy days and hours
So she knows
I'll always remember the day we first met
And each willingly received
A red rose from the sacred tree
All lovers see
In each other's enamored eyes
When with eight magical letters
They bind forever
With a sweet romantic line
They utter
I love you
Before their beautiful relationship breaks down and stutters
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
(A lone voice whispers)
Oh, poets who write by pen or quill
Young or old
Hear me
Does the long night bring stories of the new
Or memories of the old
Creeping in
Calling to be written by you
By the Eternal Temptress
Hiding somewhere
Supernatural in the cold
On some unseen Capital Hill
Do you bind them up by your will
Like a chained up Prometheus
To your wild green
Hills of Creativity
Hold them to account like a reborn form of Socrates
Before releasing them through your choice of quill
Until they can whisper no more when they are spilled
To be still
And lay satisfied and sated
Asleep for ages
Like an insomniac after taking a strong sleeping pill
On some pages
Until those
New or old voices
Waiting and whispering
Out in the cold
Call no more
But watch like sirens
Watching Ulysses
Standing on your luscious green hills of creativity
Bound by your will
Waiting for your sympathetic ear
Day and night
All year round
On the wet slippery shores
Of your minds
Right Hemisphere
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
The right hemisphere controls creativity, spatial ability, artistic, and musical skill.
Source:
Google.
(A lone voice whispers)
Some say to be free
And avoid being played
By anyone or anything
Consumed and discarded like a cheap bottle of lemonade
By the charge of those drinking warm bottles of Kool-Aid
From their brown bag of tricks
You have to open your eyes real wide to see
To try to see what they plan and say in the shade
To see what they really know and places they go
To hear the true sounds of the bells they ring
And in that moment
As you watch with bright eyes aglow
To hear what songs they sing
As their record plays
You will know where their loyalties lay
And know
If you're being played or betrayed
By those dark souls
Who hide
Like members of The Lost Crusade
Amongst the dark shadows of humanities deadly nightshade
Called politics
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy
(A lone voice whispers)
I met my first love in June
When the full Moon
Ruled the night sky
Like Zeus
And those sweet memories will always remain
Even now,
Since she's gone and I feel such pain.
The Heavens light
I know
Will shine soon again
Lighting up the Moon
As we once more are reintroduced
Like on that beautiful day
We first met in June
And even though this pain follows me
Like a ghost down every lane
In the public and spiritual domains
Offering me dark fruits
Like Hera
I still march on
Carried by the memories of walking hand in hand
In such fun
Fancy free and footloose
Down so many unforgettable side streets
And that's why
Even now,
After 22 years
Of painful mental abuse
I can't say goodbye
For as I look up into the night sky
Up high
And see a full Moon
I still cry
Inside
Asking
Oh,
Why Lord
Did my true love have to die
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Press play.
America 2024
The people gathered
In their thousands
Like resilient members of a secret survivalist group
Day and night
To watch the main podium speaker
Preach to their audience and sing
While red and blue flags
Adorned with Stars and Stripes
Fluttered like butterfly wings
As the ignited ones
Looked to the one
Who promised to change
A million and one things
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy
Is to write for public consumption
A call to attract members of The Querulous Tribe?
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
What does it mean to be querulous?
Meaning of querulous in English
Often complaining, especially in a weak high voice
Forever Young
Frustrated and
Abandoned by words and verbs
Like Julius Caesar who once left Cossutia
The writer pined
And put on a Bob Dylan record
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Sunny Sonia Something to make you smile 😉
I once knew
A beautiful girl from Stainforth
Called Sonia
When I was free and young
She was tall and blonde
With a mischievous glint in her eyes.
That whispered
“See me
For who I am
Miss Independent and for I'm so strong”
We smiled in class
Laughed
While having such crazy fun
And now that life
And many years have run
We still love each other
As friends.
Like in the beginning
In youth
When we first met
Remembering
When we were free and young
Smiling in class
Laughing
And having such crazy fun
And that's why my Sonia
The beautiful strong
Young girl
I first met
When I was young.
You'll always be my special friend,
My precious number one
Because
Seeing your wide smile
Always
Takes me back to carefree days
When life was free
Pain free and fun
Xxx
(C)
John Duffy
