The Watcher

 The Watcher 

(A lone voice whispers)

You do know that your spirit can become cumbersome

wading through rivers of physical, political and spiritual injustices that you are sometimes, powerless to fix?

And sometimes, beauty lies in a temporary surrender?

For in the end, if you meditate to embrace that nine-letter word  

And contemplate these two important points of view: 

Number 1

Being powerless right out of the blue can be just another bridge to try to cross in this life

A bridge to cross the surging rivers of people's karma below

And all you can do is offer help if possible and be gracious enough to accept this subtle fact.

Everywhere you go

For there is no point in fighting point number one without deep meditation before you act 

Since in the emotional anguish of your internal battle,

You could abandon the very fabric that offers you acceptance

Which could just be

Point number two  

 Love.

 Surrender again and embrace that nine-letter word

Surrender yourself to Love for Karma will offer little relief or respite 

On any given night

And always embrace that as long as you breathe, you can in time, change the future 

Even if yesterday stays, for your life is but a natural play composed of four stages

Infancy, childhood, adolescence and adulthood

And sometimes Infancy could return 

A feeling of powerlessness as you experience life as you age

But as long as we have tomorrow.

Hope beckons just like the other three stages of life

And as long as we have some form of Love, today could be glorious

As you once realise life is just a perceptual experience.

One just has to know, how to know how to deal with the differences.

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

Questions from The Ether

Questions from The Ether

(A lone voice whispers)

Is this why the modern world still needs poets and poetry?

To help the Illuminated be slowly renewed like a faithful servant of God clutching their rosary?

For can the power of poetry help carry you whenever your feet tremble, as you hear news of happiness or even tragedy?

Especially when tears stream down your face, for some say

Poetry can reinforce or shape new emotional realities. 

And a good book filled with heart-stopping prose or even a great poet like maybe yourself 

Can help light up in others

A divine hope 

A golden flame that can never be extinguished, even in the darkest moments of their anguish. 

To help keep those insidious shadows at bay as they find a new means to cope

I know we will all experience despondency at some point in our lives, and sometimes will feel lost, but one thing will always ring true: 

We will always return to our need for something to do or read, for a belief in a greater power. 

A force which can help us restore happiness, wash away tears, and try to make us feel whole again.

As it helps us explore a deeper understanding and appreciation of life, and all its immeasurable priceless moments. 

Some mystics say that poetry can help to enable us to reclaim those dire moments of darkness and remind us that those we love, including ourselves, are enveloped in good grace

Free from injustice, condemnation, pain, and suffering, but simply trying to achieve peace. 

For reading or creating poetry has always been the sweetest, everlasting song

That whispers or calls to every living soul, if they choose to carefully listen.

 

Regardless of their social or environmental positions or conditions. 

So have you heard it call to help you cross, maybe the Bridges of Doom?

From way over there

Seated in that very room?

(C) Copyright John Duffy.

Image shared under fair usage policy.

 

Are You Worthy of Being Remembered?

Foundation:

I recently had an engaging conversation with a priest, which inspired this piece. Salute.

Title:  

Are You Worthy of Being Remembered?

(A lone voice whispers)

You do know that there are two dates in all our lives that we either don’t remember or will never see, don't you?

Well, let me tell you.

Those two dates are related to our birth and, more significantly, our passing.

When we cross over, and hopefully rise to a higher frequency.

Those two dates are only separated by a dash, such as 1937 – 2008.

That little dash.

A mere stroke of the pen or a simple key on a keyboard or typewriter.

Carries within that small indentation all the adventures, dreams, loves, hopes, achievements, and so much more.

From sad, happy, easy or hard moments when you once ran freely through life's great gates.

Listing all those adventures, dreams, loves, hopes, and achievements could take forever.

So the question is:

Do you want to just be a simple dash in some copy written by a stranger on that inevitable morning?

A mere dash on a random newspaper or social media site, written by someone who is merely going through the motions? 

Or do you want to be more?

While the publication may include your simple dash when reporting the event, why not strive to be a vibrant crescendo of noise, reverberating around everyone like the chorus of magnificent sopranos?

Your life might ultimately be summarized by a stranger with a brief paragraph followed by random numbers. 

However, to those who love and cherish you.

Your family, friends, colleagues, and even strangers.

You can try to be someone they will always remember fondly.

So, will you try to increase your worth by doing more?

By being maybe more attentive, engaging, understanding, and empathetic.

Encouraging, friendly, kind, grounded, affectionate, patient, observant.

Welcoming, and so much more each time you walk in or out of a door.

“For you are your own magnificence. 

So shine a light so bright that it never dims and illuminates everyone whenever your name is mentioned!”

And always try to do and be better.

Before you meet the Tall Man, also known as The Soul Collector.

(C) Copyright John Duffy

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Want to know a secret?

 

Foundation.

Some say the body rebuilds itself within a ten-year cycle but on the spiritual side, is that even possible?

Emotionally, can one ever truly rebuild one's old cornerstones?

Title:

Do you want to know a secret linked to life?

Haber amado en cualquier edad

Es haber muerto de tantas maneras (S)

To have loved in any age

Is to have died in so many ways

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy.

Misha.The Great Elemental.

 

h

Misha.The Great Elemental.

Clad in her swiftly flowing white silk gown, adorned with golden hems, she stood on the ominous, invisible banks of שְׁאוֹל

With her black hair blowing.

On the unspoken grounds of Sheol. She whispered:

"Welcome to a collection of stimulating otherworldly prose summoned from the shimmering half-places where few truly visit or go. 

Welcome to The Great In-Between.

A gathering of light and dark.

An indulgence of supernatural prose to satisfy the inquisitive mind on any lonely, rainy or even happy day.

Wherever you might be. 

In this deceptively deep life, As you still run. 

Read on, knowing that those who watch with me.

Stand silently behind, hiding in these flickering shadowy spaces that also exist around you, even in your very bedrooms. 

And You

Yes, you have unknowingly summoned them all by reading these opening lines, drawn from the many dark halls of the Dragon Castle at Apollos Keep.

So, as we advance together to surround you, it is exhilarating to finally meet you.

Shall we begin with tales of light and dark, emotional overtures linked to morality and sin, and whatever else they've witnessed? 

Shall I whisper the low echoes that resonate from here to eternity within those alabaster grey walls?

If so, just repeat after me:

"So mote it be! 

Let us begin. With tales from you and your kin."

That line has been inscribed in the ancient books of life since the dawn of time.

From when God crafted the Great Cosmos around us.

Can you feel us creeping through the cautious corridors of your mind, as I pause and sinfully whisper this interdimensional rhyme?

You may dismiss this as a sensuous, strange dream. 

You may convince yourself it is just your fertile imagination. 

But believe me, it’s real, and you will come to see and embrace it over time, for you are now ours. 

From the Black Grimoires, stolen like a common thief from the Devil's Keep, comes an ominous parade filled with unseen angels.

As I invoke this spell to compel you to love us all as you sleep at night.

To dream of us when you rest and prepare for our eventual meeting.

I've cast your name into the Sphinx’s Mixing Bowl, and there is no one to blame.

So don’t question when your unconscious mind starts counting down the dog-eared days and slow nights.

Tossing and turning, restless and filled with burning anxiety and angst. 

For you are now ours because by just reading this, you have just sipped some of our Holy Communion wine.

By invoking the power of this, our interdimensional rhyme.

And joined our huge ever-growing chanting circle.

To be closer to us

The Hidden Folk separated from mortals and only accessed by those anointed 

to hear whispers, coming down through the Blue Portal

By us 

The Universes 

Old Watchers and Immortals

 

Who've you've just let in

(C)

John Duffy

Have You Heard Them Call

 

Foundation:

Have you had a lucid dream before?

Well, I often have recurring lucid dreams.

Sometimes featuring strangers I’ve never met. 

In quiet moments, when I’m awake, I can’t help but wonder: 

Are they standing in crowds, waiting for me to dream and return?

Some vengeful / Some happy?

Title: 

Have You Heard Them Call

(A lone voice whispers)

In the dying embers of consciousness,  

At any given midnight,  

Or in the soft amber glow  

Of a silvery day,  

Right before the blackbirds  

Or crows  

Come out to play.  

They

The Night Rulers of such lucid empires

So dim yet always so well-lit,  

Stand patiently waiting  

Along my many unseen paths 

In strange, mystical lands of contradictions.  

Dressed for adventure or flight,  

Always smiling with bright eyes, 

They look my way, 

 

Adorned in black and white,  

Luring strangers like me  

To their incredible, radiant places.  

To swim,  

Talk, or stroll,  

Carefree  

Within our dreams.  

Or to wade through red rivers 

Hidden in the Great Fissures,  

Out of sight,  

Where the invited  

Can kneel and pray  

When summoned  

With these softly spoken lines  

In Latin:  

Esto sicut servus  

Donum in somnio  

et estote parati ad nos  

Maiores et manes  

Exspecto et  

Stans  

Ad flavum et rubeum litora  

Magni Inter (L)  

Come be like a slave  

In our gift of dreams,  

And be ready for us,  

Ancestors and ghosts,  

Waiting and standing  

On the yellow and red shores  

Of The Great In-Between.  

So be it

(C)

Copyright John Duffy  

Image shared under fair usage policy  

Renewal

(A lone voice whispers)

In the wind,  

In a gale, or at sea,  

Evoked by angels at daylight,  

Awoken by devils at midnight.  

And just broken  

In between.  

I once wandered like Dante,  

Experiencing heaven and hell  

Simultaneously,  

Like a shadow being,  

A Djinn.  

Unfolded like a rare, old-world map,  

Cold and lost as life's winds destroyed all my sanctuaries.  

I once used as cover while my broken heart recovered.  

But today,  

On December the fifth,  

The third day after you left,  

I feel resurrected and reincarnated like Mephibosheth.  

For, like in all relationships, holding Death's cold hands while you once wandered isn’t real death:

  

Only a tragic play.  

Yet one can feel burnt at the stake,  

Like the family and servants in a play 

Written by someone known as Shakespeare,  

Called Macbeth.  

(C) Copyright John Duffy

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Gothic Poetry

(A man clad in white speaks to a shimmering female shadow. Leaning on a horse)

Alone in this place,  

Unable to touch you and watched by the Mighty Dogan.  

Overhead, hiding above you

Shining like a rebellious and calculating Archimedes, 

 

I still search for the whole you and the Purple Flame 

The light that will help to guide me home.  

To you.

My red rose of Cairo

Before the Great Dogan warriors appear and try to defeat me,  

The Malachi, 

 

The legendary stalkers of the Black Forest who climb high into the Quantum Spaces

  

In the Great-Between, 

 

To reach the golden threads  

And enter dreams unseen.  

To cause confusion and delusion.

  

That’s why I'm still searching for the Purple Flame,  

A secret Philosopher's Stone known to burn the portals to the Quantum Spaces,  

Before the Mighty Dogan and his armies  

Of the Malachi  

Use their unique access to try to enter your soul's secret places.

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Consequentia (L)

(A lone voice whispers)

Like the Sagittarius A* Black Hole, at the centre of our own known galaxy.

Does getting older make you slowly swallow more and more former memories? 

To wallow in bygone years spent with family, friends, lovers and enemies?

Like this Senryu below looks at the weaknesses of human nature.

Found in all human semidocumentaries?

Breathlessness Desire 

Adolescent Memories

Old age consumes all

(575)

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy 

The Monologue of Jack

 

Foundation.

Do you try to stop what you are doing when inspiration whispers?

The Monologue of Jack

(A lone voice whispers in Caerphilly, looking at the rain. Reading aloud with Henry watching)

My love

I wrote this for you last night as the Shadow People gathered in our old bedroom and watched.

In the End.

  

When the wind screams like a banshee and the lightning strikes, 

 

My love for you will grow stronger and will never stop.  

When the rain comes, filled with our still-wet memories of our mistakes, 

 

I'll walk through it all to wash away the pain, no matter how long it takes.  

When the Darkness, which in these familiar shadows 

Now creeps and whispers, like a voice similar to the one in Isildur's Bane

"Take this, do that." 

I'll remember your aura emanating bliss and your deep love for our Henry,  

Our ginger cat.  

When the photographs cause my tears to fall,  

I'll remember how often you picked me up after every fall.  

When the day dies and the night says, "the world is no longer watching.  

You can now cry," 

I'll whisper back.  

"In the end, we'll grow closer still;  

Ironclad without flaws or loopholes.

For no boundaries or limits can stop what we once had.

Two of life's most vibrant travellers.

The Princess and her sidekick 

Me

Jack the Lad. 

(C) Copyright John Duffy

The Sacred Hollow

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Have you been subtly conditioned to overlook your true potential? 

Does a voice sometimes whisper?

Whether in sleep or in daylight? 

Open your tired eyes wide and reach for the stars. 

See how far you can go. 

Cast off the chains of conditioning 

That appeared as you grew older. 

Be courageous and break free from what you’ve been told. 

Mould a new mindset before you become set in your ways or too old 

Setting an example for future generations to follow, 

Before your spirit returns to The Sacred Hollow. 

(C) Copyright John Duffy

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Fluorescent Memories

 Foundation.

As the sudden rise in cancer grows, a piece relating to the emotional trauma it leaves. 

Grief is such a painful journey we all must make, someday.

Title:

Fluorescent Memories 

(A lone man looks at a shrine in his bedroom and quietly thinks aloud, as the family cat watches)

I still miss my love and her bright brown eyes.

Her incredible wit, her beautiful smile, and her outrageous ability to light up any given room with just one look.

Those painful, fluctuating memories follow me like the ghosts of the Goryō.

They return, biting like a shiver of tiger sharks.

Akin to my own Gospel according to Mark.

Everywhere I go, now that she's gone, when I'm suddenly reminded of her.

And how she was martyred on the grey cross of life, paying the sacrifices it takes to make love work.

Before cancer arrived, and double-parked. 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Goryō refer to Japanese spirits, often the ghosts of those who have sacrificed for a cause.

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Has this ethereal visitor called by yet?

 

Foundation.

Has this ethereal visitor called by yet?

Like an unseen ghost

True Love materialised

Owned until the end

 (575)

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy 

Soul Searching

 

Foundation.

Do you have a twin flame you are bound to look for and love, searching over many lifetimes?

Title: 

Soul Searching 

(A lone voice whispers)

I used to search everywhere, but now I just travel North 

To somewhere in the US

In the middle of a small city

Stand on a windowsill I finally found and watch

Watch my twin flame

Called Mary Jane 

Dancing and listening to her favourite vintage Motown music

Sometimes, I appear as a House sparrow or a yellow butterfly 

Just watching and waiting until we are reunited again

But I know our memories will be wiped before we take human form, to make our search more interesting 

So my last line is:

If you see a bird or butterfly watching you 

It could be your soulmate hunting

Who's been searching for you through time 

After its bell

This time around, has finally been chimed.

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

**The Monologue of Charlie Boy**

 

**The Monologue of Charlie Boy**

(A friendly voice whispers)

Am I charismatic?  

Engaging, or just completely enigmatic?  

Or am I simply an old traveller from beyond The green hills of Old Avalon  

Stepping into this new age reborn?  

Did my guardian angels weep with joy when I found my new calling?  

Do they quietly hold my soft hands and comfort me

  

Whenever I feel depressed, in pain, or like I'm falling?  

I don’t have all the answers, for they will be revealed  

When my time comes and I am recalled.  

I'm not just a man of flesh, but an old soul slipping slowly, discovering new kin  

scattered throughout Old Mother Gaia's mesh.  

Am I just like you?  

Another tiny beacon of divine light, trying to hold back the legions and hordes  

who endlessly weaves

Reading from their leather-bound grimoires  

filled with dark spells meant to deceive?  

I'm so glad to meet you.

  

Can you feel that subtle electricity I'm sending through these words? 

 

For it doesn’t matter what your gender, creed, colour, or ethnicity is; 

 

Just try to write or sing with authenticity 

 

And use whatever means to express your soul's lucidity.  

For we are all different,  

different in a good way.

  

When our true selves are revealed to come out to play.  

So here’s to you, wherever you are, in whatever towns or cities.  

As Big Frank once sang in 1969

  

Keep doing it your way 

For not everyone can live a benedictine life

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

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Whispers

 

Foundation.

Do you use images as a canvas to stimulate your creativity?

Title:

Whispers

(A lone voice whispers)

To the one I know with a secret, sacred name 

And uses poetry as a means of expressing the beauty of appealing to people, with a common touch

Lying on her bed each night alone

Surrounded by glittering glass and silver 

Looking at her computer or Apple iPhone 

Every day we're together, in spirit, and one day God will save and forgive us

No matter how deep life's cruel knife cuts

The boy and the girl with the golden guitar, who loved each other too much 

(C)

John Duffy 

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Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett. The Dark Goddess.

  Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett. The Dark Goddess.

(A lone voice whispers)

Like a lone argus-eyed oblique tattered caliginous silhouette

Moving extremely cautiously in the severe, deadly silence

The Mistress of the Voices of the Dead

Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett

A rare blatherskite whose white emblem appears on the backs of

The Great In-Between black gull's wings

Who just love to gather in huge invisible circles above lost souls 

Like earthly Starling flocks

To crow and sing

Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett

The seasonal bringer of red torches to burn at midnight

By kings

Princesses

Prince's

Peers and Lords

Red torches that would never go out 

No matter even if they got soaking wet 

When she stirs up her twin Sister Anxiety 

To fight in all gathered 

As she's summoned and ceremonially swept up

By her swollen army of mindless hordes

By their pleas

Calling to be re-masked and rebranded

With her new Emotions suit of self-resurrecting armour

Which her faithful armies seek

Full black and white leather and a two-sided blade, and a white candle

Always lit to dispel the darkness 

As old or new emotions cascade 

To help guide them 

A new follower home to atone

After they've been beautifully betrayed

And all their inner larders have been raided and waylaid

By a conjured blind colporteur

Will you grasp Poe Ravenscroft Marmosetts

Shadowy hand to then suddenly hear the summoning anthem

Proudly played loudly by her ethereal band

Like I once did

The forbidden one known only to the few by her real, unspoken name 

Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett 

She of the steely green eyes

Who always appears from the West 

With horse and carriages following her in straight lines

Stacked high with new black and white suits of leather 

And carrying white lit candles and sharpened blades

For those lost

Thinking about all the ones who broke the sanctity of their sacred trust

When they were betrayed 

Who now need a new armour made out of black and white leather

A white candle and a two-sided blade

After hearing and experiencing the traumas linked to the explosion 

One of her emotional hand grenades

Will you too hear these hissed words

Accompanied by the shrill sound of her ancient bejewelled Shofar

If you her call

Surrender

Surrender

Will you summon me with your cries and pleas

The true queen 

All the real honey bees seek

Will you stand and listen as my priestess

Amongst my unvoiced bannerman 

The harsh-voiced Sangoma of the Netherworlds

Gathers and commands you to pull on my black and white leathers

Hold up your new white candle and a two-sided blade

And return with her to go to war forever

Near my unseen home in all weathers 

A new soldier in an invisible army of the betrayed

A place where emotions no longer causes the Amygdala to get wet

For no known velleity can save you now

So will you follow I 

Poe R

avenscroft Marmosett

Into the sunset to reach a new land

Hidden just beyond The Green Hills 

In the West

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Do you believe in angels?

 

 Foundation.

Do you believe in angels?

And do they patiently wait for prayers to be called to help?

Title:

The Eternal Water Oaks

A lone voice whispers

The invisible Angel smiled at the rows of sorrowful patients

Which lay before it on ward twenty-one of Saint Peter's Hospital 

In New Brunswick

New Jersey 

As it then looked at just one particular sorry soul, whose body was now broken and bent

For it was why it was summoned by heartfelt prayers 

Whispered by his family and wife to be heard 

For it to be dutifully sent

The smile it carried wasn't a smile of ill judgement 

Or dismay, but of immense hope 

To change the sad vibrations at play

For it knew the recently diagnosed patient would find the tenacity and strength to eventually cope

Whether they recover or leave others to grieve 

For they all do 

It's a silent degree

A line spoken by the Almighty 

What all things follow if they truly believe whatever it says

All they or others have to do is call for them and pray

To summon angels from The Great In-Between

The bringers of such priceless white crisp envelopes to soothe the soul

The invisible folk

Who'll follow like betrothed guardian philanthropists

Just huddled together

Sleeping

In the half-shade of the Great In-Between trees

The Eternal Water Oaks

Waiting for psychic calls to spring into action

To fly to those caused by an exothermic reaction

A chemical interaction followed by the evolution of heat

With incredible satisfaction 

To find those whom they are called to greet 

Into the lonely, caressing arms of the swirling grey mists 

Which moved and flowed all around 

Like it had a phenomenal supernatural intelligence 

Hiding those sleeping 

By The Great Grey Oaks 

Angels

Hidden

By its holy smoke, which it uses to dutifully cloak

Eternal friends 

Who know

Living or dying isn't the end

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared via fair usage policy via Pinterest. 

A lone voice whispers in 2025

 

I can see

All the way from in here

That the fate of the world is on a precarious knife-edge

The black-robed vultures

Are gathering 

In secret covens and lodges

For their Great Cull

Carefully planned and patiently waiting

On their gilded governmental ledges

For The Last Harvest

The Great Play

Paradise

For the nuclear family

Has been torn asunder

Alongside Religion 

Family values

Gender

By the throw 

Of a black and white dice

Announcing new agendas

As in boats

Missed placed nations

Sail and wonder 

Will I find freedom 

From my old kingdom

Just to drown and freeze

To death

In cold waters

As politicians 

Ponder

Argue

Reflect

And hatred 

Interjects

Faith in a 

Higher Power

In retrospect

Seems

Demeaned and hated

By those with no nerves

As churches are

Closed

By Elites

Leaving people with

Nowhere to go

Musing

In silence

In defeat

But they

The Elites

They'll get what they deserve

When Hell opens

Up its doors

And they are duly

Served 

You may feel

Alone

Scared

Insecure

Or in pain

Moving slowly 

In between jagged lines

But your God knows

Who's lost their faith

And needs a boost

A touch of The Almighty's grace

Through a sickness

Delivered by followers of darkness

So all I can say

Is pray

Pray

Pray everyday 

And God will try to remedy

All that comes 

Whatever may 

For as Jeremiah 29:11 says

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, 

plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

As Deuteronomy 31:6 says

Be strong and courageous. 

Do not fear or be in dread of them, for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. 

He will not leave you or forsake you.”

So in Proverbs 3:5-6 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. 

In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.

Quoting Lamentations 3:22-23

 The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;

His mercies never come to an end; 

They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

So to Isaiah 41:10 

Fear not, for I am with you; 

Be not dismayed, 

for I am your God; 

I will strengthen you, 

I will help you, 

I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

And ending with Corinthians 4:16-18 

So we do not lose heart.

Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. 

For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. 

For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.

Be strong. 

The light must keep shining

For kindness and compassion

To keep winning

Against those swimming

In The Devil's Dark

Unforgiving 

Waters

By constantly

Sinning

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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Missed Encounters

Are there extraordinary people you still miss for whatever reason?

This could include mothers, fathers, family members, friends, or lovers.

Does your mind sometimes wander into daydreams?

Title:

Missed Encounters 

(A lone voice whispers)

There's a dream world I go to, where the wild rivers flow. 

A dream world where true love lives, and always welcomes me.

Underneath our beloved, Babylonian weeping willow.

With warm arms that always forgives and loves me.

Lost somewhere Interdimensional.

In The Great In-Between.

For all our ancestors to see.

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy.

Old Memories

I see you  

Standing on the corner of my vision,  

Waving your white handkerchief of surrender.  

Do you see mine? It will soon be time to remember,  

For the Lord gives and takes away.  

Let’s be reunited,  

If only for minutes,  

Or hours a day.  

While our hearts still sing,  

As the yellow butterflies play.  

(C) Copyright John Duffy

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Have you got a muse?

 

Occult Whispers

 

Occult Whispers 

Do you summon new or old

secret places?

Sanctuaries of Hidden Sacred Spaces?

Transforming and restructuring unseen realities, and visions of old or new faces?

To even build bridges to cross contradictions of ego, self and even trauma?

To walk away from low places: linked to old cities like Sodom and Gomorrah?

Using a diverse mixture of letters as a supernatural or mystical quality?

To create and help override everyday experiences of regression or depression? 

Using wisdom, spiritual insight, and intuition?

If so, this occult spell is for just you, to help you win.

"Quasi ventus surgas et vincas omnia peccato coniuncta." (L)

(May you rise like the wind and conquer all things linked to sin)

 (C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Occult: 

A term that was originally used in Latin to designate the hidden or unseen properties of things and that, since the 16th century, has also been used to characterise religious traditions that include belief in unseen forces or that otherwise behave in a secretive or mysterious manner.

Sodom and 

Gomorrah, in this case, reflects any situations linked to corruption and sin.

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A voice at midnight

 

(A lone voice whispers)

As I walk alone in here

Just looking for a strange city called Redemption and a means to atone

Surrounded by whispering, crying voices in this ominous new darkness

Of The Great In-Between

Which swirls all around humanity, but to the profane 

All around you

It still remains today totally unseen and unnamed

I always really wonder deep down inside as I move and peruse

Does she honestly still miss me, that lady in black who was never satisfied

Even though I was famous and talked about every day 

On every world news

That young war bride I once met when I toured worldwide

Who I once used to sit with in secret and in the low hours by candlelight

Converse in-depth about love life and all its sometimes painful mysteries linked to death and power

Which always used to remind me of Macbeth

As we sat underneath that magical old blackened oak tree, no matter where we were

Somewhere hidden in the many fluctuating realms of the forbidden

Just connected by a portal, I used to call forth by a secret incantation the name of a dandelion

One of The Great In-Between's most beautiful flowers 

Only known to a few of the last descendants of those deemed immortal

From where I was born and raised in Tupelo, Mississippi

To then be known all the way to the wet sandy shores of the Baltic Sea

Am I soon to be just a faded, jaded memory

A part of a now-old and forgotten legacy

People come and go in your old life 

I suppose

Friendship, heartbreak, and love go hand in hand with something resembling Damocles' sharp knife

So I'm told now I'm wiser as each day I grow older

Some relationships will seem to last forever, and some will inescapably be cut so deeply by their biblical silvery blade

That no matter how hard you may have cried, shedding such sad tears 

Or kneeled for hours and prayed

You'll eventually know that's why love and friendship are entwined around treasured memories of others

You once so dearly cared for

Sometimes choose capriciously to slowly just fade away

But if I could only just see the face of my precious, treasured memory once more 

Starting from today

I would thank the Almighty until the final day of my baptism into a new holy Jerusalem

If only he would bless me with the power and the magic of an endless Midsummer Night's Dream

To once again in this darkness

Sit together and talk under this new blackened old oak tree

After I once again try to just summon her

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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The Strict Mistress from the House of Hidden Books

 

  

I had a rather intriguing conversation today about the power of seduction through words. 

It's a tad risque.

"Whisper into my imagination and you can gain my attention,

But if those whispers reach my soul, I could be yours  forevermore."

I created this piece as I mused on the above when a familiar voice appeared. 

The Strict Mistress from the House of Hidden Books

(A lone voice whispers)

Within these conjured hypnotic words

Lies, my secret binding spell

To you 

To control and contain 

No matter how loud you shout or yell out

In happiness or pain 

To attach you to me forever or temporarily 

With lashings of lascivious dark stories

As your soul salivates in total submissive anticipation and slowly starts to weep

While waiting for new life-changing glories 

Will you let me devour your curious mind like a cavernous thief

And take you to new heights of wild, unconditional excitement

As your higher self suddenly

Wakes from its repetitive, mundane sleep

Will you let me take you so damn

Deep

To new apocalyptic wet shores 

Through exchanges of whispered hirquitalliency

Of unexplored crimson heat

And let my hidden fingertips 

Trace pagan pictures of intimate lambitions and reunions

Across that succulent exposed spine in your mind 

Will you give me all those deep, pamphagous thoughts

You keep bajulated under strict locks and keys

That no one sees

Forever confined 

Landscapes, or should I say mindscapes 

Filled with such visceral, enticing written words

Which brings forth such irrational coercive armies 

Heralding banners of such a hypnotic binding power

Just waiting to liberate minds in the low hours

In the new battles of Middle-Earth

Those willing to sacrifice everything they once knew

To then be gently or vigorously deflowered

As they use aroused imaginations

To explore new verbs

Or sentences 

From my House of Hidden Books

Appearing like S & M

Mistresses or Masters 

Right out of the blue

Will you pray for us to embrace 

While these soft words upon your mind's delicious lips 

Are gracefully worshipped

For by hearing these whispers, you've now been duly baptised throughout this

Our soul's reintroduction 

As your hypothalamus is stimulated by my black and white

Ethereal leather whip

 (C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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Visions from The Great In-Between

Visions from The Great

 In-Between

(A lone voice whispers)

Did you know that demons prowl like a clan of hyenas while you sleep? 

They come close, creeping in from the dark shadows and sniffing for the odour of your soul. 

Their presence may signal that you are becoming increasingly corrupted by the insidious manipulation of society as you grow older. 

They seek the sweet smell of cabbage, a feast to collect, much like Bob Marley, as your soul grows weak.

As you carry more and more unnecessary chains and baggage. 

So the question is: 

Will you pray to your God of choice to strengthen your soul? 

For when you sleep, the night dwellers come prowling, creeping in to seek you as their ultimate goal. 

For they look for corrupted souls who are drawn to all things wicked, linked to defilement.

As they use soul metastasis to help their wickedness grow, like falling black snow. 

(C) Copyright John Duffy

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The Angel of Fatima

 

Foundation.

In a corrupt world, do angels of any faith watch?

The Angel of Fatima

 (A lone voice whispers)

Sometimes, in the sight of such mindless violence

In this deep silence

I kneel to pray in these grey shadows

That peace will prevail, one day in your world

That mountain tops worldwide will joyously sing, with unconstrained laughter

And in defiance

As we, The Watchers

Angels

From the Great Hereafter 

Smile, as our Silver Towers in Heaven

Hum with a sweet medley 

Of 

Praise Be

Praise Be

For sinners below

Will be baptised

In a new sea of Galilee, by a reborn John the Baptist

To be winners

To find true love 

Walking freely

Now in open forests

Pleading to be plundered

Daydreaming souls will no longer need to wander

In frantic visions

Alone

Since purification, not self-sacrifice

Will lead them to divine wonders 

To block their pyramids of pain

With Hope's capstone

Will you 

Call me

When the moon's

High

Past the tree's 

Hiding the skies

When the Eclipse 

Comes

For I can see and sense you 

Need that feeling

A loud drumbeat of need

That screams

Pleading

So

Will you open those tired arms

And let me in

So I may with sunlit kisses

Swim in all your inner vestibules

Sanctify all you know

As we dance as one

To a new song

Announced by life-changing, fast-moving octaves

As a glorious new world is built upon the many graves of

The secret slaves

Of an old empire 

Of such depravity and corruptible sin

With their rich leaders 

Just the seen knaves

Controlled by hidden hands

Of those

Our prayers

Can never save

©

Copyright John Duffy

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Hope

 

Foundation.

We are all born to grieve for one day, someone we love, will have to leave.

Finding a means to cope, will hopefully give birth to hope

By eventually embracing our darkness, we can find some sort of peace.

The Kübler-Ross 5 stages of grief:

Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, and finally Acceptance. 

Can't still believe it

Why

I'd do anything, take me

I'm staying in bed

I do miss them so, but at least I'll carry their memories with me

Everywhere I go

If you have been through grief, you probably will relate to the five stages 

Hopefully, you are at the last stage but if not

The others are just another part of the healing process, and will help you turn their dark pages

Poem below:

Laid on the altar

Of Elizabeth Kübler-Ross

She finds hope in grief 

(575)

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

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Finding Catharsis

Some say pain drives art.

Is that how you fell in love with poetry?

Title:

Finding Catharsis 

(A lone voice whispers)

Conjuring stanzas 

Baptised sanctified with pain 

To keep on floating

(575)

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

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The Diary Letter to Beatrice

 

The Diary Letter to Beatrice

(A lone voice whispers, as the right hand, takes careful notes)

In the deepest of silence 

I always walk 

Deep in thoughts, into my own created Maelstrom of Defiance

As memories of you appear slowly, like a wild moorland winter fog

Which slithers, rolls and returns

With a soft hint of a time that was truly priceless

Announced with a slight shiver, running down my spine, that burns

As the air magically fills with that so familiar pulsating scent, of Chanel N°5

That makes me wilt and pine, as all my sharpened senses, quickly come alive 

An imagination mind trick, that if I told any doctor

They would put me straight into, any asylum, with this wrap up line

"Old man, isn't it time you dropped her?"

It's usually then, that feel your presence and visually embrace 

In my mind's cathedral of memories, all those lingering thoughts and images 

Whispering like feverish crows

About everywhere, we once went

Before our descent, from the pinnacle of grace, as we got old

Especially whenever I look in our old silver mirror, and start feeling cold 

When I still see reflected, your dark eyes, looking back at me

Which carries a hint of your sweet snarl, encased within a smile. I once used to call, heaven sent. 

But when those loving sensations slowly fade

And life winds once more, blows my way

And the mind fog, stops rolling in from my mind's, Highlands

Returning me to Reality Island

Just know, my twin flame in my Eternal White Room

I still carry you and your beautiful name, to the tomb

Deep inside, wherever I go

For your husky voice always rides and rules my internal highways, whenever I smell that so loved perfume 

Like a reborn Gail 

In a New Sin City

Called The Hippocampus

A place I call too, like George Kelby Jr. 

Who once went to Cross Creek trying to find forgiveness

When Doubt calls and bills me

Whenever I try to remember

Why even after all these years, I still feel so guilty 

About there no longer being, a living tale about us

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

The Poetic Wheel

 

Have an inspiring week.

Salute.

Want something deep to carry into 2025? 

Title:

The Poetic Wheel

(A lone voice whispers)

Be courageous

For some things last forever

This is the Universal Law

Regardless of your flaws

So you must keep running or walking on the towpath of Redemption

Not towards self destruction

But towards salvation

Keep making spiritual contracts

And contacts

To meet and experience

Support

Hope

Love

Pain and even sorrow

Regardless of the hindrances

Tomorrow

For this is the norm

So, if you're reading this

With curiosities, kiss

Your higher form has already made contact

You see

It's a strange ebb and flow

For even chaos, death, and night

Doesn't last forever

This you probably already know

For we are all like faraway stars which will never fade away

Souls turning their Eternal Wheel

Powering it by our written soul contract

Under a magical seal, 

And so we must never yield 

Therefore, no matter how depressed or happy you feel

Know and keep 

Going

For there will always be someone, writing or speaking

Taking their turn,

Turning the spiritual, poetic wheel

To maybe help you heal

Souls perhaps

Like you

Experiencing 

A 

similar life

Others can sometimes, never see

(C) Copyright John Duffy

Does visiting a medium change your life perspective forever?

 

Foundation.

Does visiting a medium change your life perspective forever?

Have you visited one?

Title:

Rêves de Miss Applegate

(Dreams of Miss Applegate)

(A female voice whispers)

I can still see her 

Old Marie Laveau

Dressed in motherly blue

I can't pretend

In my scrying mirror

Looking back 

And smiling 

Summoned to haunt me 

From when I visited 

Big Mama Aurelia

Somewhere out on the water village, of the Grand Bayou

For she announced the end

Of me being single

And a time and place

Of happiness 

I still cannot see

Where I'll mingle

When the great Kamadeva, will walk in 

Like a proud Captain Jake

And 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 come see me? 

Before each winter's year ending, snow

And whisper

This year

This year, the waiting ends

Josefina

So I can celebrate the overthrow

Of another phase of living lonely in Hades

But until then

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

On my heart's beating crusade 

Looking for true love

Before I too fade away

Is this half existence 

The price you pay

When you listen to what mediums say?

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Kamadeva is the god of human love and passion, who is known to awaken carnal desires among humans.

Gabriel

 

(A lone voice whispers)

I always used to wonder

Where do Robins go to sleep

Then one dark night 

Within a deep all-consuming lucid dream

At approximately one o'clock

A beautiful deity appeared out of the mist

Wearing a blue and white coat

Holding a Lily and a shining lantern

Across its shoulder, a golden trumpet and a branch from Paradise

On its golden belt 

Hung a scepter and a silver scroll

As it strolled towards me

Within my illustrious sleeping streams

A strange palace of darkness

Where no birds 

Flew or squawked

Its mysterious ever watchful eyes

Held me firmly transfixed

Like an ethereal heavenly hawk

Its bright white orbs 

Swallowed me whole

As it whispered words

I'll remember 

Until I'm old

Within the light of day, 

We appear

Your beloved and even I

To watch over and visit you

To see and follow all that you do

When we, the blessed few

Waiting in the new spectacular bright white lights

In the glorious cathedrals of Atmos, shadowy arches

Cross over 

When allowed a brief time

Before we are eventually 

Reunited in a new form

To rejoice in hymn

Within your All Highs 

Divine Church

Depending upon 

The faith of your choice

To visit those we still 

Love

To leave a sign or sing 

A sonnet

Happily with echoes of our new voice as we too mourn 

Then in here 

At darkness

In 

The Great In-Between 

A place you all visit 

Whenever you fall asleep

In deep dreams, 

We always appear

For real spiritual shapeshifters

Like us

Never really sleep

We just transform into Robins

Through a supernatural technique

For sometimes they are merely vessels

We use

Just one of our everlasting souls keeps

So if you see one 

And it sings

Looking straight at you

Remember this

It's just a beloved loved one

Maybe even me 

Archangel Gabriel

Channelling 

Through

And with that beautiful closing line

It disappeared quietly

Back into the receding winds that whined

Of the Hidden Divine

And when I awoke at eight,

I'm sure it met me

Sat on my old garden's wooden gate

My beautiful friend

Who loves to sit on the washing line

Whispering and singing

Hello

Sending shivers and tingling

Shooting

As I remember that dream

All the way

Up and down 

My sinuous 

spine 

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

The Monologue of Saul

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Have you ever wondered if your soul is just mirrored reflections

Fragmented shards of an augmented reality

A divine kaleidoscope of your own perceived ideas 

Of what to do to get to your version of heaven, and how to avoid hell?

Overlaid onto a real-world environment

Are you too logical to ever really understand, but just bravely parading around like another human being 

Locked into a social engineer's dream

Trying to live within, and under its dark magical, mesmerising spell

Hypnotized by whatever is subliminally repeated, on your handheld screens 

Slowly waiting unconsciously, before it's too late for spiritual understanding 

To return to just you 

To truly see there's more to life than chasing paper dreams

Before you catch the last bus, to take you home to atone 

In The Great In-Between 

Where you'll be asked

Did you live a life clean life or did something happen, that was unforeseen 

That caused you to live temporarily, unclean

(C) Copyright John Duffy

The Great Halls of Eden

 

The Great Halls of Eden

(A lone voice whispers)

Walking in like the Grand Inquisitor
Tomás de Torquemada

Dressed in a dark robe

With Beethoven's “Moonlight Sonata” playing loudly in her wake

I can remember when Love brought me through a gate

To a doorway leading to her Three Castles of Rejection

Cruelty
Intolerance, and Fanaticism

And when she nearly broke me within each of those walls, she introduced me to her other Three Castles of Seduction

Through another darkly lit doorway

Ecstasy
Blissfulness and Tranquility

Such is the juxtaposition of entering her Great Halls of Eden

For those Red coloured doors within that painted room, could lead you to your sweet salvation or doom

So just be careful when you smell her sweet perfume, when she smiles, as she approaches

For once, she takes you into her Great Halls of Eden

Once you enter that oak panelled waiting room

Always remember

One day, you could be in her master bedroom

And then one day, feel the harsh bristles of her witches broom

As you soul pleads and yells

Such is the power of being under her mesmerising spell

(C) Copyright John Duffy

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