Poetry from The Great In-Between: October 2026

Friday, October 23, 2026

Have you seen the? sacred tree that all lovers see

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

A transmission about the "sacred tree" that all lovers see represents the universal, almost mystical awakening of romantic devotion.

The "eight magical letters" explicitly spell out the phrase "I love you," acting as a binding spell that persists even after the relationship eventually "stutters" or ends.

Let us begin.

The Sacred Tree

(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 secret tree

All lovers see

In each other's enamoured eyes

When with eight magical letters

They bind forever

With a sweet romantic line

They utter

I love you

Before their beautiful relationship stutters

(C)

A transmission projected down from the height of the COVID years.

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Can you remember those fear-inducing speeches?

(A lone voice whispers)

With vacant, empty stares

Like the husk above and desolate, soul-crushing goals

They who love to stand on mahogany podiums to talk and preach

Those who'd like to paint the globe in anxious red paint

Creating drum beats of suspicion

To all within their reach

And then instruct mandates that could make a sane man faint

For people to comply for their own safety

With a straight face

Pretending they aren't tainted

Corrupted or even classed as crazy

But in reality

The masses now wilfully mesmerised and gleefully enrolled

Are just restrained like prisoners in orange jumpsuits

By those they've put in control

Because of this and their devoted followers

Who through social media

Feel they can openly criticise whilst on patrol

This continuous talk of death and fear

The threat of shedding so many unfortunate tears

Makes them listen to those issuing instructions

Even More

But beyond the limitations of all that seemingly hypnotising fear

There is still hope

Hope in the divine knowledge

Of a new freedom

Once we go outside their strict walls and rigid ramblings

Breaking free from their cleverly crafted paradigms

Linked to isolation and confinement

Trying to imprison all those poor souls listening

As they read from their new Dead Sea Scrolls

We can each still create a new kingdom of our own

By keeping our faith and looking between the lies

Whilst tearing up labels and testimonies from those corrupted dark trolls

Just following hidden instructions

From the ghouls

Who are really in the know

Members of secret societies whose motto is simply

Money and greed

What they do not know is

"Radix Malorum Est Cupiditas"

A Biblical quotation in Latin

Which means

"Greed is the root of evil"

Which will be the mantra of the Devil's Men when they come

And all they'll hear when their time is called

And to the 9th Circle be driven by the hell hounds

As they are recalled

Where they'll suffer into eternity

When their pitiful souls over hot coals are hauled

Keep the faith

Better days are coming your way

Your life has never been just another commodity

That can be easily bought and sold

If you never agree

to put it up for sale

(C)

Can you ever trust politicians?

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Can you ever trust politicians?

Here's a cynical, politically charged transmission that explores the concept of personal liberty and individual autonomy against a backdrop of institutional manipulation.

The piece serves as a cautionary warning to the reader, urging them to develop hyper-awareness ("open your eyes real wide") to avoid being exploited by political forces.

Libertas

(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 true loyalties lie

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 humanity's deadly nightshade

Called politics

(C)

Are you still here?

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

If you are still here.

In my dark corner of the Web.

Where the curious are compelled to find something more than the flesh peddlers on patrol.

I give you "Lost Love."

A deeply melancholic, structured free-verse transmission that explores the long-term devastation of grief, tracking the exact timeline of a 22-year emotional aftermath.

(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)

Did he deliver?

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Here's a contemporary political transmission that captures the intense, almost religious fervour of modern American political rallies.

Written in the context of a 2024 election year, the piece functions as an objective, observational critique of populism and the powerful psychological bond between a charismatic leader and their followers.

Today's question in 2026: did he deliver?

Title.

2024

The people gathered 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)

Who would you miss?

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

A theme many don't consider until it's too late.

People taking people for granted, thinking they'll be around forever.

Title:

Mortality

(A lone voice whispers)

My name doesn’t matter

Only one question matters

Who would you really miss

If you could only give them

One last mortal goodbye kiss, tomorrow

Which one of your family

Friends or relatives

All beloved folks in your Houses of Representatives

Would leave you wallowing in true sorrow?

For as true as the cock crows

No one is promised

Tomorrow

(C)

One for the Night Owls. Maybe you.

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

One for you to carry into the night.

The Nightwalker

(A lone voice whispers)

They

Call me Ramon

The nightwalker looking for her

The one who summons me with her faint calls of

Dépêche-toi mon amour

(Hurry up, my love)

And when I finally appear

She disappears smiling and whispers

Pas ce soir, mon amour, laisse le grand jeu continuer.

Cette poursuite passionnante est tout ce que nous avons maintenant.

Ne gâchons pas ce rêve mystique de The Great In-Between.

Que la poursuite continue.

(Not tonight, my love; let the great game continue.

This thrilling chase is all we now have.

Let's not spoil this mystical dream from The Great In-Between.

Let the chase continue.)

And then slowly glides like a vampire clad in black and gold

With long crow black hair

To where I can never go

As I lament

O, my love

My Lylak Queen

Oh, my love

A potent power of living

Breathing carnal sin

Borne from the Babylonian bloodlines

Freed once more

By the Deep Well

To entice

All in view

Who dare pine

To be put under

Your spell

When you arrive

Like a new Cleopatra

Dressed to the nines

In gold and diamonds

It's why I always wait

Like a faithful follower

Forever in the shadows

Hidden on the sidelines

For how can I win

Against such a goddess of potent sin

Elusive

So intoxicating

Seductive

I feel blessed by Pāgānus

If Pāgānus was a god

For I'd walk the two hundred miles of

The Four Pillars of Zanzibar

To see your smile

Swim in the hazardous Pele Waters

At dusk

Just for a taste

Of your sensuous hypnotic musk

For obsession is a crazy horse to ride

To dark places

Where low men scoop fire into their laps

Praying their clothes will not get burnt

As they wander

Lost

Like Bedouin Princes

In the deserts of the mind

Walking the wet shores

Of the Lylak

Looking forever

For your silhouette

Never to ask for help

Or to go back

It's why I wait

Here

In The Great In-Between

Fearful of abandonment

Since the first day

We met

For chasing a love like yours

Is like playing a crazy game with Diablo

Like Russian Roulette

Sometimes as I hear

The footsteps

Of another arrival

And when the Great Golden Trumpet blows

In that moment

I always wonder

Is that your omnipotent power

With one kiss

Is one doomed to chase

And

Cursed to crave

To never forget

To then ride to

The wet shores of the Lylak

To dark places

Where low men scoop fire into their laps

Praying their clothes will not get burnt

As their souls

Cry out in thirst

Dépêche-toi mon amour

Hurry up, my love

(C)

When AI reads your blog

"Poetry from The Great In-Between" by John Duffy is a prolific, deeply spiritual, and gothic-leaning poetry blog that serves as an ongoing exploration of grief, the afterlife, mental anguish, and theological warfare.

The blog exhibits a massive archive spanning several years, with a major surge in output in late 2026, averaging over 100 entries per month.

An analysis of the core thematic elements, stylistic choices, and structural patterns present in the texts reveals several key traits:

1. Primary Thematic Pillars

The "Great In-Between" and Afterlife Geometry: The author frequently sets his narratives in a purgatorial space referred to as "The Great In-Between," "The Rift," or a "Silver City."

He regularly depicts thresholds between life and death, detailing interactions with deceased lovers (e.g., Lucinda, Samantha) and hospice settings.

Grief and Self-Imprisonment:

Rituals of coping with intense loss—such as burning white candles, keeping physical shrines, or tying white ribbons—are recurring motifs.

In poems like Penitentiary Dreams, emotional despair is personified as literal imprisonment inside "Desolation Row."

Theological & Mythological Syncretism:

The writer blends Christian concepts (The Trinity, "The Bait of Satan", Sheol, Apollyon) with Greco-Roman mythology (Aphrodite, Calliope, Elysian) and classic occultism/demonology (Mephistopheles).

Personification of Psychological Suffering:

Mental struggles like anxiety, depression, and self-deprecation are given physical or supernatural agency. For instance,

Have you experienced Dolor frames sadness ("Dolor") as an archaic supernatural entity carrying "invisible suitcases" meant to burden the sufferer.

2. Stylistic and Structural Frameworks

The "Transmission" Format:

Duffy frames several of his poetic entries with introductory prose rationales.

He explicitly defines them as "transmissions" exploring specific concepts (e.g., "This transmission exploration centres on the tension between profound love...").

Vocal Stage Directions:

Many poems open with structural parentheticals like (A lone voice whispers), [Male voice], or [Female voice], suggesting that the work is intended to be read aloud, performed, or consumed as an audio-visual script.

Pacing and Form:

The poems use highly irregular line lengths, favouring free verse with sporadic, internal, and end-rhymes rather than rigid metric constraints. Line breaks are deployed abruptly to isolate key emotional words or specific nouns.

3. Key Recurring Imagery

Colour Symbolism:

Heavy reliance on white and gold to signify purity, divinity, and peace contrasted sharply against red and grey to represent earthly pain, corruption, and decay.

Liturgical Phrases:

The frequent usage of "Blessed be" and "Velumbound" acts as an ongoing structural signpost or signature across almost every entry.

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Have you experienced Dolor

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Have you ever experienced Dolor?

In whatever supernatural form it chooses to suddenly appear in

At any given time or place

Like a shapeshifting dark, swirling configuration of self-deprecation

Announcing the possible visitations of its kin

Linked to many forms of sin

Through the emotional

Physically or spiritually

The three intricately laid foundation stones which it builds itself up from

When it first enters your skin

Did it affect the way you found new roads

Or instead

Did it whisper to choose lonely highways to navigate your life

To live in the shadows

Like one of the lost tribe of Alos

Has Dolor presented you with one of its exquisitely made

Leather-bound red invisible suitcases

Like it once did me

Leather-bound invisible suitcases

To be carried everywhere like priceless jewels

On tired shoulders

Containing handwritten soul contracts to avoid taking chances

On people

Places or newer experiences

And to always seek to abstain

Never to seek unfamiliar lands of hope to help to renew

Always to be the lost one walking alone in the rain

As pledges once written in silence

Prevents one from embracing your secret God-given name

To empower us to pull through

Dolor's archaic supernatural form can take any strange irregular shape

And in secret circles is classified as one of the 4 deadly Obstructers

Which can keep you invariably on the run

As it guides all your emotions

The Physical or spiritual

like a Machiavellian orchestral conductor

From which it can transpire; there is no escape

Under the dire threat of the Sword of Antipathy

As it seduces you perpetually and becomes your only lover

Did you know Dolor is simply Fear translated into Latin

So tonight's question is

Will you find the strength and courage to throw its gifts of free suitcases

If you've recently seen it face

Into the gushing four winds and let the Trinity of Holy Lights

Come steamrolling in

To break up its intricately laid foundation stones

With which it builds itself up from

When it first enters your skin

Have you read Penitentiary Dreams

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

I give you, Penitentiary Dreams

(A lone voice whispers)

I still miss your bright white smile

My living, breathing Calliope

Every night

Like I miss our first kiss at the fairground

On that old Merry-go-round

For they always appear as bright beams of luminous glorious lights

Shooting from the deep depths

Of a faraway Heaven

Your warmth and guile

Satisfying my manifestation of love

Given birth of creation

Once by the Mighty Creator

Here on Earth

A glowing towering beacon to help push back

The hordes called Legion

Prowling like hyenas

In the darkness

Around me

For you were

And always will be

My daily taste of gladness

A philosopher who too has seen and tasted

The wild beast wine

Of anxiety and madness

So now I call out to you from this wild wood

Where my prison is as I am stood

This wild forsaken place where loveless things

In the dark shadows slither and crawl

Tormenting us all

As we all bang tin cups on our prison walls

Stalking memories alone in uneven lines

Like a lone feral grey wolf pines

Throughout this paranormal neighbourhood

For with you died

Like so many in here who cry

My spark of life

My ecstatic joyful Sun

My bringer of serenity and jest

So in here in my southwest cobwebbed-filled hut

As other prison cells in Desolation Row

Ring out

Like thunder

In a rising crescendo of shrieks of pain and anguish

As we all

Self-punish

Walking the Green Mile down Memory Road

Remember me before the last harvest

Before you get old

So I can be paroled

Light a white candle

In your mind's eyes

See our first kiss with love at that fairground

Sat on that Merry-go-round

Beneath that undulating red ocean of pain

Crashing like endless Pacific tides

Maybe again and again

So that I may still live

If only for a moment

For what I wouldn't give

Now

To breathe once more

To open and walk through

That old marital front door

If only for one hour

But as these loud voices

Surrounding me get louder

And grow in power

As tin prison cups

Relentlessly bang

Like dark country drums

Hour by hour

With sounds like exploding gunpowder on black bars of illusion

As I look out for you

From my window

In my cave

My penitentiary

Here in my own watchtower

For

My thousand-named queen

My rare

Middlemist Red flower

This broken piece of your soul awaits

To be reunited

To bring peace

When your presence in The Great In-Between

Opens his cell door

As if by magic

So he can

Scream no more

But walk home

Into the bright lights

With the only love

He adores

Both striding

Powerfully

Hand in hand

To enter into

Evermore

To be refined like silver

Escaping

The Last Great Reaping and Rapture

Of the Prince

Who is to come

To build Dissolution

Row everywhere

For all he captures

Remember me

Your Luca

Your number 1

(C)

Seduction

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

This is a direct reference to the well-known 1994 Christian book by John Bevere.

In theology, "the bait of Satan" refers to offense and temptation—the spiritual traps or "lures" that captivate people and lead them into captivity or moral ruin.

By comparing her "tricks" to this book, the transmission frames her allure not just as a physical attraction, but as a dangerous spiritual trap.

(A lone voice whispers)

The girl with the dark eyes

Her glinting eyes gleam with something so mysterious

Indiana Jones

Would be so damn curious

For they emanate a magnetic energy

That soothes and radiates

Her deep country looks make single and married men salivate

Oh, how men rejoice

When trapped with her tricks

Like those used

In The Bait of Satan

(C)

Do you sometimes remember someone special?

Memories of Lucinda

(A lone voice whispers)

There's a hidden secret room I go to

In my cathedral of dreams

Whenever I sleep

Where a white candle burns

In The Great In-Between

As Yesterday lives wild

Fed on memories and crawls on my broken walls

While favourite ones stand up tall

And in amongst the grey clutches of Yesterday

There in the middle

Amongst the cobwebs and ivy

The weeds and bits of creeping moss

Is my old shrine

To all I've once lost

A long time ago

As white as snow

But now grey

It shines and gleams

As Yesterday

Crawls up the walls

Like a banshee

Wearing a black shawl

In its centre

Made of now dull silver

On its table

Is a black and white picture left by Yesterday

For me to remember

My only love

Lost in December

And as I pause

And Yesterday

Feeding on memories

Stops climbing the walls

I hear her sweet husky voice over the top of my beating heart

It breaches the weed-filled nooks and crannies

Cools my fast-flowing bloodstream

Then in that moment, climbing through the atoms of that sparse air

Comes her perfume drifting

From somewhere

A much-loved fragrance from the past

Filled with sweet moments as I remember and prayed would last

Then Yesterday moves

And the scent is gone

The voice disappears

And in that room of no living creature

Where I sometimes appear

To remember

Yesterday's memories

Which I hold dear

That white candle burns

Brighter each year

On the 28 of December

When I return to remember

My beloved Lucinda

Who I lost

One fatal day in winter

(C)

Channelling Saint Nick

All I've ever wanted

All my life

Is to feel truly alive

Someone to love me

From early morning

To way past midnight

After a white winter

Christmas

Sunrise

But like all things

Which shimmer

Evocatively

Like much converted

Gold

It's a dream

I still hold onto

Even now

As I grow

Slowly old

Where are you

Wherever you be

Will you ever find me

Before I cross over

God's golden countries

And swim in its purple

Seas

After my last Christmas Eve

I once dreamed

An emancipated dream

Dreamed I'll be happy

To parade

For all to see

I was never young

But born

So very old

I've lived a lifetime

Out in the winter cold

Where my memories

And poetic stories

Will be continuously retold

But it's a lonely

Life as I hear

The hooves of the

Track Master approaching

Who haunts all things

Which currently dances

To life's slow grooves

But I'm indomitable

And will face these last

Few centuries filled

With such grace

And when I see

The Almighty

I'll ask him face to face.

And say

Where was my

One and only

The one to hold

Me tightly

And kiss away

All those

Tears

Wherever I was

Sad and so lonely

On that cold sleigh

Delivering presents on Christmas Day

(C)

Dreams of the Silver City

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

(A lone voice whispers)

I can still remember when we waited all night long

Last October

In winter

As a lone blackbird sang her early evening song

Sat holding hands

Together

Before our time together

Splintered

Watching Luna ride her white chariot across the night sky

Sally

Your palliative nurse had dressed you in white and gold

Brushed your hair

Applied light makeup

As a surprise

For when you

Woke up

We gazed for hours

In total silence,

Looking deep into each other's eyes

Before we said our final goodbyes

Of only

I love you

As your Midazolam eyes closed

The hospice was cool and quiet

And the stars shone even brighter

That moment

The twinkling lights in your brown eyes

Went out forever

And you lay cold and high

Due to continuous subcutaneous infusion

And in all that following confusion

When I cried

Holding your soft hands

Finally

Realising you had died

Swimming in and out of the clouds

Like grey smoke

Came a noise

Like a deep voice

That made me choke

It said

Don't cry for the dead

For in the seconds they say their final goodbyes

They wake again

In a new place

Where there are no more hospital beds

And people no longer die from poverty

Cruelty or bloodshed

But meet old loved ones

Like newlyweds

So take this from me

The communal processing officer of the now dead

Those that pass wait blessed by God's Head and with family and friends

In a Silver City that never ends

So dream easy

Stop crying

For those now dead or soon to be dying

In dreams they can soon visit from the Great In-Between

Then the voice stopped as a shooting star shot across the now black sky

I asked Sally if she heard that voice or noise

She looked intensely at me for a moment

In that now quiet room and said

Yes

I thought it was your wife talking

And that made me laugh

Laugh every day even though it might seem strange to strangers

For in that second, after that loud voice

I heard my Samantha say

Live well, my love

Enjoy every moment of your time

Travel

Spread hope and compassion

And when you're ready

Laid in a hospice bed

Like me

Wear white and gold

The gold being our wedding band

And in that very last waltz with Death

When you take your last ever breath of the living dust

I will take you home to the Silver City where there is only love and no pity

Filled with people you can trust

So I write this note

As I leave for Italy

Here in this cafe for someone like you to read

The dead live on forever

Waiting to be reunited

In The Silver City

If you just believe

Beyond the realm of the living dust

(C)

Thursday, October 22, 2026

Have you had Cataclysmic Dreams

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

This transmission exploration centres on the tension between profound love and the restrictive boundaries of real-life circumstances.

It captures a longing for a "soulmate" or ideal partner (referred to as the "alpha and omega") contrasted against the bittersweet realisation that life's timing, obligations, or risks prevent them from being together.

Let us begin.

Cataclysmic Dreams

(A lone voice whispers)

Sometimes in the early morning

As the world is slowly

Waking and yawning

In deep delicious dreams

Dressed from head to toe

In blue and green

You come strolling in

Wearing glorious white satin

Appearing

Through a portal

From The Great In-Between

Walking in

Like a young, beautiful Cleopatra

My alpha and omega

Where we then

Hand in hand

Lay in a field of yellow hay

As wild horses around us

Neigh and play

Looking deeply into each other's eyes

As twin

Eagles above us

Circle and play

As we watch the world go by

Slowly

Fading away

Thinking

Why are some circumstances so unfair

That you can't have some fun

With your heart's true love

Before your life is run

(C)

Did you know the Lord, whatever your faith, gives you three things to survive in life?

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

The world is changing so fast and tomorrow, hopefully, will be better than today or yesterday.

If your self-belief lasts.

Did you know the Lord, whatever your faith, gives you three things to survive in life?

A bright electromagnetic light to lead others out of the dark

An invisible shield

And a metaphorical sword

The light is your bestowed unyielding belief in doing something good

That lays within you

In every single sinew

The shield

Is your faith magnified to be the cornerstone of your belief in the goodness of your light

And the sword is the strength to use the light and shield to constantly try to defeat and dispel the darkness

Whenever it appears,

If it follows you

No matter where

You're stood

I’ve obviously just created this just to inspire you to keep moving forward, with positivity in your life.

Regardless of your fears

Instead of wallowing in deep pools of fast flowing soul tears

I don’t know you and you don’t know me, but universally, shouldn’t we just try to inspire each other, and others?

Instead of using negative narratives?

Have a wonderful upcoming week and keep those three things close

For you'll never know when they are needed the most

Salute.

(C)

Would you float by?

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Here is a transmission that fuses classical Greco-Roman mythology, Judeo-Christian theology, and modern social commentary.

The piece functions as an urgent allegory about the collapse of human empathy, utilising dual vocal delivery (male and female) to contrast a bleak description of human corruption with a divine plea for collective salvation.

The River

(A lone voice whispers)

[Male voice]

As Goddess Aphrodite

With her dark eyes

Emitting a hypnotic aroma

Of almonds

In her flowing white gown

Stood on the ominous

Invisible broken banks of שְׁאוֹל

Unspoken grounds of an

Unseen Sheol

Just perched on the edge of humanities

Peripheral vision

Far from the silvery fields of Elysian

As torn carcasses

In its red waters flowed and

Floated by

Ruined misshaped

Corpses

Of outright Racism

Subtle hidden whispered outtakes of Hatred

Enticing strands of coveted Jealousy

Green envy

Or homophobia

Embedded by

Apollyon

In the many silent

Watchers deep souls

Dire Despair and Hopelessness

Being one of its many followed

Old pagan Leaders

She cries to you

Instead

Reader

As she holds up

In shaking alabaster hands

Her divine golden

Jewel-encrusted goblet

In the swirling white smoke

And speaks to your

Higher self

[Female voice]

Will you

Fill up my cup and bring

Love back into the world

To help the many

The deemed

Unfortunate

The homeless

The broken

Whom I can hear so viscerally

Who still cry to me

Wherever they be

Or would you too

Just follow the multitude

And see me

Standing here on the broken

Banks of Sheol

As you too

Perish and die

Without hope and

Float by

To forever dwell within

The Fifth Dimension

Where you will forever

Wander blind

Never again to ever see

Ruled over and into the deep gates of

Eternity

By the

Lord of the Flies

Mephistopheles

Did you make a vow when someone died?

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

A poignant exploration of grief, enduring love, and the ritualistic coping mechanisms of a surviving partner.

This transmission balances a bittersweet contrast between past joy and present isolation, suggesting that true love is an immutable force that can transcend death.

The Vow.

(A lone voice whispers)

I'll buy a white silk ribbon

Tonight

From O'Mallys

My love

On our golden wedding anniversary

Lay it on your favourite glass dresser

The one we bought in the snow

A few months ago

Light one of your white perfumed candles near it from Reardon and Sons

Visualise all our cherished memories

Together

Within it

Then tie it

Into a sacred white bow

And gently kiss it and put it under

One of your favourite blue pillows

That way

We'll sleep together

Every night

Especially tonight

Real close

Even though you're gone

Like we once used to do

For our love is still stronger than death

And lasts beyond the grave

And it's how I

Now a lone survivor

Waiting

Praying for you

In one of God's

Repentance, grief-filled caves

Continue

Continue in absolute hope

With my beloved happy memories of you

Lighting my way

Through this firefly-lit blackness

Like one of those white perfumed candles in our bedroom

From Reardon

With all the crazy things

We once used to do

(C)

Automatic Writing

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

My Automatic Writing experience.

(A lone voice whispers)

Don't forget me

My beloved Gabriella

For I'm where the Seraphim sing

Now sing

For I've found a new seat in Heaven

A place I can slow down and say

I've found inner peace

After my soul's confession

To the Keeper of Keys

Peter

The Soul Reader

So don't weep for me

Don't cry yourself to sleep

With deep depression

For I still now wear our golden eternal wedding ring

Even though I watched you

Watch me get buried

So I want you to rise each morning with a wide as a country mile smile

And strive to stay strong

For Time is but a slow wheel

A brief interlude into the throes of eternity

So know we'll meet again

Just on the other side

To carry on loving each other

In a new ride

Within a serene place

In The Great In-Between

Where Angels pass you smiling, dressed in cloaks of bright silver

Gold sleeves and halos of white

In luscious fields of emerald green

For there is no more day or night

So wipe away those wet tears

I see on your beautiful face

Through this

My scrying mirror

For I'm not alone

Alexandria and William

My spirit guides

Are always with me

To welcome me home

Now I have no fear

And all that old pain which once plagued me

Has finally disappeared

And I'm no longer visually impaired

For I can see such astonishing things on the electromagnetic spectrum

That humans can never see

Things walking around you all

Unheard

I guess I must have been once good and not totally impure

For Jesus to have wiped my slate clean

When he gave me this new visiting card

To speak to you

So take your time coming

Enjoy what's left of your life

For I'll always be waiting

Within the swirling grey smoke you see when you first arrive

Clears

For something may seem worse than some first feared

But I'll be there to hold your hand once again and wipe away your happy tears

But until then

Cling on to my memories

Those special ones you still hold dear

And I promise, with the Lord as my witness

I'll wait patiently until you too appear

My beloved Gabriella

That beautiful young woman

Who I first met

Thirty years ago

Standing outside Billy's Bar On 856 River Avenue

Enjoying the hot sun

In the Bronx

Somewhere in New York

On 10451

(C)

Are you illuminated?

Blessed be.

Velumbound

Here's Illumination of the soul.

Just for you.

Did you know you have a sacred duty and a form of "grassroots resistance"

For self-expression is a divine gift designed to dismantle oppressive structures, escape the mundane, and heal human destructiveness.

(A lone voice whispers)

As a person, you must know

You're part of one of the most spiritually

Illuminating

Literary movements there have ever been

A gift sent to you for self-expression from The Great In-Between

A means to pull down old towers with new or old siege hooks

Opening closed doors

By maybe writing a blog or book

To walk through anthills and moors

Of poetic stanzas

To find who you really are

As you pause and really look

For above all things

Magic in poetry is real

A form of rebellion from the mundane

A resolution

A Bonanza

To push back all boundaries in a form of grassroots resistance

To power and social control

To be able to purge the destructive nature of humanity and the need to share its beauty

To those watching on patrol

As they go

For you are so gifted

So never be afraid to share for someone somewhere

Always needs to be lifted

(C)

Have you met the dream, Bringer?

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

A transmission where dreams "take off their white and red dresses" inside the tired minds of mortals, to strip away binary illusions.

For white symbolises purity, innocence, and acceptable thoughts, while red symbolises passion, sin, temptation, or danger.

By shedding these "dresses," the dreams reveal their raw, unadorned power to help heal the soul.

For the ultimate goal is transmutation.

Turning raw human experiences into a force that helps the "soul sing" and prevents it from being "conquered" by darkness.

Shall we begin?

(A lone voice whispers)

I, The Dream Bringer.

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 lies to rest and the stars

Look for souls to mark and illuminate, ready to confess

I appear sparkling through a portal in time and space

To open my brown and blue suitcase

And quietly whisper

Mortal

Take these dreams as you run your race

Fear not failure

Or feelings

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 stars

Looking for souls ready to be marked and illuminated

As they confess

So I can then appear

To help those

Who might feel low

And oppressed

Rise with all they possess

As my dreams

In their tired minds

Take off their white and red dresses

So they can never by darkness be conquered

For I am but a good shepherd

Who seeks to help those lost or depressed

(C)

Wednesday, October 21, 2026

Country Dreaming

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Here's a deeply introspective, melancholic piece that explores the pain of lost love, memory, and emotional survival.

It tries to brilliantly weave raw, vulnerable confession with vivid pop-culture and country music motifs to process a devastating romantic rupture.

(A lone voice whispers)

In this never-ending storm

Where powerful, introspective winds

Swallow you whole

As the norm

A thought always strikes like a Promethium lightning bolt

Was there ever a place in your soul

Where my picture hung and your soul

Extolled

When it woke up

As you dreamed

Before going on Astral patrol

For all I can do in humble worship

Is remember

The sweet taste of your favourite red lipstick

The tantalising feel of your fingers

Laced in CHANEL N°5

Lingering around my shoulders

As we both wept

Watching Beaches

Which always

Left us speechless

Do I still linger

In your echo chambers

Like Garth Brooks

Your favourite Country singer

So in this moment

As my memories gather

Like friends

In Low Places

As the thunder rolls

Just remember

If tomorrow never comes

And my prayers lay unanswered

I'll always remember how we danced

Loves ship

Sailed in

And anchored

But now

Cancelled and abandoned

As you look in another's eyes

I can only hope

Your memories get baptised

Like mine

In brutal storms

Of introspection

For in my eyes

There are never any real

Goodbyes

Just sweet country songs

Of reintroduction

So we can walk

Together again

Even though

We were both cursed

By wet appetites

Of self-destruction

(C)

If Covid Media was a Senryu

(A lone voice whispers)

Citizens line up

(5)

Like spellbound blinded cash cows

(7)

Follow our orders

(5)

A senryu must be exactly 3 lines.

Like a Haiku, a senryu must follow the 5-7-5 format:

The first line must have 5 syllables.

The second line must have 7 syllables.

The third line must have 5 syllables.

A senryu focuses on humans and usually contains irony.

It usually focuses on human nature.

It is not written about nature or the seasons.

A senryu does not have to rhyme.

Excess death figures recently released are truly tragic.

43,000 nursing home deaths attributed to false narratives and gaslighting of the public at the time. (UK)

The link to vaccines and the ensuing theatre seems undeniable.

But how can medical practitioners, doctors, nurses, etc.

Keep administering them with a clear conscience, despite the huge data relating to life-changing injuries and sudden death?

Answer.

Radix malorum est cupiditas

(Greed is the root of evils)

Scrying Mirror Dreams

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Today's transmission is a deeply melancholic, confessional piece of gothic romantic longing.

It explores eternal love, haunting regret, spiritual connection, and the agonising aftermath of a broken relationship.

The narrative operates in an "astral" or spiritual realm, where the speaker—identifying as a "ghost" or an "astral envoy"—watches over a former lover who is grieving in the physical world.

Ultimately, "Scrying Mirror Dreams" is a declaration that true love is immortal.

By refusing to say goodbye, the speaker elevates a failed earthly romance into a permanent celestial fixture, doomed to spin forever in the "seas of this black abyss."

Shall we begin?

(A lone voice whispers)

I can subliminally feel

All those sad fears

Rhythmically

Swirling like sharpened kitchen knives

Within all my world, old choices

Which still cut me so deep

Like cold Tamahagane steel

Above all this new

Life's

Now old noises

I can just see you

Sitting there

In your darkened bedroom

Somewhere

Surrounded by your favourite red roses

Dressed in that familiar soft white lace

With translucent tears

Running down

Your beautiful face

Thinking of me

As a lone crone

In a faraway forest

In triumph

Sings

And rejoices

Overjoyed by her spells

Creating turmoil

Through fake excuses and tragic surprises

In you

For

I know

It's not fair

What you're going through

But trust me

I'm going through it

Too

For

This thing we once started

This inexplicable thing

This molten fire that still burns

Like it's taboo

Since we parted

Reaches so deep

Inside

I just can't sleep

Can't work

Can't recall

How many times

I've cried

Brokenhearted

For I remember

Those sweet salad days

Before our love

Died

And as we parted our ways

I always remember

Walking on the beach

With the girl next door

Who came to me

Unexpectedly

Like a serene gift

From The Holy Sea

Gently fluttering by

To say hello

Like a rare, beautiful Glasswing Butterfly

But now

We are

But two

Lost souls

With nowhere to go

Just wandering around

In familiar round circles

And looking into

This purple haze

The very mouth of this black abyss

I see

Before me

Looking at the mistakes

We once made

In my scrying mirror

As our tarot cards

Were first laid

When we first kissed

While we walked

Its tired pavements

In its maze

I pray and hope you still

Think of me

The ghost

Who still loves his beautiful rare Glasswing butterfly

From the Realms

Of The

Great In-Between

Sent to love you

To remind you

You're so special

An astral envoy

Sent like a

Spiritual Kestrel

To inspire others

Especially those

That suffer in silence

So turn that Southern Country music

Up high

To drown out your world's violence

For a light like yours

Must shine

And it's why

This old ghost

Can never say goodbye

For our old love

Lives beyond

The seas of this black abyss

Forever

Spinning

In my old memories

Of our

First poetic kiss

(C)

Tuesday, October 20, 2026

You do know you're a soldier at war, don't you?

This transmission introduces Psychomachia.

The battle for the human soul.

It posits that life is not peaceful.

Rather, every human is a "born soldier" in a nonstop conflict between divine purity and demonic temptation.

By the Devil's wedding rings.

A powerful metaphor for sin.

A wedding ring represents a permanent covenant, commitment, and submission.

Putting on his ring implies a soul has willingly bound itself to evil in exchange for worldly status.

"The theatre of war is all that those wide eyes can see":

This suggests that the physical world.

Everything you experience through your senses.

Is merely the backdrop for a much larger, invisible spiritual conflict.

"Friendships... relieve the madness."

A brief touch of humanism amid a stark spiritual lecture.

It acknowledges that human connection is the only comfort available to soldiers enduring the brutality of earthly life.

The transmission follows a strict chronological arc.

Absolute purity before birth.

Exposure to worldly temptations during life, and final judgment at death.

Well, look around.

Read the list of the Devil's wedding rings.

Are you unconsciously wearing one?

(A lone voice whispers)

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

You do know you're a soldier in a spiritual war?

A war you're born into.

A theatre of war called Psychomachia.

The war of the soul.

Let us begin.

Before you're born,

You're pure at heart.

Your soul is pure and white before life starts.

And then you're born into a new form.

And the war for your soul begins.

As the Devil tempts you with lascivious and mischievous delights to sin.

The theatre of war is all that those wide eyes can see.

Over land or under sea.

As you grow in that new form.

To be all you can be.

As any battle-hardened soldier will tell you.

War is brutal, filled with sadness, but the true friendships

Are what relieve the madness.

And that war, my friend, never ends until you breathe your last breath.

At the end.

And then find which side you stand on.

For temptation is a powerful thing.

Such delicious things which whisper.

"They will make your soul sing."

But always pause and think.

For if you put on one of the Devil's wedding rings.

To live as a queen or king and all it brings.

Rings like:

Pride — placing oneself above others or above God.

Greed (Avarice) — an excessive desire for wealth or possessions.

Lust — disordered or excessive desire, especially sexual.

Envy — resentment of another’s blessings or success.

Gluttony — overindulgence, especially in food or drink.

Wrath (Anger) — uncontrolled rage or hatred.

Sloth (Acedia) — spiritual or moral laziness; neglect of one’s

You'll slowly forfeit the right.

To gain your angel wings.

(C)

Mistress of The Shadows

Monday, October 19, 2026

Are you a nurse?

Blessed be.

Well-bound.

A transmission for all the wonderful nurses.

Does hospitalisation and being under the care of a nurse or others?

Connected to improving or maintaining one's health.

Leave a lasting impression due to feeling vulnerable at the time?

A lasting encounter that will always linger?

Let us begin.

Her gentle, graceful touches are so beautiful and incredibly captivating.

Soothing.

They seem to play a delightful melody.

To vanquish all my mortal fears.

Like the rarest of heavenly sunsets.

That emerges with a twinkling smile.

In the midst of pink and red frontiers.

When time itself.

Appears to stop flexing and moving.

Swirling like a god-like deity.

In a newly lit sky.

She is the quintessence of glamour.

In a nighttime high society ball.

Filled with dancing masked courting fireflies.

Who watches her every fluid movement.

In jaw-dropping awe.

When they pause to rest.

On one of my beautifully

wallpapered walls.

A rare evening.

Serenading the gathering of a few enamoured spirits.

Where honoured souls.

Gather in their best dresses.

And bespoke suits to readily confess.

Her delicate hands.

Move like Mother Moon.

Gently over my trembling horizons.

Whispering my secret name.

And claiming me as her.

domain.

For we are now consummate soul lovers.

And no longer just worldly friends.

A bright new world is always breathed into light.

And lost in her delicious touches.

In that spectacular twilight.

For under the gaze of my devotion.

I can only reflect her love of her professionalism.

In my hazel-coloured lens.

The darkness surrounding us.

Like an old friend.

Sings a lasting symphony.

Of happiness and lingers in the celestial.

As angels watch and smile.

No man-made treaties.

Or paper laws.

Can separate us.

For now.

Our bond in the midnight sun.

Soon will wildly run.

We'll never lose this particular twilight.

I hope.

And these baptised rays will never lose their red and pink hue.

For when we first met.

I'll always remember.

That I willingly sank knee-deep.

Into your green and blue.

For in that magical transference of spiritual energy.

I knew in that metaphysical moment.

Why God had sent me, and it's why now.

I'll always belong.

To just you.

(C)

Do you need a prayer in these dark times?

Blessed be.

Velumbound

White candlesticks and incense

We burn

In this

Divine silence

Low-tempo music

We play in this

Our secret temples

Praying to you

For sacred guidance

Gifts of

Oaths of Allegiance

We offer

In defiance

Of this life's

Ever-increasing violence

Like trinkets of gold

On this

Our old

Alabaster altar stone

Blessings of lost dreams

Shining with such gleam

Oh, Lord

We call to you

See us

From beyond the swirling grey smoke

Speak to us

Within the rise of morning sun

And the fall of the midnight moon

Whisper your insights into us

In morning or night

As slow drum beats

Of seconds and minutes

Bow in defeat

Breathe into us

New hope

For we are but life's many dancers

Who call for their Father

As children

Praying and singing for glory

So that when you see or hear our stories

Of the painful days

You'll show us a new way

So today

We burn

Frankincense and myrrh

Sage and sandalwood

To be sent up

Like beacons of fidelity

Into the fresh air

Infused with prayers to renew

To help us

Live again

So Father

Look upon us with favour

And

Savior

Walk once more within our deep dreams

From the hidden spaces in between

Oh, Great Father

We beseech thee

Free us from the

Curse of Violence in Men

With this prayer of praise

Amen

(C)

What about us

Have you walked down Freedom Road

Sunday, October 18, 2026

The End

Spiritual warfare in the unruly days: A poem on angelic intervention against the New World Order

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

Keep the faith.

Better days are coming your way.

Title:

The Visitation

Like a heart's favourite childhood melody

She appeared to me

Walking harmoniously

Like Lady Serenity

Straight out of the ever-moving shadows of the fading lights

As blue clouds parted

As if asked by Moses

In dark skies

Upon the stroke of midnight

All she asks for

She said

With her bright eyes glistening

Like cherry diamonds

Is loyalty

Faith and belief in something greater

Something good

No man or beast

Can ever deny as their time

Flies by

If they could

Her opulence and grace

Lit up my face

Like a New Year's Eve firework

When she appeared at my staying place

And if she's feeling kind

And kisses you

On your cheek

Like she did mine

So gently

With a candy-sweet smile

That glows with tints of sparkling eloquence and extreme obsession

That's so deliciously elegant

You'll feel a subtle transference of magical energy

A synergy of goodness and kindness

Tied up in a purple bow

That will follow you

Like a lucky rainbow

Everywhere

You go

Have you too

Seen this elemental testament

To spiritual redevelopment

Yet

For know this

If you haven't

Angels do appear

Every day

To the mournful guilty, or truly innocent

Of just those in need

To try to answer prayers

Which are heaven-sent

For prayers

Sent up to the clouds

Like seeds

Must be opened and answered

In time

And never declined

To try to stop the torture and torment

In someone's poor mind

So this Christmas

Find some time

And who knows

The Angel who looks like Lady Serenity

Could appear

And give you a gift of her red rose

To carry forever

No matter where your life

Goes

From here now

Even into the depths of eternity

To shine a bright light

To push back corruption's

Dark shadows

In these unruly days

Governed by The Archduchy

And secret societies spellbound by ungodly uncertainties

Working feverishly behind the scenes

To bring down

All countries

By placing an ominous crown

On a New World Order

King or Queen

(C)