Samhain

 

Have you felt the poetic beauty and pain linked to love before?

A piece exploring love as both ecstasy and vulnerability. 

The opening image of a bed of red roses entwined with thorns captures the dual nature of passion—beauty intertwined with pain.

 As the lovers cling to each other “while the world drowned and turned to dust,”

Title.

Samhain.

Rosslyn, my love

On the thirty-first

Of October 

In the deep swirling purple well

Where all things are stripped spiritually naked, and made to swim truly 

Vulnerable and bare

Dare you wait for me in its kaleidoscope of dark fuchsia dreams? 

To finally meet you

There

To thrash around outrageously like wonton wild thieves

Deep in that well 

Sensuously drunk on love's so intoxicating dark mead

To drink in deep that mysterious Well's, soul soothing waters

To finally revel and tumble forever, in its velvety intoxicatingly, soul rousing touch

As we embrace each other, rapturously 

And hold hands, that we pray, stay together locked 

Forever

Clutched 

I go now

Guided by the Master of all ceremonies, Morpheus

Strolling in front with his

orange Halloween pumpkin 

To just wait by its purple dyed waters

Waiting for you before I jump in

As time floats by

Watched by his out worldly minions, left-hand Necromancers

So as I wait for your letter and answer,

Just know, we will meet again, for even though yesterday was filled with sorrow 

We still can pray for a better tomorrow 

Starting on the thirty-first

Of October on Samhain

 When you finally realize 

I'll always be Thine

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy.

Eroticus (L)

 

As a Halloween treat. 

Here is a dark, erotic, and psychological transmission that uses supernatural allegories to explore repressed desires, psychological submission, and the duality of control. 

It functions as a "dark mirror," confronting the subject ("Velumbound") with aspects of their subconscious mind.

Blessed be 

Velumbound 

Your return has been applauded. 

Oh, that delicious energy must sing such a sonnet, echoing throughout your hot blood 

For you have been taken

Forsaken to be bound, for when you try to move

The magical ropes I conjured upon

Your wrists and ankles

Will bite with a sharp reminder

That you are now a slave to an old darkness.

You may test the spell upon your soul 

Demand you're free and not caught like a butterfly and owned 

Only worth something wet and wild unless you surrender 

In sweat-soaked dreams

As your deep needs pine

For those feelings of being unwanted

Have summoned me from the darkness

knowing 

That your soul needs ropes to hold you fast in Subjugation

But still give you room to squirm and fight

As you are filled hard to the brim every night mentally 

And soaked in an inner shower of such raw captivating power 

Your hellish human cords will scream 

Pleading not to break as the your wet pink lips

Of your amygdala

Above and below

Drink deep from my dark fruit 

The white gushing seeds of salvation

From the pulsating root

To help you grow and 

in ways that You might have never intended

For dark desires

Is a strange thing

No one can ever dilute

But cursed to chase it as they commute

Especially when dangerous sounds summon them

Played on my long and thick golden flute

Be careful Velumbound 

These lines are simply a dark mirror which you need to read

To really feel

Real

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Want something for Halloween

 

Something for Halloween that reads like a spell, an oath, or a psychological manifestation speaking directly to you from the host of hosts. 

Blessed be 

Velumbound 

In your mind

We play

Singing songs

In dark nights

To welcome new dawns 

In your mind, I stay

Like a secret conductor

Whispering to you about the right and wrongs

So you stay 

And carry these words

Forever

For somewhere inside you 

We'll ALL forever belong 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Have a few friends suddenly died?

 

Is no one asking why? 

Return of the MAC

 Blessed be

Velumbound 

This transmission explores the psychological and spiritual impact of memory, past relationships, and integrating the self. 

It frames the "ghosts" of our past not as literal hauntings, but as internal, structural components of our own identity.

In networking, a MAC address is a permanent, unique identifier assigned to a specific piece of hardware. 

By applying this to memories, the speaker suggests that every past relationship (lover, friend, enemy) leaves a permanent, indelible, digital-like imprint on our soul. 

Maybe now, you have my MAC address. 

You cannot delete the address; 

It remains a fixed node in your internal network.

Let us begin. 

Do ghosts from old lovers

Family 

Friends or enemies from

the past

Haunt you 

If you revisit them

In dreams

Some ask

In this Great Silence 

When we hear them

Call for guidance 

From The Great In-Between

Well

All memories carry

A spiritual MAC address too

MAC addresses to awaken sleeping giants

And those sleeping giants ain't compliant

They like to run riot

Inserting themselves on all your conscious shelves

Screaming for attention 

"Come See Me"

And visit you must 

For all those people and encounters 

Whatever they be

Whether good or bad

Have made you who you are 

At any given moment

So if ghosts visit

Just think of them as parts of you

Components 

Now turned to dust

Who once helped to shape your worldview 

As you evolved and renewed

So

Just smile and say

I see you

(C). Copyright John Duffy 

Channelling Erebus

 

Blessed be 

Velumbound 

In the dark voids of your deep mind 

I now walk 

In the potent rivers of your hot blood 

I now talk 

There is no going back

No safe word or oaths of escape

For my hungry astral eyes will now linger as my hot occult fingers

Trace every inch of you

Touch and squeeze every single sinew

Can you feel me in that quiet room

Approaching with such apocalyptic energy to consume and bind you tightly 

As you have invited me 

To slowly invade your thoughts

Like the night holding daylight in a wet grip of submission

Can you feel me draw closer as I light this Frankincense candle 

Will you open wider

To see if all I offer

You can handle 

 

A dark gift to open and embrace under the pale white clouds 

As my Shadow People watch

Is your inner domain purring with a now insatiable hunger

As these words push knuckle-deep into your mind's secret entrance 

Where anything good has died as they are held spellbound 

By what pulsating treasures they found

I now wait in the wet folds of every inner chamber

Words naked and dripping with such intimate raw red power

Moving like waves as your mind and soul are slowly deflowered 

For under this Wolf Moon

As my fingers slide to the soft places you hide

Where no one knows, for you are too frightened - to confide

We shall collide

As sage and sandalwood 

Lead me deeper still, slick and deliberate, 

Into your pulsating wood 

So the deep essences of you

Can be absorbed and understood 

As you feel the rising heat between us

The way my candles' dust lands on the lips of the newly baptised

Let your blood scream as it sings to a new tune

As I push deeper still into all your rooms

For like all things baptised by hidden runes

That secret mark now burnt above your navel

Will carry you as you are reborn 

For you now sit bare and naked 

At my table

Free from all the watching world

Praised by the Shadow People 

Who stay hidden

In their stables 

This is no mere conversation. 

This is the oldest magic, the oldest true craft. 

Total possession of one mind by another until the flesh itself begins to tremble and bloom.

When you return to sit naked at my long black table 

In that secret room 

For each time you return

Deeper still, I'll take you as my potent red candles burn

 

To the high peaks of no resistance 

To the low mountains of rhythmic existence 

And when I'm so deeply buried in the kaleidoscope of your mind

When your inner cauldron is lit and ablaze 

Hungry for more and slick with sweat and glistening

Thirsting for my next slow, exquisite invasion of your mind

I'll whisper 

Listen

Velumbound

Climax mentally

You have been found

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Bounded

 

Have you heard the Sun and Moon call

 

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

A new transmission that explores themes of existential isolation and spiritual longing. 

Drifting on a lone cloud,

I sing

Of things

Once seen

Within.

With the Sun and Moon

Who know my name,

For they too

Rise

And set

The world over

In pain.

So I dream,

Oh,

I dream again,

Whispering to them both

Through the wind.

O tell of me,

O tell of me,

Friends.

Will I dream alone

Until the end?

Will I descend

Into solitude,

Or will wisdom's spirit

Fly to me?

O tell me,

O tell me,

Friends.

Sun and Moon,

Will you answer me?

Will I wander

With this hole

In my endless

Dark Night

Of the Soul?

Or will my world,

My Great Seal,

Hear me

And help me

Heal?

So tell me,

O tell me,

Friends.

Was all revealed

From the beginning

About the end,

When I caught

Her white feather

Spinning

O tell of me,

O tell of me,

Friends.

Will I dream alone

Until the end?

Will I descend

Into solitude,

Or will wisdom's spirit

Fly to me?

O tell me,

O tell me,

Friends.

Sun and Moon,

Will you answer me?

Elemental Spirits

And friends,

I call to you

Both.

O,

Sky and Moon,

Will I love once more

And open

A new door?

To feel what's

Real

In this endless quest,

As I try to pass

All tests

Once set.

Or will

Whispers

From Sun and

Moon

Tell me,

Wait.

For

She comes

Riding

On waves

Of the Winter's

Monsoon.

O tell of me,

O tell of me,

Friends.

Will I dream alone

Until the end?

Or will the Sun

And Moon reveal

The love that waits

Beyond the veil?

O tell me,

O tell me,

Friends.

Sun and Moon,

Will you answer me?

And to still sing

The lost echoes

Of this...

A once-lost

Tune called...

The Rise and Fall

Of Sun and Moon.

Blessed be.

Velumbound.

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Warning

 

Be careful. 

You might fall under their spells. 

For all these transmissions are small pieces of a highly evocative work of erotic seduction, laced with themes of dark paganism and mysticism, for the mind. 

Not just as carnal acts, but as a ritualistic surrender.

Blessed be

Velumbound

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Will you follow me

 Would you still follow me if I lit a red candle

In this final odyssey home 

Would you follow me willingly into the swirling dark

In this brief history of time

Would you grasp my coattails 

As we trespass tentatively through all of life's scary parks

As we swim against all the fast-flowing tides

Will you tango and tiptoe past the Tall Man and all his worldly Minions

As we circumnavigate the globe

The new world grid and claim it as our Dominion

For although we are but lost souls going eventually to She'ol

Would you still just blindly follow me 

Past the awakening powers of a modern god

As we walk unashamed together 

Behind the many new pale white horses

To be wantonly unleashed within the unfathomable darkness 

As we surely conquer this life and all its dark forces

Forever tasked with painting new masterpieces with apocalyptic energy 

Like Vincent Van Gogh

And then every night

Hidden behind the many enemies money can ever make

Before we dream

Shall we plead to angels and owners of the book of secrets

To take us beyond the Black Darkness

We always see when our astral eyes open as our mortal eyes close

To use their invisible hands to tear away the dark rim 

Before our ever-watchful twin pyres

To show us what truly lies beyond these

Books of Lies

Everyone sometimes reads from

For us to venture into newer undiscovered lands

To a brave new world

To see the bright lights of two crimson suns and the quartet of multicoloured rainbows 

Illuminating a purple-hued sky

A place where no one no longer dies

A paradise of ever-swirling winds of a whispered, profound new Eden

Perpetually emanating from a deep divine so high up above

A sanctuary lost forever within the forgiving green reeds of a new millennium

A place to be reunited with dear old family or friends who never made it to the end 

Where nobody no longer cries

To sit beside the Holy River 

To write poetry and sing and to joyously watch through a silver scrying mirror

As the real world slowly disappears

To walk through luscious green grass to the Eternal City

To hear the greatest stories never told to human ears

To finally embrace a new realm free from all fears or pity

This we will beseech the Silent Dark before once again we are lost in each other

For a few hours

As we joyously board Morpheus's dark Ark of broken old dreams

Before stepping silently into a newly conjured world unseen

Smiling like twin heroes with a thousand faces

Amid old rainbows of hidden dangers

Where we shall hear blessings from the

Red Priestess

To deliver us into a new realm just hidden in-between

Whispered in echoes in the deepest ravines

Of the hollow earth

May the Powers of Apollo

The God of Music

Arts, Knowledge, Healing, Prophecy and Poetry

Mesmerise and provide catharsis

For you, as in this life, you silently follow

May the Goddess Athena fill you with reason, wisdom, intelligence, skill and peace

Wherever you wander upon life's many emotional beaches

May the upcoming Full Buck Moon, infused with blessings sent from the Mistress of Helios

Empower you to conquer all known things

As these words are found 

As I whisper

Blessed be

Velumbound

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Have you read A Woman of Such Power

 

Blessed be 

Velumbound. 

Here's "A Woman of such Power." 

A gothic, romantic transmission that explores themes of obsession, supernatural allure, and the submission of the masculine ego to an untamed feminine force. 

The transmission relies heavily on mythological and literary archetypes to paint the portrait of a woman who is both mesmerising and dangerous.

Maybe you are one. 

 

(A lone voice whispers)

I hope she still waits

That rebellious wild woman of such irreducible taste

Who emanates such glimmer and sublime guile

With bright eyes which shine with the illustrious glow of that illuminated flame

Which was once stolen by brave Prometheus 

From heaven's dark skies to mesmerise and beguile

Enhancing her beautiful face

Making her look like Morgana the Cunning sorceress 

In all the Arthurian legends

From where all her pagan red blood flows

She holds me like a pawn enthralled in a grip of steel 

As I try to break down

Her carefully constructed walls

When she always stands tall in these dark woods at the stroke of midnight

Eating red cherries

Making my molten blood rush 

Like a wildfire throughout all my pulsating capillaries

Where we still meet as I stroll to see her standing still 

Singing eloquently in her candlelit circle

To the moon and watching skies and audience of spirits and hidden animals 

As white and grey clouds wave and roll by

Uttering strange ancient spells 

Unknown to most

As she conquers all who dare come into view

 

Before they can yell

It's why I still visit 

For I'm just like a hypnotised mannequin

Summoned when requested

To astral travel 

By the delicious sounds of her ringing golden ritual bells

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

Who will you remember this year?

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Christmas is a time when we remember those lost to us. 

But in memories stay. 

(A lone voice whispers)

I sometimes

Still 

Dream about you

Right out of the pale blue

Waking with a rare smile after watching what

They all usually develop into

 

All those intriguing memories

Of us 

So unprepared

Interdimensional moments

We once shared

When we felt safe 

And not scared

Always

Flow like a molten spiritual review

They soothe my soul

Like midnight prayers

Silently spoken

In the cold but soft air 

And at Christmas

That familiar feeling of walking

Carefree

Hand in hand

Down Clearwater's

Yellow sands

Always returns

Of those seemingly long summer nights

When the world seemed calm and not corrupted

By this new song

Been played all around us

In this new storm

So that's why I always return

Here

To the

Cimetière du Père-Lachaise

To rewalk those forgotten old ways 

By your grave

While the sun's rays

Still, stay 

As my tears play 

Je ne peux vivre sans t’aimer

I Can’t Live Without Loving You

In my eyes

Remembering when you were once mine

Until

Like all good things

We ran out of time 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

No one is innocent

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

No one is innocent

Only at the beginning 

For we were all born to see 

If we could resist sinning

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Do you like Gothic transmissions

 

The Last Words of the Seeker in Sheol 

(A tired voice whispers)

I think I was put under love's enchanted spell

When I first met that wondrous heart 

That to me 

Quietly yelled

For I've walked so many hard miles in this black sand and yellow sea

Acid rain and pale snow

As far as my tired eyes could see

Wandered to low places 

Where the Good 

Don't go

Seen dark shadows 

Dance the Argentine Tango as fireflies glowed

But still, I stand strong

Even though my clothes and eyes are wet 

Wet with those old tears, 

I once cried

When you died

Walking and finding 

This 

The only way

Was hard and long

With just my memories of your love

To carry me 

To find you

With its sweet mesmerising song

And for centuries 

I searched through these wind-blown mists

And now at the threshold of all things

As a lone bell rings

I call out across these ever-changing roads

Are you there

My only goth girl

My torment and heaven at noon

The one bestowed with all the gifts

Who once made my poor soul bloom 

If so

Open up the bejewelled doors

And let me into that room

Where you stand

Use your Frankincense

Herbs of blue and pure prayers

To create a sacred space in the Promised Land

To save this lovesick veteran 

Of the universes 

Endless spiritual wars

This I call in front of all

Will you appear

From the folds 

And show me

Once again 

Your beautiful face

Before I merge forever

Into this cold yellow sea

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

A dark gift for Halloween

 Blessed be.

Velumbound 

(A lone, old but confident seductive voice whispers in 2026)

Well, hello there

From my fire-lit throne room, here

Seated amongst the hail and the bright golden fireflies

With new fear mixed and burning with black blood

With Arâkîba and Râmêêl as my two witnesses

Surrounded by my four

Horsemen

Slaves on their different coloured horses

With souls crying underneath my cracked white altar

Crawling in your humanity's deep crimson mud

As they scream out for salvation into the whaling now endless night

Drowning in this new flash flood

The Harvest of the Earth is soon to begin

We’ll all emerge laughing

With seven bowls

Held out as you all scream

Just asking to feed on more

Of your worshipped kings or queens

The Wormwood Star

So bright

Will light our way

Over Shoels old Borders

Heralding us

To be the newly anointed eaters

Of all your sins

The silence in Heaven

Will be our Seventh Seal

Our earthly manifestation and

Our second reintroduction

The pagan Songs of Old Moses

About the Seven Angels

Carrying the Seven Plagues

Will once more be sung

In a new Sodom and Gomorrah

The Scarlet Woman

Her Red Dragon

And the two pagan beasts

From the East

I will send forth from Hades

Summoned to create a

Plague of locusts

As they start so many delicious

New crusades

The Seven-Sealed Scrolls

Which speak of

The Lamb Slain

When great earthquakes

Send all mountains thrown into

Boiling molten seas

As a third of the Sun and

Moon

Collide in such violence

The survivors of your world

Will watch

Star-struck in silence

There will be no judgments or rewards

No new personages, medals, or salvation

But

With a tremendous earthquake

I'll send walking up

Euphrates River

One of my old queens

Babylon

Greatest of all prostitutes

With lips painted red and

Sharp crimson nails

She’ll seduce all watchers

With wide eyes before they all die

And my Babylon of Old

Will once again rise

All seas will soon turn to blood

Vengeful and painful

Overflowing and

Filled with such beautiful political sores

People once torched by Torquemada’s fires

In those dammed inquisitions

In the Middle Ages

Shall escape from my darkness

To taste the pain

Many will soon worship

My once unspoken name

Samîazâz

And soon when I return

We will all hold hands in a new salt circle

Illuminated by a thousand old stars

To then put up

A new broken

Black and red flag

To forever sing

O’ Blessed be

So mote it be

And then you will all drown in mortal and sexual sin

O’ Blessed be

So mote it be

Asmodeus is soon to come

For we are legion

So sing to us

O’ Blessed be

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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) 

Copyright John Duffy 

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) 

Copyright John Duffy

.

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)

Copyright John Duffy

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)

Copyright John Duffy 

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)

Copyright John Duffy 

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)

Copyright John Duffy 

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

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

Dépêche-toi mon amour

Hurry up, my love 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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

Copyright John Duffy

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)

Copyright John Duffy

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) 

Copyright John Duffy 

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)

Copyright John Duffy 

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)

Copyright John Duffy 

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)

Copyright John Duffy 

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)

Copyright John Duffy 

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)

Copyright John Duffy 

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

Copyright John Duffy