A Goddesses Power

 Press play as you read. Salute.

As entered my 
Secret White Room

Late last night

A place I constructed 

In the Great In-Between to relax

There
Low and behold 

On my black leather chair
Dressed all in white
Laid asleep

Was
A luscious
Shimmering form

As I approached 
Its glistening seductive shape
I saw it suddenly

Shake off its
Mesmerising alabaster cape

Before I could choose to quickly escape

It revealed
Its true inner self

She looked so luscious from head to toe
My heart whispered that now wasn't the time to go

Her raven coloured hair
And sleeping dark eyes
Whispered

Of deep and guilty
Pleasures and luscious wild places
I must be audacious
To visit

My inner thoughts sang
As my flesh adamantly cried out
And demanded that I must go on

As I approached
She stirred 
Moving in her disquieting sleep

I saw
A red sign covered in gold leaf butterflies imprinted on
The black studded chairs framework

It simply said

The Seductive One
Welcomes you

Trace your fingertips
Across her crimson
Red lips

If they taste sweet

Your soul 
She will eat

As I now gazed at
Her magnificent naked form

At a dark-haired beauty
Above all worldly
Norm

I felt adventurous
And boldly reached out

To slowly trace and follow
The contours of her
Luscious red lips

As I did so
Her mouth suddenly
Engulfed my finger 

knuckle-deep as she gyrated 
So sensuously in
Her deep sleep

Feeling braver 

I ran my other hand
Across her soft silky skin
And she responded by
Moaning

Like she demanded and needed a drop of immoral dark sin

By sucking harder and deeper
With her sharp teeth 

As they gripped my
fingertips hardening skin

Her form
 
Now moved
Undulating

Like a licentious belly-dancing
Queen

Made me wonder
What would happen now
In this 

My all-time favourite lucid deep dream

At that very moment
She suddenly rose

Her body emanated such sweet-smelling pheromones

I felt empowered to reach out and replace my finger with my hungry dark lips 

When I wrapped my
strong hands around
Her so so very soft hips

Strange music suddenly started
Playing as she whispered

Take me now over this black leather
Studded chair

A place where dark
Dreams can come true

Don't you recognise
Me yet

It's me 
Your only goddess

The one you always dream of

Sit me on that chair and kneel before me and eat all you need

Before I feed

And then only 
After that holy moment

Can we no longer
Pretend

For this 
Secret White Room
Is my lair

Just renounced to all others but you
And hidden in time

Where you can always return
And I can claim you
Again and again

As just mine

When she sat back in that 
Black leather chair

Before I took my place and kneeled

I can always remember
In that silent transmutation of sexual dark energy 

In that very moment

I knew then
What all starstruck lovers 

Regardless of gender

All silently know

Once your tongue is allowed entrance
Into loves delicious tasting fountain

Once you've had a 
Sweet luscious subtle taste

A drop of heavenly
Ambrosia

Your life with any other will just turn to dust and diminish 

Slowly blowing in the four winds and eventually going to waste

It's why I always return

After praying for sleep as the nighttime clocks 
Scattered all over the house, I keep

Approaches twelve

 
To once again see her standing naked

The Goddess I now worship 
With all that long
Crow black hair

Standing and just waiting
Before sitting back down into that black leather studded chair

And demanding
I have another taste
So she can feed

In these milliseconds as I pray for sleep

Before I begin to satisfy all her dark desires
And unspoken needs in that secret white room

I know deep down
What all her other slaves know and hidden keep

She now has total power

Power 

Total power over me

Copyright John Duffy

A dash of sensuous energy on a windy cold day in the UK. Salute.

Sad Monday Blues

 

I went for a cleansing ceremony a few weeks ago, 

As I've felt the presence of a negative energy stalking me as I slept.

So after I spoke to someone in the know.

Here's the story of that particular show. 

-------------

After entering the Mage's dimly lit

Incense filled

Smoky room, 

he immediately said a dark shadow 

Invisible to the human eye

Had followed me in 

And to sit down on the black leather chair 

Beside the white bowl

When he splashed some holy water around me,

In a wide circle

Some of the drops fizzled with rage, I swear.

And after leaving with a blessing of secret incantations, 

I am sworn to not to repeat anywhere 

He said I am stalked by a lost soul from the Dark Valleys.

From the Lower Levels

And I should stop any contact with their living families

 If I had any and gradually things will return to normal.

He said no matter what they seek to do, say or write

I should ignore their attention-seeking stories or plights

For they are just another dark rite 

Conjured

Maybe with others in the middle of the night 

For they are but Archons in disguise 

Who simply want to feed off my negative energy

Caused by their lies

He ended with these lines.

Thomas. 

Just pray for them and that they may with new courage, 

Still seek the Lord's light and he, The Almighty,

May welcome them back and absolve their many hidden sins.

Therefore, 

As I mourn for the loss of someone lost forever to me as I return from their funeral today, 

And having to deal with this negativity, I feel.

All I can offer is my prayers that you

The lost soul from the Dark Valleys.

 See the light 

And leave the darkness 

For I forgive you.

For true forgiveness is real

For it's a gift that no one can ever steal

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy via Pinterest. 

Marys whispers

Press before you read.

Salute.

(A lone voice whispers.)

Whenever I pause

In these tranquil quiet 

Moments 

In here

To think about all those 

Long nights 

We once walked by the 

Hawaiian blue sea

I still get drenched by the 

Sweetest thoughts 

Of you and me

Memories of a fierce love 

Which shone high above 

The hot yellow city lights

Of a time we held hands 

And everything seemed to 

Be alright 

But like a pale white 

Vulnerable feather

Blowing in the 

Four Winds

I then always remember how 

You surrendered to temptation

And like an act from the 

Devils favorite playbook

Our love was viciously ripped 

From our cross

To be tragically forgotten 

And by so many others

Casually dismembered 

With no chance of 

Redemption

Now I guess 

We're like 

Two depressing 

Characters from a 

Dystopian play called

Twelfth Night

A rotten 

Shakespearean Play

No one cares about 

Or wants to even 

Remember

But I'll still treasure and 

Carry those memories

Of footsteps walking by the

Hawaiian blue sea

Where I got drenched and 

Soaking wet by the 

Sweetest thoughts 

Of just you and me

Memories of a fierce love

 

Which still shines so high 

Above the hot yellow city 

Lights

Of a time we once held 

Hands 

And the future seemed so 

Bright

Of memories of us entwining  

To make love

To keep warm throughout 

All those cold but soul-thrilling 

December 

Winters nights

For the real treasures in life isn't the material or commercial 

 But simply the spiritual 

Copyright John Duffy 

 

The Midnight Monologue

 

Is poetry a dying artform

Does this new generation just want images and memes

To be their new norm

Don't they know the beauty of creating a thing

That might be emotionally worn

A beautiful invisible locket  

That may help them find catharsis

And through  

PoetryGenesis

To truly transform

___________________

In fifty or a hundred years.

Will poetry simply be a mystical art form?

Known only to shamans and mystics 

As the current society kneels before unusual and insidious technology

For just about everything?

Will the new generations, be less inclined to create thoughts onto paper, or just so somewhere? 

Will the repeated vaccination cycles, potentially dum them down, so the burning passions in their soul, can never speak?

Will a technocrat's dream of a neverending dystopia

Lull them to sleep

To keep them in servitude and neverending bondage to be perpetually weak 

Serving the Matrix in a blinded hypnotised unconscious form of submission 

Copyright John Duffy

Foreshadowing 2021

It's January the 12th, what will the year bring?

Will the 20th, bring carnage or a peaceful transition?

With all the swirling political, and human issues, surrounding recent events in the USA and the many covid related events, how will 2021 end?

Will it be a year for freedom or tyranny?

Press play.

Salute.

 Narrated by the super-talented,  Clinton R.  Johnson. 

Peter. The Keeper of Keys.

Press play and let the emotional music wash over you as you read.

Salute.

Some may call me a charlatan

A new reborn follower of a King 

From somewhere totally

Glorious

It's so Cosmopolitan

A seducer of fragile minds

Who might choose to hold me upright

 

As I baptised another poor sinner 

And try to bring an end to all their tragedies 

Solidified in written oxygen

Whatever the consequence  

But my message is simply this

Try to live for happiness and a loving muse

Paint touching emotional pictures through stories

Photographs

Music or poetry 

Using them as your own golden lyre

And then lay them gently in green fields and upon velvety avenues

So those who want to read them 

Can never ever be refused

Try not to lament old age 

As it tries to freeze your spiritually youthful body 

in those dark moments of living

For it's forever deemed to be so beautiful and lithe

With a profound strength 

To swim through tributaries 

of anxiety which may seem so unforgiving

From all that red pain to eventually finding 

newer beginnings

Your heart may seem heavy 

and you might lose hope and feel all emotions

Linked to losing happiness or love 

But look me in these eyes

Watching you

 

Within these words 

and be lifted up in Dawn’s 

rose-flushed arms 

To truly live

Then look into life’s deep silvery mirrors

and always remember

You have so much more 

To still give

So just know when that grieving whistle blows

When that hope of love
seems to disappear at night

 

When the darkness appears

 I’ll be always here
To hold you

Some may call me a charlatan

A new reborn follower of a King 

From somewhere totally

Glorious

It's so Cosmopolitan

A seducer of fragile minds

Who might choose to hold me upright

 

As I baptised another poor sinner 

And try to bring an end to all their tragedies 

Solidified in written oxygen

Whatever the consequence

But my message is simply this

Will you let these words breathe through you

And calm the storm inside

As I try to keep your fire alight

Throughout all these upcoming dark nights

For I hold all the keys 

To the Kingdom and one day 

I hope and pray

 I'll let you in 

When your astral eyes open and

Me 

You'll see

 

Copyright John Duffy

The Spotify Experience

An exploration of music and poetry. 

Narrated by Clinton R. Johnson from Canada. 

It's rather surprising how far words can reach. 

Salute. 

A couple of the artists on my bio are unknown. A strange Spotify algorithm. 

Click this link to visit Spotify. Salute

The voice of Raphael

 The voice of Raphael

Press play and let the emotional music wash over you as you read. Salute. 

The voice of Raphael 

(A lone voice whispers)

I'm a hidden mercenary

An angel 

A bringer of the 

Purple Flame

Often seen 

As a young man

Carrying a staff

But I'm just 

A tollkeeper 

And opener of occult doorways 

To secretive places from 

The Great In-Between 

Held in the 

Great Pagan 

Books 

Of so many 

Names

One of the ancient inhabitants 

Forever reborn 

An original citizen

of a lost faraway world 

A holy city

Beyond the Great Veil

The Gatekeeper is just my magical occult sigil

Say my invocation spell three times 

And I'll appear 

To help you materialise those dark dreams of love

Or wealth 

You hold dear

It's that simple

O' Ancient One

Great Gatekeeper 

from beyond the 

Great Shadows

Hear my call and come hither forth

O' Ancient One

From beyond the Great Shadows

Hear my call and come visit me

whilst I dream 

Riding upon your great white horse

O' Blessed Be

O' Ancient One

Great Gatekeeper from beyond the

Great Shadows

Hear my call and come hither forth

Did you do it

The look in your eyes says yes

If you really confess

For I'll be visiting you

Tonight

In the low hours

Just after 

Midnight 

So mote it be

If God will allow 

Us

Copyright John Duffy