A story from Morpheus The Greek

  

Press play so the music can wash over you as you read. Salute.

Are you bored and want some random lines to read?

Thank me later.

It's raining as I look outside. 

Be safe wherever you are.

Salute.

Friday the 12th of March, 2021.

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Are we carefully scrutinized by undiscovered forces from another realm? 

Do we in the mist, live forever

Many of your types I pass daily but especially at midnight

When I sit in the edge of their bed

Have always asked

 

Even though we're all invisible

We still hear you 

As you struggle to confide in the forbidden silence

Especially in the last dregs of sunlight before dusk

Are we, immortal souls

You continuously question

What would you do with all our time

Would it drive you right out of your mind

Well, here's my answers 

Just for you to read before you turn too turn to dust

In here

This dark place known to the enlightened few as The Shadow Lands

Where I now exist and drink almond ambrosia to worship and pray alone

 

Commissioned until eternity to strive to excite lost souls 

To confess as a penance 

I've been anointed with as a chance to find a means to atone

Sacrificed deserted souls who stumble and end up my way

Through random long or short legions of their exorcisms m in red rivers of  linear poetry

Like a drunken
James Brown

I gather them around to listen to what my words truly means and say

While high on whiskey and singing 

Papa's Got A New Bag globally 

Dressed like my prototype

Good old Bob Dylan in black

When he once faced his own faithful hurricane

I sometimes entertain them by dancing wildly in a smoke-filled circle with the all-time king of pop

Michael Jackson

Whilst moon-walking in grey skies

Watched by others and the occasional falling star

My agastopia of  delicious lines grace their minds

Like a new friend I was recently introduced to

Hugh Hefner

The one famous for all those damned but hot
Playboy’s pictures

That send adolescent and immature mind's cerebral cortex's 

And libidos totally insane

I sometimes stand in the half-light 

Telling them

 I'm so strong and powerful like that Thandie Newton

The one who once found strength 

Self-worth and power

In a new Westworld 

Whilst being reborn again and again

My words are whispered enchantments you see

Spells sent just to serenade your tired bored five senses 

Filled with a crescendo of rising fire like when Marlon Brando

Embraced emancipation while causing total carnage

Death and eventual apocalypse

In Cambodia 

As he boarded that fateful flight 707 from The Seventies 

Dreaming of his girl next door he left home

Called Sophia 

Am I a sceptic like some say or just a wide-boy spectator

A majestic soother like an out-worldly philosopher 

Or just a beguiling collaborator

Can you feel me

You ought to

I am simply giving you a mixture of words

Gracing your insatiable eyes

Through cheap or expensive plastic movie screens

As I hide in the dangerous depths 

Of the twenty-first century's fast-flowing mobile streams

For I'm just a beautiful old beast

A heaven-sent narrator

Steamrolling through with lustrous glossy keys 

To all the so many wet lesser brothels of your mind

As you sit watching and casually sipping these sweet-tasting words as you read

And just like so many

 I already know 

You'll soon become gloriously addicted to my cheap bottles of poetic mead 

You see
I'm just a non-living fossil

A mesmerising essence from bygone days 

Mentioned only once  in The Great Golden Books of The Byzantine 

I celebrate on Tuesdays and Sundays 

By going knee-deep into humanities new future

MK Ultraing new intellects forever

To live just to love me

As I program them
Like an expensive computer geek

I'm a mixture of all of life's sweet-tasting 
aromas and scarred sacred baggage's

Can you feel me yet

Am I just behind you

Watching and walking

As you stride out bravely in front

Or am I standing hiding 

Just beyond sight and keeping firmly closed

All the smokey doorways to all your dreams

Can you feel me like Old Nick

One of my dearest buddies whose everlasting

God that guy loves stalking you all like an ageless Marquis

Me

I'm just a once unvisited world of beguiling words

Just conceived into being by the 

Elemental unspoken old Gods from mystical Talen

Tasked to slowly just consume your earthly time 
of three scores and if you're lucky, ten

Can you feel my bony fingers stroking those secretive rooms 

The one's barely visited 
when you're awake and drunk 

In this worlds many addictive potions

But the ones you always use your golden keys to open and visit

When you dream 
and it's then and only then

That you'll see me

As I appear before you

Dressed in blue

To stimulate your mind to carefully unwind

All those old sometimes painful threads 

And through finding your own catharsis 

The freedom to write to be free

Copyright John Duffy

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