What if Gloria Gaynor wrote poetry

 

Press play. Salute.

This thirst has been sated now that I’ve seen you've tarnished all my old memories

So you may now fade to reappear wherever you go

Since I'm now ephemeral

 

This place we once shared has lost its feel

Turn away your blue eyes

 

For I no longer in submission kneel

Seek not to know what in here may lie

For that once precious thing has now withered and died

 

Look instead to your own life

Step bravely forward not in woe

And let your first steps not be slow

Show me no mercy to going forward as you have already shown

As they carry you to newer plateaus

When those old winds of gossip did blow

 

Worry for me not for I am sweetly wise

I instead look for words of hope and sing blissfully to newer tender skies

Our once loved emotions now no longer lay in state

As the funeral lies cold and un-mourners silently gather to celebrate

 

This I know as I was told as I finally closed our gate

But what they cannot comprehend

About this cat with nine lives

All the gossips and the un-friends

Whenever one rose petal drifts from Aphrodite’s tree

 

To fall and slowly hit the cold ground
And wither into ruins to never bloom as before
 

Another one called to me before it hit the floor

Courtship can once more lift her lovely head

 

For true love and beauty can still be found

Just not by the judgemental 
The gossips or the living dead

But only those souls who wilfully sing

Did you think I'd crumble?

I will survive

 

Copyright John Duffy

 

Monologue of the Traveller between Countries

Press plays as you read. Salute.

I still when I'm out

Just look for you to dance with on any dancefloor 

No matter how full they all seem with the fake shallow

Beautiful look at me ones

Even after all these years 

Since you've been gone

I may now be forced to watch the pitiful lonely early sunrise

All alone on cold Sunday mornings 

Now that no one comes looking for me or my beloved wife and beautiful baby son

Who just loved to cry for me and I can still hear his sweet voice calling

I may lose some badly needed hope and dreams of salvation even though I've crossed difficult seas and walked countless miles 

Across so many nations

But with everything lately seeming so lost and out of control

The fear of loneliness may follow me around and stalk the very fabric of my soul as I walk

But I'll still speak to you both about our wedding photographs

The only things to remind me of you both 

Before the soldiers knocked on your mother's door and you left 

Treating you both and all the others like animal stock

Those photographs are the ones I'll always love and cling onto before God dug me this ungodly hole 

I'll always remember the only two people who seemed to really understand all my pain

My two incredible shelters from the storm who I once proudly stood with in the falling rain

I may not know where you both are 

Now that God's took you away to his secret hideaway

A place I pray you can watch the birds and our son can now grow free as he plays

A place where there's no separation by race religion or wealth

A place where money doesn't decide the level of your health

I'll never love any others like you two from now until oblivion 

I just know deep down 

That'll we'll meet again when I too must go into the cold ground

For no one else can ever take your places

For these painfully stinging emotions can never be unwound 

No matter who they're presented with or how beautiful their faces

You'll always be my two-midnight wishes

Special people who I'll never be able to resist 

We may be apart 

But in here 

In this secret special red room 

I keep hidden in my beating heart

We'll always be together 

For in there

My beating chest

We'll always be the apex of any and all of Michelangelo's

Priceless works of art

Copyright John Duffy

Inspired by a recent sad program I watched. 

The darkness seems to be growing every day.

Do you still believe someone will return to save us? 

(I hope so. Good night)

If JFK could speak, what would he say about 2021?

 

As I view the world from in here

It just fills me with a sense of ever-growing fear

I can see so much suffering
And seemingly endless pain

The world is awash in the throes of all those
Who are just corrupt

Blindly trying to secure
All they can gain

They need to be stopped
To be defeated by the rising consciousness
Of a reunited and renewed humanity

Don’t let your planet
Go to waste
It’s never too late

Look at Fukushima
The rising levels of destitution

Racism and cleverly conjured up means leading to separation
Secret societies
Human traffickers  
The homeless numbers rising

The endless lines of the hungry and the poor

For if you all
Don’t rise and do more

The Four Horsemen from the Bible
Will just ride in
And
Stand in full view

In every country
Political pews

To control all corrupt
Governments black and white
Dance floors

All this talk of vaccines and covid nineteen
Covertly funded marches and bankrolled doctors and politicians
Who are all part of that deep state infernal machine

Your world
Needs the means to breathe

Don’t be one of the many
Who turns a blind eye
And when it all turns black

Don’t be one of the many
Like those already in here

Don’t give you soul
Another reason to grieve

Fight for a new freedom
Give your life a reason

For to change the future
You just have to believe in the Great Awakening
Go back to my speeches in the Sixties

They were just the beginning 

(I have a much longer script for this. I may make it into a short film one day)

I wrote this script for a monologue last year. This is only a small segment but still seems even more powerful today as I read it again. Salute.

Did you know Love will come when she's ready?

Relaxing on a rather quiet Sunday listening to Clinton R Johnson narrate a few old pieces.

Just editing a new compilation of prose. I might invite him to narrate once again. 

The film I was so invested in has been currently sidelined. Considering starting a Midnight Monologue Club up, online for talented actors. Reading my works of course. Who else would I choose! (Huge smile!) Have a great day!

 

Are you at a loose end and want to listen to a supernatural story?

 An intriguing short story that lasts for just over four minutes. 

Press play. 

Narrated by the talented, Clinton R Johnson from Canada.

A short clip from one of my audio-books.

The link is below. Just click it.

Salute.

Mirrorland: Journey into the Astral Realms: Poems, Inspirations, and the Spiritual

The second audio-book is a story of life beyond the veil. The dearly departed can always visit us. We only have to remember.

The GoIden Thread

Just start the free Audible trial to listen for free and make sure you cancel before the 30 days is up. If you wish to do so.  

Memoirs from the Book of Secrets

Have you ever looked deep

Into the mirror

 

And wondered if you've really

Done enough

Left something tangible

Something future

 

Generations can listen

See or read through

And make a fuss

 

A legacy of your vision or dreams

Stories they maybe can trace

Through a time

 

When you were once young

And free

 

Chasing life

Filled with deep dreams

 

Or drunk and lucid

Spilling stories whilst licked up

On Loves delicious red wine

 

What do you see

When you look really deep

 

Into the Mirrors of Time

 

Past all the makeup

Wrinkles

Beards

Or eyes that still might pine

 

One holiday a year

Smiles in the 2 week hot

Sun

 

Then back to work

Grinding hard through the

Year

 

For a return

To your only perk

 

Is that the only legacy

You're going to leave

To describe your dreams

 

Is that the lonely story

Of your lifetime

 

Or are you going to reach

Deep into the breach 

 

Place your chips on life's ever

Spinning roulette's

 

And create a new legacy

They'll never be ashamed to forget

Copyright John Duffy

The Mistress Of The Shadows

 A quiet day as I review old post for a new short book. It is kind of strange reading old posts created out of the ether. Human relationships are still as complicated as from the time humanity began. Did Lilith bring something controversial in the new world, when she rebelled against Adam, as written in some old scriptures and books many allure to? Is she the.................................

The Mistress Of The Shadows

 

 

Am I the sacred answers you

Still forever just seek

 

Could I but be your own embodiment of a glorious heaven or a perverse hell

 

Some say I’m the sweet lullaby dark angels sing

A sonnet of damnation or intense pleasure for the soul

 

Am I but the luscious green garden

everyone wishes to walk through

before they leave this land

 

To trespass to who knows

In here

 

One of the glorious

Hidden fifth kingdoms

 

We in the know

Just call

She’ol

 

My weapons have started and ended many

Historical or personal wars

 

Am I but the all-consuming sharp knife 

To pierce the hearts and lonely minds of those who just linger lost

Below the long shadows

 

Just seeking something to reignite their dark desires

Or who fight for the light

 

I have been called many names

Like the life-force of all living creatures

Untamed or just walking and surviving

Broken

 

Endless ancient woodland groves

Still sing unheard pagan songs to me

In the darkness

 

 

For my names are many but only two really remains

 

I live eternally

You see

 

Tasked to visit shamefully darkly lit places

Opulent incensed

Fused palaces of loquacious

Words of flesh and physical sin

Bedrooms

Woods and hotel rooms still carry the scent of my many

Visceral soul tainting visits

 

They all silently pray for my return

 

For I am but the darkness hiding in

So much light

 

Holy sustenance your soul needs

To truly feed and breathe

 

In plain sight

 

 

For once you are firmly within my grasp

I will own you for all your remaining

 Days and nights

For once you’ve tasted my sweet wet liquor

And sampled my priceless red wines

 

I’ll always own you as long as your light flickers

For I am ancient

Born into life with Old Adam and before my successor 

Called Eve

 

Now just forever stalking you

Within your Gardens of This Ages Creation

 

I walk through all countries

And my name is still carried

Upon the wet lips of the seduced

 

 

Within every one of these new worlds many

Ever-growing nations

 

For I am the glimmer and mysterious shine

Whilst lost in the darkness

And knee-deep in

The temptations of the Black Sun

 

The giver of reconciliation or damnation of the soul

 The emotional Sword of Damocles

 

 

A knife-edge upon which you may perpetually balance

And unknowingly dance

Do you know my full esoteric name yet

 I'm simply the two edge sword look bestowed to all living creatures from so high above

 

My full esoteric name is simply

Love Hate

Copyright John Duffy

From the Mount of Olives to Via Dolorosa

 From the Mount of Olives to Via Dolorosa

Today's entry on a quiet Easter weekend.

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

From the Mount of Olives to Via Dolorosa.

Are you ready to walk within my deep dreams?

Let us begin.

I was stood somewhere up high in a magnificent luscious garden, and as the daylight slowly receded.

I saw a band of say, 12 men gradually approaching.

All adorned in white robes of some sorts.

With the shimmering stars, lighting up the grey skies as their escorting heavenly consorts.

They were all a short distance away and never saw me watching, hidden behind a green olive grove.

As I carefully stared, I felt as if one of them knew I was there.

Hidden from sight, but still, he knew.

As I watched, he seemed to speak to the group clad in white and left.

Walking purposefully towards me.

With a subtle sense of supernatural power and a movement, that spoke of effortless control.

He seemed to be mouthing something I could not hear.

To the now dark ominous skies hovering above him.

Which seemed to crackle with electric energy and authority as though replying.

As I watched.

Looking down the hill past his followers.  

A multitude of flickering yellow lights seemed to be parading up the now black curving pathway.

Like a mythical glow-worm.

Something so incredible and strange, I just knew this dream was way above the norm.

A deep compulsion to warn the figure who I now recognised as Jesus, washed over me, but before I could speak.

He raised his finger to his lips and seemed to send me a message telepathically.

That made all my energies redundant and weak.

It is ok, John.

I know what is to come and the price I must pay.

Be silent as my eternal friends now sleep, for a short while at least. 

Before the storm which is to come starting tonight. Coming from the East.

For they do not know the price I have to pay, or could ever have the capacity to understand.

My journey to Golgotha isn’t the end, but also a new beginning for all living things.

I will see you again in my Fathers Great Kingdom when, unfortunately, you too will eventually wear one of Death's black wedding rings.

You have simply stumbled upon one of humanities old memories.

Iconic moments which are constantly replayed for the curious to find, and to appreciate for themselves.

I have seen this memory written down in so many old black leather-bound books,  and one thing they all seem to miss; is this.

Can you write this visit down for me, for the few to see if they too find their way here like you?

For there's still a secret here to find in these deep dreams, as they too wander through these wet mists.

You see when the Temple guards took me from here.

In the Garden of Gethsemane.

As I was led away after that kiss, from you know who - who I forgave, of course.

I walked away with them smiling, for I knew.

I knew humanity would finally have a chance at salvation.

This flux around us is shimmering but it will hold.

Stay with me for a few more moments, as I speak of humanities chance of redemption.

And then he broke eye contact and returned to his sleeping disciples.

Who awoke as the loud battalion of Temple men arrived.

Judas Iscariot kissed him and called him, Rabbi, as I looked on.

The figure who just spoke to me, now arrested. Walked down the hill.

Looking straight forward and glowing with such a beautiful beaming smile, that must have stood out for a country mile.

The one where true untainted happiness cannot be hidden.

A child’s smile.

A Son of God smile.

The last message I received as I lost the ethereal dream state was simply this.

Fear not, I will survive for soon passage for all can never be denied.

As he slowly disappeared into the darkness and walked to his already foretold wake.

Trailed by some strong-looking men holding lit torches, and men in white robes. Following screaming and crying.

With white doves watching the scene below as they stopped flying.

He spoke again.

I willingly go to die, so that all of humanity could have their sins forgiven, and receive endless life.

If in me they do believe.

So that broken relationships with God can be restored. 

And Atonement can be known and acknowledged in every moment. 

And then I awoke in a cold sweat.

Rather a strange dream to recollect.

I can still see all those figures in white walking up that winding pathway. 

And always hear that so soothing voice before they all walked to the Way of Sorrows.

Did my imagination conjure it up, or did I stumble into one of humanities hidden time loops?

All questions for a reflective Easter weekend like today, whilst sipping Merlot and bathing in the sunshine of life.

Have a great time wherever you are.

I hope you are free and not suffering from any struggles or strife.

Remember, you now belong to two strange worlds.

One of this mortal life, and one of forgiveness where there is no night.

Salute and Happy Easter.

Copyright John Duffy 

The Soucouyant

(A lone voice whispers)

Like a lone argus-eyed oblique tattered caliginous silhouette

Moving extremely cautiously in the severe deadly silence

The Mistress of the Voices of the Dead

Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett

A rare blatherskite whose white emblem appears on the backs of

The Great In-Between black gull's wings

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

Like earthly Starling flocks

To crow and sing

Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett

The seasonal bringer of red torches to burn at midnight

By kings

Princesses

Prince's

Peers and Lords

Red torches that would never go out 

No matter even if they got soaking wet 

When she stirs up her twin Sister Anxiety 

To fight in all gathered 

As she's summoned and ceremonially swept up

By her swollen army of mindless hordes

By their pleas

Calling to be re-masked and rebranded

With her new Emotions suit of self-resurrecting armour

Which her faithful armies seek

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

Always lit to dispel the darkness 

As old or new emotions cascade 

To help guide them 

A new follower home to atone

After they've been beautifully betrayed

And all their inner larders have been raided

By a conjured blind colporteur

Will you grasp Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett

Shadowy hand to then suddenly hear the summoning anthem

Played loudly by her ethereal band

Like I once did

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

Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett 

She of the steely green eyes

Who always appears from the West 

Looking for the heartbroken or just depressed

With horse and carriages following her in straight lines

For the soon to be possessed

Stacked high with new flesh suits of black leather 

And carrying white lit candles and sharpened blades

For those lost

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

When they were betrayed and waylaid

Who now need a new armour made out of black leather

A white candle and a two-sided blade

After hearing and experiencing the traumas linked to the explosion 

Of one of her hand made emotional grenades

Will you too hear these hissed words

Accompanied by the shrill sound of her ancient bejewelled Shofar

If you to her call

Surrender

Surrender

Will you summon me with your low cries and pleas

The true queen 

All the real honey bees seek

Will you stand and listen as my priestess

Amongst my unvoiced bannerman 

The harsh voiced Sangoma of the Netherworlds

Gathers and commands you to pull on my black leathers

Hold up your white candle and a two-sided blade

And return with her to my home forever 

A new soldier in an invisible army of the betrayed

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

For you know and accept no velleity can save you now

Will you follow I 

Poe Ravenscroft Marmosett

Into the sunset to reach a new land

Hidden just beyond The Green Hills in the West

Copyright John Duffy

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.

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

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