The Monologue of Mr Catharsis

 

Hey brothers and sisters 

When all the prevailing shadows of past and present traumatic experiences

Swirling like a ravenous pack of snarling grey wolves 

Appear whining howling and banging against temporary hastily built gates

Erected within all modern minds 

Including yours

To hold in powerful soul-draining emotional pain

Historical generational drama or intense unwanted physical trauma 

Poetry must be implored to take a much-needed seat to be duly exploited

Explicitly as an insidious conduit 

A sacred form of holy communion 

To usher in a new age

An expansion into unknown realms of such audacious visceral expressions 

To be seen and felt as far away as a country mile if required

So many or just the writer can see and scour its mesmerising definitive themes 

Composed from the dark hidden invisible edges of civilization

By breaching those old or young heavy wooden doors

To confront what lies beyond 

In the darker  provinces of the writer's dreams

As all the many desperate ultimatums

Emanating from the physical and spiritual kingdoms 

Beyond all their duplicitous demands

For pure narcissistic attention 

Previous oaths of fidelity or inopportune slavery 

Which once held them in stagnating subjugation 

They must all be controlled to get them  in line and wait patiently as the now anointed poet smiles 

To embrace a once untasted awareness of personal freedom

And like a rare bird who has now found its wings 

They can fly high as they slowly realise

Their heartfelt words can bring a higher degree of inner salvation 

For their freedom to do so 

Can no longer be treated as absurd

By anyone 

Copyright John Duffy 

 

For my life's nurse

Press play. Salute.

(A lone voice whispers in the dark)

Her gentle graceful touches are so beautiful and incredibly captivatingly soothing 

They seem to play a delightful melody to vanquish all my mortal fears

Like the rarest of heavenly sunsets that emerges with a twinkling smile in the midst of pink and red frontiers 

When time itself appears to stop flexing and moving

Swirling like a god-like deity in a newly lit sky

She is the quintessence of glamour in a night-time high society ball

Filled with dancing masked courting fireflies

Who watches her every fluid movement in jaw-dropping awe

When they pause to rest on one of my beautifully wallpapered walls 

A rare evening serenading the gathering of a few enamoured spirits

Where honoured souls gather in their best dresses and bespoke suits to readily confess

Her delicate hands move like Mother Moon gently over my trembling horizons

Whispering my secret name and claiming me as her domain 

For we are now consummate lovers and no longer just worldly friends 

A bright new world is always breathed into light and lost in delicious touches in that spectacular twilight

For under the gaze of my devotion

I can only reflect her love in my hazel coloured lens

The darkness surrounding us like an old friend 

Sings a lasting symphony of happiness and lingers in the celestial as angels watch and smile

No man-made treaties or paper laws can separate us

For now, our passions in the midnight sun 

Soon will wildly run

We'll never lose this particular twilight and these baptised rays will never lose their red and pink hue

For when we first met 

I'll always remember that I willingly sunk knee-deep into your green and blue

For in that magical transference of spiritual energy

I knew in that metaphysical moment why God had sent me and it's why now

I'll always belong to just you.

Copyright John Duffy 

The Voice in a Dream

Press play. Salute.

Are we expressionists just blessed, poetic acolytes

Simple reflections of old narrators

Thrown centuries ago from one of the many grey walls of the mythical Towers of Babel

But now just constantly reborn before each Great Fall

At the peak of every new society

Simply here to tell many new and old stories in a universal poetic archaic language

One where we all stand shoulder to shoulder

Willing and able

Completely endowed with a greater freedom to stand beyond the dark Gates of Sodom and Gomorrah 

Now called Social Media

Where the new masses gather like lost hypnotised Starling flocks and appear so servient and obedient

Birthed to eventually grow to report about the emotional depravities

Linked to surviving within every new kingdom

For inside all these ensuing exotic landscapes beginning from the very first one 

A silent profound truth still lives at the very centre of each and every core and must always be subjectively explored

Heartbreak in all forms must be willingly or unwillingly endured for every soul  to seek a means to mature

This is the sacred unspoken truth

For there is scarcely any journey a human being can pursue

That does not usher in heartbreak which sometimes seems it can't be undone as it takes its grand tour

Grief  

Lost love  

Mental and physical abuse  

And so many more

The strength to rise after the fall

The belief to stand tall

The power to burn your candle even brighter to lead yourself or others

Out of the stillness and seemingly perpetuity of darkness

To find yourself again

That's how you can conquer all the many difficult strands link to just living 

For embracing its cold touch 

You'll start to treasure all those moments of happiness and purge all those sad ones

By understanding it all starts with the courage that comes from just forgiving 

Copyright John Duffy

My New Collection. 2020 to April 2021.

 The prose collection from 2020 until April 2021. Available on Amazon.

Click the link below. Salute.

Click HERE!

Shortly, I will be using some of these as monologues. 

I know they will make great theatrical pieces. 

A lone emotional driven actor reciting a selected piece in total darkness - with only one spotlight illuminating them.

 

With accompanying sad piano music of course!

Bravo. 

Until next time. I may not be posting for a week or so as I recover. 

I have a date with a surgeon and a sharp scalpel. On my birthday of all days.

Be safe wherever you are. Salute.

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