. Poetry from The Great In-Between

Saturday, May 8, 2021

Channelling JFK from The Great In-Between

Just press play.
Salute.



When the climate is right, I will release the full version.
Salute.
 

Friday, May 7, 2021

The Sad Emperors Confessions


 

















Press play. Salute.


For my Messalina as I, Claudius from Rome. 37 AD. Speak down through history.


From all those sad love letters left behind


I still sometimes read whenever I feel the deep need


All those special poignant ones which still call to me


In the whispering darkness like faithful acolytes


Even though they always cut so deep afterwards like a sharp butcher’s knife


Those dark ones


Which salivate as they smother and conquer my every heaving breath


All those secretly treasured ones which still stink and reek with delicious samples of your Machiavellian so tempting perfume


Tinged with a mischievous seductive glint of guilt


Which I always see like lonely people engulfing each and every corner and dark shadows of this


Our old bedroom


A tranquil tangible scent


A subtle hint of all the wild memories of upcoming salacious sin


We once so wantonly engaged within victoriously


Yes you know the ones


All those French kissed pacts


Old whispered saliva sealed symbolic symbols


Of our impervious brush from on high above


Where you once said so delicately and so evocatively


I love you and painted a magnificent priceless portrait


In sweet kisses


So visually compellingly the legendary Michelangelo would have cried


If he had bared witness or tasted a drop of it before he died


You stated so bravely to the congregation of shadows and to the watching Nether World


In this life and above all its many claps of thunder


You'd be my mine forever


You'd stay to help me conquer uncharted wild treacherous mountains


Unruly blue and green waves and be my one and only wife


In this version of our new lease of life


But I suppose presumptuous deeds done in the Basking of The Witching Hour


After the stroke of Midnight


Especially when the Full Wolf Moon looks down hungrily and roars in silent smug victory


When young impish minds once cognitive and free from devious outside manipulation


Lie so drunk on white wine and divine lines of lazy cocaine as it outside rains


Totally sated on true human emotions in every vibrating form


But still so vulnerable to mystical dark visceral interventions


Of dark beings beyond the mortal norm


Where they can slowly but tentatively use dirty magic to introduce those carefully rendered unconscious


To step on to those dark pathways


Towards their badlands of Immorality and Ruination


But I guess those who choose to get wildly drunk or even high


Those who choose to go blindly and willingly


Or to be even manipulated subtly and convinced to utter wild oaths of fidelity


Way past midnight into the lonely witching hours should always be forgiven


This is my only wish as I stand here watching my old world burn


From here to eternity and back


As I remorsefully remember our first kiss that sealed our now unholy pact


Which announced to the watching shadow people and the Nether World


All our willful undoing


For you  

My vision of perfection


A Goddess Incarnate


I will always still wait


Just like another cursed fool


A now patient resident just condemned forever to stand still in this crazy asylum


Many goyim call Mother Gaia


With you as my cruel cold owner


My own ice queen who now sheds no more tears


My everlasting painful cherished spiritual addiction from who I always long to pray to hear


To free me from these rusty chains which keep me a prisoner in old lands


Where we were once free and never had any fears but looked forward to conquering all upcoming frontiers


Before secret unseen societies tore us apart and left me with this


A sad token of their misdemeanours


A red and golden medal which lies pinned deep above whatever I try to wear


Just sometimes a visible token of my dammed emotional state


I once to hide


Using expensive bright clothes and fake smiles to conceal from the watching world


My now broken heart


Copyright John Duffy

Monday, May 3, 2021

An Angel called Faith

Press play. Salute.

(A lone voice calling herself, Faith sings)


Let me purify old memories 

To be purged


For I alone 

Own all sacred keys


To embrace all vulnerabilities 

So you can be reborn 

With new responsibilities 


A whole new identity to be earned


To set you free

So you can be

The best 


For all to see 


As your new life runs 

To go so far


No more prisoner to tears 

To treasure the deep divine 


No longer to worship sin

No longer to taste more tears


Just let me be there

When you want me to hear you call 

Before you fall


Love infused with honesty 

Merged with trust and loyalty


For all the watching world to see


For we are friends 

Till the very end


Whatever this sad world dares to bring

Just let me in


To be the reason 

As your heart prays for something


Whatever the year or season


For I'm that one thing that has saved endless queens or kings 


And countless broken and destitute

The many the rich love to prosecute


Who I listen to even more 

Wherever they sing


Will you let me purify old memories 

That need to be purged


For I alone own all sacred keys


Just pray to call for me 


For my name is Faith and I'll appear to follow 

To help you break those chains 


To set your soul free


Copyright John Duffy 






Sunday, May 2, 2021

For the courageous

(A piece for a recent online group)








 


Press play. Salute.



This is for You

Oh yes

I know you're struggling for I've been there too


And that's why I'm just writing this so you know

You're never alone


Even though I've no personal connection centred around really knowing you


The truth is we've all in some way shared the same sad path 


Oh yes

Me 

You and so many others


Fathers, daughters, sisters, sons, mothers and brothers


Even though this river of seemingly endless pain we all swim through daily


Seems so deep and in the middle of every night 


We all sometimes cry and pray for the peaceful salvation that comes from a deep sleep


Even though we struggle to walk and our tired limbs and all our joints 


May creak as they painfully ache whenever we feel weak


And our tired eyes may leak as we deep down inside


Lose strength and unconsciously weep


Take strength for that pain you and me have endured doesn't last forever


The better days will soon arrive


It may just take a while


The days and weeks may fade into months but that better day will eventually come


When you can finally walk or ride out 


Into the bright sunlight and look at the blue skies and courageously shout


It's great to once again be alive


This is why this was written for just You


If you ever needed a drop of advice


Oh yes, I know you've been struggling for I've been there too


And that's why I'm just writing this so you know


You're never really alone and if you feel lonely just always remember


There's always someone who'll listen and try to answer any questions


In all those wonderful groups


All you have to do is just pick up the tablet

Laptop or phone


From January until the very end of every December 


To help you begin a new year 


Filled with a renewed strength 


To bravely face the world without any fear


For there are so many caring friends in here who understand anything you may ask 


It's why they too joined to be part of one of those online wonderful community centres


(C) John Duffy 

Saturday, May 1, 2021

The Transference











As we bade our final goodbyes when the sun even bowed its head as it saluted from the skies


We knew we'd see you again when the armies of ants surrounding the dandelions suddenly stopped and looked up


Copyright John Duffy


(Image shared under fair usage policy) 

Friday, April 30, 2021

A lone voice whispers

Richardo speaks

Press play. Salute.



I'll always remember when I first caught a glimpse of you


It was in nineteen eighty-two as it rained like a crazy scene right out of Platoon


I saw you standing by the roadside on fifty-fourth street


Looking lost in a jostling crowd


Waiting for the traffic lights to change


Appearing all alone with a tattooed on heartbroken smile as the storm and drizzle


Merged with the roaring thunder which seemed so loud


I can remember watching the rain beat a crescendo of four to the floor in a strange tempo


Like on Quinto drums across your face as you all waited impatiently for the green light to go


I can faintly see if I push


All your makeup run and still taste that sweet aroma of your Chanel number five perfume


Even in this half-light


I can still see brief flashes of your soft smile and beguiling wild eyes in this very room


But like all the world's well-written love letters left behind


To be found by broken-hearted foolish lovers when it gets dark and the bedroom is now just regarded as a tomb


I've come to learn that written within every one


In each carefully structured line is a shiny red and black bejewelled dagger


A soft knife to the heart


Just hidden within solicitous thought out lines


Announcing unceremoniously with guile that all things are falling apart


Cunningly dressed up with sentimental metaphors in rugged sentences and personal paragraphs


Paraded in dramatic straight black and white pragmatic lines to be read by hungry eyes


Soon doomed to be wearing bright crimson uniforms


When pain can no longer be disguised


Lines overgrown with  

Wait and I'll come back when you're ready


I just need more time  

It's not you it's me


I understand why I uncontrollably used to cry


Now that I can truly see since you've been gone for a while


You see deep down when I pause and reflect


I guess I knew you were always filled with such despicable lies


Especially after talking to my mother


The cheapest therapist I ever met


She did warn me


Sometimes the truth will come out no matter how much they lie or try to fake it


It's just because some women just see men as another cheap franchise


To be acquired and rinsed  

  

Used like prudent merchandise


Only then to be sacrificed by heartfelt love letters


They've probably copied like the ones they've already left to so many others


Who they left clinging on to the false hope that one day they'll return


On the gleaming tall shadowy altars of the  

Unfortunate


Who are forever traumatised because unlike me


They'll never learn


For true loved can't be bartered or ordered


It must always be worshipped and endlessly earned


Copyright John Duffy

Wednesday, April 28, 2021

The voice of ARADIA

A voice whispers from the Black Scrying Mirror

ARADIA Speaks











Press play. Salute.


Did you know that the Devil just loves to come up with a wide Machiavellian welcoming smile


Like a thief in the middle of the night to collect sinners


Just like Jesus attempts to come down more and more each day


Accompanied by angels 


To collect those who tried to stay but occasionally may have strayed 


From a narrow path while trying to follow the advice of his many much-lorded saints


The one's in the Bible who will forever be humanities true winners 


Did you know you are all like beautiful evocative masterpieces and stunning striking visceral tapestries


Reflections of your higher self 


Created from a colourful palette of delicious tempting choices 


You willingly or unwillingly are just bewitched to paint


As you follow an ever-changing direction 


That is always distorting and never appears to be straight 


Who do you think will come calling


When your life is over and your spirit is no longer trapped frozen in human form 


But just imprisoned in stasis 


Prevented from flying or walking by those who are always watching


Who do you think will call to collect to take you home


But that's a long way away hopefully and now filled with all this deep occult knowledge


Don't you think it's time to atone and accept this as one of those simple messages


To take as a justified warning 


A gentle reminder in this very moment to try to encourage someone 


Someone to come down not he who lives underground


Someone to come down from on high when your time is invoked 


So your soul can rise up into the afterlife and just keep on soaring 


As your body lies cold in its expensive or cheap coffin


Heaven's for everyone you know 


It all just depends on how your tapestries looks to those who like to stay invisible 


Just hidden before the greatest fall of all


When your life's masterpiece 


Finally appears as an exposition in one of their many supernatural galleries 


When your time is called 


Just awaiting evaluation as it's one of the leading exhibitions 


By they who watch


In an eternal sideshow called

The Art of the Souls Transmigration










Copyright John Duffy 

Tuesday, April 27, 2021

A man called E whispers


(A lone voice whispers)















Press play. Salute.

As I walk alone in here 


Just looking for a strange city called Redemption and a means to atone


Surrounded by whispering crying voices in this ominous new darkness 


Of The Great In-Between

Which swirls all around humanity but to the profane like you 


It still remains today totally unseen

I always really wonder deep down inside as I move and peruse


Does she honestly still miss me that lady in black who was never satisfied


Even though I was famous and talked about every day on every world news


That young war bride I once met when I toured worldwide 


Who I once used to sit with in secret and in the low hours by candlelight 


Converse in-depth about love life and all its sometimes painful mysteries linked to death and power


Which always used to remind me of Macbeth


As we sat underneath that magical old blackened oak tree no matter where we were


Somewhere hidden in the many fluctuating realms of the forbidden 


Just connected by a portal I used to call forth by a secret incantation


Only known to a few of the last descendants of those deemed immortal


From where I was born and named in Tupelo, Mississippi


To then be known all the way to the wet sandy shores of the Baltic Sea 


Am I soon to be just a faded jaded memory


A part of a now old and forgotten legacy


People come and go in your old life I suppose 


Friendship heartbreak and love go hand in hand with something resembling Damocles sharp knife


So I'm told now I'm wiser as each day I grow old 


Some relationships will seem to last forever and some will inescapably be cut so deeply by its biblical silvery blade


That no matter how hard you may have cried shedding such sad tears or kneeled for hours and prayed


You'll eventually know that's why love and friendship entwined around treasured memories of others


You once so dearly cared for 

Sometimes chose capriciously to slowly just fade away


But if I could only just see the face of my precious treasured memory once more starting from today 


I would thank the Almighty until the final day of my baptism into a new holy Jerusalem 


If only he would bless me with the power and the magic of an endless Midsummers Night Dream 


To once again in this darkness


Sit together and talk under this new blackened old oak tree after I once again try to just summon her















Copyright John Duffy 

(Images subject to fair usage policy)

Saturday, April 24, 2021

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 

 

Wednesday, April 21, 2021

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 Sacred Tree