If Lord Byron could speak

(A lone voice whispers)

Is poetry a dying art-form in the twenty-first century

Does this new generation just want images and memes

To be their only norm

Don't they want to know the beauty of creating a new thing

That might be emotionally worn

A beautiful invisible locket that may help them find catharsis

And through Poetry Genesis to truly transform

In fifty or a hundred years

Will poetry simply be a mystical discipline

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 somewhere

Will the repeated vaccination cycles 

From birth potentially dum them down

So the burning passions

Dwelling buried deep within their souls can never speak

Will a technocrat's dream of a neverending dystopia

Lull them to sleep

To keep them in bondage like the old pharaohs in Egypt

To be obedient slaves who are emotionally and spiritually perpetually weak

Copyright John Duffy

 

Cousin E whispers

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 

All around you

It still remains today totally unseen and unnamed

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 name after a dandelion

One of The Great In-Between's most beautiful flowers 

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

From where I was born and raised 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 older

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

All my pieces are simply semi-poetic monologues channelled from the Great In-Between. Salute.

Are you an Outlier?

 Are you an Outlier?

A person who stands apart from others of his or her group, as by differing behaviour or beliefs?

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

(A lone voice whispers)

A long time ago

With some

Blindfolded or

Tied to old green

Wooden stakes

Because they loved to stone

Or just burn us

Just because they thought we were different

Since they lived in an unseen primitive world

Overflowing with such

shameless ignorance

We who once danced to Old Mother Moon

Or just under

The mystical Sun

Maybe

In our own woodland grove

Or simply around

Luminous fires

On secretive moors

As the cycle's of the world

Slowly

Ebbed and Flowed

Always staying hidden from all

On the mainlands

Busy main roads

We the old

Or new Poets

Pioneers

Painters 

Artists

Singers

Filmmakers

Herbalists

Music makers

Authors

Famous or still unknown

But yet brave enough to stand courageously

In front of all the charlatans and haters

We are all still

Representations of

The Old Seducers of the mind

For we are all

World shakers

We who have always walked

All those strange roads

Wherever our

Fate took us

And today 

We are all reborn

But now unafraid

To live our true way

For all our ancient ancestors now just 

Live within

Us

Just leading us forward

Is there a light

Within you too

A light

A strange beacon which is always lit

No matter how you feel

A need to write

Sing or produce something

Using all those all remembered God-given talents

Without the need for fake approvals or the old or new matrix's work permits

To truly seduce minds

To help others purge all those emotions

Which

Around us all

Still ebbs and flows

For we are all human

And so baptised and anointed by invisible hands to feel

Did you once with strength and conviction

Willingly kneel

To be thankful you were blessed before Apollo's metaphorical altar

The mythical God of

Music, Dance, Truth and Prophecy.

Healing, the Sun and Light.

Poetry, and so much more

To then stand unafraid before all to see

As you bravely whispered

All these gifts I truly adore so Blessed Be

Copyright John Duffy

The Visitor

Entry 234

October 10th

2021

In This Great In-Between 

At this very hour at 3.45 am

Here's my account following the breakthrough yesterday

With a ghost whose image seemed to flicker in and out of reality 

As if his frequency was jammed when he appeared early on Sunday

And as the pagan brotherhood

Those Egyptian purple robed figures 

Always skulking in the black shadows

Who herald from the huge ominous candlelit monastery next door

Chanted whilst holding hands in a huge summoning circle 

Around a blazing firepit

Illuminated by blazing strategically lit lanterns

"Gathered as one

To celebrate the rising heat from our Anthracite

With wide eyes watching the horizons, on the East

We await the newborn 

Star Child

Tonight

So all our wishes can be manifested and unleashed "

 

Leaving and moving past them calling forth some strange and supernatural power

 

With the four winds rising in tempo and white lightning striking the moving ground all around

Like a Banshee screaming

Announcing an imminent death as it struck some yellow flowers 

Piecing this never-ending strange night

As I eventually stood in that salt circle 

Dressed in black while Luna rises

After completing the summoning spell 

I once found in the archive of a private collector 

A rich sidekick 

Born with a silver spoon 

Now a chosen priest 

And when our Silver Lady 

The great moon 

Parted the grey clouds like Moses from the Time of Jesus

In the Middle East

Coming into sight from the blackness

While the chanting and silence fought for dominance 

Was a tall bearded person wearing golden glasses and a white beard  

Adorned in a faded green wax jacket

With a twinkle of stillness in his blue eyes 

He spoke

Hey Mage

I have a message

Will you take it back through this sludge from this frequency to my beloved

Who still lives on the other side with heartfelt' grief and courage 

Of course 

I replied 

Here is what the tape recorder captured from that particular seance 

Amongst all that chaos  

His name was Pat 

Let us begin

++±++++++++++++++

I'll always think of you even though I've sinned

Whilst standing alone in here amongst this sombre moonlight

These are my dearest prayers sent to someone so special

Angels must gasp at your beauty 

And all I can do is wait

Hoping one day

When you too arrive

My dearest Mary Jane 

    

I know you'll be late  

For you always we're but that's a good thing 

But when you get here

We'll hold onto each other

Like we once used to do

 

When I was alive and as our souls lovingly reunite

We'll just disappear

Walking hand in hand into this endless night 

 

Copyright John Duffy

I sometimes get supernatural visitors who compel me to write. 

The urge to write this was overwhelming. 

Love never dies, it seems. 

Salute.

Seth speaks. Will you listen?

  

A lone voice has just whispered from The Great In-Between. 

Was I just hallucinating

As I fluctuated between sleeping and waking in the hypnopompic deep state?

Seth Speaks

Did you know the region you finally exist in after you succumb to this world

Is but just a manifestation of all your internal opinions

Or much revered or dispised beliefs of this life 

Regardless if you're single or have even been a good or bad husband or wife

The black gates of Hell are built just under the silvery gates of Heaven 

And but locked from the inside my friend

I know you're there silently reading this for I'm standing beside you

Just hidden in the mists

Especially on this night 

I've seen it all with my own eyes when I look back 

From so long long ago as I remember when I too once died

And I locked myself in due to my deep sins of lust gluttony and pride

What you believe intensely in this life and cling onto 

Will always manifest and haunt your spirituality 

Until you ask for help so your spirit guides

Can counsel and encourage you to find freedom by pointing you towards the light

They are sent by the Almighty 

From the day that you're born you know

Tasked to try to always help you find liberation 

From all those secretive burdens and heavy chains 

That you might still carry and to try to stem that endless flow of tears you may have cried 

From enduring physical or emotional pain that can never be mentioned or named

Wherever you end up or go

Well, it seems I've overstepped my mark and spoken too much 

And I must now say goodbye 

We'll meet again so don't worry

Just call for me by name if everything seems suddenly cold and dark

If you appear to end up in a Hell of your own making and not Heaven

When you too eventually die

Just say

Seth, come help me find salvation

So I can also be blessed and when I too finally hear those golden bells ring

I can get my angel wings to help me and others to freedom fly 

To forever sing and guide

Copyright John Duffy 

The voice of Raphael

  

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

(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 strange

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

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

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 

and so be it

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

Copyright John Duffy 

If Santa had the Blues

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

Salute.

All I've ever wanted  

All my life  

Is to feel truly alive

Someone to love me

From early morning

To way past midnight

After a white winters

Christmas 

Sunrise

But like all things

Which shimmer

Evocatively

Like much converted

Gold

It's a dream

I still hold onto

Even now

As I grow

Slowly old

Where are you

Wherever you be

Will you find me

Before I cross over

God's golden countries

And swim in its purple

Seas

I once dreamed

An emancipated dream

Dreamed I'll be happy

To parade

For all to see

I was never young

But born

So very old

I've lived a lifetime

Where my memories

And poetic stories

Will be continuously retold

But it's a lonely

Life as I hear

The hooves of the

Track Master approaching

Who haunts all things

Which currently dances

To life's slow grooves

But I'm indomitable

And will face these last

Few years filled

With such grace

And when I see

The Almighty

I'll ask him face to face.

And say

Where was my

One and only

The one to hold

Me tightly

And kiss away

All those

Tears

Wherever I was

Sad and so lonely

On that cold sleigh 

Copyright John Duffy 

St Peter.The Keeper of Keys, speaks.

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

Salute.

(A lone voice whispers)

Some may still choose to call me a charlatan

A new reborn follower of a contemporary King 

From somewhere so totally beautiful it's so glorious

Some may say I'm a seducer of fragile minds

A fisher of men

Who then might choose to hold me upright

As I 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

Memories

Photographs

Art

Music or poetry 

Using them as your own golden lyre

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

So those who want to see read or even feel 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 your soul is forever deemed to be so beautiful and lithe

And embed with a profound strength 

To swim through all deep tributaries of anxiety or walk through realms of seemingly neverending depressions

Which may seem so unforgiving

To reach a new place far 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

 

And 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 that when that grieving golden whistle blows

When that hope of love
seems to disappear at night

 

When the darkness appears

I’ll be always here
To hold you

For 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 the two keys 

To the all 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