. Poetry from The Great In-Between

Sunday, October 17, 2021

Is this the new America?

Press play before reading. Salute.


(A lone voice whispers)


Do the lights flicker 

As the moonlight suddenly 
Appears

Are you 
Just one of the many 
Americans

Living in the shadows 
Fighting to stay alive

Trying to avoid
Defeat

Living lost
Like Red Indians

Surviving in
Joe Biden's
Mean streets

Proclaiming 
Polarity like 
Mathematics

Like Luther
Proclaimed 
Embracing his beat

Like 
Black Child

Forcing
YouTube 

To serenade his thoughts
And perceived knowledge

Is it an ungodly feat

Will you walk 
With me
With bloody feet

I'm just 
Human 
With 
Attitude

Can you ruthlessly 
Enjoy 
This 
Lyrical feat

Tupac 
Laid the foundations 

Now 
Am I the voice 

Of a global 
United Nation

Am I like Brando or
Da Vinci 

Ain't got no
Land though

I’m just a gut 
Seeing through 
This

Wherever 
My music goes

Am I going solo
Touring as you 
Wear my halo

Rock on
I may be devalued

But I’m
Raising 
Hell

Just 
For you
Wherever I go 

I'm not chronic 
Not ironic

I'm like 
Eazy-E 
On serendipity

Can you feel me 

I'm no Springsteen or Bono

Just another 
Nameless

Embracing 
It's rough spiritual flow

I'm just another soul
Against all those Karens  

Always on patrol

A lost soul
Marching 
Against rich laws 

Made for all those
In the know

Like Dr Dre 
In Compton 

Dreaming 
Of getting paid

Am I like 
Nicki Minaj
Watching Cardi B

On stage

Watching
Mariah 
Getting played

Can you ever trust 
Kanye
Whatever he says

Does Madonna pray to the Illuminati 

As masked strangers 
With Eyes Wide Shut
Gather

In downtown LA

Slowly getting laid

For Yeezus
Doesn't control
Us

For all parodies get
Waylaid

It be just a 
Kardashian song 

Don't he now
Know dismay

Rock on 
As the beat plays

Since Childish Gambino
Says

This is American

Life's cheap, not expensive 

You gonna take my gun

If you try things
Will get offensive

I'm no rapper sitting on the fence

No Chris Brown playing around 

No Jay Z
Now rich 

Getting fat and lazy

I’m fresh 
Can you feel me

Hit me up
You can be me

Do the lights flicker 

As the moonlight suddenly
Appears

Are you 
Just one of the many 
Americans

Living in the shadows 
Fighting to stay alive 

Never bowing in defeat

Living lost
Like Red Indians

Surviving in
Joe Bidens 
Mean streets

Proclaiming 
Polarity like 
Mathematics 

Luther
Proclaimed 

Embracing his beat

Like 
Black Child
Forcing
YouTube 

To serenade his thoughts
And perceived knowledge

Is it an ungodly feat

Will you walk 
With me
With bloody feet

I'm just A Human 
With Attitude 

Save me all 
The platitudes

If this is America
It ain't no land of honey 

Them days are long gone


Only the political or privileged corrupt 

Are making any real money 

If this is the New America 
 
Where Covid power 
Is driving crowds 
hysterical 

2021 is gonna be remembered 

As goddam historical


Welcome to the New America

Where the land of the free

Is now just metaphorical 


Copyright John Duffy

Saturday, October 16, 2021

Need a prayer in 2021?

  


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

 
(A lone voice whispers)


Let there be a bright light to strengthen and revitalize
You

In the name and in the presence of The Almighty

Of which you are reborn into Eternity 

Through the sacred power of the Holy Blood

Once sacrificed for you 
And the many others

I COMMAND the four winds to summon Archangel Michael 

To with his mighty flaming sword

Remove all dark energies 

Manifesting 
Around you or your family and friends 

And any unseen energies 

That secretly binds

And as all that darkness is absolved 

Into the ether from whence, it came

I call upon
Archangel Gabriel

To summon God's strength
And the blessed Violet Flame 

And through Ablution

Cleanse all your energies 
And remove all illnesses 
And threats to all your mortal beings

To once again
Bathe you all in the 
Pure White Light 
 
From the Almighty's 
Great Halls and to 
Fill up all your Future Happy Rooms 

With so much revitalizing 
Energy

 I ask Archangel Michael 
Through the Almighty's grace

To purge all the afflictions 
From kind souls as they go into the world 

To do the Lord's bidding

In this very moment as all this Dark energy is released

I pray for divine salvation 
Freedom and Enlightenment

For all birds need to fly
Not to just hide

All alone in the wings

For we all have a glorious song

We need to sing

In the name of the
Almighty 

So be IT

Amen

Copyright John Duffy

Friday, October 15, 2021

Amy Speaks


Will you remember me?


(A lone voice whispers)


Like grey smoke slowly rising in London's old Southgate



Each morning as I slowly open my tired red eyes in here

Filled with dark thoughts and whispers of the past



I still think of places in Enfield

I used to visit



Or people who’ve died who I’ve lost in an unholy war

Good friends who have now entered Gods gates



Now I'm forever 27



I always wake up with a body and soul inside that’s slowly crying

With tears that don’t dry on their own



Here in my own dark painful version of Heaven



Will you still love me

My old friends and lovers



Tomorrow



Even though you all once knew deep down inside

I’m was so addictive but really no good



Hey little rich girl

I once heard you say



But what is it about men who just like to play

When you still wake up all alone



Rich but still so poor in Camden



Wearing your deep depression like a familiar loved cherished

Old coat of darkened dreams



In tandem

Which still sing but silently screams



I now know there is no greater love

Than the Almighty



For to know him is to love him even more



My day will come though

Like me and Mrs Jones



Love is maybe a losing game

Where you pull in fuck me black heels and white pumps



Where your soul is love-drunk on cheap vodka 

From long lines of so tempting cocaine



I now watch in silence at all those subtle moments

As my life on this big screen in here



Flows

Forever tumbling like forgotten red and golden Autumn leaves



As I stand close to the front of this barrier in The Great In-Between



You may be all wondering if as a historic ghost

I still visit London or my beloved Enfield



My answer is always

Yes



For my reflection in gilded silver mirrors

I still see in passing posters or shop windows



As whispers of doubts slowly still

Swim on the molten surfaces of my mind



Seeking out all my hidden kingdoms

As me, they always stalk and follow



Looking for lost shores to walk and run upon and remain there

Haunting me forever



In some of my vintage old clothes

Especially through this half time



When the black cockerel crows

And the Great Golden Horn blows



Some say I was always doomed

Just another ill-fated singer simply eating and drinking



New and old pharmaceutical and alcoholic treasures

Walking the long mirage filled ancient winding roads



Towards a certain death or salvation

But still a winding road to the very end



Filled and overflowing with such strands of darkness

That I thought foolishly were just there for my own intense pleasure



But through the blurred white lines

And the distorted visions



I speak this



My life’s story is simply a sad song for just you

For I truly believe my soul will soar again



In time

My inner faith will create a silver bridge



To leave this dark pathway to self-destruction

And instead, lead to my own spiritual resurrection



For I believe Jesus died on the cross for me

And all I can do to repay his sacred belief

His sacrifice



Is to conquer all my hidden demons

And share my inner dreams in these words I used to bury



So deeply hidden within me



Before I am called back

By he who always calls



To fade forever into the Black



Before I go

Can I ask a question of you



Swear on your body and soul in the middle of this dark night

Standing between all those you still love but also those



Who you know still might cheat



Does my memory still stand beside you and we'll always be best friends



Right



For fame and love is such a losing game and I need you

To always remember my name




I was simply thrown under the Freedom Train as I couldn’t hold on any longer

Due to my everlasting mental pain


Remember me

My name is Amy


Copyright John Duffy




All my pieces are just monologues from voices whispering in the dark of The Great In-Between.

 Salute.


Thursday, October 14, 2021

The Crimson Priestess


(A lone voice whispers)


Within my dark lucid dreams 


She always appears 


Sending me deep spiritual treasures


To see and absorb by my Golden Scrying Mirrors


In the silvery moonlights many reflective walls


Which are in plain view


But just hidden from all the profane


No matter what they do


My Crimson Priestess


Hailing from the mythical Red Church


A legendary palace filled with a multitude of dark confessional rooms


Hidden from mortal eyes


Only accessed by a select few


Either above or below


And only known to them who are truly in the know


Come listen and hear my sweet calls


And join me upon your lifes quest


She always whispers when I dream


There's a red room in here


With crimson silk sheets adorned with diamonds and gold


Where you can be my guest forever


Until you're old and when we finally lay together 


If you're courageous enough 


You'll never get cold 


I'll send you ancient spells to drive your mortal success


Compassion and kindness

To leave for others 


To follow in your footsteps


I await in the deep ravines


Currently unexplored by you


Look deep within yourself tonight


And with the thinning of the purple veil


Between your world and mine


Just after the stroke of midnight


I'll appear before your eyes and reclaim your mind


I'll take you back


Through all the dark corridors of the hidden cities and towns


To a Red Church of such spiritual salvation


And there I will trace with my soft fingertips


Along your spines road maps


The route to a new sensuous discovery 


And introduce you into exotic tempestuous realms


Of such redemption


That you will plead to stay and never return


But it's here in this very room


I see and whisper to you from


That tonight your ticket to a glorious new world


You'll earn


Now summon me and just say three times


Blessed Be

Blessed Be

Blessed Be


Copyright John Duffy


Image shared under fair usage policy 

Wednesday, October 13, 2021

The Ballad of The Recalled.


 The Ballad of The Recalled. 


A passage from the Hidden books of the Goddess Diana.


Joseph's recorded letter to the Goddess Diana.


Recreated in ink.

++++++++




Many years ago


Within a silent dream-like whisper just after ten past midnight


I once heard your faint calls


You whispered so softly 


Preaching in the receding half-light


About that silvery gulf of divinity which exists between us


With such quite majestic spiritual thunderous proclamations of sacred truths


Be a vivid illumination


Your sweet voice gloriously confessed


For the world is still so beautiful 


If you really look below the dark frontiers of bleeding despair 


That seems to spring up everywhere 


But know this

A divine kingdom awaits


Just hiding beneath the many disgraceful layers of political and societal spin


Where some dreams are sadly crushed and filled with depressing days


Where once rapturous hearts will unfortunately tear


But you all 


My brave listeners are still kin of a universe unseen


You all have a god-given right to peacefully dare to cling on to your dreams


So learn to nurture all your strength 


For those cold days when Misfortune comes calling 


And strengthen whatever you believe in with profound conviction


For it's your protective shield which you just need to keep nearby beneath the surface 


Simply waiting in one of the many rivers 


Of your underground streams


Learn to dispel all those unspoken lies with a wide smile


Which may hang like a hangman's noose 


In friendless jealous green eyes


For your merciful and miraculous heart has always been yours to willingly surrender


Its virtues of kindness and heroism's are your own mighty defenders


Just don't be deceived by the many false pretenders on social media


In these long days of ever-growing darkness and fading bright lights


In the middle of this twilight


A devastating version of one of the universes long nights


Don't mirror the tilt of low souls


Into deep icy pools filled with many visitors 


To Dante's heartlands


But be a hypnotic beacon within what you choose to sing create or write


Ignite like an exploding thunderous New Years Eve or Bonfire firework


All the visitor's inquisitive minds as they quietly venture and gather


Sitting hidden or standing


Unspoken into sight


Inspire hope and give them an unconscious smile


For them to carry away freely into these dark morose nights


++++++++++


I can always remember listening to that soft voice patiently


Just too subdued to fight


And now a thousand years later


I'm trapped and held like a Stockholm conditioned prisoner


In your all-consuming singularity


For I'll always be yours 


Beyond society or notoriety


For those passionate once whispered words and my golden bell


Which still chimes


From here into infinity


Rule our twinned endorphin filled minds


For we now survive enshrined beyond judgemental scopes of any mortal kind


Eternally blowing in new winds which always provides


For we are young and eternally free


You once said the universe was always ours to conquer


And within each silent whisper 


When I still feel and hear your nightly calls from your shrine


Up high in Mother Moon


Once worshipped by so many pagan followers 


Before the fall of man


Regardless of fears of ownership or irreducible complex complications


I'll always climb over these metaphorical grey undulating walls


Regardless of the fall


Just cursed to try to reply


From you 


My predetermined soul-flame


Just hidden in the meandering shadows


Whispering through your channelled rhymes


As I feel the exquisite familiar torment 


That signals and announces with a huge emotional and spiritual pull 


Why my spirit was restored


As my soul is dutifully reminded 


It's being subtlety whispered to and recalled


By Goddess Diana



Copyright John Duffy

     

 

Tuesday, October 12, 2021

A Woman with such Power


(A lone voice whispers)


I hope she still waits


That rebellious wild woman of such irreducible taste


Who emanates such glimmer and sublime guile


With bright eyes which shine with the illustrious glow of that illuminated flame


Which was once stolen by brave Prometheus 


From heavens dark skies to mesmerise and beguile


Enhancing her beautiful face



Making her look like Morgana the Cunning sorceress 


In all the Arthurian legends


From where all her pagan red blood flows


She holds me like a pawn enthralled in a grip of steel as I try to break down


Her carefully constructed walls


When she always stands tall in these dark woods at the stroke of midnight


Eating red cherries


Making my molten blood rush like wildfire throughout all my pulsating capillaries


Where we still meet as I stroll to see her standing still 


Singing eloquently in her candlelit circle


To the moon and watching skies and audience of spirits and hidden animals 


As white and grey clouds wave and roll


Uttering strange ancient spells unknown to most


As she conquers all who dare come into view before they can yell


It's why I still visit 


For I'm just like a hypnotised mannequin


Summoned when requested


By the delicious sounds of her ringing golden ritual bells


Copyright John Duffy

Monday, October 11, 2021

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

 

The Sacred Tree