The Angels Tale

  A lone voice whispers

The invisible Angel smiled at the rows of sorrowful patients

Which lay before it on ward twenty-one of Saint Peters hospital 

In New Brunswick

New Jersey 

As it then looked at just one particular sorry soul whose body was now broken and bent

For it was why he was summoned by heartfelt prayers 

Whispered to be heard for it to be dutifully sent

The smile it carried wasn't a smile of ill judgement 

Or dismay but of immense hope 

To change the sad vibrations at play

For it knew the recently diagnosed patient would find the tenacity and strength to eventually cope

For they all do 

It's a silent degree

A line spoken by the Almighty 

Which all things follow if they believe whatever it says

All they have to do is call for them and pray

To summon angels from The Great  In-Between

The bringers of such priceless envelopes to soothe the soul

The invisible folk

Who'll follow like betrothed guardian philanthropists

Just huddled together

Sleeping in the shade of the Great In-Between trees

The Eternal Water Oaks

Waiting for psychic calls to spring into action

Flying into the lonely caressing arms of the swirling grey mists

Which moved and flowed all around 

Like it had a phenomenal supernatural intelligence 

Hiding those sleeping in the grey smoke 

By The Great Grey Oaks by its smoke which it uses to cloak

Copyright John Duffy

Chanelling Plato

(A lone voice whispers)

Are you feeling low and haunted by a sense of something malevolent 

Following you like a second shadow 

Everywhere you go 

You could be so beautiful

You know

Inside and out 

If only you could be courageous enough to accept who you really are 

And shake off those so familiar feelings of despair

That seems to follow you everywhere

But are you brave enough to change

Family 

Friends

Lovers

Or even work

For to grow into the real you

To shine your inner light

To all within sight beyond fear

Judgment or condemnation 

Has always been one of the Universal Unspoken Laws

And that statute my friend with the curious eyes

Can help to dispel all those inflicted flaws

Reading these words in 2022 

In the early morning sunlight

Afternoon

Dusk or just past midnight

That old universal law is still totally irrefutable

But are you ready to understand and grasp it

For God gave you an inner light and it wasn't made to be irreducible

But simply to help guide you through all those long lonely nights

To help discover the real you

Copyright John Duffy 

Dreams of Idh-yaa

Part 2 of Channeling H.P. Lovecraft.

Channeling H.P. Lovecraft.

Dreams of Idh-yaa 

(A lone voice whispers)

Her hypnotic ruby eyes 

When she appeared, knocking softly on my front door

Wore me out instantaneously with revolving shadows

Blooming with mystical colours of deep dreams

Echos of an unexplored multiverse 

A place where unfulfilled desires and cravings linked to lust

Could be so easily dissolved and resolved

They whispered of archaic realms

Revolving around humanity 

Like old satellites unseen 

Twinkling with sparkling obsidian dust infused with a fervent red shimmer 

Of something transmigrational

Something so mysterious and sensuous 

That when she suddenly willed it to appear 

You could sense it would be utterly insatiable 

Her smile carried a hidden memorandum and invitation 

That was inescapable 

For with one look 

You knew her courage was unshakable 

She appeared to me like a ghost in the night

Offered me a sharp drink 

To sink before our libidos began to fight

Her real name is still truly a mystery to me 

As I wait impatiently by the fireplace 

At The Shadow and Key 

For her return 

But when I pause and reflect 

Will I ever learn

And like so many before me? 

Will I come to eventually understand?

That she's just one of the many saboteurs 

Sent by the hidden Masters at Arms 

Like wild-eyed birds as this world turns 

To seduce and collect

Or am I just another blind fool 

Chasing after love 

As the world stands at one minute to midnight

Before everything goes nuclear and everyone burns 

As submerged Gods dream 

While their dystopian plans take effect

Copyright John Duffy

(Fair usage policy applies to all images) 

Channelling H. P. Lovecraft

 Part 1

(A lone voice whispers)

At the Most High Temple

On the unmapped mountains 

Once climbed recklessly by illuminated souls such as 

Nostradamus or Louis Bellefontaine 

To meet the neverending sensation

The imperceptible incarnation emitting that magnetic pull and lull

Which haunted their every waking seconds and vivid dreams

With its unwarranted invasion

Who many contemporary colleagues 

Then viewed as touched with a trace of Darkened Lilith Madness

For when the Mighty Dagon 

The mythical beast of the Deep North Sea 

Heard my calls for knowledge and wisdom 

Sent blowing like paper boats

Sailing through the world's silence 

Of the vicious violence in the Middle East

Overflowing with prayers 

Spiritually charged with erratic need 

He too sent me a personal invitation

Which would lead me into a new age of transformation 

To the lonely place where I lived by the raging sea

Known only to a select few 

As The Shadow and Key

The Dagon

Invisible invader of the human thalamus

The Dream Walker

Whisperer in the Darkness

Came to me in Kansas

At midnight

With lightning and thunder announcing his sudden arrival 

At the Shadow and Key

It told me deep occult secrets

Only kept in the heavily guarded vaults 

Beyond the Blue Door of the Marianas Trench

Sealed by incarnations and potent harming spells

To deflect the Broken

Seething and entrenched with dark dreams seeking only revenge 

It spoke of red wars

Red rivers

Broken dreams

Torn minds and souls

Power-hungry controlled pawns used by unspoken things like it

Supernatural creatures

Which create their new forms of piety by handing out subliminal lyric sheets 

So they can keep the hypnotised singing their war songs

It warned me of a lady in blue

A shadow walker who would soon call to the Shadow and Key

And offer me glorious pleasure as we lay entwined by the sea

It said to choose wisely for the Red Wars

The red rivers of Broken Dreams and Torn minds and Souls

Would soon need someone strong 

To lessen the blows from those pulling the strings

For the unseen monsters in control

Someone to soothe their pain with illuminated prose

And then with a crash of white lightning

Striking the fireplace clock 

Right in its timekeeper's small face

It was gone

The Mighty Dogan told me a time and date

She would arrive

Idh-yaa

Or to some Quum-yaa

Cthulhu's Mate

The Mighty Mother or the Gothic Matriarch 

One of the last Great Old Ones 

But to me

Just The Lady in Blue who with her love

Would could carry the velvety tainted baskets 

Filled with the snakes of corruption that could worsen the planet's fate

Well,

Today's the foretold date

And the time is tonight at eight

Sitting here by the soft sea

Warm in my refuge from the world in my beige smoker's jacket 

In The Shadow and Key

Shall I answer the door when she knocks and be a gracious host?

Or should I ignore it and try to bring hope to the world 

By starting my new form of poetic Renaissance

To soothe the few when they need it the most? 

Copyright John Duffy 

(Image shared under fair usage policy)

The Poetic Tale of Mr Ebony

A lone voice whispers

 Mr Ebony approaches my secret libraries shadows 

Of lost memories

Which follow me around 

In the form of Charlie Chaplin

Carrying a battered old brown suitcase 

Covered in Do Not Open stickers

Stuck on its worn-out aged face 

Always behind me

Treading into the soft sands of my histories far-stretching shores

I leave invisible to the human eyes

Everywhere I go

Pale are the grieving trails

I leave

Filled with tree branches 

Where once beautiful memories

Now filled with grieving and hung like dazzling decorations

On Christmas Eve 

That reminds me

Painfully of years 

Mesmerised in the Misplaced City of Love and Trust 

A wondrous place

Where tender blue waves caressed the ocean before turning into ethereal dust

Where Mother Sea French kissed each citizen 

Like long lost lovers

  

How pure that time and sound was loved by me

Laid watching the diverse tapestries filled with moving clouds

By the sea

Visions of her hand holding mine

With her head on my shoulder

Telling me 

She'll love me forever

As Father Time got slowly older

But those once happy days are now so long gone

For Ebony approaches my shadows 

My priceless library 

Armed with his memory stealing Amnesia Gun

Hunting for long lost memories

Which dress like Charlie Chaplin

Always seeking battered old suitcases

To add to his endless collection 

He's pulled from so many silent screen faces

To then rip them open 

To then tread into the soft sands of their histories far-stretching shores

Once left invisible to human eyes

To wander through the path of the Pale Grieving Trails

And take broken hearts most expensive treasures

Once hung beautiful memories on delicate branches

Like dazzling decorations

On Christmas Eve 

That reminds him

Painfully of years 

He too spent

Mesmerised in the Misplaced City of Love and Trust

But now doomed to forever stalk and grieve 

Before he too dissolves

And is absorbed by the Universe

Just to be another form of brown rust

Swirling in its ever-shifting dust

Copyright John Duffy

(Image shared with fair use policy) 

Yavi. The Romantic. Speaks.

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Like a red rose 

I always climb high to the reach brightest of lights

Surging in all directions

Such is the driving thirst 

Searching in complete expectation 

In harsh conflicts and dangerous lands

Conquering each

Whatever comes first

I try to climb past all the watching marching bands

Stood in their many well-dressed lines

And like the red rose

I also grow in silence

Like the so very righteous 

Only finally announcing my inner beauty to those worthy

Of my time

Trust and loyalty

And finally like one of those rare and precious 

Virginal Red Roses of Cairo 

One of the most beautiful standard-bearers of all known flowers

I also have exquisite sensuous needs that must be deliciously deflowered 

So are you willing to stand in the pale moonlight

And let my thorns gently caress your inner third eye

As your soul salivates quietly and cries 

For a new form of seduction 

As we hand in hand 

Go to war

Challenging the world like it was a Francis Ford Coppola

Production

Copyright John Duffy 

The Mysterious Well

 

(A lone voice whispers)

There's a grand old well that I sometimes visit 

In strange lucid dreams

When Mother Midnight sweetly calls

My lonely soul out to play

With her golden diamond-encrusted whistle

For she is so uncivil

And all the silver stars gleam 

In hungry anticipation 

I always see the walls of the well 

As they seem to be crumbling away but never do 

All dull and painfully grey

As it sits like a tired old King 

On a tattered throne 

Made of brown leaves

Which surround him 

Like a sea of grinning thieves

Climbing like former lovers across its form

Wild Morning-Glory sleeps like a tired old soldier 

Surveying the corn

Watching Creeping Charlie advancing 

With a little shimmer and dance

When I walk the path of the One

To that well on the edges of time

When the moon is hiding and clouds look on 

Like drunken fools

When silence fills the very air

The dire aroma of loss and decay invariably arises

Once lost things always appear 

In all shapes and different sizes

Like a visiting country fair 

But nothing stirs in the cornfield before me

For nothing ever dares

And when I reach the mighty King on the Hill

The ruler of all 

Before I swallow my own red pill

And look into his gaping soul

All I can see is my heart's own watering hole

A darken wet place filled with now unwanted memories

I'm always drawn to

When my higher self loses its self-control

On its wet surface 

Lay old photographs

Undulating and floating images of

People 

Places

Chances and

Moments 

All moving in unison

In perpetual silence

As I watch and stare

A red and yellow flame eternally appears and they all burn 

Forming a sensational burning red heart

A stunning piece of spiritual art

And as I leave

Grieving 

Deep down inside

Walking lonely 

Like a soldier to a cold unwarranted post

Back to the shimmering Blue Portal

Waiting quietly to return me to the land of the living

Away from all these creeping bold ghosts

My mystical doorway home

So I can reflect and maybe atone

The King of the Hill always seems to whisper before I disappear 

Will you learn this time or will more memories

Need to go past the point of no return 

Before God blows

Calling you home

On his beautiful French golden Horn.......

                  .........

                              .....

Copyright John Duffy

Whispers from Beyond the Veil

  A lone voice whispers

To you

YES

I know who you are from in here

Look to those deep memories

For they are no longer cold graves that may

Cause you to weep

Try not to lose too much sleep on those

Who may lovingly still
Call me a creep

For what they do not know

 

I’m but part of lifes indulgent experiences

A tiny strand of all those thousand winds that Love blows

 

That rare bottle of
Emotional Tennessee whisky

Tasted in the heat of the moment 

All beautiful memories you may choose to help serenade you to sleep

The twinkling diamond in a dark storm-filled cloud

As it snows

A burst of blistering sunlight to warm your soul

Wherever you go

That gentle reminder

Embedded in one of our faded love songs

Whenever you open those dark brown eyes

In the early morning breeze

 

Now that I’m gone

For all I am now is but one of the soft stars

That shines so brightly at midnight 

A man from the South Side

 

Living now in the Great In-Between

 Speaking to you for the last time 

Before I make my final ride home

 

Don’t let regret and grief 

Be the only things
Your life forces you to eat

 

Just try to always remember me

The good times and my eternal love

 

Within every step, you take and with every heartbeat

 

It was always meant to be

It was always meant to be

One day in here

With the Lord's blessings 

When we are together

Again as one

Perhaps then

You’ll see

 

Copyright John Duffy

A lone voice whispers

 

A Tale of Grief

(A lone voice whispers)

Today

On the fateful fifth of March

Twenty twenty-two

I lost something so special

A moment in time now extinguished and placed in the long rundown grassy ruins 

With so many others

By the Great Grey Castle Walls

A place deep inside that my soul calls home

In the Great In-Between

A place I long ago pledged I'll no longer visit to look or be seen 

For that once treasured spark has announced its retirement

So I'll lay it to sleep near the safe blue zone 

Where it can sleep with so many others

Near my favourite Yellow Keep

A treasure of such irrepressible immense beauty but like all things beaut..........

The End came like a flashing blade strike from a wonderfully skilled knight 

Clad in magnificent silver armour 

Like a true warrior

Woosh and it had vanished

Vanished to othér frequencies and soothsayer's

Beginner's

Beguilers and hellbent on pleasing creatures of the long night

Today isn't sad and meaningless

For I've seen a new bright light on in the distance 

And it has recently waved back whispering telepathically

Come

Challenge me and bring stories and that purple orb

Your Irrecha is safe with me

Your sense of Locca is the same as mine

Come see and maybe we can be happy in time

 

But a sad day indeed

Gifts of Divine Wish Power is an incredible thing but also really painful

As a visionary 

A mystic

Call it what you may

A voice said it would happen and look what transpired today 

A visit to the Great Grey Castle Walls

In the Great In-Between

To walk among fallen friends who no longer stand tall

Copyright John Duffy