The Man who talked to Butterflies

  

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(A lone voice whispers. Lost in deep reflection. Musing in the throes of spiritual introspection - to a butterfly)

And so it rained outside and even inside

For what seemed like forty days and forty nights

As I wandered lost in that yellow lonely deserted

Judean Desert

Alone

When the hard times and the whispering low vibrational voices came

On the Mount of Temptation

Fluctuating between mild and wild feelings

Intermixing with the sound of falling rain in the distance

Then peaking to unknown or unexplored heights of demoralising anxiety with no limits or resistance

To finally merge together to twirl their silver big band batons high

As they danced in absolute unrestricted low vibrational ecstasy

Underneath that grinning red sky

Unfurling

All the hidden memories and opaque trophies of troubles and strife

Which they summoned from so many others to be returned

Petitions for a means to atone

Twisted and contorted thoughts

Which opened my mind like I was being stabbed like a market robbery victim

With the Devil's sharp knife

But as I knelt and prayed

With my eyes shut thinking about the living masses

Weighed up all the pros and cons

Imaging all the endless happiness

Still to be found within all seemingly sorrowful lives

A vision of a white cross suddenly appeared

And some soft eloquently spoken words

Echoed throughout my ears

Do not be scared of this life and all its many fears

Do not be scared to shed some sad tears for yourself or others

The happy days are soon to come

Keep your faith in this voice

Your version of the one true One

For we are many

And we appear everywhere

As in this form

He allows you to still run

For when your time is recalled by your final act in this endless chapter of life

On the cross

So many will be saved and rescued from the mighty fall to Abaddon

The Dark Lands of the Fallen Ones

And so I'll walk on smiling

For I know now

Beyond all doubt

My soon-to-be death in Golgotha would be my ultimate gift to the world

Today and forevermore

So who am I

To dare to be late

When the world I see before me

Needs to be irrevocably changed

From Bethlehem to all the many other bent city gates

For they are all filled with green rivers of jealously

And gushing winds carrying sharp spears of fear and with so many foolishly condemning others

By false accusations

Spreading hate

All I can do is play my role to perfection

If it only saves just one poor soul

What a better way to serve my version of my Holy Father

For I now know to follow which path is my destination Home

The one I have no control over

For all life

Even mine

Reads like a precious whole poem

Just that mine will begin and end in a timeless loop

When I arrive

To stand bravely upright

Before the baying crowds

In Old Golgotha

Thanks for listening

My friend who I'll call

Mary

In the form of a beautiful white butterfly

My mother

Who I can only pray

I'll see once more

Before the day I die

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Have you been heartbroken?

 

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(A lone voice whispers)

When love dies  

Please  

I beseech you  

Don't let hate grow  

For that path, you then walk  

With that new echo in your once soft voice as you talk  

Will lead you to Saqoseth

To a dark lonely room  

In one of its many prison cells

(C)  

Copyright John Duffy

Need some whispered rules from the Great In-Between?

 

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 (A lone voice whispers)

Hey you

Need some whispered rules from the Great In-Between?

Well, let's see 

Number One

Try to find an everlasting requiem

Something to drive you to wade knee-deep in lust for a real-life

Number Two

Make unrequited love

The rebellious Songs of the Transformational

As you throw away its emotional sharp knife

Number Three

Make a layer cake of evocative delicious delights

To be explored and devoured with your dearly beloved

Hidden from the watching dark shadows all around you

In the middle of any given night

Number Four

Find ancestral strength in midnight memories and ritualistic ceremonies

Within echoes from those now out of sight

Number Five 

Regain the strength to carry on and fight to finally

Find loves hidden highways and as you take flight

If it's not already within your sight

Number Six

Embrace the soft sacred thought that your own Guardian Angels

Watch over and protect you in every single way

Especially at night with their unspoken prayers as they pray

And you my child 

Will be okay

In all your lifes affairs

For every flower needs sunshine to bloom

From when the day they are born

Sadly but also happily saying goodbye to God's many Angels 

Who looked after them in one of his many Waiting Rooms

To finally appearing on Earth wearing an elaborate costume and whistling and singing into life

The many prophecies embedded secretly in their lifes new tune

For as the Angelic Choirs sing here in Paradise 

Hosanna

Hosanna

Every flower has the freedom to bloom

They only need a friend to help whistle their tune

Hosanna

Hosanna

Every flower has the freedom to bloom

They only need a friend to help whistle their tune

Hosanna

Hosanna

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Memories of the Sixties

 

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Do the dearly departed recite poetry in the dark?

Do I sometimes channel them as I hear their words? 

This came through. 

A deep American male voice of about....well who knows!

He speaks. 

Can you hear him?

(A lone voice whispers)

Have you ever lived in a wounded ritual

It’s a lonely world in here and I still miss my best friend and lover

My wounded ritual

For I once lived in the late sixties in the Deep South

This is my short story and heartbreak just spoken and channelled through another’s beloveds mouth

My memories of the Sixties

I always wondered why we were summoned and  petitioned so cruelly by so many blasphemous names

Were we really that cursed by nearly all we met

All over those great plains

Why couldn’t we just live and sit together peacefully but bravely

Just like any other pair of the world’s greatest reunited long lost lovers

Instead of just racing blindly from judgemental villages towns or cities

And sometimes having to hide in old badly beaten caravans in overgrown fields

Aren’t we all born free to walk under a warm summer's sun

To embrace the winds of emancipation as it blows gracefully under our feet

To be firmly told by good mothers and strong fathers

Never to surrender with your dying last breath

We always ran never to be caught for we were brought up to be arduous and to never yield

Although we were doomed to a fast-moving life of constant running

Like a wild mystical stag followed blindly by his beloved deer in the unexplored depths of society's chaotic forests

We always trespassed carefully throughout humanities deepest of woods

Always trying to keep one step in front of the hate-filled hunters

The Commoners

Self-professed royalty

Politicians  

Police 

Ice queens and kings

As we ran throughout all the ever-changing seasons and all the many hot conflicting reasons  

We had our good times though since we always used to slow dance

Sometimes mentally to a lone Motown tune while hidden within secretive motel rooms

You know the ones

Those with soft music playing only two could possibly hear

The cheap wallpaper 

Filthy fans to cool the hot air and the badly worn beds and cheap wooden chairs

I still sometimes sing unconsciously to the beloved dear who still runs around my inner sun

And in this great silence wonder where does she now constantly run

We are all the sums of our wounded ceremonies

But you sometimes have to be true to who you are

For your life can’t be lived if it’s just verbally or physically torn apart

To live in freedom is something you must never forsake

For true love is sometimes so deep it's just too instinctual

Always whisper this to each other

It’s my only advice

We'll face this world

The cruel names and the fire and ice together

Whatever our fate 

For we will never break

It’s what I used to say back in the day whenever I cried or felt degraded 

When I used to kiss and softly whisper in her ear 

When that Sixties summer sun used to bow down to bless and baptise us with its life-giving rays.......

But just like invaluable memories appearing like a midnight hallucination walking slowly back into the encroaching dark shadows 

I always think of my beautiful red rose just forever lost to me 

In this new life of ever-growing hostile and dangerous contentious green meadows 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

The Blues Singer

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Salute.

(A lone voice sings)

I can feel
You need this

For I saw you in a vision

And you don’t have to be a millionaire

To listen


Don’t have to spend
All your money on me


Simply hear
As I sing

If you’re feeling low
Take a seat


And I'll paint you
A vibrant picture show

With a thousand black and white  words


As your world slowly
Turns

My golden pen
Will be the only true film star

My inner voice
The supporting actor

For once

I and my beautiful life 

Had an amazing wife 

A real cracker

And all was good


I worked hard
Earned plenty

Was known all over in the neighbourhood 

As the kind of guy 

Who you could always go to

 If you needed anything to lift your mood

But like all good things

Something bad had to happen

She cheated
Went with another guy


A guy I’ve known all my life

Bill came in and stole my amazing wife

So now 

I just sing the Blues


The painful Blues

For just for you



Last time I saw her
Was sometime around last June

It was on a cold summers day
Like outside in a Winters evening

When the Sun was going down
When it had nothing left to say

She was sat drinking fine champagne and expensive wine

She looked me over
As she had good time

Standing there pretty
Looking real fine

Smiling and knowing

She takes all my money
Every month


Took my car
My house
My pride and soul


Took them all when she walked
Right out of my door

I've lost everything

Only got ten dollars
In my coat pocket

And our wedding picture
Still around my neck

In my moms golden locket

That's why I sing the Blues

The love song of the lonely 
Almighty fools

I got the Blues 

Mama

It sure still hurts



I got the Blues 

Mama

I see them both on a Thursday
At work

She just smiles
And winks



She's a player mama

For I know how she thinks

Bill always smiles
Looking at me like dirt

So all I got left is the Blues 

Mama

As I pray for Karma

I can feel
You need this

And you don’t have to be a millionaire

To listen

Don’t have to spend
All your money on me

Simply hear
As I sing

If you’re feeling low
Take a seat


And I'll paint you
A picture show

With a thousand black and white words


As your world slowly
Turns

Oh Lord

My golden pen
Will be the star

My inner voice 
The supporting actor

Oh Lord


I once had a beautiful wife and life was all

Good

I worked hard
Earned plenty

Was known all over in the neighbourhood


Oh Lord

Then she cheated
Went with another guy

A guy I’ve known all my life

Bill came in and stole my wife

Now I sing the Blues
Oh Lord

Just for you 

As I kneel to pray 

To hear what to do

All I can do is sing the Blues

Just for you

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Tragic love born in the Seventies.

An ode to those who suffered persecution from the judgemental's.

The list is so sad.

So proud things have changed.

Salute.

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(A lone soft voice whispers)

Looking for answers in this

The unholy of all blackest pits
filled with bitter but with still sometimes sweet-tasting human emotions

Illuminated by the flickering half glow of this fading miners lantern

Sat by my burning coal fire at four am

I write these few words down for future inspiration 

To encourage me 

Before I flee to try to get through whenever 

I feel the need to subdue the sharp pang of my apotheosis of my only friend

With dangerous malt whiskey 

 

The one who ritually visits who I call Mr Damnation 

 

For to be able to hear you whisper 

So be it again

 

I'd be driven crazy 

As I caress your precious velvety memories like a familiar shadow and admit to that grim-faced shadow of a human

 

My own perpetual stalker 

Who's staring back at me in this faded old black mirror 

Whispering that I should try to carry on

 

As I think back to those happier times with her

When we might have had a chance to be optimistic like so many other cross bearers

 
But just like every third rosy couple 

 

Who met and tried to stay together

While wading knee-deep 
in newly discovered rivers of uncertainty 

Through trial and error 

 

We were tragically pursued by the real broken phoney emotional stirrers 

Those two-faced ones living in painted white houses 

With twitching grey curtains made of out cheap lace to hide their judgemental faces

 

Those who deem themselves to be The Beautiful Ones in society 

 

The polished and the preened 

Strutting about with all their treacherous airs and graces

Just to be seen

 

We were unjustly discriminated against by feverish lions 

Those sad losers 
Who deemed our liaison

 

To be tainted and under their covetous judgemental eyes

To be on so many levels

Immorally corrupted and dangerously fragmented 

 

But to you, my beloved Ophelia 

 

Now erroneously judged 

Likened to a corrupt 17th-century museum 

Filled with pagan occult pictures

By a cancel culture fuelled by heathen convictions

 

My soon-to-be obsolete heart still sings 

As it remembers those wild crazy days and passion-filled nights

 

When we stood firm and issued 

All those endless FUs with such excitement and unbreakable rage

 

How we then ran away from Deep Dale

With anything, we could muster and carry

 
Caught a flight North and got married

 

Went to Las Vegas
Booked into The Bellagio 

 

Cruised the Strip and made wild drunken oaths 

To each other that we'd never be tempted to go back

No matter what news or stories we heard 

Broadcasted over the TV or radio 

 

I hope tonight 

As I close my eyes for maybe the last time 

As my lifelong friend

Doc Dupont says my last prayers and rites

 

If you didn't know I guess it's time to confess

You were always my life’s 

True one and only 

 

And I truly understand why you left so suddenly to be with them

 

For it's not easy trying to live with the news 

Of both of your parent's sudden deaths

 

Even though after all these years since you've been gone

After visiting your grave every Monday

My heart still skips a beat 

For I know my love channelled 
through my treasured memories 

Will soon
To you flow so damn easily

 

Reuniting you with those incredible few years

 

When we escaped to The Bellagio

And lived together 

For a short while to renew

 

Free from the long reach of The Beautiful Ones 

So peacefully in every way 

 

And now as I reflect

I never knew lonely until I lost you but soon we'll be together

For Manzoni

The Italian novelist and poet appeared one supernatural dark night 

And told me

Everything will be alright

And soon banners carried proudly into the 21st Century will carry your fight

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Vida Futura (S) Dreams

 

More channelling from the In-Between.

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(A lone voice whispers)

I was once called a Scarlet Man

When I was alive 

By the worlds many Marianne's

Susan's and Karen's

But I never cared

I just loved her even more

Because I once dared before all who gossipped and stared

I still miss you and that irrepressible smirk 

I always used to kiss whenever I called around at around eight

Whenever I could like a loyal post office clerk

To do my dirty night's work

To then smoke and drink sweet liquor as your bedrooms lights slowly flickered

Making small talk and watching the clocks tick

As we both felt the heightened sexual tensions

As our skins screamed out together with 

What happens tonight

Will be our last time

Lines we too always said as we

Hand in hand

Made our way to your marital bed

A line we wore out every year

For we lived and danced in a crazy repertory 

Of slim fingers and hungry tongues

A silent unspoken language of freedom

Bereft of no wrongs

Whenever we conjoined and prayed for the everlasting night

For we knew that when the rising Sun 

Summoned the daylight

We must part

Before she arrived

Oh, how I am truly sorry

But I was just a scarlet man

Chasing a married woman

And now I'm dammed by those in the shadows but who cares

If you're seeing this 

My one and only Kera

Know this with assurance

It's me your only true sweetheart and loyal footman 

Bill Trueman

Sending this message 

So you'll look for me in the Vida Futura (S)

So we can once again begin as you take my hand

In new lands of revolutionary aspirations 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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