Have you been one of The Seduced

  

Title: 

Have you been one of The Seduced 

(A lone voice whispers)

Does the lonely soul with broken wings

Still cry as they wallow and grieve

Does the heartbroken walk 

Head down 

With an invisible frown

Looking at sharp pavements 

Littered in broken glass emotions 

When they are cursed 

To wear their hearts on their sleeves 

For when lust for a new love life has you in its tight grip

That unquenchable temptation to be violated 

Or to enter new flesh 

To penetrate deeper mentally into unknown wet territories

To really sate your soul for fifteen minutes or so

As you clash climatically 

Clinging onto the thought that this new form of love will last forever

Whilst bound tightly together with pheromone emitting 

Soft aromas of immeasurable pleasure 

Which smells of shiny black leather

Will thoughts of eventually being one of those lonely souls that grieve  

When they eventually leave

Just be another conspiracy theory 

That you were played to get laid

That many will never believe?  

As you walk on lonely pavements like so many of those deceived

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Are you an Imajician?

 

Have you visited the Wetlands of The Great Imajaca

To the Others called Imagination and got drenched

A wild and sometimes dangerous place

The Mundane plead to peruse and use but through social conditioning

The fear of standing out in the rain

Anxiety linked to feeling and experiencing newer visceral or sensational emotions

The Lands of The Great Imajaca may them to

It may as well lie at the bottom of the Mariana Trench

(C)  

Copyright John Duffy

It's quite a deep piece.

Many I know personally aspire to write, but are held back by what their peers may think.

The anxiety they feel linked to looking inside themselves through introspection.  

Using their imagination to create instead of posting already created memes, on social media.

Imajician is simply a play on magician.

In this case a conjurer of words.

An explorer into the wetlands of the human experience.

The dark and light.  

A place many writers, visit.

Salute.

Image shared under fair usage policy from Pinterest.

The Glastonbury Queen

  

Press play before reading. Salute.

(A lone voice whispers)

I'll always remember Mary Jane

She had such energy that to this day 

Still remains

Let me begin by singing

--------

She shuns small talk outside quiet parks

For late-night smoking blunts 

Filled with confessions of the heart

She turns down old school reunions 

With the popular crowds

For she'd rather go on wild adventures 

And unknown road-trips

Without any compasses or even road maps

Just so you can get lost together 

Carrying old treasured backpacks

She shuns new pop music playing on loop

On the radio

But just loves good old folk music and rock and roll

For she's a wanderer 

Just born with a wandering soul

She just goes where her brazen heart

Whispers to her to go

And to all within her reach

When she's lucid and high 

Feeling the need

These lines she just loves to stand up and preach

Come unto me 

All within my reach

And I will whisper into your hypnotised eyes

To teach

All who gather unseen

All around you

Send love and light

To carry you through those long sleepless nights

Even though you may feel weary and down

The smiling days are soon to come

So gather up all your troubles and woes

Throw them into the winds of redemption

That quietly blows

Always carry your sun in your golden locket

And hold the moon prisoner in your coat pockets

Dance in spirit and never wave your white flag

But be free and majestic

Like the white stag

The true king of the forest

For you're a beautiful wild wanderer

Wherever you are

For we're just limitless passengers

Riding blindly to a finish line 

Within Father Times old car

Wanderers 

Just gathered together

Once more

No longer lost

But with people we adore

Just drifting

Forever

Underneath the endless white twinkling stars

Just together to reminisce 

About all the people 

We love and still miss

And places we've visited 

And wished we'd never said goodbye

So drink up tonight as the midnight sunsets

And let's make it a night

History will never forget

---------

Oh how I loved that woman 

Called Mary Jane

The only woman I've met

Who lived her life filled with no regrets

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

Were you on Google Plus?

 My blogs has just hit 18,000 views.

Hopefully, I get the above views before my light's recalled, when I was on Google Plus.

I took this screenshot before hitting 5+ million views.

The highlight been a moderator of 40+ 000 talented poets on a wonderful poetry community.

Should we try to share our light with others?

Have a wonderful day or night wherever you are.

Salute.

Daraya's story. Does True Love live on after Death?

  

Press play before reading. Salute.

(A lone voice whispers)

Do you still miss me before we were destroyed and betrayed 

Would you tell anyone the truth 

Even if God forced you to confess under duress 

Although I know I've caused you so much distress

Does your inner circle still revolt like 

Mary Harris Jones

The grandmother of all agitators

Casting wild spells

When they hear my name

Whenever you visit friends who respond with wide alligator smiles

Before commenting on my tragic previous lifestyle

Like one of its many unwarranted  administrators

I may now dance amongst the silvery stars 

No longer a member of your life's smiling parade

 

No more to sing 

Smile or kiss

No more to hold hands with someone they really miss and watch the sunset

Lost in each others eyes in total bliss

But if only I could see you one last time

I would move heaven and earth like Che Guevara

For you are my candelabra in the darkness

My second heartbeat

Which always wakes me like my own version of Desiderata

At 4 am

In the middle of each lonely heartbroken night

In here

Amongst the ever-moving shadows of The Great In-Between

I miss you 

Alanna

I just hope and pray you're happy still living pill free 

In a new era

So just remember me

Your forever one and only

Daraya

The silent watcher who's now a citizen on the other side

Lost 

But happy tonight

Just listening to Prince Rogers Nelson perform a show and sing 

Sometimes it snows in April

In The Hotel California

As the Pharisee's Golden Bells 

Hidden all around us 

Rings

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

The Jilted Grooms Monologue

Press play before reading. Salute.

(A lone voice whispers)

Is there nothing more wicked that you could do to me

In front of everyone to see

As I sit here after being alone in that beautiful vicar's annexe room

But all said done

I'm still crying out for you and for some much-needed hope and sympathy

All I ever wanted was some divine blessings

Love and understanding so you could change

And find peace for all those sad times you went missing after work

I know you heard me crying

When you saw me in church last week before the wedding

Praying and kneeling

Trying to burn away all those old feelings and temptations to confront you

Which are still so terrifying

I just wish you'd forgive me

For deep inside  

All this old pain is constantly swirling and rising

And it's why I'm no longer smiling

For life without you as my fabulous wife

Feels like I'm slowly dying and being cut open by emotions sharp knife

Raw sensations which just keep twisting

Growing and shouting to be heard in this eerie silence

I know there can be no more hiding

No refuge from the irrefutable truth why you left

No more buying expensive sparkling diamond rings to turn off my warning bells and sirens

No more red wine and opening shining elegant gifts

No matter how perfect the timing is

So I'll just keep trying to cope

Hoping in time I'll grow strong enough to keep fighting

Strong enough to find out who was waiting on the other side

Strong enough to stop drowning in tears

Strong enough to find hope and try to restart celebrating

And in time  

God willing

Find me that piece of treasure that will instantly light up my sad life like you once did

Like a bolt of bright lightning

But until then  

If you ever see me crying

Just know it's my price for trying to come into Gods house to exchange vows

Whilst carrying an invisible suitcase

Filled with stories of your cheating and lying

(C)  

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared from Pinterest. Fair usage policy applies.

(Before you enquire: of course it's made up :nerd:)

The Monologue of William Shakespeare the 4th

It's 5.15 am, on the 6th of December, 2020. 

Listening to some glorious, evocative French music. 

Press plays as he speaks to you. 

If your technology allows you to read as it plays.

Salute. 

This whispered into life as I visualised a new scene. 

A dark stage swimming in total darkness.

A bright white spotlight suddenly appears, and a man, wearing a white shirt.

Tired looking and unshaven. 

Steps into view. 

His eyes are wet with tears and filled with anguish.

Will you listen as his voice speaks? 

Am I attracted to the darkness as you eloquently so

Quickly state 

Do I need God’s salvation

To truly find ways to try to set me free

Well 

Shall I begin before you tar and feather me

With hate

Amongst such carefully crafted tales of embracing the soft contaminating hands 

Of your perceived ideas 

Relating to primordial sin

Just because I like to explore all themes

Known to mankind

As I peel back their many sometimes invisible layers 

The Darkness

Love and the glorious Lights

And everything just

Hanging in-between

That I sometimes see

An old biosphere saturated with every known plight

I willingly visit to explore 

At the stroke of midnight 

Each and every night 

The Metaphysical

Wild stories of the Spiritual

Entwined with the raw emotions of humanity at their very core

The rights and wrongs

Ups and downs

Does that make me more at risk spiritually 

Of being attacked by low spirits and corrupted

As all my emotional energies

In doing so

Gets occasionally

Deeply interrupted 

Perhaps more likely than most

But doesn't it also identify and qualify me

Amongst God’s always-watching Angels 

As being someone worth saving

As I'm more willing to delve into all those unspoken realms 

To create and share new posts

Whilst enduring a bout of the 90s

Whilst cohesively word raving

I know I push the metaphorical white envelope

Spiritually wise 

More than most

But I'm afraid I cannot be that mundane man

You wish to own

For to do so 

To my own higher self

Would be telling

Such a deep and eternally soul-destroying lie

One from which I could never ever bare to carry 

Deep inside 

For it would condemn me and this brave white and black fearless horse 

I ride

Gattuso

So if you still want a man

Who blindly follows your religious vows and unbending rules 

And perceived ideas

Relating to your illuminating visions of heaven and hell

You'll just have to seduce another 

And put them under your mysterious seductive spells

Don’t we all have an inherent right to explore all we see 

Like when we were once young

Just like a curious innocent child

I am not attracted to the darkness 

Or the ancient words or phrases

That drive secretive occult tribes irrevocable wild

I just use them as a theme 

When creating more evocative mazes

For curious minds to wonder and stumble through

As they add a more mysterious feel

When they choose to transmigrate 

Right out of the blue

In my opinion 

To a mind unaccustomed to hearing or reading 

Such strange themes

Or visually simulating memes

Is that wrong of me 

As I peel back the Realms of Humanities 

Many layers

Or shall I simply write more safe stuff

Blessed by your ideals of the Holy Ghost

Some say the Devil appears unexpectedly like a silent player

When you call him the most

But doesn't also God

I call to the Almighty more than you'll ever know

You are more religious than me 

My dearest Amélie

Due to your deep biblical knowledge and church affiliations

I am only a poor soul whose mother was once a priestess

Of a new age of such uniqueness 

  

We are such a world brimming with profound fluctuating contradictions

A wild juxtaposition of raw values at the very core

Like the magical stories of paganism versus the righteous beliefs

Held rigidly by the indomitable Vatican

God speaks to us in so many different ways.

Maybe it’s in my fast-flowing bloodstreams 

Is that why I was saved so many times in my early life 

Because I was foretold to write about The Eternal Dream 

To finally find myself standing beside you

One dark and mysterious night

Who knows

When we first started exchanging love letters

So long ago

Did I break something so sacrosanct between us 

By making our exchanges more visceral in nature 

Which my inner voice always said was so wrong

And

Fate would turn our beloved relationship to eventual dust

The vigorous sides of our exchanges broke that innocence 

We once found between ourselves

In the early morning

Serenaded and heralded by a beautiful silence 

And was that the devious corruption 

I unconsciously invited into my life 

As I now reflect 

By reading and writing about so many deep and dark controversial 

Hidden subjects

A long while ago

As our corresponding conversations got slowly deeper and deeper

I was warned this would happen 

By Guardian Angels

Sent to watch over and teach us 

That you would need something so much more 

Which I couldn’t give you 

Even when you demanded it 

To earn your trust

I was only 

Trying in the beginning 

To be a friend

To someone who through words

I could see was so lonely

Should I be ashamed of anything 

Now this house of beautiful cards 

We once built 

Falls and descends and we can no longer 

Enter that White Room of no End

We created to hide within 

So now as we part ways 

When you eventually hear this 

Since we are no longer 

Friends

Will I miss tasting the soft tones of your name 

And all those dulcet sounds 

Which once helped to transcend 

Those painful strands of emotions 

Which still linger and dutifully 

remains

Only I will know the true answers 

And will never reveal them 

As they may show the outskirts and deep centre of my inner realm

My red statues of my true vulnerabilities and everlasting pain

Well as I speak 

As this beautiful French singer 

Devours my very emotions with such earth-shattering poise

This is my final goodbye

My only muse

My old broken world

 

A new realm beckons 

And I will carry you gloriously into it 

Like a mystical red rose

To illuminate 

The encroaching darkness

Wherever my new boat sails

Over the dark oceans of life

That continuously

Flows 

Even though my soul train now travels so fast on blacken rails

That now glows 

For all its once strong brakes have blown

I'll hold on to those pocketful of memoirs

Once written and composed 

Wherever I go

To help transcend so many dark nights

And when those beautiful memories of you

Suddenly re-appear

at random

I will always feel blessed

To have once had you as mine

A soft hand to hold

Which once helped 

To lead me out of the darkness of loneliness 

With love as your white burning candle

Un jour, les brumes se sépareront

Et nous ne ferons plus de mal

One day the mists will part and we will no longer hurt

*End of monologue 

With a long look at an invisible audience with painful eyes overflowing with tears 

He retreats slowly back into the darkness 

The spotlight then fades into the blackness 

A monologue for a new piece.

I hope you enjoyed the emotional journey. 

Salute. 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

The Queen of the Deep Forest

I hope she still waits

That rebellious wild woman of such irreducible taste 

Glimmer and sublime guile

Whose bright eyes still shine with the illustrious glow of that illuminated flame

Which was once stolen by brave Prometheus 

From heavens dark skies

Enhancing her beautiful face

Making her look like Morgana the Cunning sorceress in the Arthurian legends

From where all her pagan blood flows

For 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

Where we still meet as I stroll

Standing singing eloquently in her candlelit circle

To the moon and watching skies as its white clouds 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 hypnotised and conjured by the delicious sounds 

Of her golden ringing summoning bells

Copyright John Duffy

The Ballad of The Recalled. A passage from the hidden books of the Goddess Diana.

(A lone voice whispers)

Within a silent dream-like whisper just after midnight

I once heard your faint calls

You whispered so softly preaching in the half-light

That silvery gulf of divinity between us

With such quite majestic thunderous proclamations of sacred truths

Be a vivid illumination  

You confessed

For the world is still so beautiful if you really look below the dark frontiers of bleeding despair

A divine kingdom awaits

Just hiding beneath the many disgraceful layers of political spin

Crushed dreams and depressing days where once rapturous hearts will unfortunately tear

But you are all still a child of a universe unseen

You all have a god-given right to still dare to cling onto dreams

So learn to nurture all your strength in cold days of misfortune and strengthen through faith and profound conviction

Your protective shield to always try to redeem

Dispell 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 are your own mighty defenders

Just don't be deceived by the many false pretenders

In these long days of ever-growing darkness and receding lights

In the middle of this

Your own 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 in what you choose to sing or write

Ignite like an exploding thunderous New Years Eve 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

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

Passionate for new bells that now chime

From here into infinity

Bells now which 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

Now we are young and 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

To 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 recalled  

  

(C)  

Copyright John Duffy

What if Earth is Purgatory?

 (A lone voice whispers)

What if you're living in your own version of purgatory on Earth

For eternal souls never like us never grow old

Just tasked with living and breathing

To be tempted by demons and angels

While searching for love or redemption

For we never grow old

Baptised to choosing between good and evil as we walk

Its well-trodden roads

As new introductions are subtlety introduced as they unfold

(C)

Copyright John Duffy