For The Woman in my Dreams

(A lone voice whispers)

We met so long ago

By the Hidden Creek 

Of the Lone Cherokee

Somewhere up

In the magical circle 

In wild black bear

High-tree country

In good old Tennessee 

Surviving with torn-out hearts

And broken in two dreams

We locked eyes 

From somewhere so deep

That Morpheus couldn't tempt us 

To go to sleep

Time flew by 

Happiness 

Came like a gift from 

On High

But now 

Deep down inside

We weep 

And silently

Cry

Broken just a little bit more

Tiredness 

Creeping up relentlessly 

Even More

By life and its wealth of sacred wars

And all the tragic things 

You can never really prepare for

But since we met so long ago

By the Creek of the Lone Cherokee

Lost 

Just looking for something irreplaceable

That's so incredible and sustainable 

In the outbacks of good old Tennessee 

Survivors

With torn-out hearts

And broken in two dreams

Gods must have heard our pleas

And pulled us 

Together

For we found something so 

Precious

Its reverence 

To this very day

In all known weathers

Drives and still 

Possesses us

For our love goes 

Beyond the physical world 

But lies instead

In the hotbed of the spiritual 

Where it will live forever 

In the hereafter

For there is nothing on Earth 

That can be compared 

To the sweet love 

Of a beautiful 

everlasting friend

Until the very end

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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The Song of the Shadow Queen

Press play before reading. Salute.

(A lone voice sings so low)

Tis but a beautiful dream 

To dream the 

Greatest 

Of all known 

Dreams

Tis but a dream 

To see or hear me

The sweetest voice 

In all the Matrix

Called

The Shadow Queen

Tis but a dream 

To hold my hand

Tis but a dream 

To dance entwined 

Listening

To my marching 

Whistling

New Orleans bands

Tis but a dream  

To dare to dream 

Alone at 

Midnight

When you pray 

And there seems

To be

No hope

Or light

Just call to me

Tonight

And I'll come knocking 

On your Astral Doors

In full flight 

At the edges 

Of all

Your mind knows

And like a veteran of so many foreign wars

I'll whisper in the 

Encroaching shadows

Have you been

Alone and lost

Fought a battle 

And paid the cost

Walked by people 

Who now says

That's just another 

Poor soul

Who's lost their way

On Loves 

Broken-down highways

So 

Let me in

To your soul's 

Inner circle

For this offer

Comes with no rehearsals

 

Just let me be

Your new

Saint called Augustine 

The bringer 

Of so many luscious 

Sins 

Just

Let me in 

From the cold 

Of The Great In-Between 

So all our unexplored fun

Can begin

So you can worship me 

On your knees

And call out to me

By my secret occult name

The Shadow Queen 

To sing 

With a loud piercing scream

Tis but a dream 

To dream the deep dream

Tis but a dream

To see her

The new Mary 

Called After Magdalene

Of 

The Great 

In-Between

Tis but a dream 

To hold her hand

Tis but 

The greatest of dreams

To 

Listen and follow 

Into the Green Hollow

Her marching 

Whistling

New Orleans bands

To a place

We can wait and pray

For tomorrow

Arm in Arm

Hand in hand

Baptised forever

To feel no sorrow

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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The Words of the Boatman. Charon.

(A lone voice whispers)

At the very end

Can all that saves your soul

Be

A once in a lifetime taste

Of Mother Loves 

Sweet kiss

That even in death

You will always miss

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy from Pinterest.

Are you living in your own version of Purgatory, on Earth?

Are you living in your own version of Purgatory, on Earth?

(A lone voice whispers)

What if you're living in your own version of Purgatory

On Earth

For eternal souls never like us 

Can 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

Image shared under fair usage policy from Pinterest.

An Angel Speaks

(A lone voice whispers)

Do you ever feel me 

As you anxiously sleep

Touching your mind 

To open a portal

To gently

Creep in

To cross The Great In-Between

As your soul quietly weeps

Sliding silently between warm arms

To wipe away 

All those wet tears 

You've once cried

Filled with harm

To soothe your spirit

From the outside 

And inside

But as soon as the cockerel starts to crow

Under the gaze of the early morning sun

I just fly or run 

To disappear into the Dreamy Ether

Of The Great Divide

To pray with your loved ones

And speak in tongues

To send you strength

Before you too hear the 

Golden Drum

And arrive 

To open arms

After you've hit your last 

Home run 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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Do you believe?

 A lone voice whispers.

I once knelt at St Paul's and prayed so hard for true love

And  

When the sunshine finally came and lit you up

Like a shimmering lake of bright lights 

I knew deep down inside

I'd finally found some spiritual magic

To carry me through all my long

Upcoming nights 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Images shared under fair usage policy from Pinterest. 

 

Have you been to Shamballa?

  

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

Salute.

(A lone voice whispers)

Like a lonely

Helpless castaway 

Walking 

Lost

Amongst inner indistinct stars 

In my deep sleep

I opened my green eyes

Yearning

To gaze upon the blue 

Undulating

Seas of Tranquillity

Beyond fear

Reason or hope

Looking for a new 

Freedom

Beyond irreducible traces 

Of all known possibilities 

To try to cope

With this thing 

Broken in two

But instead

When my emerald eyes 

Opened

I saw I had ventured

To the soft sandy shores 

Illuminated by magnificent 

Sparkling red candlelights

A place where lost souls travel to 

In The Off Limits Zones

When feeling lonely 

 

Or depressed 

At midnight

Within this beloved 

Sleeping state

With a sharp crackle 

Of unearthly thunder and lightning 

You appeared

And I saw you

The only one

Bequeathed

Who I had been 

Summoning

And as we met 

And embraced 

Upon those lucid 

Imagined seashores

And held on to each other so 

Tightly 

I wondered down 

Deep spiritual paths

Mentally 

To the Nexus 

Of all my Eternity

Past the crying 

Banshee Queens

The spellbound 

Soul Keepers 

Of all Humanity 

Past the forgotten 

Pagan Ages 

Of Dark Shadows

Once so long ago cast 

By The Wing Makers 

From The Black Holes 

Of Bastos

And

Thought

As the world around me spun

Like a revolving glass kaleidoscope 

Will she still love me tonight 

Wherever she is

This ageless beauty I always 

Seem to chase 

To run to

In full flight

The one I once wished 

To live with 

Until my last night

Who still leaves me 

Lonely and drowning 

In cold wet tears 

In the middle of this plight

Or am I just another nightly 

Visitor

To that magnificent seashore

I visit 

Just past the Merovingian lightning

Solar Storms

As I dream 

Always appearing to walk 

Its twisted dark pathways 

Towards

A dark place filled with self ruination

With so many others 

To that dam place

I am cursed

To revisit 

And dream about

On the stroke of every midnight 

Shamballa

The Wetlands of the Unforgiving

The Island of the Lost

In the Great In-Between

Where Ageless Elementals 

Stalk and hunt the living 

As they wander around 

Lost

In the 5th Mystical Realm

Of the 

Unseen  

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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If Evil had a name. Would one be...Politician?

 

(A lone voice whispers)

If we

Legion

The bringers of absolute corruption had a name

Our human name 

Would be that 

Of nearly all politicians

Worldwide 

For we

The Collective 

Are like the long-lost twins 

Of the legendary painting 

Of Dorian Gray

Greedy inhabitants of secret societies 

Just hidden in plain sight

Which lies in the middle of any town or city

Even those listed

So faraway 

And after the stroke of midnight

When you 

And all the world 

Sleeps

With no sense of decency or a drop of pity

Me and my ilk  

Peel back 

The black silt 

And write new corrupted laws

To push-up taxes and write cruel inhuman legislation 

That we then invoke 

With ceremonial magic

To creep in

To then drink victorious in paid-for bars

Roaring in jest

Like hungry sea devils

From the sopping wet shores 

Of your nightly dreams

As your soul  

In daylight 

Watches the news 

In blinded servitude 

And like unchained slaves 

You all unconsciously weep 

Depressed 

About all our so obvious 

Deceits

For while you all 

Unknowingly sleep

Every week

Every minute

We smile 

Wave

And continue 

To make 

Dystopian plans

To control and contain you

From your taxpayers keeps 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Politics

Poli

Derived from the Ancient Greek πολύς polús

Meaning many, much.

 

Tics

Ticks are external parasites, living by feeding on the blood of mammals, birds, and sometimes reptiles and amphibians.

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Have you been to Tribulation City

Press play before you read. Salute.

(A lone voice whispers)

Have you been to Tribulation City 

When quite a severe darkness started residing 

In the centre of your soul

Without pity

A deep place where nobody now visits 

A secret place no one can ever know

Exists

As you act to hide the pain 

Like the lead actor

In a Hollywood show 

Did your wild rose get plucked

Intimately by someone you thought you loved

Only to be left 

Wilting 

Heartbroken and feeling totally exposed and juxtaposed 

Some say the true price of knowing love 

Is to endure loss 

At some time 

So have you been an actor 

In one of its endless plays

Titled

Love Crimes

Filled with wild emotions

That just live to pivot 

Between Love

And all its rainbows of total devotion

All the time

To hate

Where so many go

To drown in its boiling-hot oceans

Of feelings 

Which becomes the only paradigm 

They know

I too 

Still miss my old love

As times flows

A woman of such stunning grace

Moses have would have surely wept 

If he could have only seen 

Her glorious face

But it's now too late

And I'm just another lost soul

Feeling so guilty

Walking 

Lost in the evergrowing crowds 

Of those never at peace

 

Where a lone drum beats 

Forever looking for Lilly 

In the mean streets of

Tribulation City 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Inspired by quite a sad film I watched, late last night.

We've all been to Tribulation City if we're honest.

Everyone has had a painful breakup. 

Maybe from youth or even recently.

Going from the incredible highs to the sudden depressing lows.

It's 3.43 am, and I'm planning strategies for next week. 

Do all-driven personalities ever get enough sleep?

Answers are welcome on a postcard to:

 

123 Insomnia Avenue

Just Past The Park

Never Never Land 

Be safe all. Salute.

tribulation

/ˌtrɪbjʊˈleɪʃ(ə)n/

Learn to pronounce

noun

1. a cause of great trouble or suffering.

   • a state of great trouble or suffering.

     
     

If Grief was a Senryu

• 
  
• 
• 
  
• 
  
•   Like a message lost
• 
  
• As unknown high seas claimed them
• 
  
• Should you swim to look
• 
  
• 
  
• (C)
• Copyright John Duffy
• 
  
• 
  
• A recent theme from an exploration of human emotions.
• 
  
• The questions asked in quiet reflection of the soul, enduring grief.
• 
  
• Should we cling onto those dearly, departed?
• 
  
• 
  
• The Sea
• 
  
• 
  
• The metaphor reflecting the emotional ocean of feelings linked to loss.
• 
  
• Such as denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.
• 
  
• 
  
• The image in the bottle.

• Reflects the emotional attachments surrounding the person in question.

Like a message in a bottle.

• 
  
• Such as memories. Stories, etc.
• 
  
• Personally, I think we should always keep looking for them.
• 
  

• To swim deep in that ocean.
• Come what may.
• 
  
• Salute.

• Senryu
• Senryū is a Japanese form of short poetry similar to haiku in construction: three lines with 17 syllables. 

Line 1 has 5.

Line 2 has 7.

Line 3 has 5

• 
  
• Senryū tends to be about human emotions.
• 
  
•