. Poetry from The Great In-Between

Monday, December 5, 2022

The Pilgrims Poem

  Press play before you read.

Salute.


If only we had understood the justifications


I wouldn't be composing these stanzas here 


in old Jerusalem


If only we had realized all those painful tragic answers  


To come


We would have stopped them from happening 


And took no chances 

At the very beginning 

 

If only we knew this day would be returning 


We would have tried to stop it before our hearts started burning


But we never saw it coming 


And never disputed your stories saying so


Of which there were plenty


We believed we were to be together forevermore 


To walk hand in hand 

In all weathers


We never felt deserted 

Even though it felt 

You were always away 


Praying or preaching 


But in the process of living

Our hearts gave up and cried


When on that wooden cross 

Before us


All our hopes of forgiveness  

And absolution 


Just looked us in the eyes

Stopped breathing and quietly died


As we placed you in the tomb with Joseph 


And rolled forth that heavy stone


It felt to some 

As though we'd never met


But to us who really knew you

Our hearts can never forget


As I watched some cry and express hate for our Lord's fate 


I too despised of what I'd become 

Of late


I wished I'd had more time with you

To learn more as I laid you in that tomb


I thought you were taken from us and sent so far away 


To soon


But the rumors say you've risen


Oh, how happy we all are that you escaped deaths cold prison 


We all remembered when you said you wouldn't leave


That if in me, you do believe and if we didn't 


What would this world be like 


If you wouldn't in our hearts 

Still be living


Well, that's now all in the past 

As we gather here 

On this beautiful Sunday


To pray in these moments for forgiveness of all our earthly sins 


In this hidden backroom 

Here in Jerusalem


To fall in love with faith once more now you've risen from the tomb


A dark place where we left you a few days ago 


To lay all alone


We hope the world of the future sees the truth


For to truly believe you don't need any proof


For faith is a delicate thing


Don't just look for it in well-written books or scripture


Don't look for it at night or in day


Don't let it weep and recede or wither and just walk away 


Just believe in something greater


It's how he'll find you and reintroduce you to your maker


For as Nicodemus was once asked.


"How can a man be born when he is old?"


"Surely he cannot enter a second time into his mother's womb to be born!"


You answered, 


"I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit.


Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit."


So to all you readers who may read this in the near future 


Just listen for the Almighty's great voice 


And with faith in something greater than anything 


You could possibly comprehend


You'll know in your heart it's him 


If you're just open to hearing it 


Just pray 

Now and again


And always end with a smile 


And an almighty Amen


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


Saturday, December 3, 2022

Leonardo speaks in 2022.

 


Press play before reading.
Salute.



 (A lone voice whispers)



Well 



It's into the first week 

Of December 2022



And have all those invisible tears 

Linked to emotional streams



About someone missing 

Which are transcendental

 


Started falling again 



As you remember 



Someone 

so special



At Christmas 



Do they 



The delicious memories

Sometimes 



Overwhelm you 

Whatever you do 



Can you ever be relieved 

From leaving 



All those sad days  

Gone past 

Behind



You may quietly ask 



Days that seem to forever 

Linger and last  



Like an unwanted preacher

Who's a religious outcast 



Is it mysteriously silent 



As you read this 

And reminisce 



Before the Wild Hunt begins 



And do the freeways  



Beneath your shadowy 

Bedroom window sills 



Chime and vibrate  



With the sounds of life 

And all its mayhem 



Slowly approaching 



Like 

The Wild Hounds 

Of the Baskervilles 



Roaming 

The Berkshire Foothills



Crying out aloud 



Sending out echoes 

Of a sense 

Of impending doom 



Subjugating 

Your very small room



Or does the scent 

Of a new escape 



From that old oblivion 

Of 2022



Into 2023



Haunt and follow you 

Like a glorious ghoul 



Covered in pagan 

Impressions 



Magical symbols 

Of The Great Work 



Only known about 

Through absolution 

And confession 



Old feelings of Hell 



Been dissolved 

By all your five senses 



In each second 



As you remember 

What your sovereignty is



As they yell 



For their own 

Liberating rights of succession 



Rounding up calls 

For a new rebirth 



Invoked in prayers  

Sent up to Heaven 



From here 

On Earth



I can only hope 

You all still dare to dream 



Of enjoying your 

Old freedoms



Which are now 

Deemed by those 



Sitting up high 

In society 



As forbidden



A sacred place 

where those wild 

Untameable horses 



Of your innermost obsessions 

And yearnings 



Can be openly ridden



Into a new 

Ever-expanding kingdom 



As you pray for divine salvation 

And understanding 



To create 

A new altar to build upon



What says you 



Can you handle 

Whatever impulses 



You stumble upon 



Before your time living 

Has gone



For I can only show you 

Themes 



You were perhaps 

Blinded to 



Like the mighty Oberon



But only you can build 

A castle of strength up 



From those foundations 



Your soul is

Standing on 


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


Image shared under fair usage policy via Pinterest. 

Friday, December 2, 2022

The Undelivered Nursing Home Letter

 




Press play before reading. Salute 


Hey
Ma 


Susan said you're feeling down


So here's a letter 
To fix that upside-down smile


Here goes......

________________________


You need
No more 


To look
On social media


You need 
No more


To crawl into bed
Feeling
Sad and alone


You need
No more


To craw about life
And why it's so raw


But by remembering
Gratitude 


To instead
Roar internally 
Like no other


So listen
Dearest Mother


Don't lament getting older

For old age is like a small sin 



That haunts the wise

Like a spy



But one you shall defeat
So heed my advice


For the world's but a strange stage


And you're just another name

In an endless history


Written in gold letters 

On a long gilded immortal page



So keep walking
On bravely


Be proud to still live
And be glad


You can just
Smile and wave


A gift denied to many

From old family and to good friends


Now sleeping sadly
In their graves


For you've got
So much more love



To still receive and give

As you age



So please don't pause 

And greave


For material things
You haven't still received


For all those emotional needs


Are simply
Some of the Tall Man's 

Devious tools


He uses to deceive


Just try to be happy this 

Christmas


I know you're eighty-two


But life
Is just like 

An unfinished business


And when it finally ends
As you kneel in Heaven


Asking your
Most High


For forgiveness



One thing you don't want to feel

Or to be filled with


Is sadness


So smile


Look around and embrace
All you've still got


For so many still love you
And you'll forever be our
Camelot


A beautiful soul


Symbolizing all that embodies true womanliness


By creating a magical time 

Growing up


In such a safe place



Within an atmosphere of idyllic happiness


See you soon 
And
Love you forever 
Ma

Happy Xmas
Xxx

Wednesday, November 30, 2022

An Ode to Love

(A lone voice whispers) 



Is Love


Like finding a South Philippine Dwarf Kingfisher



One of the World's 
Rarest birds 



A much-welcome visitor 
To see and treasure 



Sunbathing in the sun 



Or does it sometimes 
Fly high 



Like an extraordinary Golden Eagle



Over all emotional 
Physical or Spiritual 
Battlefields 



As it goes-to-war 



With family 
Friends 
Religion or politics 



For true love never 
Yields 



Or is it just like a form of 
Fast Love



 
That just runs 
And hits the road 



Looking for a new lascivious episode



After its heavy load 
Explodes 

When it's had it's fun
 
 

(C) 
Copyright John Duffy 

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Sunday, November 27, 2022

The God of Sleep Speaks

    


Press play so the music can wash over you as you read. Salute.



Are you carefully scrutinized by undiscovered forces from another realm? 


Do we in the mist, live forever


Many of your types I pass daily but especially at midnight


When I sit on the edge of their bed


Have always asked

 

Even though we're all invisible

We still hear you 



As you struggle to confide in the forbidden silence



Especially in the last dregs of sunlight before dusk


Are we, immortal souls
You continuously question


What would you do with all that time



Would it drive you right out of your mind


Well, here's my answers 


Just for you to read before you turn to dust


In here


This dark place known to the enlightened few 


As The Shadow Lands


Where I now exist and drink almond ambrosia 


To worship and pray alone

 

Commissioned until eternity 
To strive to excite lost souls 



To confess as a penance 


I've been anointed with 
As my chance to find a means 
To atone


Sacrificed deserted lonely souls 

Who stumble and end up my way


Through random long or short legions of linear poetry


And like a drunken James Brown


I gather them around 
To listen what my words mean 
And say


While high on whiskey and singing 


Papa's Got A New Bag 
Globally 


Dressed like my prototype



Good old Bob Dylan in black


When he once faced his own faithful hurricane


I sometimes entertain them by dancing wildly 


Lyrically 


In a smoke-filled circle 
With the all-time king of pop


Michael Jackson


Whilst moon-walking in grey skies


Watched by others 
And the occasional falling star


My agastopia of delicious lines 

Grace their minds



Like a new friend I was recently introduced to


Hugh Hefner


The one famous for all those damned but hot


Playboy’s pictures


That send adolescent and immature mind's cerebral cortex's 

And libidos 


Totally insane


I sometimes stand in the half-light 


Telling them 


I'm so strong and powerful like that Thandie Newton


The one who once found strength 


Self-worth and power in a new Westworld 



Whilst being reborn again and again


My words are whispered enchantments you see


Spells sent just to serenade your tired bored five senses 


Filled with a crescendo of rising fire like when Marlon Brando


Embraced emancipation while causing total carnage


Death and eventual apocalypse


In Cambodia 


As he boarded that fateful flight 707 from The Seventies 


Dreaming of his girl next door he left home


Called Sophia 


Am I a sceptic like some say or just a wide-boy spectator


A majestic soother like an out-worldly philosopher 


Or just a beguiling collaborator


Can you feel me


You ought to


I am simply giving you a mixture of words


Gracing your insatiable eyes


Through cheap or expensive plastic movie screens


As I hide in the dangerous depths 


Of the twenty-first century's fast-flowing mobile streams


For I'm just a beautiful old beast


A heaven-sent narrator


Steamrolling through with lustrous glossy keys 


To all the so many wet lesser brothels of your mind


As you sit watching and casually sipping these sweet-tasting words as you read


And just like so many


 I already know 


You'll soon become gloriously addicted to my cheap bottles of poetic mead 


You see
I'm just a non-living fossil


A mesmerising essence from bygone days 


Mentioned only once  in The Great Golden Books of The Byzantine 


I celebrate on Tuesdays and Sundays 


By going knee-deep into humanities new future


MK Ultraing new intellects forever


To live just to love me


As I program them
Like an expensive computer geek


I'm a mixture of all of life's sweet-tasting 
aromas and scarred sacred baggage's


Can you feel me yet


Am I just behind you


Watching and walking


As you stride out bravely in front


Or am I standing hiding 


Just beyond sight and keeping firmly closed


All the smokey doorways to all your dreams


Can you feel me like Old Nick


One of my dearest buddies whose everlasting


God that guy loves stalking you all like an ageless Marquis


Me


I'm just a once unvisited world of beguiling words


Just conceived into being by the 


Elemental unspoken old Gods from mystical Talen


Tasked to slowly just consume your earthly time 



Of three scores and if you're lucky, ten


Can you feel my bony fingers stroking those secretive rooms 


The one's barely visited 
when you're awake and drunk 


With this plane of existence many addictive potions


But the secret ones you always use your golden keys to open and visit


When you dream 
and it's then and only then


That you'll see me


As I appear before you
Dressed in blue


To stimulate your mind to carefully unwind


All those old sometimes painful threads 


And through finding your own catharsis 


The freedom to write 

Sing or just to express yourself to be free


(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image source: Pinterest.

The Message from Salvatore Delacroix

(A lone voice whispers)


Press play before reading.

Salute.



I saw you 


Watching
From


The Great In-Between


The prettiest girl
I've ever seen


You look so sad 
You're not with me


After I got constantined


Sent back to the Great Divine


To cry about
What could have been


Me and you
King and queen


Now all
Just a dream


Why did this
Happen to me


Why did Death
Lean on me


Take me
To The Great In-Between


To watch
Through my Scrying Glass


The prettiest
Girl
I've ever seen


So all I can do
Is pine and whine


Hiding behind
This
Smoke screen


Watching
Through
My Scrying Glass


From The Great In-Between


The saddest girl


The world now
Has ever seen


One day
We'll be together
Again


Just don't know when


It's why I've sent this 

 
To you

With my scrying pen


Just keep
Strong


And love
Living


For Death is so
Unforgiving


So as my final
Amen


Just know

Soon



We'll be together
Again


(C)
Copyright John Duffy


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Rules of Living. Number 10.



Sometimes in this life 


(5)


Fake smiling is all you got 


(7)


When tragedy strikes 


(5)


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


A senryu must be exactly 3 lines.


Like a Haiku, a senryu must follow the 5-7-5 format:


The first line must have 5 syllables.


The second line must have 7 syllables.


The third line must have 5 syllables.


A senryu focuses on humans and usually contains irony.


It usually focuses on human nature.


It is not written about nature or the seasons.

A senryu does not have to rhyme.


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Friday, November 25, 2022

Do you want some gold?

 


Press play before reading. Salute.



(A lone voice sings the Blues)



Ain't  

No gold 


In wishing 

Your life away


Sang the old man 

By the river 



Ain't no gold

If you're gonna play by rules 


Created by fools



Ain't no gold 

Forever 



If you love saying 

Whatever 



Ain't no gold 

And no hope 

To cope 



If you won't swim upriver 



No point in dancing 

If you won't go 

Chancing 



So what you gonna choose 

If you want gold 


And you've got nothing 

To lose


Are you so stuck in your ways 


That you never need to 

Pray 


Have you good intentions 


And dreams too big 

To mention



But right now 



Confession of the soul  

Follows you 



Everywhere you go 

Like stunning rainbow



But even though 

It probably won't show 



That rainbow could lead you 

To all the gold you'll ever need 



Happiness 



Not that yellow stuff  

Linked to greed 

And eternal madness 



So there 


Ain't  

No gold 


In wishing 

Your life away


Sang the old man 

By the river 



Ain't no gold

If you're gonna play by rules 


Created by fools



There ain't no gold 

Forever 



If you love saying 

Whatever 



Ain't no gold 

And no hope 

To cope 



If you won't swim upriver 



So there no point in dancing 

If you won't go 

A chancing 



So what you gonna choose 

If you want gold 


And you've got nothing 

To lose


Are you so stuck in your ways 


That you never need to 

Pray 


Have you good intentions 


And dreams too big 

To mention


But right now 


Confession of the soul  

Follows you 



Everywhere you go 

Like stunning rainbow



But even though 

It probably won't show 



That rainbow could lead you 

To all the gold you'll ever need 



Happiness 



Not that yellow stuff  

Linked to greed 


And eternal madness



(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


Image shared under fair usage policy from Pinterest.



Tuesday, November 22, 2022

Have you met Emotional Pain, yet?


(A lone voice whispers)


Some say 


In the eerie twilight of a broken heart 


That wild metaphysical thing called Emotional Pain 


Created by whatever you call your Gods 


Judgment
By name 


Is but a mesmerizing shapeshifter


Who suddenly appears like
An angel-winged curator


Simply to toy with your human nature 


As it constantly fluctuates between states 


And realms of
Love and Hate 


Until you acquiesce
Bow down and worship 


Whichever one you prefer 


At the touch and kiss
Of her brother called Fate 


For so long ago 


When Pure Love was young and innocent 


With the power to stir
Emotions 


Emotional Pain was breathed into life 


For once Love ends 


You may not remember in time

Who you used to date 


Or where you were


But you'll surely swim in a new ocean 


As you are forced 

To remember her



( C)
Copyright  John Duffy

Image shared from Pinterest under fair usage policy

Monday, November 21, 2022

The Writers Monologue

 



(A lone voice whispers)



We and all

Our kin 



Are like the many unknown names 

Courageously written and weaved



Into

The Secret Books of History 



Many would never believe



Souls

Mysteriously walking upon wet shores 



Of a fourth planet 

Spinning in the deepest of space



Our devotion holding us

Knee deep in rivers of love or hate 



In the human race



As if we were nearly buried alive



And with newly empowered adrenalin-filled eyes 



We witness daily

The stunning emotional explosions worldwide  



And like worshippers of rediscovered Old Gods



We try to create a new written 



Golden Age of Byzantium in words



Filled with only fine art and poetic pieces 



We 

The word shapers who hide in the wild woods of our keeps



Where we sleep 

By firelight



Until the moon rises and kisses her lover 



Father Sky



Announcing us to wake 



To then slowly write on soft pages 



In our own

Books of Red Pleasure



Stories 



To be perused and used 

By soft fingertips 



And lonely hearts  

For their own inquisitions 



And at their leisure



We will write about seeing the true face of the world 



As the Wolf Moon rises



As we lie sated 



Upon the ever-flowing Sands of Fate 



We will record

For historical footprints 



In Digital ink



How the new forms of circumscription begin



We will create unique raw 

intuitive insights 



In the longest of nights 



Creating legacies

Which may ignite minds



To be then lit up 



Like Guy Fawkes on Bonfire night 



Heralding a new vision 



Of a twisted version of a place 



Corrupted by the father of temptation and the power of the pound or dollar 



To invoke sin



And as we look on 

As old empires fall



We will pray to the skies 

Like primitive tribes 



For we are but some of the mythical Narrators



Eternal Scribes

Who'll never grow old 



We 

Who create a millennium of hidden stories



In time 



Simply to hijack any inquisitive minds 



They can find



For 

We are just reborn endlessly as poets 


Writers and

Singer-songwriters today 



No longer

Residents of any known time frames 



That can seduce

And lead you into 



The Brown Fields of Disarray



But just souls sentenced again 



From The Purple Story Houses 



In The Great In-Between



To feed curious minds

Which are perpetually ravenous for shorties



Just like you 



To explore these few words 

With an overwhelming need  



To consume 



Short enchanting new glorious stories like these 


Written by firelight 

In my holy room 


Thanks for reading and until the next time. 


Remember, it's great to à deux!



Readers and writers 

Do it all the time


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


Circumscription


In this context:

Restrict (something) within limits.


A Deux 


Adjective . : involving two people especially in private. A cozy evening à deux.


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The Resurrection Leaf