The love song of Shirley O'May

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Salute 

Oh my  

Shirley O'May  

My Shirley O'May  

I still miss your sweet smile  

Today  

Today

  

Caught no more  

Than a ray

Than a ray

Standing  

By your grave  

Is that why  

My sky's always grey  

Always grey  

Oh my  

Oh my  

Shirley O'May  

Shirley O'May  

For my soul felt real pain  

Today  

Real pain today  

When it remembered  

The sacred vow  

We once made  

Once made  

Under the cherry tree  

You and me  

You and me  

With Father Mckay  

Father Mckay  

On Valentine's Day  

Your birthday  

Your birthday  

But I guess  

If God could confess  

Confess  

He would say  

It's why he made  

Memories  

Memories

So those you love  

Like you and me  

Once wed under  

The Cherry Tree  

The Cherry Tree  

So those you love  

Stay  

And never truly fade  

Away

Stay  

But never truly fade  

Away

Oh my  

My beloved  

Shirley O'May  

I still miss your sweet smile  

Even though  

It was taken from me  

On the 5th of May  

On the 5th of May  

Everyday  

Everyday  

For even though  

We have memories  

Memories  

My heart  

Will always feel grey  

Feel grey  

For it will forever miss  

The things it loves  

When they go away

Away  

Like you  

Like You  

My life's first kiss  

My one and only 

Beloved  

Beloved  

Shirley O'May  

Shirley O'May  

  

  

(C)  

Copyright John Duffy

Image courtesy of Pinterest.

Argento Dreams

 (A lone voice whispers)

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Salute.

I've got a deep well 

Covered in strange green and golden ivy

Built under a golden glimmering bell

In my garden of deep lucid dreams 

Lost somewhere in Morpheus Wonder Grounds

It's a quiet beautiful place 

Of total surrender 

I sometimes remember 

As I lay tenderly in my chamber

A place where my profound Guardian Angel 

My eternal 

Muse waits 

My spiritual queen who brings me 

Divine gifts linked to soul-lifting poetry 

Always whispering 

In my subconscious

Dépêche-toi 

Dépêche-toi 

Dépêche-toi 

(Hurry up.)

(Hurry up.)

(Hurry up.)

Dépêche-toi

As she watches from The Great In-Between 

While I play in the real worlds 

Many fast-moving streams

Whilst I'm awake and moving around

But when my tired eyes start to 

Flicker and quiver 

And start to look across at Slumber Down's slow-moving river

She rings that golden magical bell 

To summon me to the Talking Bench 

So my soul 

She may converse with in supernatural 

Visions 

and multiple forms 

And her hungry thirst for company 

Quench 

Dépêche-toi 

Dépêche-toi 

Dépêche-toi 

Is all I hear 

When my tired eyes 

Search for Slumber Downs River 

Along with

Viens à moi mon amour.

Et laissez-moi vous baptiser avec des visions incroyables, d'en haut.

Car nous possédons la nuit, comme nous nous possédons.

Come to me, my love.

And let me baptize you with incredible visions, from so High Above.

For we own the night like we own each other.

Dépêche-toi 

Dépêche-toi 

N'ose jamais m'oublier 

(Don't you ever dare to  forget me )

So who am I 

To let angels weep 

For can just faintly hear that golden bell ring 

Summoning me to The Talking Bench 

As she sings 

Dépêche-toi 

Dépêche-toi 

(Hurry up)

(Hurry up)

Et laisse-moi être ton Hélène de Troie 

(And let me be your Helen of Troy )

Maintenant, endormez-vous 

(Now fall to sleep)

Mon âme sœur et viens dans mon donjon.

(My soul mate and come to my keep)

(C}

Copyright John Duffy 

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Do politicians wear a mask? Some quietly ask.

(A lone voice whispers)

Do politicians wear a mask
Some quietly ask 

One that smiles so sweetly
While it hides their lies 

Linked to promises
Made throughout the weeks 

To desperate eager hungry eyes 

With hearts beating
Powered by odious guile 

And narcissism 

Unable to really answer
Any forms of criticism 

While living in a secret world of elitism 

Which rewards new concepts and policies 

Linked to creating division
While toasting capitalism 

Can we the paying public 

Ever trust all their costly decisions 

Presented with a soft voice of kindness 

Deals and contracts 

Signed and sealed with secret handshakes 

In champagne-filled backrooms 

That will lead so many chanting in glee 

Unable to see 

It will lead them dancing to the cemetery 

So here's today's task 

Can you ever trust a smiling politician 

With bright sharp caring eyes

And a smile as wide as a country mile 

Who obviously
Wears 

A devious mask 

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Images courtesy of Pinterest. 

The Repentant Soul Speaks

 The Repentant Soul Speaks

(A lone voice whispers)

I still miss your sweet voice.

(For deep down.
Past all my innermost self-doubts.
I just miss it so much.)

I can still remember the last time I heard it.

It was June, the thirty-first.
(When we were in touch.)

Its dulcet tones spoke of such delicious, luscious things to be explored in the dark. At night.

To be brave enough to expose and tear one's soul apart.

A once much-held-up secret theory by Descartes.

(For such was its seductive power, like Francisco de Goya's, "The Nude Maja.
A true work of art.)

Is that why life is sometimes so painful.
(As I sit lonely. Thinking of you at my table.)

Thinking constantly of my one and only angel.

I guess I should be grateful.

That I feel remorseful.

For I once heard a strange story about Micheal the Archangel.

Stating quite eloquently.

To have once lived.
Loved and lost.

Is never shameful.

But to have never known love

Now that could be fatal.

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Image courtesy of Pinterest.

Is this where humanity is heading?

 

In these dark times, you need your faith even more. 

An interesting read I recently came across. 

Obviously written tongue in cheek but seems so relevant. 

Salute. 

′One young devil asked the old man:

"How did you manage to bring so many souls to hell?" 

The old devil answered:

 "I instilled fear in them!"

 Answers the youngster: 

"Great job!

And what were they afraid of? 

Wars? Hunger?" 

Answers the man:

 "No, they were afraid of the disease!" 

For this youngster:

 "Does this mean they didn't get sick? 

Are they not dead? 

There was no rescue for them?"

The old man answered:

 "but no . . . they got sick, died, and the rescue was there." 

The young devil, surprised, answered: 

"Then I don't understand???" 

The old man answered:

 "You know they believed the only thing they have to keep at any cost is their lives.

They stopped hugging, greeting each other.

 They've moved away from each other. 

They gave up all social contacts and everything that was human!

 Later they ran out of money, lost their jobs, but that was their choice because they were afraid for their lives, that's why they quit their jobs

 without even having bread.

They believed blindly everything they heard and read in the papers.  

 

They gave up their freedoms, they didn't leave their own homes literally anywhere. 

They stopped visiting family and friends. 

The world turned into such a concentration camp, without forcing them into captivity.  

They accepted everything!!! 

Just to live at least one more miserable day . . .

 And so living, they died every day!!! 

And that's how it was very easy for me to take their miserable souls to hell..... ′′

Don't let the darkness in.

It comes calling in many forms you know!

Hate, fear, jealousy, envy, sloth, politics and so many more. 

Sending best wishes and blessings. 

Be safe in spirit as well as life. Salute.

. 

The Words of The Pagan Priest of λογοτεχνία

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Salute.

 

(A lone voice whispers)

You 

The true rebels of this new technological generation 

Who have dwelled in grateful gratitude 

In these now rare 

Lands of Phantasia 

And smiled into the face of impending Death 

Daily

With never-ending elation 

You

The midnight or daylight writers or readers 

Scattered like bird seeds

Throughout every known nation 

Glistening stars of such literal inspiration 

Worthy of inaugurating into the Fraternity of Holy

Communication 

Let the Love of Words 

Fly like quivers from Eros's crimson and leather bow 

To strike the sacred golden inscribed bell 

Upon high 

From where all inspiration flows 

And let all demons be 

exsolved  

Separated and purged with quiet exhalation 

On a deeper level

For as long as your life still glows 

Like a Christmas Red Rose

And your heart still beats 

Like one of John Bonham 

Beats

Your soul will forever rise 

For such as you 

Were born 

To never know 

Defeat 

So mote it be 

For

Like the old gods 

Sleeping under the sea's

We pray to the skies 

For you 

So it will be

To spirits of our family and friends 

All around us

As we wander unseen

Circling free

We look to the skies

So it will be

To shadows

Hiding your dreams

We beseech the night

To reveal them 

So it will be

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

λογοτεχνία:

Greek for literature.

Phantasia:

A genre of fiction or other artistic work - characterized by fanciful or supernatural elements.

Imagine shared from Pinterest.

 Under fair usage policy.

The Seer Speaks in December, 2022.

    

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Salute.

(A lone voice whispers)

Did you once blindly in the old silence of the mind

Exist within its thoughts of self-doubts 

Filled with anxieties violence

Like a once playful spirit 

Who had been shattered

Into a million tiny pieces 

And left wandering lost 

But just always looking for guidance 

Until you first met poetry 

In books

Or its soul-lifting lyrics 

In music 

In the throes of new beginning 

Did they encourage you to strive 

To come alive and bloom 

To truly resist 

Within each sentence

And try to start winning 

After breathing in

Its hypnotic perfume 

For did someone or something happen so cruel 

That made you suddenly say goodbye 

To all those once-holy days 

When you were possibly in love 

Or untainted by all those sad portraits 

Society 

Loves to see painted 

In so many 

Devious ways

By their Ideals 

Principles and or by people 

you once deliciously 

Cherished or worshipped  

As you wandered 

Throughout that old life 

Sheltered in

Unconditional bliss

But when those spectacular times 

came to an abrupt end 

Within an intense kiss

Did poetry help you eventually 

Find the courage 

To depression 

Resist

When you looked for something 

Truly meaningful 

To infuse your heart 

And soul with 

Like

Saint John the Baptist 

Did you find a serene taste 

Of tranquillity 

In the written 

Spoken or sung word 

That demanded to be heard

To help heal and give back 

Your soul

A sense of being in control 

Did the years of being a disciple 

Help you find the freedom 

that continuously encouraged you 

To read listen or practice 

With a new flow

To discover a deeper understanding 

Of self prosperity 

That for you was invariably 

your implicit goal 

And a means to pay 

Some of your soul's taxes

Or do you now live on a knife-edge 

With the Sword of Damocles 

hanging over you 

Praying it never falls 

As your world 

Collapses

As you relate to new and old tales 

overflowing with happiness

Or pronunciations

Centered and surrounding 

like an invading army 

A lonely word called Sadness

Don't be afraid 

All that madness will soon pass 

And when you look back 

With that crazy gift of hindsight 

One night 

In the near future 

You will see 

And laugh 

In such playful delight 

For such is life 

For we all live under 

Damocles sharp knife 

So mote it be

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy via Pinterest

The Mother of Uranus (The Sky)

She wanders 

Invisible 

To mortal eyes

Lonely as a cloud

In true beauty and in total 

Solitude

Like a messiah 

On yonder night

Watching a thousand stars

Dance 

A flashing Argentina Tango 

Such is her mood

For she carries the weight of her world

In a warm smile

That glows 

For those who care 

Understands and knows

The futility of blood feuds 

One of humanities favorite 

Schools

For she is Mother Nature

The true queen of all clean and pure green 

Neighborhoods

Known as Mother Gaia

Who with the heart of a lion

Always Pauses 

And wonders

Why is mankind not pious

When she can provide 

All he desires

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy from Pinterest. 

The last message sent to Arabella by Jacob

 

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(A lone voice whispers)

Two of the hardest things you'll ever face in your life 

My listeners 

Wherever in the Great Other Side

You may reside

Is to find the courage to say 

"Hello"

To the one you truly love 

And then the profound strength to pay your respects 

To then whisper

And cry

"Goodbye" 

And so it is with me 

After our love died

For whenever I pause 

In these quiet tranquil moments 

Sat in here 

All by myself

By the moving rocks 

And lost in deep thoughts 

In this swirling grey smoke 

That would make any living person choke

Now I'm a citizen of The Great In-Between 

I sometimes still think about all those long hot Summers nights 

So long ago

When we once walked by the Hawaiian blue sea

Hand in hand

And we were totally unafraid to be seen

I still get drenched by the sweetest thoughts of you and me

Memories of a fierce love

Which must have shone like a blazing lighthouse beacon 

For miles around 

Angels flying above 

Watching 

Must have felt it was a love many could only dream of 

For it was so damn gorgeous and profound

That those hot yellow city lights still carry vivid memories 

Of an extraordinary time, where we held each other's soft hands 

And everything seemed to be just alright 

But like a pale white vulnerable feather

Blowing carefree in the four winds in all weathers

I then always remember 

How you foolishly surrendered to the whims 

Of the Dark Gatherer of all Mortal Temptations

And like an act from the Devil's favorite playbook

Our intense love was viciously ripped from our carefully constructed cross of truth 

By slanderous accusations 

Spoken by jealous crooks

To then be slowly and tragically forgotten 

And following in turn 

Depressingly by so many newly enabled others 

Casually dismembered and shook

With their judgemental narratives 

Singing sad songs of

Theres no chance of Redemption

Now I guess when I reflect

We were like two painful characters from a dystopian fantasy called Twelfth Night

A terrible version of a classic Shakespearean Play

No one cares or even wants to remember

But I'll still treasure and carry those beloved beautiful memories everywhere 

Especially now in December

I'm free from the clutches of life and all its complicated and sometimes crazy games

Of four footsteps walking in unison by the Hawaiian blue sea

Where I'll get ultimately drenched and soaking wet by the sweetest thoughts 

Of just you and me

Memories of a fierce wild unrestricted love

Which still shines so bright today like it once originally did

Towering all above the hot yellow city lights

Of a time we once held soft hands 

And the future seemed so full of auspicious things

 

Which resonated with so much bright red light 

Beloved memories of us entwining to make love by candlelight 

To keep warm throughout all those cold but soul-thrilling 

December winters nights 

When the world seemed so still and perfect 

And all the gossip and racketeers were carefully hidden out of sight

I still miss you 

My beloved Arabella

If only to just hear your lovely soothing voice 

In this neverending twilight

I'm sure it would push back this ever-swirling darkness and show me my own 

Yellow Brick Road to Saint Peter and Heavens welcoming bright white lights 

I'm so proud that I once found the courage to say "Hello

And now 

After all these years

I've now finally found the strength to let you go and say "Goodbye 

I'll always remember you as I ascend

Your one true love who stayed loyal until the very end

And one day when you too wake in the Great In-Between

We'll start over and makeup

Yours forever

Your eternal soulmate whose once mortal name was plain old Jacob

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy.

The Pilgrims Poem

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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