Have you had Cowboy Thoughts yet?

 If you're here, I reckon you have.

Press Play and always remember...you're beautiful.

Salute.

Narrated by the vocally talented Clinton R. Johnson.

Astral Travels

Press play.

The beloved do live in The Great In-Between.

A journey into the Astral Realms, where I met my beloved mother.

Narrated by the talented Clinton R. Johnson.

Visions of The Future

 Press play.

My channeled impressions linked to the pandemic during 2021.

Seems things are going to change. 

The paid-for news channels, not reporting the surging sudden deaths worldwide, will be exposed.

A march was recently reported outside BBC offices. 

Be safe and be well.

Salute.

Narration by the so-talented, Clinton R. Johnson.

Covid Dreams

Press play before reading.

Salute.

(A lone voice whispers and sings)

We're one

Just one

Not sorry

Never sorry 

Never sorry 

They may try to push us away 

In a hurry

In a hurry 

With lies  

 Deceit 

And tall stories 

But don't worry

Don't worry

My love

For

It's too late

To ever going back 

To that old glory 

Old Glory

From here to Missouri 

Missouri 

For even 

Though 

Lost in a new maze

Like a doomed Martian 

Trying to survive 

The Purple Covid Haze

in 2023

With majestic resistance 

To strike against creeping 

Extraterrestrial 

Secret overlords 

And their human-hypnotised 

Political minions 

And paid for influencers

Seeking total dominion 

Like the Bureau of 

Secretum Sigma Four 

And all who answer 

Their cunning knocks

Upon their Astral Doors 

Armed with fistfuls of bribes 

And soft seductive lies

When they suddenly appear

While conscious thought is 

Sleeping

Those Dark Ones

Who exist outside of mankind's Scope of Existence

Only found hidden 

In The Nag Hammadi Library

Defying their Lord Pascal

With a Wild West showdown

My own shootout at 

My spiritual O.K. Corral

With subtle movements learnt 

Reading banned books

Of The Council of Nine

I found you

Like a rare discovery at 

The Gates of The Great Sphinx

My new holy mission 

Into the Danger Zone

Before my lonely ship 

Sinks and I return home

My original 

Electric Schumann Resonance

To remind me

Into strange lands of Zion 

And beyond

We all seek that most fragile of all things 

Called Love

Because we're only human

For when you're

Lost and on a feathers edge

Feeling all alone and hopeless

No solid ground under your feet

As you sleep

Banish those demons in your head 

And think of me

Your soulmate in the dark

The lone Shadow 

Forever waiting  

In your most precious and treasured 

Memory keep

For

We're one

Just one

Not sorry

Never sorry 

Never sorry 

They may try to push us away 

In a hurry

In a hurry 

With lies  

 Deceit 

But don't worry

Don't worry

My love

For

It's too late

To ever go back 

To that old glory 

Old Glory

From here to Missouri 

Missouri 

For I'll always love you

For you're my life's greatest story

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Foundation:

A lost soul mourning his only true love.

Who now lives in The Great In-Between.

The High Priest of Heliopolis, Speaks.

 (A lone voice whispers)

Within divine insight
Within such spectacular magic 

Whatever causes something so tragic 

Within the darkest tributaries of your soul 

That burns
Like a molten volcano 

In every second and minute 

Leaving such painful scars

As you quietly grieve 

In the formulation of an internal fountain 

Of cascading emotional memories

Falling like flashing stars 

Good and bad

Always remember 

That Love can be classed as a potent living curse 

Because it's so insidiously melodramatic 

For it has held
Princes
Princesses 

Kings and Queens 

And all of Life's seal-bearers
In-between 

In total ruthless servitude 

Even me 

And probably you 

So armed with this knowledge

Just know this 

Loves an illusion 

A construct and liar who never tires 

A thief 

Of visceral energies 

Who'll never retire

For lost within that first soft kiss 

Maybe from being a parent's new baby 

Or even from a lover 

Who likes men
Or leading ladies 

You're just one of its many hostages 

Held in tight bondage 

By an invisible exchange of spiritual contracts

To his beloved sister

Called Grief 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image courtesy of Pinterest.

Foundation of the piece:

Everything we love is born to die.

Questions for 2023

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Deep state influencers 

Pushing the narrative 

Condemning so many 

Is sudden death 

The new normal 

And are some of these 

Charlatans and thieves

 

Humanities true 

Enemies?

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

A piece related to the high rise in sudden deaths, worldwide, and the part influencers played in convincing people to receive one.

Did someone convince you?

Resserection. Is reincarnation real?

 

 My early morning post is of course about life, as they all are.   

When sending pieces out into the ether of the Internet, a quiet thought lingers. 

Do people enjoy my thoughts?

I hope so.
Salute.

Resurrection.

Did you know

You are part of a carefully
designed operation of epic
proportions

A subtle design filled and
masquerading

Embedded within
deep spiritual emotions

A mythical vacuum

In the shape of sometimes
inconceivable keys home

A real reason to beseech
kindness and love
 

To atone

Whatever the seasons

We are all sinners
At some level

All said and done

But it's an eternal battle

For we are limitless
And constantly reborn
So it's one

That can be won

We don't have to be saints

Mimic faithfully
Religious figures
Or their sons

We don't have to live life in the shadows
as non-engaging devout monks

Or grace the world's many dance floors

Like quite powerless black-robed nuns

We just have to embrace all things
people or situations

That wilfully comes

Filled
With magnanimity

Sympathy and
Empathy

Beyond ambitious devious trinity's

It's how we'll live forever
In realms of self-imposed liberties

Rising like the Sun
In the perpetual East

Blowing like the early morning breeze
filled within an everlasting ease

Engaging and delectable
like a limitless
conversational piece

We can all sometimes forget this life
Is but one of many

On a short-term lease

We may get caught up in the moment
And forget to look around and reflect

That the Tall Man will eventually arrive in his long black mac

To collect

So it's better to do your best
Then live forever in eternity

Swirling and swimming in silvery pools
Filled and undulating in waves of regrets

Rise in the morning with good thoughts within your heart

It's how you'll escape the pain in
tomorrows unknown futures

Of your soul falling apart

As you awaken behind a newborn
bright blue eyes

Powered by a strange beating new heart

(C)
Copyright John Duffy 

The foundation of this piece is based on this question:

Is reincarnation real?

Salute.

Are you a Meraki?

 

(A lone voice whispers)

As a talented Meraki

Born with an incredible gift

Are you 

But a mysterious seducer

Who tries to lift 

The inquisitive minds of 

Others

As you create emotional 

Teasing bridges or 

Captivating red doors

That need to be crossed

Or opened with your 

Secretive sensitive keys

For the silently hidden 

Readers 

To follow 

Willingly

Into your divine sacred 

Hollow

Guided by your glowing 

Weaving trails 

Of enticing delicious vivid 

Verbs

Into a familiar darkness

They sometimes need to 

Visit

Even if they get lost

Before they lose their

Nerve

Or even swallowed

Whatever the cost

For even though

Some may call you

A charlatan

A new reborn King

Or Queen

Of somewhere 

Totally

Cosmopolitan

A devious seducer of 

Fragile minds

Who hold you upright in 

CSF Fluid

Perhaps as sinners 

Bringers

Even singers

Of so many lucid 

Tragedies

Or sovereignties

That binds them 

Within their

Seams

But are all your great 

Epiphanies or epistles

From The Great In-Between 

If they're translated 

At their irreducible

Core

Can they be 

Simply this

Live for any form of 

Happiness

That you can ever find

And a loving muse

Who brings you such incredible 

Bliss

As you try to guide them to 

Paint touching emotional Pictures 

Through creating

Lasting stories and 

Legacies 

Filled with sweet kisses

Music

Laughter or poetry

As your eternal fountain 

And lyre

And to encourage them

To put them to good use

To never lament old age

As it tries to abuse their 

Eternally youthful 

Spiritual body

Once so beautiful 

But still full of relentless 

Fire

For their hearts may 

Seem so heavy

And tired

In some sad moments 

And they lose 

All sight of the power

Of hope 

To cope

Feeling raw emotions

Linked to grief

Love or serenity 

Which suddenly appears like an Iceberg

Or gentle snowflake 

As their peace burns 

As it goes up 

Each morning

As they wake

In swirling grey smoke 

Like a sorrowful melody 

But look me in these deep

Poetic eyes 

And be lifted up in 

Dawn’s rose-flushed arms

To truly live

To find the courage 

To look into life’s deep ever Changing mirrors

And always remember

You have so much more 

Mysteries

To still give

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Meraki

A Greek word meaning to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself in your work.

Epistle

A poem or other literary work in the form of a letter or series of letters.

The Sailors Monologue

 (A lone voice whispers)

Take this
As a now bearable parting gift 

From someone who will always love you 

The most 

As we bid our last painful goodbyes 

After renouncing
All known ties 

And departing 
Like two lonely unloved ghosts 

Into life's
Slow moving mists 

For
It's been a wonderful dream 

But the dark god
Deimos 

From The Great In-Between
Now let in 

By emerald eyes
Hidden or seen 

To slow shadow walk
Towards us 

As we drift 

Has gloriously
Destroyed us 

Smiling
Wearing 

A white Captain Bligh
shirt and 

Old nineties
Faded
Levi's blue jeans 

Grinning like a mad fool
In our slipstream 

At the joy and wonder

Of all our frail emotional screams 

Which creep in

In extreme
Sinful ways 

As we fall apart
At the seams 

In the fading lights
Each midnight 

Or in so many dark secretive corners 

Everyday 

For our deep love

Like an abandoned
Nightingale 

Has upped suddenly
And flown
Away 

Once
In a vision
Or a divine play 

I saw you 
Lovingly 

Looking my way
On Malibu Street 

But now
Feeling cold and
Numb 

Eating crumbs of
Defeat 

Like an outcast
A leper 

A reborn
Fletcher Christian 

Sailing away
On a new mission 

I beg you

Please look away 

For even though 

I'm broken in two 

Constantly 

Thinking of you 

My sad heart
Will once more soar 

Like Martial Eagle
In full flight 

When true love
Eventually returns 

And she knocks
Hard 

On my tired hearts
Beating
Door 

Pleading to be let in
But until then 

Gossips  
Racketeers
Gaslighters 

And every incarnation of the known Devil 

Hear my rebellious lions roar 

As my soul

Stands so ready and majestically
Tall 

Holding a golden sharp diamond-encrusted sword called Hope 

Clutching a solid silver shield

With 

Veniet Amor Cum Paratus Sum (L)

Inscribed on the front in gold 

Love will come when I'm ready 

To banish despair
Forevermore 

For this pain and old memories are no longer civil 

So here I stand
In pure spirit 

On
Freedoms 
Sandy
Yellow shores 

As my higher self 

Prepares
To go to war 

To earn some more
Golden and red medals 

For my old true love
Has walked right out of my life 

And joy doesn't live here
Anymore 

(C)
Copyright John Duffy 

Image courtesy of Pinterest. 

Deimos /ˈdaɪmɒs is the personal god of dread and terror in Greek mythology

The Voice of Farouk

(A dark voice whispers)

We the dead 

Envy you 

The living

You know 

Crying 

Watching 

Everywhere you go

From our new bedrooms 

In quiet tombs 

Underground 

Worldwide

In this endless winters snow

Saying  

Look at all those crazy fools 

Suddenly dying 

They'll all  

Be coming here 

Soon

To gather in our 

Dark Black Watchers 

Fields 

With us 

The new night breed

Turning slowly to 

Pitiful dust 

Filled with dry tears 

And crying eyes

Endlessly 

Whispering too

Why did we listen to paid-for lies 

For when that bastard Covid Man 

Comes a calling 

With his shiny black medication bag

Filled with backhanded bribes 

All living things 

Filled with rarer than gold 

Pure loosh and fear 

Start 

A falling 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image courtesy of Lightmaster via Pinterest.

Shared under fair usage policy.