Depression is such an unspoken subject; I thought I’d challenge my imagination to create a poetic piece.
Exanimationes Incidamus is simply Latin for Depression.
We’ve all sometimes walked that long winding road.
Particularly now with looming World War III, people suddenly dying, covid actual facts.
Cost of living. And so on.
Things will get better though.
The light will prevail.
Just keep praying and believing.
Salute.
Press Play and always remember...you're beautiful.
Salute.
Narrated by the vocally talented Clinton R. Johnson.
Press play.
The beloved do live in The Great In-Between.
A journey into the Astral Realms, where I met my beloved mother.
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.
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
Copyright John Duffy
Foundation:
A lost soul mourning his only true love.
Who now lives in The Great In-Between.
Press play before reading.
Salute.
Title:
Hakim. The Gatekeeper from Esagila.
(A lone voice whispers)
In ancient Babylon
I once stood alone and mixed fire
Iron and clay
All day
Creating a spell
To entice
My only light
To come my way
Sent merchandise of gold and silver
To her
The Pythoness of Endor
Hidden in dark woods
Over the deepest of rivers
Bundles of finest fresh linens and purple silk
To satisfy her and her ilk
Citron wood and every kind of object
I could ever find
Made of white ivory and black marble
Whenever I could
No matter the expense
Incense sticks
And scented Egyptian
Candlesticks
Made of expensive Frankincense
Delicious crates of red wine
Bamboo baskets filled with white flour and yellow wheat
Fields of fat cattle and herds of baying sheep
Priceless trained horses and golden inlaid chariots
New slaves of broken souls
Lascivious ladies and ravenous men
To do her bidding
Even acts of depravity
Linked to the forbidden
For the fruit of my soul
And to be joined to her again
A bright light
I once saw
On a seemingly endless night
But in the year 323
When my leader
Alexander the Great
At only 32
Died and was eternally set free
In the opulent palace of Nebuchadrezzar
She
The Lady of the Wild Woods
The Pythoness of Endor
Cursed me to chase her
Forever
The Queen
I once conjured by fire
Iron and clay
So today
In the 21st century
Her I still chase
Since eternal life
Is now my only penitentiary
My only great living version
Of Babylon of old
When I desired to sire
A queen I once met
Dancing
The Raqs Sharqi
So fiercely
That her raw beauty
I can never forget
Adorned in soft crimson and glittering purple linen
Clad in silver
Wearing gold and shining diamond stone earrings
Reborn into the likes of
Badiaa Masabni
It's why I still chase her
If I could confess
For underneath
Beneath all things linked
To trying to achieve immortal strength
It's why now
To seek her out
Once more
I always choose to break free
From the external grip
Of The Valley of Death
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image courtesy of Pinterest.
(A lone voice whispers)
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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.
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Foundation of the piece:
Everything we love is born to die.
(A lone voice whispers)
In my dying fire
At any given midnight
Or in their faint amber embers
In any particular silvery
Light of day
Right before the Blackbirds
Or Crows
Come out to play
They
The Night Rulers
Of such lucid empires
So dim but always so well lit
Those who stand patiently waiting
On my many unseen bayways
In strange mystical
Lands of such Contradiction
Dressed
For adventure or
Flight
Always
Smiling with
Shiny eyes
Looking my way
Dressed in black and white
To lure strangers
Like me
To their incredible bright places
To swim
Talk or slow walk
Carefree
Within dreams
Red Rivers
Hidden in the Great Fissure
Out of sight
Where the invited
Can then kneel and pray
When they're summoned
With these softly spoken lines
In Latin
Esto sicut servus
Donum in somniorum
et estote parati ad nos
Maiores et manes
Exspecto et
Stans
Ad flavum & rubeum litora
Magni Inter (L)
Come be like a slave
In our gift of dreams
And be ready for us
Ancestors and ghosts
Waiting and
Standing
On the yellow and red shores
Of The Great In-Between
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image via Pinterest.
Theme:
I have recurring dreams quite often with strangers, I've never met.
And always wonder in quiet moments, when I'm awake ;
Are they standing waiting for me to dream?
(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?
