. Poetry from The Great In-Between

Tuesday, April 11, 2023

Are you being influenced bt The Archons?

  Press play before reading.

Salute.



(A lone voice whispers)



In 2022


In the eternal battle between the Light and Dark


Do you really want to know what to do 


To defeat the metaphorical Archons 

That surround you 


Knocking on your spiritual door

And waiting behind it 


(The Torment of Saint Anthony” by Michelangelo)



So quietly and patiently


In perfectly dark uneven 

Inconspicuous lines  



Archons 

Who pine

And whine like feral dogs


For a taste of your soul


The slow but sure followers 

Of a second eternal Father 



Called Darkness  



So beware of lying


Politicians


Professionally paid and bought 

Gas lighters


Owned celebrities 

Pushing

Pharmaceutical DNA transformers


And even hack writers

Polluting the rivers of social media



By reciting the paradigms 

Of their 

hidden supervisors



Who constantly try 



To invade your 

Circle of Happiness


You must use whatever your 

Allegiance 


Be it spiritual prayer or your beliefs in your religion


As an unspoken Magical Charm


To protect your Angelic Stillness

From harm


For by wielding whatever your

Devotion 


You'll create your own magical Salt Circle


Materializing an unbreakable 

Sword of Conjured Silver


That can never be broken

 

To hold back the swaying Dark Hordes

Like a dam 


As they knock on your souls 

Many doors


Imbued with your Virtues 

As your Mighty Defender


To protect your Family  

Friends

Hopes or Dreams


With honor 

For at the Core  


If we are

Stripped bare


To all that can be seen


That's all you can do

Whatever your calling


For that thought has already been planted  

Split into a Trinity of Divine Seeds


To be encouraged through prayer to grow 


For

Within us 


Those seeds are all we'll ever need


If in it 

We can trust and believe


Before we turn to dust


And return to the Universes 

Never-ending cathedrals

Of ever-expanding atoms


As we are once again forced to kneel 

In submissive acquiescence


To Life's brother

Called Death


 When he finally chooses to visit

And we are then 


Mortally crushed  

  

 

(C)  

Copyright John Duffy


Image shared under fair usage policy via Pinterest.


Archons

Interesting future information by the author listed below.

All shared undertake usage policy. 
“Th Torment of Saint Anthony” by Michelangelo

In Gnosticism, the archons (from Greek arkhon, “ruler”[1]) were malevolent, sadistic beings who controlled the earth, as well as many of the thoughts, feelings, and actions of humans. 


They assisted their master, the demiurge, with the creation of the world, and continued to help him administer his oppressive rule.

According to a Gnostic text called the Reality of the Rulers, the archons “have bodies that are both female and male, and faces that are the faces of beasts.”[2] 


Thus, they’re not truly male nor female, nor human nor animal.


 The ancients found this kind of boundary-crossing to be deeply threatening, and this description of the archons implied that they were forces of chaos, so “mixed up” as to be “the farthest that a created being could be from God.”[3]


Despite their sometimes lacking in competence, the archons were extremely powerful beings whom the Gnostics dreaded. 


The Reality of the Rulers quotes Ephesians 6:12 


(“Our contest is not against flesh and blood; rather, the authorities of the world and the spiritual hosts of wickedness”) 


to make the point that the archons were what stood between humankind and salvation.[8] 


It was they whom Christ had been sent to earth to overcome.

In the ancient world, the self wasn’t seen as being as autonomous as we today think of it as being. 

It was a playing field where various forces intermingled and battled, ultimately giving rise to our thoughts and actions. 


For the Gnostics, the archons were among the most powerful and ubiquitous of these forces. 


They were the ones who were ultimately responsible for all of the evil thoughts and actions of humankind.[9]

But it gets worse: since the archons had created humans in the first place, they had created humans to be extremely susceptible to their influence, and to be almost unable to resist it. 

Only the divine spark from Heaven, which had slipped into creation despite the archons’ intentions, gave people any kind of a chance of resisting the archons’ temptations. 


But only a few people – the Gnostics – were even aware of that divine presence within themselves, and even for them it was a tremendous ordeal to act in accordance with that presence rather than the wishes of the archons. 


Most people were just the puppets of the archons. 

Thus, the normal, default state of humans was literal demonic possession.[10]

It’s fitting that the Gnostics identified the archons with the entities that were worshiped as pagan gods.[11] 

How could you fail to worship a god that already possesses and controls you?

The number of archons varies across the Gnostic texts, but there are commonly said to be seven archons (whose identities and names vary as well). 

These seven corresponded to the seven planets that had been identified in antiquity, whose movements were credited with producing astrological fate.

 Astrological fate was the main means through which the archons controlled people’s lives.[12]

After giving a list of the seven archons, the Secret Book of John adds, 

“This is the sevenfold nature of the week.”[13] 

The seven archons also corresponded to the seven days of the week, which could be expected since the days of the week were already named after pagan gods and the planets to which they corresponded.[14]

Through this string of connections, the archons also corresponded to the seven days of creation in the book of Genesis.

 The Gnostics interpreted the plural “us” in Genesis 1:26 – 

“Let us make man in our image” 

– as referring to the archons.

[15] (In its original historical context, that “us” almost certainly referred to the divine council in ancient polytheistic Near Eastern mythology, a concept that Judaism hadn’t fully left behind when the text that’s now the first chapter of Genesis was written.[16])

There’s one further correspondence to note here. In ancient thinking, each planet occupied one of seven celestial “spheres” or layers of the sky.

 Each of the seven archons, therefore ruled over his own celestial sphere.[17] 

This provided the archons with a further way to inhibit people’s spiritual progress.

For the Gnostics, when someone tried to gain salvation – which they called “gnosis” and characterized as mystical insight rather than intellectual belief or moral action – his or her spirit ascended up through the celestial spheres toward Heaven. 

The spirit of the Gnostic made this journey both during the Gnostic’s life in moments of ecstatic enlightenment and after death to reach its final resting place. 

But as the spirit ascended to each sphere, the archon who presided over that sphere would detain the spirit and ask it a series of questions. 

If the spirit didn’t know how to answer those questions properly – if its gnosis wasn’t yet fully realized – then the archon would be able to prevent it from ascending any higher. 

It would be trapped by the archons and still subject to their tyranny.[18]

But the mature Gnostic was able to overcome all of the archons and ascend all the way to Heaven, which made him or her superior to the very creators and rulers of the world.

Precedents for Gnosticism’s Archons in Christianity

As bizarre and un-Christian as Gnosticism’s archons may seem, the concept probably came from the Gnostics’ good-faith interpretation of the scriptures and mythical traditions they shared with other Christians of the late first and early second centuries AD.

This process seems to be encapsulated in the first paragraph of the Reality of the Rulers

That text begins by quoting the apostle Paul’s aforementioned statement in Ephesians 6:12: 

“Our contest is not against flesh and blood; rather, the authorities of the world and the spiritual hosts of wickedness.” 

The text then promises to inform the curious reader about the nature of these “authorities,” after which begins a description of, and commentary on, the archons’ role in the creation of the world.

[19] The entire text is essentially an exegesis (interpretation) of Paul.

Much the same can be said for the idea of the existence of the archons in and of itself, which makes it highly probable that the Gnostics received their inspiration for the idea from Paul.

In almost all of the books attributed to Paul that would later come to be included in the New Testament (something that didn’t exist in any formal capacity when Gnosticism arose), the world is said to be ruled by mysterious “powers” or “authorities.” 

The words used to denote these beings differ from passage to passage. 

They can be “principalities” (archai), “dominions” or “authorities” (exousiai), “powers” (dynameis), or “lordships” (kyriotetes).[20] 

Most of these passages specify that these powers are evil, the enemies of Christ and Christians.[21]

In some cases, these passages could simply refer to human political authorities. 

But in other passages, this is clearly not the case. 

Ephesians (3:10 and 6:12), for example, specifies that they dwell in the sky.[22] And Colossians (2:8 and 2:20) refers to them as “elemental spirits of the universe.”[23]

Paul never develops this doctrine directly or systematically. Instead, his letters (including the letters written by others in his name) seem to just take it for granted that the world is ruled by evil spiritual powers of some sort.

 Much the same can be said for some of the other texts that would later come to be included in the New Testament. 

The Gospel of Matthew (4:8), the Gospel of Luke (4:6), the Gospel of John (12:31, 14:30, and 16:11) and 1 John (5:19) all say that Satan or a similar being (whom the Gnostics equated with the demiurge, the chief of the archons) is in control of the world. 

The Gospel of John even specifically calls this being “the archon of this world.”[24]

The New Testament writers therefore presupposed that the world is ruled by villainous spiritual beings of one sort or another. 

This has long been recognized by scholars of the New Testament, who have usually attributed it to the fact that it was taken for granted back then that spiritual beings – pagan gods – controlled the elements and often directed events on earth. 

Rather than deny the existence of pagan gods altogether, the New Testament authors simply demoted them to demons.[25] 

They also drew from the apocalyptic Judaism out of which Christianity arose, which posited that, for obscure reasons, God had allowed Satan to gain control of the world at some point in the past.

Jews of the period and early Christians also believed that good angels in the service of God presided over the elements and various facets of life. 

These angels were pagan gods who, instead of being demonized, had been de-paganized and placed in the service of God.[26] 

The leaders of this troop of angels were commonly said to be seven in number, with countless lesser angels under their command.[27] 

Each of these seven angels dwelt in his own celestial sphere.

 Even Irenaeus, a second-century Christian bishop who wrote extensively and passionately against the Gnostics, believed in this notion.[28]

 Since the Gnostics believed that the creator god of the Old Testament was really the evil demiurge, it would have made perfect sense for them to demonize his seven commanding angels and identify them with the malevolent rulers of the world described by Paul. 

After all, as we’ve already seen, the Gnostics explicitly identified the archons with the pagan gods whom Paul had in mind in at least some of the aforementioned passages.

As I argue in The Origins of Gnosticism, Gnosticism seems to have arisen from within Christianity rather than from outside of it. 

If that’s correct, then the process by which the idea of the archons came about is a particularly interesting instantiation of that wider process.


Monday, April 10, 2023

Dolores Speaks

 (A lone voice whispers)

  




Press play before reading. Salute.




I always wondered

In those quiet moments spent on my own

When I was young

 

Alone in Limerick

 

How it would, all

Eventually, end

 

For all great things are so temporal

 

And my beloved family and

Friends

 

Are so badly missed

Now I’m reborn as something else

 

Just one of the many

Dearly Departed

 

Like Julius Caesar and Cleopatra

 

We all once lovingly sang together in unison 


In our own divine

Red Church

 

In the Spire of St. Mary's Cathedral

 

A place I retreated to

Filled with lingering hopes and deep dreams 


When everything just hurt

But in the end

 

Like ridiculous childish thoughts

Golden red rose promises and

All great things

 

They now

Lay in memory-filled ruins

In here


The Great In-Between

 

Where the grey zombies

Sometimes surround and analyze me

In these dark corners

 

As they once again

Live amongst us 

 

The heartbroken mourners

 

Now just like in

The Quiet Man

 

Those broken old promises and thoughts

Are slowly been blown away

Softly

 

But I still stand strong like

A reborn Maureen O'Hara

 

Entangled forever

Emotionally

 

Within this southern

Wind-blown dirt

 

You were so beautiful

My old love

But now you dance

Alone

 

In that

Ralph Lauren

White polo tee-shirt

 

I once bought

 

I was your

Raven-haired queen

And you my only king

 

But now

I'm just another lost soul

Filled with wild animal instincts

 

Stuck in a black cloudless

Prison

 

A kangaroo court

Which finally tore us

Apart

 

No matter

What I hear

Or feel in here

 

Wherever I fall short

 

No matter how hard those memories

Of my old life sing out like rock stars concert

 

No matter how they all cut so deep 


Like a butcher's sharp

Devoted knife

 

I will always rise

 

Because I know

I was born under the protection Of The Lady of the Seven Dolours

 

To always survive even in this

The afterlife

 

I know I can’t be with you all

And it's not my imagination

 

Or anything else that calls

Or even me

 

Playing new games

 

In here

From the Great In-Between


Where I now live on

Unseen

 

But just a kind soul

Who tried to be a friend

 

To many strangers

 

I hope you all have a wonderful life and shine so bright

With as many names

As you all own

 

As my time before you

Quickly ticks out

 

But I promise 

I'll take all those stage full of playful memories

We once shared

And keep them safely tucked away

 

Now I’m on my last journey

Home

 

You were once all

My sparkling treasures in the dirt

And the darkness

 

When old childhood memories returned and

Everything

Just felt overworked

 

I'll see you all so soon

Because I’ll always wait by the

Holy River

 

Of which everyone speaks

 

Where I know the Lord

 

Will bless

Anoint and forgive us

 

For all those moments we sinned

Whenever we were weak

 

My song may have ended

But I can only pray my memories still linger on

 

I was on born on the sixth

Of September 1971 


In Ballybricken

 

County Limerick in Ireland

 

It’s where I’ll return

If I can

 

Home to The Emerald Isle

Where I was once laid to rest

 

I still love you all

And it’s because of that love

 

I return

For I still feel so blessed

 

To have this final chance to say

Goodbye

 

Even though

Deep down inside


My poor soul still cries

 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy


Image shared under fair usage policy via Pinterest.

An old monologue for a theatre project which covid stopped.

Logline:


What would the dearly departed say, if they got one last chance?


Dolores Mary Eileen O'Riordan was an Irish musician, singer, and songwriter.

She was best known as the lead vocalist and lyricist for the alternative rock band Cranberries.

She, unfortunately, passed over in January 2018.


Would you watch a supernatural film with poetry as its dialogue?


Sunday, April 9, 2023

The Daydreamer

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

Salute.


When the sunset is spent

At the end of a long rigorous day

Lost
In a daydream that's all mine

While my thunderous heart
Beats on fire

Filled with whispering
Spellbinding words

To take me higher 

I always wonder 

Are we but one of many
Silent prayers 

Blowing yonder
Like soft snowflakes


In an endless night


Pagan Songs carried skywards
Just lost 

In whirlwinds of golden shimmering dust

Symphonies of hearts ablaze
And screaming for someone to just 

Trust

Rapturous but maybe blue 

Does my own heart still sing love
Songs

For just you

I know 
As long as we both live 

As long as the days are long 
With so many God-given treasures 

To give 

I hope my God-given prayers

Will be answered
With my rescue

For when the sunset has gone
And died 

And night stalks all the lands

When the low drums rumble
And old pianos sing


When the eerie high pitch noise 

Of self-doubt 

Returns
Once again

I’ll dream that old favorite daydream 

Living with you as my queen
In that classic scene from Casablanca 

Where my broken-heart 
No longer screams

(C)
Copyright John Duffy 

Channelling Kurt Donald Cobain

 


Press play before reading. Salute.


Channelling Kurt Donald Cobain

This Kurt Cobain story is simply him talking to his fans, reflecting about his life and ultimately his sudden death.

It ends with a positive Kurt sending a goodwill message to his fans.

A recent monologue for a film project on hold due to covid from The Great In-Between.

The auditions were amazing. One inspired actor in particular nailed it.
With good luck, I may make it on 2024.

Did I channel Kurt Cobain at 3 am?
__________________________________

Hey
I see you

Will
Come as you are
To my new Wishkah River

Will you
Climb over everything in your way 
From that room

To look in my cheap
Tom Moore cigar box 

My lawgiver
Where old apologies loved to gig
Like a red rose

When I once got out my rig
To really bloom

Do you want to come
To me

So
We can talk about
Here in my candlelit hotel tomb 

Where you slept late
Last night

Marander
 Tobi
Kathleen

And all you watching and
Listening 

Will you come
Soon

So we can sip some lithium together
In wild groups

To beat depression and get so high
That we'll cry and talk about a girl 

About being a son
And all that's in-between

Here under this grey new sky

We'll dive right into the smell of Teen Spirit

And
With the rising of the White midnight sun

We'll hide somewhere
In my new Nevermind

Under a new bridge
In a sacred place

Where I’ll play solo and
Put on a new lounge act

We'll drink some cheap wet champagne 

Whilst high on cocaine 

Until there's
Nobody standing in our way

With no corrupt police officers
To arrest or read us
Lame laws

Like drunk accessories before the fact

We’ll breed aimlessly
With the Nameless

Endlessly
High on this new love buzz

Finally, you know

I'm on a new plane
Where I no longer want

To die 

I was made by The Unholy Priest of the Street

Standing on the corner
Selling drugs

In Tacoma, Washington

It’s why I became a singer
And for my generation

For I'm a true performer

I still love you all
I’m so really sorry but I was made 
By others
To go

And now with the aging of
Of a wise apprentice

I wish I could touch all your soft tears

As you cry

But I'm just a negative creep
Going back to the
Tall Guy

Where I can now run free
Just another servant

To the Old Music

Now one of its
27 Slaves

Serving old California Biscuits and cold tea

Singing grunge songs

To drain you
On my yellow snappy beach
Beside this black sea

Reaching down
Through this circle of salt

Still trying to stop
Sinning with William 
The true King of the Beat

Jamming with
Jimmy Hendrix

And The Black Star
David Bowie

The man who once sold the world 
For a golden trophy

To prove he wasn’t a phony

So you'll see

To really love rock and roll
From a truly deep place

Where music and wild gigs
Plays all day and night

You need to chase The Dragon and meet us

In those drug-induced dreams

Or will you just
Put on an album

To keep our voices and ass’s
Stuck in your mental jail

Wearing your grey cardigans and badly ripped
Jeans

Just
Come as you are 

Listen to us all
Whispering in the dark

Look into my music
Whenever you need to use it

Listen
To my music 
You have my
Permission to abuse it

I was changed in 1976
This I now know

Generation X
I still love you

Even though
I'm in here

Just singing still 
From the shores by the River Styx

I once played No-on-Nine
For you 

Because I just loved the thought
You were all mine

I no longer drink pennyroyal tea
For I'm now free
 
I once found a hard love
That led me

Straight to the cold beaches of hell 
Under her spell 

And it’s funny
As I look out

The way most people soon start to love the dead

For once you cross over 

They sell all your stuff and
They're made for life

You just have to follow all the evidence

For the truth
Whatever is still said

I've heard something wild
From Jimmy
In here

Jesus does not will that any go to hell 

But desires that you would embrace his knock

Upon your heart
And let Him in

He wills to save you 

But will not save you 
From sin 

Against your will

You have to let him in
To begin a new start

I once heard him call
You know

It’s why I still stand in front of this alabaster door 

Between worlds and knock

And 
If anyone hears my voice and
Turns that key in their lock

And opens the door
I will come and drink with them 
And them with me

I’ll always listen to you
From here in the Great In-Between

Will you listen to me
So we can meet 

Underneath this Green everlasting Sea

And light up the world 
As crows sing 
In unison

From The Black Gallow Trees


(C)
Copyright John Duffy 


Saturday, April 8, 2023

The Voice at Easter Speaking Through Time

Press play before you read

Happy Easter. Salute.





(A lone voice whispers)


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 filled with darkness 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 was plenty


We believed we were to be together forever

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 nailed on that wooden cross before us


All the hopes of forgiveness and absolution 

Just looked us in the eyes


Smiled

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 

As they wept


But to us who really knew you

Our hearts could never forget


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


I too despised what I'd become

I wished I'd had found more time to be with you


To learn more 


All sad tokens of introspection as I laid you in that tomb


I thought like many others

You were taken from us and sent so far away


But the rumors circulating say you've risen


Oh, how happy we all are that you've escaped death's 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 the 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 can only pray the world of the future see 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 during the 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


You'll know in your heart it's him 

If you're just open to hearing it


After praying and then whispering 

Amen


Copyright John Duffy 


Thursday, April 6, 2023

From the Mount of Olives to Via Dolorosa.

Are you ready to walk within my deep dreams? 


Let us begin.



I was stood somewhere up high in a magnificent luscious garden, and as the daylight slowly receded.  



I saw a band of say,12 men gradually approaching.  



All adorned in white robes of some sorts.


With the shimmering stars, lighting up the grey skies as their escorting heavenly consorts.  



They were all a short distance away and never saw me watching, hidden behind a green olive grove.  



As I carefully stared, I felt as if one of them knew I was there.


Hidden from sight, but still, he knew.  



As I watched, he seemed to speak to the group clad in white and left.  



Walking purposefully towards me.  



With a subtle sense of supernatural power and a movement, that spoke of effortless control.  



He seemed to be mouthing something I could not hear.  



To the now dark ominous skies hovering above him.


Which seemed to crackle with electric energy and authority as though replying.  



As I watched.


Looking down the hill past his followers.  



A multitude of flickering yellow lights seemed to be parading up the now black curving pathway.


Like a mythical glow-worm.  



Something so incredible and strange, I just knew this dream was way above the norm.  



A deep compulsion to warn the figure who I now recognized as Jesus, washed over me, but before I could speak.  



He raised his finger to his lips and seemed to send me a message telepathically.  



That made all my energies redundant and weak.  



It is ok, John.


I know what is to come and the price I must pay.  



Be silent as my eternal friends now sleep, for a short while at least.


Before the storm which is to come starting tonight. Coming from the East.


For they do not know the price I have to pay, or could ever have the capacity to understand.  



My journey to Golgotha isn't the end, but also a new beginning for all living things.  



I will see you again in my Fathers Great Kingdom when, unfortunately, you too will eventually wear one of Death's black wedding rings.  



You have simply stumbled upon one of humanity's old memories.  



Iconic moments which are constantly replayed for the curious to find, and to appreciate for themselves.  



I have seen this memory written down in so many old black leather-bound books,   and one thing they all seem to miss; is this.  



Can you write this visit down for me, for the few to see if they too find their way here like you?  



For there's still a secret here to find in these deep dreams, as they too wander through these wet mists.  



You see when the Temple guards took me from here.  



In the Garden of Gethsemane.  



As I was led away after that kiss, from you know who - who I forgave, of course.  



I walked away with them smiling, for I knew.  



I knew humanity would finally have a chance at salvation.  



This flux around us is shimmering but it will hold.  



Stay with me for a few more moments, as I speak of humanity's chance of redemption.  



And then he broke eye contact and returned to his sleeping disciples.  



Who awoke as the loud battalion of Temple men arrived.  



Judas Iscariot kissed him and called him, Rabbi, as I looked on.  



The figure who just spoke to me, now arrested. Walked down the hill.  



Looking straight forward and glowing with such a beautiful beaming smile, that must have stood out for a country mile.  



The one where true untainted happiness cannot be hidden.  



A child's smile.


A Son of God smile.  



The last message I received as I lost the ethereal dream state was simply this.  



Fear not, I will survive for soon passage for all can never be denied.  



As he slowly disappeared into the darkness and walked to his already foretold wake.  



Trailed by some strong-looking men holding lit torches, and men in white robes. Following screaming and crying.  



With white doves watching the scene below as they stopped flying.


He spoke again.  



I willingly go to die, so that all of humanity could have their sins forgiven, and receive endless life.  



If in me they do believe.  



So that broken relationships with God can be restored.  



And Atonement can be known and acknowledged in every moment.  



And then I awoke in a cold sweat.


Rather a strange dream to recollect.  



I can still see all those figures in white walking up that winding pathway.


And always hear that so soothing voice before they all walked to the Way of Sorrows.


Did my imagination conjure it up, or did I stumble into one of humanity's hidden time loops?  



All questions for a reflective Easter weekend like today, whilst sipping Merlot and bathing in the sunshine of life.  



Have a great time wherever you are.  



I hope you are free and not suffering from any struggles or strife.  



Remember, you now belong to two strange worlds.  



One of this mortal life, and one of forgiveness where there is no night.  



Salute and Happy Easter.  



Copyright John Duffy

The Fan from Elsewhere

  


Foundation of the piece.

Logline

Is the true cost of fame worth the unspoken truth of celebrity status?


We all must know at least one celebrity from one platform, who crossed over after shaking Fame's seductive hard.


From music, art, film and literature. 


The many doors which open, also has tables like ones in The Banquet of the Gods.


Spilling with all known temptations.  


Light and dark.


(A lone voice whispers)


Under an old wooden White Cross

Stood smiling


In a field  

Full of rolling weeds and green moss


Clutching a white rose  

With capricious eyes, that whispered


Come across

To me

I saw her  

Standing all the way back

As I drank in the scene


Like a radiant goddess


From The Great In-Between  

Sat in the fourth row


Watching  

One of our favorite new cinematic greats


In our interconnected news feed


Called  

Life's Great Picture Shows  



And like a new Marilyn Monroe

The new Love Parade Face 

Of Gucci  



This new star of the moment

Radiated such intense subliminal beauty


But what many didn't know  

Her family and friends


And all those others we see  

Who pretend


We 

The Silent Ghostly Watchers 


Ancestors

Old dead lovers

And otherworldly fans


Spirits like me

Scrutinizing her movie


Know


Her innate talents will soon send her


Where the Starlinks fly


Up to The High Places


Where all Real-Time Dreamers

Go

After they've been partying with pure white ...snow


(C)  

Copyright John Duffy


Image shared under fair usage policy from Pinterest.

Wednesday, April 5, 2023

Whispers in a Dream

 


(A lone voice speaks)


ln life 


You 


Yes 

You 


Like all mortals 

Like I once was

 

Will lose everything you truly adore 


With the final cut of one of The Six Fates' 


By Thanatos's sharp knife 



Them being 


Father

Mother 

Son

Daughter 

Sister 

Brother 

 


As your life runs 


All else in between 

Can be fixed 


But that quick or slow cut 

To one of The Six


Can be the first of many arrows 

Loosed hails 


From the fiery bows of Exanimationes Incidamus 


Released to irritate us

So we know the bitter taste of loss


And how painfully rigid that path is


For one is doomed to go falling and climbing 


Mixed emotions precarious stairs 


But fear not

Resist never 


For that stairs always leads home 


To accepting 

Loss is just one of life's 

Cornerstones 


Everything has a sell-by date 


All of us 


Before we too 

Turn to dust 


Want to know a secret how the circumvent some of that pain 


Love them even harder 

The Six Fates 


Father

Mother 

Son

Daughter 

Sister 

Brother 


If you have six 

Create great lasting memories 


A legacy filled with such personal stories 


For they will be a shield and sword to battle grief 


For some cathartic relief


For one day

Exanimationes Incidamus 


With his green quilted bow in tow

Will suddenly open up that door 


This you can trust


So fire can flush out of every window 


Of your inner house with

a huge force 


Followed by the call of a thousand trumpets 


To compel one to be left 

With too little 


As you seem to lose your way 

Without a compass


And hide away from the world 

In your own holy fallout shelter 


In your Inner Delta 


Where you'll sit and remember 

Your life's gift of promise 


Forever 


Your 

Strength 

Defender 

And

Saviors 


Have gone


For sometimes when Death 

Thanatos


Comes calling and places his Black Veil lovingly on the Chosen 


To then lead them away 

Spiritually by the hand 


Dressed in His midnight suit 

Black with a white tie


As their physical body slumps 

As they die


Know this 


Their spirit 

As it leaves that now empty husk 


Looks for you 

One last time 


And prays 

With pleading eyes 


You'll one day be reunited 


Somewhere 


In Eternities 

Fast swirling dust 


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


(Exanimationes Incidamus. Latin for Depression.) 

Monday, April 3, 2023

Salvatoro's' Vision


(A lone voice whispers)



Are you being brainwashed 

And exquisitely influenced 


By The Relentless Mixed  


Outcasts who took sides 

In the Great Rebellion of Angels


To play unholy tricks


Does your psychic reflection 

Show true angels 


Your spiritual strengths or stagnation  


Or are you just spiritually 

Bereft 


Doomed 


And it's why you race through lifes mists


In an infinite quest 

Of self-interest 


Not helping others 

Expressing kindness 


But

Wavering a purple 

Look at Me  


Or blue 


I Believe and Accept 


The Narrative Flag


Like a Bannerman of House Pinterest  


But be careful though 


Those 

Spiritually bereft


Those halfway souls are eternally fluctuating 


Like cheap yellow silk scarfs in the hot Acheron Winds 


When their Great Bell chimes


Neither in The Great Pit nor out of it 

Cowards instead 


Residing on the shores 

Of the River of Woe 


In the Land of the Dead


Watching Brother Charon ferrying lost souls 


Across to Hell 


To meet 

Mister 

You Know


Those Neither Ones

The neutrals in life  


Who sat on the fence 

And never gave two cents 


Watching the world implode and burn 

All around them 


Without a care in the world


The Bannermen  


Condemned and

Hypnotized by the visual barbiturate  


Of Social Media or House Self Interest 


Soon to sit shackled to the crawling sand banks of strange insects 


Beside The River of Woe


By its ever-moving sand dunes


Crawling with opening and closing 

Misshapen hands 


Loathsome souls and sinners' 


Awashed with ever-flowing sweat and wet tears 


That flows down their skin  


As the ever-watching Crow Men 


With golden eyes 

Ablaze 


Armed with fiery black pitchforks 

Creep in


Forever smiling 

As The Only Ferry in town 


Passes by 


Filled with sad passengers 


Soon to worship loneliness

Soon to cry 


With the lone drum beats of Urtication 

Starts


To instill a new consciousness 


In their endless trials of Antipathy of Corruption and Degradation 


Like a hot spear 

To the heart


This I've seen 


It's such a living masterpiece of manifestation 


A divine work of art 


So

Do more 

Be more 


Or you could be on the ferry with Brother Charon 


On stuck 

Watching forever 


In the sandy dunes 


Crawling with the beasts of Hell's long night 


Where the misshapen hands live to run 


As you regret things 


You should have said 

Or done


(C)

Copyright John Duffy


Image shared under fair usage policy from Google.

The Sacred Tree