The Daltikia

(A lone voice whispers.)

If your hope fades 

And the world seems unrepentant 

Look for me in the stars 

Call to me 

For even though 

Where I am now 

 

Is too far to cross 

Whisper my name in any given mirror 

And I will come 

For my envoys 

The Metikia

Are within the scrying glass

Old ones with broken hearts 

Patroling the Demarcation Zone 

Between your world and mine

Black crows 

Hiding in the dark winds 

Of the 

Great Who Knows 

For in your loneliest moments 

Looking out of your life's window

Whenever you feel left behind by the world

Call  to me through my envoys 

The Metikia 

So I can appear in the shadows 

To hold your soft hand 

And together 

Endure any storm 

As the depressing winds 

Of humanity blow

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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The Babylonian Weeping Willow

 In an emotional transitional state

I danced inside 

Eyes aflame
With my synapses 

Sending electrical soul kisses

Up and down my sinuous spine

Like bites from the Australian Acanthophis 

My own Fleur-De-Lis

Blew
High
In my secret library 

Representing the beauty of life

Purity
And Holy Trinity 

Infused with the light and power of the Virgin Mary 

And like a familiar name
Carried like a secret parcel in the winds 

Of change 

Like a sweet butterfly
Kissing my skin 

Wearing a beautiful coat of stunning Summer colors 

I remembered our time together

Even though it was ephemeral 

Surrendering myself
Like a fallen general 

Thinking 

That's why love can never be cerebral

For intelligence always gives way

To emotions and instinct

Like a white feather 

And it's why I always return 

Surrendering at the ebb and flow

Of Memories rivers 

Until
The Universe closes its huge doors forever 

For true love will never be extinct 

If you're brave enough to see 

Where Memories Rivers
Goes 

To reach the place of rainbows

A truly magical emotional bordello 

In the strange lands 

Of The Babylonian Weeping Willow

(C)
Copyright John Duffy 

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Luna's Last Letter

 A theme centered around wrongful persecution. 

(The Spanish Inquisition.) 

Can you imagine the horror of seeing the baying crowd approaching, ravenous for their version of justice?

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Title:

Luna's Last Letter

(A shaking hand writes)

To anybody

I can hear them coming for me 

With their lit torches and dirty pitchforks

In long queues of smelling degradation 

I 

A poor woman in the dim woods 

It wasn't my gods and goddesses who stopped their rain and ruined their crops 

 

Bringing pain 

Hunger and destruction

I am not ashamed of my faith or my resurrection

I write and leave this note 

Under this floorboard 

So my name saunters on  

Over this crazy threshold

Watched by Achelois 

She who washes away pain

My beloved moon goddess 

Who always hangs on the horizon 

In the cold

But one day 

Under this cavern 

Six feet underneath this world 

Where I'll soon lay 

Today 

When they break-in 

In a place where sun or light 

Doesn't reach or play 

I'll rise up one day

The sun will shine again

My breath will be short and sharp 

On Judgement Day

Especially

When I kiss the dry soulless mouth of Brother Persecution that stole me 

And sent me into the Grey Sea 

I can soon see 

Appearing 

For me to swim in 

Before me

But when I return 

We'll sit together 

Side by side 

As memories of my old world 

Burns 

Like crimson tumble reeds 

Glowing and

Blowing 

As the ashes of more of his newly condemned 

Float by 

While my beloved 

Achelois 

She who washes away pain

Cries

As I once again

Whisper her name

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

The Writers Monologue

Press play before reaching. Salute.

(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 Wise Words of the Eternal Boatman. .

(A lone old voice, whispers.)

At the very end 

When I ferry you over 

To the overrun shores 

Of The Great In-Between

All that can save your soul 

Before you cross the Red Barrier of The Judiciary 

In the middle of the waters 

Of that endless Black Sea

Will be

A once in a lifetime taste 

Of Mother Loves 

Sweet kiss 

And all those 

Intrinsic moments 

Of profound 

Unselfish kindness and bliss 

That even in death 

You will always miss 

Want some advice 

Do more good

Before you enter 

These wet shorelines 

Of

Endless raging dystopia 

While your Life's purple door 

Is still open 

To help circumvent any pain that will appear 

When you stand broken 

Since there are no more chances to let hope in 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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From Gaslighting to Freedom

Press play before reading. Salute.

(A lone voice sings) 

Did you believe 

I was going to 

Leave

Just one of life's  

Many lost souls

Always on patrol 

Full of indecisions and strange decisions

But when constantly pushed

Full of new wisdom and newer transitions 

Oh 

How I bet you wished 

You hadn't pushed all those buttons

Told me strange stories and convincing lies

Said it's your imagination 

You're seeing things that aren't there

To help me make those 

Seemingly conquerable revisions

To finally find the real strength 

To see through the mists

Maybe now 

That I'm free 

I can grow and bloom

For those old chains are now broken 

Lying on the floor 

In our old bedroom

And I'm no longer living 

In your own Medieval Inquisition 

I'm now free from your Gaslighting

No longer unhappy or constantly fighting

No longer delusional

But walking 

With peace and happiness 

Reunited

My future's bright 

For I've seen the light 

You're now never 

Welcome

For with this song

I finally cast you out

Now go 

Walk out of this room 

Take all your suitcases

And gaslighting

And watch this red rose

Bloom

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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Do emotional poems resonate more?

I think so. 

Inspired by Gloria.

The Voicemail left for Monica

(A lone voice whispers)

I know you're listening 

So don't disguise your profound love for me 

With such acts of disdain

But later tonight

When it gets late

Let my mind 

Reach out as I send it

To touch you 

Through my supernatural senses

To soothe any pain

That may still remain

To reach out 

To gently touch 

And caress 

Your inner core and silhouette

To unlock 

That secret lock

To the very doorway 

To your soul

So I can walk past all the strutting catwalks 

Filled with figures

From years and years 

Of so many well-built defenses 

Until I can see the real you

So you can give me

That look 

That feverish look that whispers

In an unspoken language 

Of a sensuous love

That will come

Calling

One that can pull you up 

By your shoelaces and coattails 

If you're falling 

One look that 

Anyone 

Who sees it 

Could ever 

Forget it

One that paints a fascinating tapestry 

Of contrasting images and whispering emotions

Painted with such striking deft brush strokes 

Capturing incredible longing and intensity 

Pierre-Auguste Renoir 

Would surely

Dance in the Country 

A tapestry vibrating with a symphony of well-orchestrated bodies 

Two

In slow motion

In late-night acts of fingertips and devotion

For true love only comes around 

Once in your lifetime

Like when Adam first found Eve

At the Dawn of Time

In The Garden of Eden 

In Zero BC

So Monica

Here's my number

07753210

Call me

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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Saul Speaks

I once knelt at Saint Paul's Cathedral 

And prayed so hard for true love to appear

And  

When the sunshine finally came and lit you up

Like a shimmering lake of bright moonlight

I knew deep down inside

I'd found some real magic

To carry me through 

All my long

Upcoming 

Summer nights 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

 Image shared under fair usage policy via Pinterest.

Samuels Monologue

 

Like a lonely
Helpless castaway 

Walking
Lost 

Amongst inner indistinct stars in my deep sleep 

I opened my green eyes
Yearning 

To gaze upon the blue
Undulating 

Seas of Tranquillity 

Beyond fear
Reason or hope 

Looking for a new freedom

Beyond irreducible traces 

Of all known possibilities 

To try to cope
With this thing broken in two 

But instead

When my emerald eyes opened

I saw I had ventured

To soft sandy shores 

Illuminated by magnificent

Sparkling red candlelights 

A place where lost souls travel to 

In The Off Limits Zones
When feeling lonely 

Or depressed
At midnight 

And
Within this beloved sleeping state 

With a sharp crackle of unearthly thunder and lightning 

You appeared
And I saw you 

The only one
Bequeathed 

Who I had been summoning 

And as we met and embraced

Upon those lucid imagined Shores 

And held on to each other so
Tightly 

I wondered down deep spiritual paths

Mentally 

To the Nexus of all Eternity 

Past the crying Banshee
Queens 

The spellbound soul keepers of all Humanity

The Archons 

Past the forgotten
Pagan Ages of Dark Shadows 

Once so long ago cast by The Wing Makers 

From The Black Holes of Bastos 

And
Thought 

As the world around me spun 

Like a revolving glass kaleidoscope 

Will she still love me tonight

Wherever she is 

This ageless beauty I always

Seem to chase
To run to 

In full flight 

The one I once wished to live with

Until my last night 

Who still leaves me lonely and

Drowning in cold wet tears in 

In the middle of this plight 

Or am I just another nightly
Visitor 

To that magnificent seashore

I visit 

Just past the Merovingian lightning

Solar Storms 

As I dream 

Always appearing to walk

Its twisted dark pathways

Towards 

A dark place filled with self-ruination 

With so many others 

To that dam place
I am cursed
To revisit 

And dream about 

On the stroke of every midnight 

Shamballa

The Wetlands of the Unforgiving 

The Island of the Lost
In the Great In-Between 

Where Ageless Elementals stalk and hunt the living 

As they wander around
In the 5th Mystical Realm 

Of the
Unseen 

Looking for their preordained 

King or Queen

(C)
Copyright John Duffy 

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The Red Rose

(A lone voice whispers)

What in more sensuous exquisite pleasure

Can ever be summoned with such a small act 

An incantation spell

Of only spoken eight letters

Called 

I Love You 

To create such life-changing endeavors

To make you feel better 

What's beyond all earthy countermeasures or oppressors

What stands valiantly 

Perpetually bare and naked

Before all lost souls 

Whose essences pleads and 

Cries for its devotion 

Its

Affection

Appreciation

Fondness

Friendship

Infatuation

Lust

Passion

Respect

Tenderness

And its other pheromone-linked spiritual yearnings

Have you too been before its alabaster ancient altar 

Said all you wanted your version of love to be

When you felt some unfamiliar virginal stirrings

Then prayed to disappear within its congregation's sway

To hold onto its secret handshake

Through its gift of a single free spiritual Red Rose 

That it always gives away

Or did you oppose

And return all its regal advice 

And dismiss all those soul-changing stirrings 

And cut up its freely offered Red Rose 

Its invitation and gateway

Its secret handshake

With your sharp judgemental knife

To put out any fires which may have started burning 

Did new lies or old emotions

Lingering like limpets

From old relationships afar 

Cause you to then

Fall

Like a wounded soldier

In one of the world's many civil wars

Did a new chance at

A Greek Goddess's 

Exotic taste of sweet 

Redemption 

Bring no

Much needed salvation

Did that new prize within reach 

Cause

Old tears of guilt or hidden suppressed pain 

To rise like a typhoon 

Without resistance

And fall like rain 

Or did you embrace that 

Beautiful new gift

That unexpected surprise at sunrise

A priceless Red Rose and caught all those old tears

In motion

And bade them froze

Before they became an ocean

Does the sentence

Love appears when it's most needed

To supersede all emotions

Even if it's once been cheated on

And will try to stay forever

If welcomed and greeted

Create something in you 

A stirring that you will never oppose

As you accept the chance of new love and eventually 

Embrace 

Its secret handshake and free gift 

Of its exquisite Red Rose

(C)

Copyright

John Duffy 

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