The Visitor from Hiranyaloka

 (A lone voice whispers)

Within the Witching Hour 

Of twelve to four am

In the Great In-Between

I've seen

Universes

Parallel worlds

Places

Where no living human beings have never been

Climbed through blue portals

To strange lands where angels and demons 

In choirs 

Sing

Walked lands

Where no water runs in rivers or springs

Walked the badlands of the forsaken 

Climbed the high towers of the iron maiden

Saw tomorrow's prophecies 

Before I awakened

But I was never alone

Faith in the Lord

Kept me safe

In The Badlands 

Beyond the Tomb

From being drawn at dusk

To been released at dawn

To explore

To revel in new sights

Past midnight 

Is a mystery which binds me still

From Arigartha

To Mulvanto

The red cliffs of the Ugato  mountains

From the twin suns of Sirius 

Bathed in autumn gold

Underneath lightning filled skies 

So now

I know an old secret

One for you to read as you pass me by

The dead don't die

They just live

Underneath 

Purple clouds

In another shimmering neverending sky

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Hiranyaloka:

Illumined Astral Planet.

The Island

(A lone voice whispers)

As I lay here

Under my apple tree

With my head on my pillow

Looking at my only treasure

A white feather 

By the sea

I can still remember the first time

The Ebb and Flow came looking for me

And I witnessed all those old things once hidden 

When my eyes couldn't see

When it engulfed me in its fine mists

Of secret memories 

The mysteries 

Insecurities 

Jealousy 

Lies 

And all other forgotten things

That Ebb and Flow from beyond the Great Sea

Brought to me

Forgotten moments

Missed chances

Last dances

And the loneliness of standing in a dark circle of never-ending silence

Gripped knee-deep in the black sludge 

Of the Hylands

Now alone on this island 

In the middle of a black sea

With only a white pillow 

White feather and an apple tree

For company 

I still see her

Skin as soft and white as snow

Dressed in blue Levi jeans

White tee

And black high heels

Blue sharp eyes

Beautiful and blonde like a young smiling Marilyn Monroe

Reminded by the mists of the Ebb and Flow

Which touches all things and binds to the spine

The past

Present and future

For they are the polestar

Of all good and evil

The collector and receiver 

Of all things made of matter on Earth

By seeing missed moments and mistakes

When I let that girl ride on her horse called Wildfire 

Right out of my paddocks gates

When my heart took shell fire from Desires Gatling gun

Is that why I'm stuck on this lonely island in the middle of this Black Sea

Sentenced 

To lay 

Under this apple tree 

Inscribed with the many etched in names 

Of past visitors 

With a white pillow and white feather for company 

Lord

Until I find Repentance

To climb higher

Haunted each night

By the Ebb and Flow 

About the girl with blonde hair who looked like a young smiling Marilyn Monroe 

Wearing Levi and a white tee

On a horse called Wildfire

Who I once let go

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy 

 

Have you been trolled?

Press play.

Is social media the new bridge

For trolls to live under

To act with impropriety

Those who need sessions of much needed psychoanalysis 

As technology grows 

In huge numbers

Each time there is rain or thunder

Sad hunters who stalk society 

Revelling and rejoicing in their spoken or written statements of notoriety

The Omnispective 

Fellows of the Royal Society 

Of Creating Social Anxiety 

A new Divine Comedy

We might all have to walk through 

One day or night 

Like Dante Alighieri

A twenty-first century journey through hell and purgatory to reach or express our own inner paradise

Guided by the Light

To be willing and 

brave enough 

To pay the price

Of self-sacrifice 

Of sharing our perspective 

Regardless who comments

Day or night 

From The Omnispective

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

Psychoanalytic therapy may be used to treat a number of different psychological conditions, including: Anxiety. Depression. Emotion struggles or trauma.

Rêves de Miss Applegate

(And the voices return. I previously said I was going to stop writing poetry but, a big but. 

The whispers continue. Salute)

Press play.

Title:

Rêves de Miss Applegate

(Dreams of Miss Applegate)

(A female voice whispers)

I still see her 

Old

Marie Laveau

I can't pretend

In my scrying mirror

Looking back 

And smiling 

Summoned to haunt me 

From when I visited 

Big Mama Aurelia

Somewhere on the water village of the Grand Bayou

For she announced the end

Of being single

And a time and place

Of happiness 

I still cannot see

Where I'll mingle

When Kamadeva will walk in like a proud Captain Jake

 And will tempt me to sin

In new 

Where's and how's

The what if's and so's

So

Sometimes 

I stand dressed in my Mama's old white wedding dress

Looking in my long black and gold mirror 

Pleading to know my fate

In what year 

Month or day

Will she'll come see me 

Before each winter's year ending snow

And whisper

This year

The waiting ends

 Josefina

So I can celebrate the overthrow

Of another phase of living in Hades

But until then

I'll just go back to masquerading on my life's only mission

On my heart's crusade 

Looking for true love

Before I fade away

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

It's been a ride

Press play.

From Google Plus to here, I've met some wonderful souls.

Thanks for reading.

Salute.

Aria the Druidess

 (A lone voice whispers)

Write your words like mesmerising spells

Like

California yellow bells

To bewitch hungry

Eyes that see

Using your incredible 

Vocabulary 

By all means

And the four types of comprehension

Literal

Interpretive

Critical

And creative

To conjure

Themes

And memes

From the fourth dimension 

To enrich jaded eyes 

To stimulate weary senses

Send forth your unique voice

Via your prose

To grace unconsciously moving wet lips

With a sweet scent

Of your inner

Red rose 

That tempts them

To read on

In their moments of stillness

And you'll realize your love of poetry

May be the missing link 

That completes them

Like the three wise men

Who once saw 

The shining

Star of Bethlehem 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

The Voice of Solomon

 The Voice of Solomon 

(A lone voice whispers)

Did you know

Something's last through all weathers

In a place

Hidden beyond a star-bridge

Crossed only by souls who choose to step into a mythical endless river called 

The Great Confluent

To merge forever

Spinning between worlds

When their Great Wheel

No longer turns 

For all things are formed

Linked by a golden cosmic thread 

Stemming from Annwn 

The First World

To here

Abred 

Your World

Then to Gwynvid 

The Higher World

And then finally swallowed into Ceugant 

The Black Hole 

The Forever Land of Dreams

For Ceugant

The Forever Land of Dreams

Like a black hole

Must absorb the ebb and flow

Of all names

And creatures 

Filled up with hopes and desire

Lit up by millions of flames By midnight or midday lanterns 

As they steer their own wheel

Through the dark blue waters

Of all things that must feel

From Annwn 

The First World

The land of spirits and long night

Where they choose 

Who or what they'll love to be

The journey 

A roadmap of growth

Of darkness and light

Through love 

Pain and with a flame lit up by a fire

Summoned

And sealed by a Hippocratic oath

To here

Abred

Your

Now

Reborn on Earth

To try to find beauty

In all they see

Before they expire

And are freed from all forms of

Semantic Encoding

Pure as snow

They're born

Trying to walk clean through the dirt and hurt 

Of what they asked for in

Annwn 

The First World

Then to Gwynvid 

The Higher World

To be judged 

In Argentum

The Silver Mirror

On how they steered

Their Great Wheel in Abred

Your now

By The Great Mother in Ceugant

The goddess and link 

Of all souls in her primordial sink

The Great In-Between 

Where all life returns

To kneel and be judged 

In Argentum

The Silver Mirror

When their name

Lit up

By a single flame

Summoned and sealed by a whispered 

Hippocratic oath

No longer burns 

And their time steering their Great Wheel 

On Abred

No longer turns

How do you think you'll fare when looking into 

Argentum

The Silver Mirror

Before the Great Mother in Ceugant

Will you pray to return to Annwn

To plan a new roadmap

And be one of Abred's

Many students

Or will you accept your fate and step in the mythical river called 

The Great Confluent

And merge into something

That lasts through all weathers

Spinning forever like a comic weathervane

In a place

Hidden beyond a star-bridge

Where there is no more pain?

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Confluent:

Flowing or coming together.

Have you felt this?

 

Conversations with the Shadow People

 Press Play 

Conception

 Press Play.

Conception

I still dream of the beautiful woman 

Who first introduced me to sin

Still feel her soft red fingernails

On my hard skin

Still taste her red lipstick 

As I became a king

And walked like Adam

Naked

In my own Garden of Eden

As I remember the noises

Of the early morning Blackbirds

Who loved to sing

When I became of age

And walked reborn

Into a man's skin

(C)

Copyright John Duffy