. Poetry from The Great In-Between

Sunday, August 18, 2024

The Sunday Voice


Foundation of the piece.

Do the Unrequited still seek love searching through social media for an old love?

Have you looked up old flames in secret?
 

(A lone voice whispers)


In this grey shade of semi-darkness


I've sat down by the IPFT and looked again down through time 


Past all the fast-moving images and those sad heartbreaking ones

Portraying illnesses 


Lit a white Dominion protection magic candle and pondered


Is she with another I just can't see


Someone else's older or younger brother


That soulmate who once professed and confessed 

She was only mine


Would she still love me beyond all she feared

If I could somehow suddenly appear


Would her sweet kisses taste the same as before 


When we first met and I told her my sacred name

As I stood at her front door


But would she forget me this time when she got home


Delete my old number on her phone


I know she's a siren 

Lord


A beautiful beacon


A light in the dark who all fall to their knees

Whenever she calls


Is that why I'm cursed by the green shards of Belazor 


In this grey shade of semi-darkness 


As I embrace my own form of holy crucifixion


Charged to look down through time forever 


And tasked by Malachi


To always light a white Dominion magic protection candle 


From the sacred box of self-introspection


And ponder

Is she with another that has my reflection 

Who looks like me


Someone else's younger or older brother 


Now I've died and can only use the IPFT

To see


Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy.

Thursday, August 15, 2024

Need a prompt?


 Belief in yourself is so important.


If you could write a poem reflecting your reflection in a mirror.


What would you write?


It could be anything. Personality goes way beyond looks. My opinion of course.


Here's my take on a dash of fun for the restless minds, constantly poked by Calliope.



Some call me Ole Smoky 

For I'm 100% all natural


So damn deep 

It's supernatural 


So unique 

I'm unnatural 


For my aura and sense of humor 

Is so inflammable 


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Wednesday, August 14, 2024

Dystopian Dreams


Foundation of the piece.

(Conjured from the Ether, of course)

I was at church recently and the priest said some interesting things, relating to life.

Namely, one of the biggest days of your life, when you're present but not there, is your wake.

What or who would you miss at that moment of self realisation?


(A lone voice whispers)

I still miss you
You know

And all those interesting places you used to take me

Like to Caesars Palace
After our wedding 
To watch boxing 

When the world was covered in snow

Malibu beach
On honeymoon 

Where in that hot shade
Out of sight 

Your soft lips 
Tasted my soul
As it preached

New sermons from your mouth
As your hand travelled south

All those tantalising things 
And so much more

But since I left
When God opened that heavenly door

I die silently inside 
A thousand times a second
As my broken heart roars


Like Shakespeare's Romeo when he too
Crossed over in death

Whenever I look at your beautiful reflection 
In my black scrying mirror 

And think of all those precious things

I can't do together
Anymore 

With my old life's torchbearer


(C)
Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy.


Tuesday, August 13, 2024

Lucy

 Foundation of the piece.


Mother's play such an integral, important part of a child's early life. And expands into everything else.


If you're lucky.


This piece is just a simple representation of that lasting legacy.


Did your mother leave a secret room in your heart, where she still lives?


Title:


Lucy


(A lone voice whispers)


I once held tightly

With small arms

 

A white candle that burnt with the heavenly perfume of total joy


Loved lighting and embracing its light whenever she called around


My mother

Lucy 


To my bedroom to tell me such remarkable childhood stories

Hold my hand


When I was her little boy


When Love burnt so bright

And that flame seemed to last throughout 


Every long scary night


But now that heavenly flame no longer burns


For to Heaven's Great Gates

She has returned


So here I am

In Saint Paul's


Lighting a votive candle

This Sunday


As I enter its four alabaster walls


For even though my white candle has gone out


And the long nights 

Seem so much more darker


Our deep love forever takes a more profound meaning 


Whenever I see her beautiful face 


In our favourite silver Elsa Peretti picture frame


We picked together last May 


On the twenty-first 

At Tiffany & Co


When my wife and I covered her 

In our pink and blue wedding confetti 


The first lady to love me when God sent me

To go 


Face the trials and tribulations 


That comes with living on the earthly plane


And now that deep love resonates and vibrates into oblivion 


For even though she had to depart 


She now lives forever in a secret room


In the centre of our beating hearts

Proudly smiling and watching 


Me and my Kelley


As our 

love for us

And her


Like an eternal white rose

Too Blooms


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


Monday, August 12, 2024

The Call of The Demerge

 


The Msula

 A poetic monologue for the inquisitive.


Title:


The Msula 


(A lone voice whispers)


Have you worn one of those old red coats yet


The one given by one of the invisible Riders in the silent night


The Msula


Who knows when your libido's getting wet

For the first time 


A coat filled with holes and tears


From someone else

Who no longer needs one to wear


A symbol of hopes and dreams


Sometimes in vain

For wearing it spiritually doesn't mean love will remain 


And it may even bring you pain


But have you worn one like I once did 

When I was a kid


When I felt my heartbeats rise like the early morning sunrise 


The weight and happiness tied together within a red ribbon of bliss 


In that first kiss


Then the solitude

Way after


But I still wore it proudly looking for its twin


Another red coat wearer 

With tears and holes


Frayed seams

But still keen


It's how I found my Mary before her coat was taken back 


By one of the Riders in the silent night


The Msula

When she died


To be given to another new land walker


To feel the anxiety, concern, difficulty, duty, hardship, load, onus, responsibility, strain, task, tax, trouble, worry. 


And dissatisfaction that comes from wearing it


But also how all those burdens are extinguished in the bliss of that first kiss


Oh, how I miss her

Now I'm 89


But a Night Rider appeared to me late last night 


Said 

Write your last thoughts down Henry


Your time with the red coat is nearly over


I'll be coming for it tomorrow before you crossover


So tear a hole in the fabric 

And pull at the seams


When you can see it before you go to Mary 


In The Great In-Between 


You see the holes and tears add to the magical essences 


Of wearing one of our holy gifts 


For it helps keep the hope for love present 


When all seems lost 


And helps to find the twin coat of the new wearer


Just like you and how you found your Mary


Guided by one of us

The Old Fairies 


So before I go 

Wear yours proudly


Be kinder and

Vibrate higher 


And if you already haven't found your twin red coat wearer 


Just know 

The Riders in the silent night


The Msula


Will soon find its twin and introduce your heart to heavenly choruses of hallelujah's


In the form of a new love 

 

So good night and good luck

For I can just see my beloved Mary in the distance calling 


Standing beside one of the Night Riders


The forever smiling 

Msula


As the moon and stars above seem to start falling 


(C) Copyright John Duffy 



Image created by Adobe Express.

Sunday, August 11, 2024

Rebirth


The human experience has always intrigued, and formed the foundation stone of these monologues. In poetic form.


I create.


This is but another.

Salute.



Have you walked through hell to find your own piece of heaven?



Title:


Rebirth


(A lone voice whispers)


Consumed by times long reach


My old love now walks on a new beach


No more Greenwich Village walks


Trips downtown to Manhattan


No more listening to Van Morrison on a hot Sunday afternoon 


Drinking cold lemonade 

In the shade 


As passing yellow butterflies played 


Smiling in unison 

Watching the local ice cream van sound its arrival


With that particular catchy tune


Or reading Dostoevsky 

Page by page 

Aloud or creating poetry


Together


I guess 

Looking back with my rose-tinted glasses taken off 


It was like a prophecy in the Book of Revelations


To find heaven,

You must first face hell


Walk through the oncoming Apocalypse


Breathe in the final moments of despair 


See your once bright sunflower wither and float away 

To some sacrificial altar where they all go

Drawn by a dark power


Down some old black as death itself river


For like the Lotus flower 

We sometimes need to grow in the sludge 


To bloom


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 



The Philosopher