. Poetry from The Great In-Between

Monday, August 26, 2024

The Moon Goddess. Dianna.


(A lone voice whispers)


Take this, 

These softly spoken words 


As the sacred keys to my Tower of Regeneration 


And as my high moon sets

Call to me with all your power


From any nation


And I'll help you conquer your abyss 


With a full life and a real love


Guided by my light 

At your side


To open your heart wide 


Replenished by the warmth of my belief, 

One of my greatest of gifts


For if you don't

My energy, and moonlight you will always miss


As you look back at me 

One lonely night


And reminisce 


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 


Image shared under fair usage policy.
 

Sunday, August 25, 2024

Renewal


Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)


Is this the final time for you and me


To part from visiting my white room
In the Great In-Between


For this morning I read
As God once said
In Isaiah 43:18-19


I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland


And I can faintly hear brass bands playing a sad tune in the distance

Via my automatic scrying machine


And a soft voice whispering
It's no use staying

She needs time to heal 

To restart and feel


So maybe
Another time around in this crazy circle

With no rehearsal
It may last


Even though our love is dead and buried


Maybe next time we can just find a way to continue to be true friends

Who makes each other
Gasp

To try to make it better than the last


So tonight I open up my old tired diary

And just write in big letters


Never forget
Your only love
Mary

The kind woman who once carried you
When life once got so heavy


(C) Copyright John Duffy

Saturday, August 24, 2024

Musings


 “Is a just and true life — one stirred by love and escorted by experience?


Neither a love devoid of experience, but a realization of love and experience — can it help to produce a virtuous existence?” 


To know love – do we have to jump all in – swimming valiantly?


Thrashing feverishly around within its deep, mysterious pools of emotions?


To really feel the ecstasy, the highs, and lows?


Do we have to go up above and below?


Does the emotional roller coaster of a sublime bliss—catch you within its first soft, sensuous kiss?


Can the suddenly harsh voice of its sudden disdain, sometimes enduring such immeasurable pain — stop you from ever chasing it again?


What is a life without trying it?


Do you turn into the French Inquisition, and see transgressions everywhere,

So you don't get burnt?


Has love burnt a hole in your side?


A few I have known weep from its soft velvety touch, and only having enduring its rollercoaster once, seek it no more.


Do they not know — climbing back on board with a new passenger: might be the answer?


Love is the most complex enigma we will ever know in life, and as the saying goes, fall down seven times, stand up eight!


The average woman will kiss 15 men, enjoy two long-term relationships, and have her heartbroken twice before she meets, “The One”, a study reveals.  


Researchers found she will also suffer four disaster dates, and be stood up once, before she finally settles down with the man of her dreams.


Men, on the other hand, face being stood up twice, and will have six one-night stands before they meet their ideal partner.  


This figure could be coming down, though, because a separate study suggests that men are becoming less afraid of commitment.


The average young man is ready for a committed relationship from the age of 22, two years younger than ten years ago.


Have you fallen down seven 

But still get up eight?


Copyright John Duffy


Thanks for visiting. Salute.


 

Love Found


Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)


Under her hypnotic spell

Leaving me in new realms of emotions.

Where I now dwell


I walk steep hills

Day and night

Up and down 


In my mind


Walking past fast flowing rivers with carcasses of my previous experiences 


With demons from hell


To reach salvation and its soft green meadows of daffodils and crystal clear waters


Such is the power and magnanimity of being under love's spell and being a lone walker


Exploring and worshipping at a new altar

 

(C) Copyright John Duffy 


Image shared under fair usage policy.

Thursday, August 22, 2024

Therapy



(A lone voice whispers)


Are Goodbyes like lone turtle-doves that fly


Like birds from your clouds of Singularity


Into wild winds


Of one day they're here

And one day they're gone


But you always cry inside

Silently


In somewhere so deep and quiet

Where beloved memories hide


When you remember the sweet moments of tranquility and sincerity 


Before that old love died on a new white cross of behaviour therapy 


(C) Copyright John Duffy 


Foundation of the piece.


Do memories last forever?

Good or bad.


The ending relates to:


Do those experiences change your behaviour patterns by learning from that particular experience?

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Wednesday, August 21, 2024

Is this one of the sins of the twenty-first century?


 Is this one of the sins of the twenty-first century,

increased tenfold by social media affecting relationships?


Have you been uncouth or met one of the uncouth?


(Adjective: lacking in good manners, refinement, or grace.) 


Title:

Infidelity

Well, I guess I'm uncouth
I lied 

And didn't tell them 
The truth 

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

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.

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