The Dream Bringer. The Monologue of Morpheus the Greek.

Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)

I watch unseen

From The Great In-Between 

Carrying your heart's dreams

In my brown and blue suitcase 

Filled to the seam

And when the daylight sun lays to rest and the night stars

Look down for souls to mark and Illuminate, ready to confess 

I appear sparkling like rare diamonds through a purple portal in time and space

To open my brown and blue suitcase 

And quietly whisper

Mortal

Take these dreams as yours

As you run your race

Fear not failure 

Or feelings of disgrace

Which might take you 

To a hard place 

But revel in the freedom 

My dreams will bring

Be them good

Or filled with sin

For either way, 

They'll help your soul 

Sing

And with a transmutation spell

I then disappear 

Back to The Great In-Between 

To watch the night stars

Looking down for souls ready to be marked and illuminated

As they plead to confess 

So I can then appear

To help those 

Who might feel low

Or oppressed

Rise up with all they possess 

As my dreams

In their tired minds

Slowly unravel and take off their dress

So they can never be by Darkness 

Tethered and 

Conquered

For I'm just one

Of the universes many good shepherds

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

The Prophet Of Dumaz Speaks

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Hey you

You do realize 

You picked this life 

Before you were born

All the people you've met

Loved 

Hated

Family

Friends

Lovers

Situations

Hardships

Encountered

In whatever nation

When you signed your soul's timeline

Up high

Somewhere

In the Deep Divine

It may be a strange thing 

Knowing this

But consoling

All the same 

In a bizarre way

Souls

Some say

Need to face 

Trials and tribulations 

To soar higher

To be refined

So maybe

What you're presently 

Going through

Is a journey of love or pain

You

Yes

You

Have already planned

To go through 

Again

So view challenges 

In a new way

Don't be daunted 

Scared or swayed 

Face them with courage

And fortitude 

For to not do so

This time around

Would be rude

Or you could just crumble

And turn to dust

Only to ask 

For the same experience 

Again 

With your soul

Entombed in a new husk

So trust your instincts

And I hope and pray

This got you thinking 

That all you're enduring 

You've asked for

Even knowing me 

Via this poetic review

To remind you

Keep going

You still have

So much to do 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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Confessionalism of The Soothsayer

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Am I cursed like poor Orpheus

The son of Apollo

To just wander through life

Wasting my time

Cursed by the Three Crones 

To now write rhymes 

For just you

Who I silently 

Follow

Writing about love and sorrow

Whilst hid in my hollow

 For only

Two invisible pennies

 Or dimes

 Because my Goddess 

 Divine has called

 In all my sins

To be tormented in every way 

Like Orpheus by the Maenads 

To play

With this as punishment 

For all my eternal crimes

 Every night

 Or at the break of morning 

I'm now doomed

To write

Sometimes 

In darkness 

Sometimes in light

Writing for my soul

For my freedom 

To really see

Unlocking old mysteries

Hidden deep within me 

To take back control

Using secretive newly found keys 

To mysterious occult doors

To traverse through 

Strange literature about inner kingdoms 

As I now speak to you

The silent viewers

Hiding cleverly amongst life's many moors

Hidden in the vastness of The Universe or simply forgotten kin

Or quiet fallen watchers 

Parading silently

Through my paradigms of words or simply perusing 

In my inspired biosphere 

Am I but one of the many cursed 

Maybe like you 

Too

 To walk at the front like a brave foot soldier or simply following

Like a loyal Bannerman 

Coerced beyond belief 

To seek continuous relief

Is that why I 

Perhaps like you 

Always now write

For sleep doesn't come easy to us two

Walking these precarious tightropes

At midnight

Filled with such unknown delicious and sometimes devilish mysteries 

 Now cast me

 My two invisible pennies 

 Or dimes

By reading on with those eager eyes 

As I serve my penance 

For all my own earthly crimes 

Urging you to absorb all my otherworldly experiences while you read

With unrestrained greed

For know

 All our mistakes and crimes 

Are to be judged by our own

Head Watchman 

Our own judge and jury

When it's our time

No matter what you've got 

Or where you go 

And it’s why I now saunter through life

Perpetually seeking salvation to be un- dammed

Spreading inspiration through through words

Painting tapestries created within carefully selected adjectives and verbs

Before I meet the primordial and eternal king and prepare to be judged as I pray and hold my nerve 

In the apex of the all the universe 

Where used up stars fall like molten snow as golden bells sing a soft melody 

Who the faint whispers tell me is called the Tall Man 

The ruler of all 

Who are tainted to live within realms of neverending jeopardy

Copyright John Duffy

Confessionalism of The Soothsayer

(A lone voice whispers)

Am I cursed like poor Orpheus

The son of Apollo

To just wander through life

Wasting my time

 

Cursed by the Three Crones 

To now write rhymes 

For just you

Who I silently 

Follow

Writing about love and sorrow

Whilst hid in my hollow

 

 For only

Two invisible pennies

 Or dimes

 Because my Goddess 

 Divine has called

 In all my sins

To be tormented in every way 

Like Orpheus by the Maenads 

To play

 With this as punishment 

 For all my eternal crimes

 Every night

 Or at the break of morning 

I'm now doomed

To write

 

 Sometimes 

 In darkness 

 Sometimes in light

 

 Writing for my soul

 

 For my freedom 

 To really see

 

Unlocking old mysteries

Hidden deep within me 

To take back control

Using secretive newly found keys 

To mysterious occult doors

 

To traverse through 

Strange literature about inner kingdoms 

As I now speak to you

The silent viewers

Hiding cleverly amongst life's many moors

 Hidden in the vastness of 

 The Universe or

 Simply forgotten kin

 Or quiet fallen watchers 

 Parading silently

 Through my paradigms of words or simply perusing 

 In my inspired biosphere 

 Am I but one of the many cursed 

Maybe like you 

Too

 To walk at the front like a brave foot soldier or simply following

Like a loyal Bannerman 

Coerced beyond belief 

To seek continuous relief

 

Is that why I 

Perhaps like you 

Always now write

For sleep doesn't come easy to us two

Walking these precarious tightropes

At midnight

 

Filled with such unknown delicious and sometimes devilish 

Mysteries 

 Now cast me

 My two invisible pennies 

 Or dimes

By reading on with those eager eyes 

 

 As I serve my penance 

For all my own earthly crimes 

Urging you to absorb all my otherworldly experiences while you read

With unrestrained greed

 

For know

 All our mistakes and crimes 

Are to be judged by our own

Head Watchman 

 

Our own judge and jury

When it's our time

No matter what you've got 

Or where you go 

And it’s why I now saunter through life

Perpetually seeking salvation to be un- dammed

Spreading inspiration through through words

Painting tapestries created within carefully selected adjectives and verbs

Before I meet primordial and eternal king

In the apex of the all the universe 

Where used up stars fall like molten snow as his golden bells sing a soft melody 

As it's eyes glows

Who the faint whispers tell me

Is called the Tall Man 

The ruler of all who are tainted to live within realms of jeopardy

Copyright John Duffy 

Memories

Press play.

Memories 

In the silence of it

Does it still make you smile

If so 

Treasure it

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

The Invitation

 

I rather like creating supernatural pieces, littered with light and dark references.

I just have a strange ethereal kaleidoscope, I use to describe emotional driven poetic short stories. 

Are the stories just whispering voices in the darkness from the Great In-Between?

Are they reflective in nature? 

I suppose it's just a reflection of how I see humanity shaped. 

We each have our own individual styles. 

Mine are all poetic monologues in essence.

For to know and treasure the light of happiness when it comes, we need to have drunk a sip from darkness hot liquor.

To then stand tall in front of all. 

Without a flicker and accept Loves Invitation 

Whenever it's presented! 

Salute. 

Title:

The Invitation. 

Let me in

I whisper in the darkness.

Across deep blue oceans and rocky yellow sandy shores

To warm you my new love

For I am so hot

Let my whispered dark spells

Carried by grey smoke in the gushing four winds

Reach those once frozen tears

Falling from those beautiful eyes and reach deep into your lonely heart.

Feel its red flame

Crimson

As it engulfs you with total ease

Hot to the touch like fire

So addictive and seductively consuming

But beware

When it touches humans

Some are forever emotionally 

Ruined

Like a rare expensive bottle of red wine

Bestowed from the dark places unvisited 

Let me melt those cold glaciers that surround you with soul-warming fires

Burning and spinning within my endless dark eyes

Feel the heat from my hands on your chest

The breath of my mouth

Tasting each word as your soul opens up 

Its dark doors and pleads to confess

No more to wait

But to climb my red ladder out of the darkness of Naamah's 

Endless grey void

Before your beautiful soul is tainted and stands inline 

With so many others who make a mockery of emotions

Before they are destroyed 

No more to lie frozen under heartbroken spells

Conjured by dark shadows 

From leather-bound grimoires from the Lesser Key of Solomon

As you bathe in deep silence under a darkened purple-hued sky

Let that flame that once flickered so low but never really died

Those discarded old dreams which once laid forgotten in old days and lonely nights

Come back to life 

As I force back Damballa's darkness with my shining Astral knife

Are you kneeling naked and vulnerable in your red room

Awaiting my soft touch

Can I baptise you like Saint John the Baptist

To walk knee-deep into new seas of Galilee

Is that low spark of Longing

On fire in your centre

Your precious divine spiritual altar

Aflame and burning so bright

Are you ready to get drunk on this lascivious potion 

I always carry

Stolen from the encampments on the perilous mountains of Asmodeus

Called Mother Temptation 

Will you drink and feel the burn

To melt as all those old once hidden feelings 

Slowly return

Will you then sleep unfrozen as they creep in

Is it then you will ask me

In hushed soft whispers to take you under and whisper new red love spells

To listen as you then slowly confess 

As your soul no longer weeps 

Just say yes

And acquiesce

My new muse

I'll be that willing shoulder and ear to listen

As all your previous fears have a means to be expressed

As your eyes shine in a new half-light and begin to glisten

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy.

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.
 

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

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.