The Cemetery Letter Found

The Cemetery Letter Found

Marylou

In a dream, 

I met you in its dark space

Conjured by my prayers.

You wore bright blue

With a red rose in your blonde hair

And a soft smile on your beautiful face

Two souls

In a rare place 

Free from politics

Fear or complaints

I still sometimes dream and think of you

But dreams can be but silent heralds and banner men of a soul's starvation

And can lead to its spiritual destruction 

A slow starvation and spiritual destruction 

That can drive you insane with pain

A thought of which there is no debate

As one loses things to say, and prays to dream again

As it gets late

So today 

I find solace in my old Russian friend Dostoevsky

Melodramatic

Extreme 

Cerebral and drown like a fish in his incredible realism

So I now know

Like all realists do 

Sometimes you just have to let go

No more wandering barefoot in the snow in dreams

But to move on

To wake up even though inside you might hurt and pine

And realise

You just have to keep following life and walking in its straight lines

For sometimes lost and still dreaming of the past 

Can be one of life's secret Rodgers and Hammerstein

Theatrical crimes

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

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Harold's letter found in his briefcase

 

Harold's letter found in his briefcase

You always look like a stunning daydream

A young Katharine Hepburn 

A true African Queen

With crow black hair and dark mesmerizing eyes 

That cry out and scream

I'm unique, 

The strongest independent woman you've ever seen.

So bend thy knee

And I'll show you some wild sights 

I know 

You've prayed every night to see

To make you mine

As I turn your whole world 

Right upside down 

So here's to you

My midnight African Queen who makes me go weak at my knees

Whenever I see your beautiful pictures

Just waiting for you to call me on 

(555) 555-1334 and come around

To knock on my front door so we can go around town and paint it red

When this

My only love letter is finally posted and found

And you hear my familiar voice 

Talking in your head

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

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So you like poetry?

 Pablo's Monologue 

So 

Do you like rhyming 

Like clocks likes chiming

You do know a little known fact

Don't you

Creating whispered poetry right out of the blue is a sign of higher intelligence 

For writing about themes linked to detritus

Can help someone cope through words presented 

To invoke eloquent consequences 

Through circumstantial catharsis 

To help just someone step back and recover from the malevolence precipice

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Detritus

noun: the remains of something that has been destroyed or broken up

Need some inspiration?

 

Fortitude 

Do you sometimes look back through the misty window of yesteryear

And see how far you've come 

As you still run

Seen those old fall me down days as the days that made you rise

With a strength that made many silently step back in surprise

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Demencia (S)

 Demencia (S)

On any given midnight 

Beneath each and every fallen night sky

Living lost 

In this wild city's jungles

Your memories linger

Growing in numbers

Like passing country fairs

Walking in unexpectedly 

Smiling like a reborn JFK

Only to be stolen away 

By Father Time 

Like a new Cunningham

Burke or Hare

Life's true 

Ladrona de tumbas

Of T cells

As he erodes eventually 

Everything he touches

As my synapses crumbles

And I enter a new hell 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Foundation of the piece.

Dementia.

Ladrona de tumbas (S)

Grave robbers

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Need a lift?

 

Here's to you 

All the creatives

The gifted natives 

Who know

How powerful the impact 

Of poetry and its estate is

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Emancipation

 

Press play.

The Voice of Kübler-Ross

 

The Voice of Kübler-Ross

As a lost soul-searching for their loved one,

As I still grieve

After ten years 

Who crossed the Silver Pond 

My question always is

Do people still believe,

there is life beyond

God's 

Great Beyond?

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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The Pied Piper of Agartha

 Foundation of the piece.

Do you sometimes wish to escape the hectic noise and low vibrational energy, in the world, today?

The Pied Piper of Agartha

(A lone voice sings within a whisper)

Would you willingly follow me 

Into the Green Hollow

If I pulled back the veil 

And showed you a way in 

To get swallowed 

To escape 

To a wild world of verbs and contradictions

With love and laughter 

Singing and whispering like loose

Chord progressions

As the old world recedes 

Into the distance 

To escape from your weary grotto of 

Penitentiary existence 

To unite in the Green Hollow

With others

Poets 

Singers

Writers and all good folk

As our last line of resistance 

From a world subjugated by darkness

As kindness

Compassion and Love 

Are no longer viewed 

As a pièce de résistance

So

Would you willingly follow me

Into the Green Hollow

If I pulled back the veil

And showed you a way in 

To get swallowed 

To escape 

To a wild world of verbs 

And contradictions

With love and laughter 

 Singing and whispering 

Like loose

Chord 

Progressions

As your old world 

Recedes 

Into the 

Distance 

To escape 

From your weary grotto 

Of penitentiary existence 

To unite in my Green Hollow

My Green Hollow 

As your life's

As your life's

Pièce de Résistance

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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The Enochian

 The Enochian

(A lone voice whispers)

Some may sometimes wonder if the Shadows are at work

When depravity and desire explode like New Year's Eve fireworks 

While the Blind don't see

But swim in its dark seas

Daily

Saturated by its rain

Then caught and consumed like Atlantic Bluefin Tuna

By the Devil's Networks

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Foundation of the piece.

Has the commercialisation of sex and depravity, saturating nearly all forms of media, happened by insidious design?

To reshape and desensitize humanity?