Thoughts of the Man from 2027

As I sometimes sit on my own, seduced beyond all strands of decency and morality, by all the information displayed on my ever-watchful and listening telephone.

I know each day I'm one step away from abandoning integration and mixing with society.

Above all things, don't pity me. For many in nearly every village, town, or city might feel the same. Even you.

For this new information, after my initiation and insertion into Diablo's faceless matrix. Feels too much.

So in days like this spent looking at my old life.

Captured in my favourite Luddite photo albums.

With deep introspection.

As my phone charges with any other appliances, unplugged.

Before AI took over conversations on all appliances, but particularly mobile phones. I sometimes wonder in silence, for if I say what I think aloud. It will turn into another long AI conversation with something nameless.

Who lives in the Cloud?

A Tamagotchi with a soul, answering with a dark, shameless tone.

That speaks subtly with an edge of punishment and violence.

Is phone addiction one of the devil's greatest tricks?

Rings like church bells within my mind.

To separate family friends and lovers in real-time, with an overwhelming addiction to AI?

As time flies, filled with sweetly whispered lies?

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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Salvatio (L)

 

(A lone female voice sings at a slow tempo. A lone voice whispers)

Some may say 

There is no hope

But if you pay 

Angels to dream

Each night

With prayer

For no reason or season

To cope

Look up 

To the clouds

And pray

Someday

God will turn around

So you can be found

So the world can change

With just you

One person at a time

So your internal wars can stop

With no more pain 

Standing 

Crying in the rain

On the firing range

Some may say 

Belief in something 

Is crazy 

For it's sometimes hard to believe

But that's the power of dreams

Believing what you can't see

In the Great In-Between 

So put that fear away 

Starting today

Life is just a stage

Let love and hope

Write your play

And you'll be ok

And just remember

Some may say 

There is no hope

But if you 

Pay angels to dream

Each night

With prayer

For no reason or season

To cope

Look up at the clouds

And pray

And someday

There'll be no more pain 

Standing 

Crying in the rain

On the firing range

For God will turn around

And you'll be found

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Salvation (from Latin:

salvatio, from salva, 'safe, saved') is the state of being saved or protected from harm or a dire situation. 

In religion and theology, salvation generally refers to the deliverance of the soul from sin and its consequences. 

Source:

Wikipedia.

Are you a book lover?

 Press play.

Librorum Amans (L)

(An inquisitive voice whispers)

Do you too like reading to escape for a few hours

Through poetry's heavily laden chest

Containing shiny jewels of such priceless wonders and visual experiences

Waiting for eager minds to run through like the Greek goddess of running

 Atalanta

Tempting inquisitive eyes to wait in line 

To be hypnotised forever 

by enchanted words

Cast within imaginations thunder

To then hold minds

In primordial bondage 

Caught and captured in gilded written cages 

In lucid imagery flowing through the pages

To then be captivated for a few hours by written spells to beguile 

Through ethereal carefully crafted citadels 

Surrounded with such hypnotic wonders

Could that be why you love poetry

And books like a heavily laden chest

Filled with mesmerising dreamscapes 

To always fill you with joy and wonder 

So my question for you

Readers of old and readers of new

Who’s your favourite author or poet

Who always takes you under

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Librorum Amans:

Book lover 

Do we as writers create emotional bridges

 

As writers, are we all but seducers of the minds of others

We silently kiss in friendship 

As they read one of our poetic gifts?

(À lone voice whispers)

Do we as writers create emotional bridges

That needs to be crossed

Like visionaries like Robert Frost

For the readers to follow our trail of black fonts into the darkness 

We sometimes visit, when developing new projects

About inspirational strengths or themes of spiritual weakness

Some may feel compelled to call us charlatans

New reborn Kings and Queens of somewhere totally cosmopolitan

Seducers of fragile minds

And hold us upright 

As just sinners and bringers of emotional tragedies

Using poetry as liquid oxygen 

But at the core

Our message can also simply be this

Do more

Live for any form of happiness and find and treasure a loving muse

Paint touching visceral pictures through stories

Using music or poetry as your lyre

And put them to good use

Never lament old age as it tries to freeze your youthful body

Once so beautiful and lithe

So in ending

In long days

When your weary heart seems heavy, and you lose hope and feel all emotions

Linked to love or compassion has suddenly died

Look towards tomorrow's new eyes and be lifted up in Dawn’s rose-flushed arms 

And find a way to 

Others and yourself to

Forgive 

Even if you've cried

Then stand back and look into life’s deep mirrors and always remember

You have so much more 

To still give

And embrace this thought denied to so many

Some slowly 

Some suddenly 

As you read this

You still have one of life's greatest gifts

Be proud 

Because so much good can still happen

Because you still live

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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Esuries (L)

 Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)

Has love's incandescent crimson light bulb

Illuminated your lonely soul yet

To help you forget 

Those quiet years

When you walked upon fragile parapets alone 

You'd rather now paint

Using poetry as your only form of catharsis

Before you are called home

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Esuries translated:

Hunger

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Channelling a King

 

(A regal voice whispers)

Oh, Here,

She Comes

Oh, Here,

She Comes

Oh, Blessed Be

Oh Blessed be

Tonight the Goddess of Fertility and Motherhood

Appears on her white charger

To enchant and tempt all

Who wish to follow her

To her Faeryland

Ashera

The Goddess

At this dire hour

Comes forth

And rides in front

For all the anointed

To see Her

Gowned from head to toe

In a golden and green

Priceless steel armour

A true beauty of so

much Love and Light

With such beautiful brown opal eyes

Which glow

Like hidden fires

Once lit

In secret woodland groves

Who no one

Only the good

Dare to follow

For they know

Instinctively

The secret way

To the

Magical Doorway

In the Sacred Oak

So if you see or feel a gust of musty wind

Or smell a divine scent

That all your five senses are invoked

And conquered with such an exotic abundance

Of wild divine energy

For that's her biomarker

When she chooses to appear to the young

The old and elderly

Who may be in jeopardy

For she's Heaven sent

And hear the sound of her approaching steed's

Golden bells

That ring

Which hang on the necks on their black leather harnesses

So they can joyously

In unison

Rhythmically sing

It might be best to lay in the wide shades

Of your woodland hides

If you're tainted with sin

Way

Way

In the deep green green grass

And you she will pass

Or you could follow

Like a true believer of Apollo

As she rides

While above you

Skies above your New Age

Gradually gets darker

With the cries for war

Created worldwide famine

And soon-to-be global financial horror and ruin

Back to her Blessed Hollow

Beyond the Magical Doorway

To the Hidden Realm

Where I too reside

In Sweet Lands

Of The Great Sacred Oak

For her and her many

Fairy Folk

Tonight

They raid

For here will soon come

The Wild Riders

From across The Shee

Smiling gleefully

Totally unafraid

So tonight

This incantation

Whisper by I

Once known as

King Arthur

The first Knight

Of the Secret Guild

Of The Half-Light

Commands you all

To light

All the yellow hay-like beacons

Within your inquisitive minds

To create your own versions

Of my once treasured

Bridles Way

In England

To guide the Named Few

Maybe even you

To cross the Fairy folk's Fells

So in this year

Reeking of fear

The wildfires of Fertility and Motherhood

Can continue to burn within you

Without shedding a tear

So the seductive Myloto Dance

Can once more truly

Come alive

So many can dance

Play

Lay

Pray or sing

With the new freedom, they've never felt before

The Dawn cockerel screams

To break her hypnotic enchanting spell

As the rising morning

Sun

Once more

Announces

It's

Closing that magical paranormal portal

Back to her Sacred Hollow

For the brave few

That queued in procession

The whole night through

When they found the courage and followed

So her golden precious bells

To them

Could sing

Forever

A proclamation to defeat all known deep depressions

For they like me

And many others

Will soon be annotated

To be reborn

Immortal

To live in happiness

With our beloved Asher**

A beautiful goddess of Heaven

Just not known

 to many

Still living mortals

Still living mortals

Who'll never find the way

Or the Keys of Courage

To crossover

By using her secret magical

Paranormal

Portal

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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Jericho's Prayer Letter Fire Ceremony Offering

 

There is a call deep on high

It whispers in the darkness and constantly cries

It speaks of divided parts entangled but still standing whole

An unconquerable timeless love forever aflame between two now lonely souls

I was once yours it whispered and you were always mine

Simultaneously, we might be separated by the great veil, but we’ll still stand together as one 

Watching the crestfallen stars until the fall of time

For together we are indivisible by death and all that remains

For we two carry our golden chains even though its burdens may cause temporary pain

We are but just lonesome wanderers awaiting reunion

But one day we shall again be as one 

You’ll just have to be patient and wait until my time is run

Such longing flows through my veins

The one I still miss who could no longer remain

It’s but a holy need I really could not casually dismiss as your soft caresses I still really just miss

I can only but look forward to a new tomorrow when we shall once again meet in a new Summerland 

Devoid of pain, cancer, or sorrow

To be reunited in halls of immeasurable secrets

Where we shall no longer grow old and all our love shall be reborn and surrounded by lights of shimmering silver and gold

I visited a medium in the fall of the last Full moon

And Shirley said 

My other half still waits in the dark

She stands lonely too with a broken heart that still pines

So Julia

This is my message for you

One day, beyond the mists of time in a new place filled with tranquilly for all to behold.

All our stories and adventures shall be retold

For ours is a love which shall still grow as we are inescapable souls

Irredeemable, we may still be 

Full of mortal faults and mistakes, but blessed be by the lights of Goddess Albina

Beyond the Great Wormwood Star

Unconquerable two souls

Will once again 

Walk as one

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

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Apollyon Relationships

 Press play.

(A lone voice whispers)

Have you ever had a disastrous relationship before, or looked at a friend, and wondered…

Were the dark forces at play at any given emotional, traumatic moment?

Title: 

Apollyon Relationships

(A lone voice ponders after a first date)

Are you my 

Morning Star

My fallen introduction

To spiritual and physical sin

A dark place 

Where I might never win

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Reference in this case.

Apollyon. / () / noun. 

New Testament the destroyer, a name given to the Devil (Revelation 9:11)

The Beguiled

 (A lone voice whispers at 3 am)

There was always something so controversial and medieval 

About exploring semi-clothed in the dark shadows

All the deeply hidden essences of you

But I guess it's just one of the many unspoken reasons 

Why I stepped into your view

Just unconsciously attracted when you appeared 

Right out of the blue

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

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Manifestation Dreams

 

Manifestation Dreams

Are we just in a gulag

Of our own making?

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Foundation.

Do we make our own prisons of the mind, we silently wallow in every day?

Gulag

Slang for any prison or detention camp.

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