For loving deeply often involves suffering, sacrifice, or loss.
And every form of love teaches us something but also takes something from us.
You do know, I know you do, that love contains many “small deaths”:
Heartbreak, letting go, change, vulnerability, fear, endings, guilt, and so many more.
So is love just another paradox?
A paradox where love is life-giving, but to love is also to “die” many times—through heartbreak, endings, or simply the vulnerability required to love someone?
This short poem compresses a whole philosophy of the human experience into two lines.
Do we as writers create emotional bridges to be crossed by angels or devils?
(A lone voice whispers)
As writers, are we all but seducers of the minds of others?
We silently kiss on the cheek in a strange interdimensional friendship?
As they read one of our poetic gifts?
Do we as writers create emotional bridges that need to be crossed or stepped upon to see a new view, like visionaries like Robert Frost?
For the readers to follow our trail of black fonts into the darkness or light?
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, they hold us upright as just sinners and bringers of emotional tragedies.
Using poetry to create metaphorical histories as liquid oxygen.
But at the core.
The Very Nexus.
Can our message also simply be this?
Do more.
Live for any form of happiness and not be just another form of darkness.
Find and treasure a loving muse.
Paint touching, visceral pictures through strange, poetic stories.
Use 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 in the future past.
When your weary heart seems to grow heavy, and you seem to lose hope and feel all emotions:
Linked to love or compassion has suddenly died.
Look towards tomorrow's new eyes and be lifted in Dawn's rose-flushed arms.
And find a way to forgive others and yourself.
Even if you've cried in pain.
Then stand back and look deep 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 more positive. Share more light, not darkness.
And then feel proud, since so much good can still happen. Because you still live.
(C) Copyright John Duffy
This poem is a meditation on what it means to be a writer—especially a poet—and on the quiet but powerful relationship between writer and reader.
It blends self-doubt, creative philosophy, and ultimately encouragement.
Here’s the meaning broken down in a clear, reader-friendly way:
Writers as creators of emotional bridges:
The poem asks whether writers build “bridges” made of emotion—pathways readers can cross.
Those who cross them might be “angels or devils,” meaning readers bring their own experiences, wounds, or intentions.
The writer cannot control who comes, only that they create something that invites others in.
Writing as a form of seduction and intimacy:
By calling writers “seducers of the minds of others” and describing a “silent kiss on the cheek,” the poem suggests that writing is an intimate act.
Reading becomes a quiet, interdimensional meeting between two strangers who may never speak but still connect.
The poetic tradition and the weight of influence:
The reference to Robert Frost implies that writers follow in the footsteps of visionary creators, leaving “trails” for readers to follow “into the darkness or light.”
Poetry becomes a path toward understanding, transformation, or confrontation with one’s own emotions.
Doubt about the role of the writer:
Writers are sometimes seen as:
Charlatans.
Seducers of fragile minds.
Creators of emotional drama.
The poem acknowledges these criticisms but also hints that poets can feel like “reborn kings and queens,” powerful through creativity, not status.
The core message:
Do more. Live more. Love more.
After the philosophical self-questioning, the poem shifts into a motivational tone.
It encourages the reader to:
Seek happiness.
Value creativity.
Appreciate inspiration and muses.
Stay youthful in spirit even as the body ages.
Keep making art.
Hope, renewal, and forgiveness:
The poem speaks to people who feel exhausted, heartbroken, or hopeless. It reminds the reader that:
Even when emotions feel dead, dawn (a new beginning) will return.
Forgiving others and oneself is necessary to heal.
Life still offers gifts—chief among them the fact that you’re still alive.
The ending emphasizes:
Being positive
Sharing light instead of darkness, Recognizing personal worth.
Understanding that as long as you live, possibility remains.
In essence:
This poem reflects on the purpose and power of writing, acknowledges
the burden and beauty of influencing others, and ultimately turns into an uplifting call to live with more hope, creativity, forgiveness, and love.
.A poem that explores the contrast between a person’s outward beauty and their hidden inner self.
It reflects how someone can appear radiant, composed, or even perfect to the outside world, yet still carry private struggles, secrets, fears, or emotional depth that they keep locked away.
Despite this concealment, the speaker says they can see the whole person, including the parts that are meant to stay hidden.
So here's a meditation on how someone can present themselves beautifully to the world, yet hide deeper truths in a private, almost secret place.
That only a true friend knows.
Have you got a true friend who knows the real you?
Title.
Compartmentalized.
(A lone voice whispers)
As delicious-looking as you are to the whole watching world.
As glorious as a red rose in full bloom, I can still see all of you.
The real you.
Even your shadowy self, you carefully hide away within that darkened bedroom. .
Keeping it under strict lock and key and buried like Alexander the Great in the deep seas.
No matter who tries to discourage you, your goals and dreams are valid.
Your worth comes from within.
You can rise beyond negativity.
Your journey has meaning.
So here's a piece just for you as an affirmation of inner power:
“If you've been criticized and doubted, rise anyway.
For you're strong, guided, purposeful, and unbreakable.”
Use it as a declaration of self-belief in the face of adversity — a reminder to hold on to one’s identity and purpose, even when others misunderstand or try to diminish it.
If your higher self had a voice, what would it say?
Something like below, I hope.
Salute.
Title:
Be a Warrior.
Mirroring from the Abyss.
(A lone voice whispers)
My name doesn't matter, for
My narrative you may try your hardest to shatter.
You may smirk at my goals and dreams.
You may try to erase them with cruelly whispered jibes, but I have an alibi.
For I'm a warrior, just fiercely striding forth.
Conquering fear and doubts daily.
I wonder upon criticism's invisible shores and still overcome so much more.
I am an immortal composed of sinews saturated with the ever glowing bright stars.
Look at me.
You green-eyed beauties.
Watch me rise above your worthless words and cries.
Watch me soar as I pursue dreams and yours just linger confused and die.
For I'm Artemis or Hercules rolled into one.
I'm my moon and everlasting sun.
The winds just silently whisper my name.
The stars shine, guiding my way as I run.
I'm just me.
I always rise, whatever the crowd says.
And it's that sweet thought I'll continue, until the end of my days.
For I'm a Warrior, just sent by my God, to help guide others.
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