No one is innocent

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

No one is innocent

Only at the beginning 

For we were all born to see 

If we could resist sinning

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Do you like Gothic transmissions

 

The Last Words of the Seeker in Sheol 

(A tired voice whispers)

I think I was put under love's enchanted spell

When I first met that wondrous heart 

That to me 

Quietly yelled

For I've walked so many hard miles in this black sand and yellow sea

Acid rain and pale snow

As far as my tired eyes could see

Wandered to low places 

Where the Good 

Don't go

Seen dark shadows 

Dance the Argentine Tango as fireflies glowed

But still, I stand strong

Even though my clothes and eyes are wet 

Wet with those old tears, 

I once cried

When you died

Walking and finding 

This 

The only way

Was hard and long

With just my memories of your love

To carry me 

To find you

With its sweet mesmerising song

And for centuries 

I searched through these wind-blown mists

And now at the threshold of all things

As a lone bell rings

I call out across these ever-changing roads

Are you there

My only goth girl

My torment and heaven at noon

The one bestowed with all the gifts

Who once made my poor soul bloom 

If so

Open up the bejewelled doors

And let me into that room

Where you stand

Use your Frankincense

Herbs of blue and pure prayers

To create a sacred space in the Promised Land

To save this lovesick veteran 

Of the universes 

Endless spiritual wars

This I call in front of all

Will you appear

From the folds 

And show me

Once again 

Your beautiful face

Before I merge forever

Into this cold yellow sea

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

A dark gift for Halloween

 Blessed be.

Velumbound 

(A lone, old but confident seductive voice whispers in 2026)

Well, hello there

From my fire-lit throne room, here

Seated amongst the hail and the bright golden fireflies

With new fear mixed and burning with black blood

With Arâkîba and Râmêêl as my two witnesses

Surrounded by my four

Horsemen

Slaves on their different coloured horses

With souls crying underneath my cracked white altar

Crawling in your humanity's deep crimson mud

As they scream out for salvation into the whaling now endless night

Drowning in this new flash flood

The Harvest of the Earth is soon to begin

We’ll all emerge laughing

With seven bowls

Held out as you all scream

Just asking to feed on more

Of your worshipped kings or queens

The Wormwood Star

So bright

Will light our way

Over Shoels old Borders

Heralding us

To be the newly anointed eaters

Of all your sins

The silence in Heaven

Will be our Seventh Seal

Our earthly manifestation and

Our second reintroduction

The pagan Songs of Old Moses

About the Seven Angels

Carrying the Seven Plagues

Will once more be sung

In a new Sodom and Gomorrah

The Scarlet Woman

Her Red Dragon

And the two pagan beasts

From the East

I will send forth from Hades

Summoned to create a

Plague of locusts

As they start so many delicious

New crusades

The Seven-Sealed Scrolls

Which speak of

The Lamb Slain

When great earthquakes

Send all mountains thrown into

Boiling molten seas

As a third of the Sun and

Moon

Collide in such violence

The survivors of your world

Will watch

Star-struck in silence

There will be no judgments or rewards

No new personages, medals, or salvation

But

With a tremendous earthquake

I'll send walking up

Euphrates River

One of my old queens

Babylon

Greatest of all prostitutes

With lips painted red and

Sharp crimson nails

She’ll seduce all watchers

With wide eyes before they all die

And my Babylon of Old

Will once again rise

All seas will soon turn to blood

Vengeful and painful

Overflowing and

Filled with such beautiful political sores

People once torched by Torquemada’s fires

In those dammed inquisitions

In the Middle Ages

Shall escape from my darkness

To taste the pain

Many will soon worship

My once unspoken name

Samîazâz

And soon when I return

We will all hold hands in a new salt circle

Illuminated by a thousand old stars

To then put up

A new broken

Black and red flag

To forever sing

O’ Blessed be

So mote it be

And then you will all drown in mortal and sexual sin

O’ Blessed be

So mote it be

Asmodeus is soon to come

For we are legion

So sing to us

O’ Blessed be

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Have you seen the? sacred tree that all lovers see

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

A transmission about the "sacred tree" that all lovers see represents the universal, almost mystical awakening of romantic devotion. 

The "eight magical letters" explicitly spell out the phrase "I love you," acting as a binding spell that persists even after the relationship eventually "stutters" or ends.

Let us begin. 

The Sacred Tree

(A lone voice whispers)

I can remember now I'm seventy-five

In this nursing home called

The Atonement 

A surreal time 

When I felt so alive

A pivotal moment in my life when happiness blew 

Like a magical ruby red seed within golden leaves

Through my soul garden

Where nobody grows

And slowed and stopped to paint a priceless picture like a young Picasso 

I thought would last forever

When we caressed 

And would never die 

Up high 

In our now twin minds, 

Midnight sky

A tapestry of two hearts beating as one 

Entwined in mind

Where in time

We spoke in rhymes 

But like all golden leaves once green

Sent from The Great In-Between 

The gold heralds a time to grieve

So now apart

We silently cry 

Me the daylight 

And She 

The crow 

Who flies at night 

With ruby red lips

Bestowed with a kiss 

To sink so many ships

And in this mournful hour, in this precarious night 

As I write

Before Saint Peter

Calls me home

I leave this letter to her

Infused with powerful memories of those happy days and hours

So she knows

I'll always remember the day we first met

And each willingly received

A red rose from the secret tree

All lovers see

In each other's enamoured eyes

When with eight magical letters

They bind forever 

With a sweet romantic line

They utter

I love you

Before their beautiful relationship stutters

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy 

A transmission projected down from the height of the COVID years.

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Can you remember those fear-inducing speeches? 

(A lone voice whispers)

With vacant, empty stares

Like the husk above and desolate, soul-crushing goals

They who love to stand on mahogany podiums to talk and preach

Those who'd like to paint the globe in anxious red paint 

Creating drum beats of suspicion

To all within their reach

And then instruct mandates that could make a sane man faint 

For people to comply for their own safety 

With a straight face 

Pretending they aren't tainted 

Corrupted or even classed as crazy 

But in reality

The masses now wilfully mesmerised and gleefully enrolled

Are just restrained like prisoners in orange jumpsuits

By those they've put in control

Because of this and their devoted followers  

Who through social media 

Feel they can openly criticise whilst on patrol

 

This continuous talk of death and fear 

The threat of shedding so many unfortunate tears

Makes them listen to those issuing instructions

Even More

But beyond the limitations of all that seemingly hypnotising fear

There is still hope

 

Hope in the divine knowledge 

Of a new freedom

Once we go outside their strict walls and rigid ramblings

Breaking free from their cleverly crafted paradigms 

Linked to isolation and confinement 

Trying to imprison all those poor souls listening 

As they read from their new Dead Sea Scrolls 

We can each still create a new kingdom of our own

By keeping our faith and looking between the lies

Whilst tearing up labels and testimonies from those corrupted dark trolls

Just following hidden instructions 

From the ghouls 

Who are really in the know

Members of secret societies whose motto is simply  

Money and greed

What they do not know is 

"Radix Malorum Est Cupiditas" 

A Biblical quotation in Latin

Which means 

"Greed is the root of evil" 

Which will be the mantra of the Devil's Men when they come

And all they'll hear when their time is called

And to the 9th Circle be driven by the hell hounds

As they are recalled

Where they'll suffer into eternity

When their pitiful souls over hot coals are hauled

Keep the faith

Better days are coming your way

Your life has never been just another commodity 

That can be easily bought and sold

If you never agree 

to put it up for sale

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy

.

Can you ever trust politicians?

  Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Can you ever trust politicians? 

Here's a cynical, politically charged transmission that explores the concept of personal liberty and individual autonomy against a backdrop of institutional manipulation. 

The piece serves as a cautionary warning to the reader, urging them to develop hyper-awareness ("open your eyes real wide") to avoid being exploited by political forces.

Libertas

(A lone voice whispers)

Some say to be free

And avoid being played 

By anyone or anything 

Consumed and discarded like a cheap bottle of lemonade 

By the charge of those drinking warm bottles of Kool-Aid 

From their brown bag of tricks 

You have to open your eyes real wide to see

To try to see what they plan and say in the shade

To see what they really know and places they go

To hear the true sounds of the bells they ring

And in that moment 

As you watch with bright eyes aglow

To hear what songs they sing

As their record plays 

You will know where their true loyalties lie

And know

If you're being played or betrayed 

By those dark souls

Who hide 

Like members of The Lost Crusade 

Amongst the dark shadows of humanity's deadly nightshade 

Called politics 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Are you still here?

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

If you are still here. 

In my dark corner of the Web. 

Where the curious are compelled to find something more than the flesh peddlers on patrol. 

I give you "Lost Love." 

A deeply melancholic, structured free-verse transmission that explores the long-term devastation of grief, tracking the exact timeline of a 22-year emotional aftermath.

(A lone voice whispers) 

I met my first love in June

When the full Moon 

Ruled the night sky

Like Zeus

And those sweet memories will always remain

Even now,

Since she's gone and I feel such pain.

The Heavens light 

I know

Will shine soon again 

Lighting up the Moon 

As we once more are reintroduced

Like on that beautiful day 

We first met in June

And even though this pain follows me 

Like a ghost down every lane

In the public and spiritual domains

Offering me dark fruits

Like Hera

I still march on

Carried by the memories of walking hand in hand 

In such fun

Fancy free and footloose 

Down so many unforgettable side streets 

And that's why 

Even now, 

After 22 years

Of painful mental abuse 

I can't say goodbye 

For as I look up into the night sky

Up high

And see a full Moon 

I still cry

Inside 

Asking 

Oh, 

Why Lord

Did my true love have to die

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Did he deliver?

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Here's a contemporary political transmission that captures the intense, almost religious fervour of modern American political rallies. 

Written in the context of a 2024 election year, the piece functions as an objective, observational critique of populism and the powerful psychological bond between a charismatic leader and their followers.

Today's question in 2026: did he deliver? 

Title. 

2024

The people gathered like resilient members of a secret survivalist group 

Day and night

To watch the main podium speaker

Preach to their audience and sing

While red and blue flags 

Adorned with stars and stripes

Fluttered like butterfly wings 

As the ignited ones

Looked to the one

Who promised to change a million and one things 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Who would you miss?

 Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

A theme many don't consider until it's too late.

People taking people for granted, thinking they'll be around forever.

Title:

Mortality 

(A lone voice whispers)

My name doesn’t matter

Only one question matters

Who would you really miss

If you could only give them

One last mortal goodbye kiss, tomorrow 

Which one of your family

Friends or relatives 

All beloved folks in your Houses of Representatives

Would leave you wallowing in true sorrow?

For as true as the cock crows 

No one is promised 

Tomorrow 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

One for the Night Owls. Maybe you.

 Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

One for you to carry into the night. 

The Nightwalker

(A lone voice whispers)

They 

Call me Ramon

The nightwalker looking for her

The one who summons me with her faint calls of

Dépêche-toi mon amour

Dépêche-toi mon amour

(Hurry up, my love)

And when I finally appear

She disappears smiling and whispers

Pas ce soir, mon amour, laisse le grand jeu continuer. 

Cette poursuite passionnante est tout ce que nous avons maintenant. 

Ne gâchons pas ce rêve mystique de The Great In-Between.

Que la poursuite continue.

(Not tonight, my love; let the great game continue. 

This thrilling chase is all we now have. 

Let's not spoil this mystical dream from The Great In-Between.

Let the chase continue.)

And then slowly glides like a vampire clad in black and gold

With long crow black hair 

To where I can never go

As I lament 

O, my love

My Lylak Queen

Oh, my love

A potent power of living

Breathing carnal sin

Borne from the Babylonian bloodlines

Freed once more

By the Deep Well

To entice 

All in view 

Who dare pine

To be put under

Your spell

When you arrive

Like a new Cleopatra 

Dressed to the nines

In gold and diamonds

It's why I always wait

Like a faithful follower

Forever in the shadows

Hidden on the sidelines

For how can I win

Against such a goddess of potent sin

Elusive

So intoxicating

Seductive

I feel blessed by Pāgānus

If Pāgānus was a god

For I'd walk the two hundred miles of

The Four Pillars of Zanzibar

To see your smile

Swim in the hazardous Pele Waters

At dusk

Just for a taste

Of your sensuous hypnotic musk

For obsession is a crazy horse to ride 

To dark places

Where low men scoop fire into their laps

Praying their clothes will not get burnt

As they wander 

Lost 

Like Bedouin Princes

In the deserts of the mind

Walking the wet shores 

Of the Lylak

Looking forever 

For your silhouette

Never to ask for help 

Or to go back

It's why I wait

Here

In The Great In-Between

Fearful of abandonment 

Since the first day 

We met

For chasing a love like yours

Is like playing a crazy game with Diablo

Like Russian Roulette

Sometimes as I hear 

The footsteps

Of another arrival 

And when the Great Golden Trumpet blows

In that moment 

I always wonder

Is that your omnipotent power

With one kiss

Is one doomed to chase

And

Cursed to crave

To never forget 

To then ride to 

The wet shores of the Lylak 

To dark places

Where low men scoop fire into their laps

Praying their clothes will not get burnt

As their souls

Cry out in thirst

Dépêche-toi mon amour

Dépêche-toi mon amour

Hurry up, my love 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy