Thursday, October 31, 2024
Wednesday, October 30, 2024
Mortality
Press play.
Foundation of the piece.
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 a date with Lady Tomorrow
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Tuesday, October 29, 2024
Monday, October 28, 2024
Lucid Dreaming
I dreamt I was once a priest
And holding a sermon was always my calling
Especially to help those in the dark
Lonely and alone
Who feel like they are
Forever
Falling
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Based on a lucid dream.
Vague details are below!
I dreamt I was in a gigantic church.
Like a football theater. Dressed like a priest.
Another priest introduced me.
Asked if anyone had any questions for our new speaker of the night?
A lady then stood up, reading her question from a book regarding sin.
I answered.
Something like this to that lady and that gigantic audience.
Everyone sins at some level, for only one man was perfect.
And if we show remorse
humility and a form of reconciliation with God again, for our transgressions
We still have a chance to dance in heaven.
I went on to explain I have no formal training. Don't know hymns by heart but hear God everyday as I pray
Then the dream ended with the priest encouraging the audience to stand and clap.
Lucid dreaming is said, by some, to project your soul into other realities, you exist within.
Could I be a priest in another alternative reality?
Maybe it's true.
Quantum physics are undoing a lot of previously unknown mysteries.
The strange laws of synchronicity might be at play.
A few years ago, I was asked to start my own online church.
Would you listen to one of my sermons đđ?
Sending best wishes to my silent viewers.
Mr John Duffy
Priest in another realm
The Nightwalker
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
DĂ©pĂȘche-toi mon amour
DĂ©pĂȘche-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 gĂąchons pas ce rĂȘve 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 with
Tasanna
O, my love
My Lylak Queen
O, my love
A potent power of living
Breathing carnal sin
Born 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 intoxicatingly
Seductive
I feel blessed by PÄgÄnus
If PÄgÄnus 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 Prince's
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
DĂ©pĂȘche-toi mon amour
DĂ©pĂȘche-toi mon amour
Hurry up my love
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
The Nightwalker
Image shared under fair usage policy via Pinterest.
Tenebris Oculi (L) AKA Mr. Dark Eyes
A long occult gift for the inquisitive
Tenebris Oculi (L) AKA Mr. Dark Eyes
(A lone voice whispers)
To all the mysterious souls just lost beyond my second sight and long reach
Maybe even you
Who are perhaps my number 2 from a pack of 7
Hiding somewhere unknown in Father Time's long silver grass
Watching my every move like Loki the Norse Raven
Lying scattered across all the oceans and before all the greatest of Antarctic lakes
Below (ŚֱŚָŚ)
Quietly reading this and trying to compose inspired poetry
Beseeching your inner mind's great portico to quickly open
And spill forth
Secretive words only once whispered long ago and spoken in the darkest of carved out corridors
Celebrating the Festival of Karneia on the Fourth
By the Pythia to bathe within its spectacular potency
In ancient Apollo's candlelit yellow temples in Pompeii
In cold winters nights
May these channelled words find a way
To weave a magical spell to beguile your own inquisitive mind and everlasting soul
To be slowly opened up with Apollo's ritual athame
Carving poetry with Apollo's knife into your deep mind many kingdoms
Everywhere you go
For you to then find the courage to breach your own inner great gates
To finally find and drink from that mystical ever-flowing well
Found in the centre of all things
To know how infectious Apollo's power is
Beyond those inner great gates
By only the true believers like maybe you and the many seekers of the profound truths
Found
In linking expressive verbs like daisy chain necklaces
Seeking to taste whatever their spirits really desire and then hoping to hold their nerve
And make the return journey home
Filled and sated
With smiling faces
Wildly mentally dancing to a new sound
Announcing the arrival of their life's only holy obligation
Like a true gift at Christmas
To then write profusely
Be it at midnight or throughout the long days
Recalling and narrating the many sacred strands
And complex explorations of the many layers of human emotions
From Love
Hate
Life and Death
And whatever else
That comes smiling or snarling their way
From those just hidden beneath all blue and green seas
The Great Old Ones
In the deep depths
Of the Final Abyss
Hidden somewhere in the fluctuating waves of the Fram Strait
A passageway taken by those who deep dream
Seeking that rare gift
Somewhere in the deep of the Arctic Ocean
Seeking their own Beginning
A journey into the deepest depths of poetry also known as The Exposition
For within that setting
At that time and place
They build like master masons
Characters and plots to beguile the watching world like a reborn Dante Alighieri
An occult philosophical theory found in the foundation stones of music and stories
Poetry
Awaiting to be consumed by a new Adam and Eve
In the form of a tempting rust red cherry
Escribe como debes No dejes que tus expresiones se conviertan en polvo.
Write as you you should. Don't let your expressions turn to dust
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy
Sunday, October 27, 2024
Revelations
An ode to that deep inside, which carries and leads us, towards the light.
If we try to do what's right.
Salute.
Have a great Monday.
Title:
Revelations
(A lone voice speaks from The Great In-Between)
Have you ever really thought
How delicate yet courageously brave your eternal soul must be
As it swims daily
Upstream
Conquering painful struggles
Day and night
Heartbroken dreams
and encountering
obstacles and people
As they come into sight
All frayed at the seams
In the deep sludge
Of humanity's soul purging Black Sea
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy
The Love Gambler
Fragments of an unusual dream from last night.
A strange conversation between two lost souls, it seems.
It makes an interesting monologue, though.
Oh, the joys of visiting, Lucidity City!
Salute.
Title:
The Love Gambler
(A lone voice whispers)
Did you once truly love me
Like I loved you
For I need to know
If we were once
A
We
Or is it still just another darkly lit daydream
Illuminated by shadow birthing white candles
I habitually cling to
In my self-imposed darkness
One where we find true happiness and togetherness
Buy a house
Have four children and sit happy in contentment
Did I claim a part of your once unapproachable soul
As you once preached
A place
Where now
No one
No longer knows
For it's beyond their mortal reach
When on that sad but memorable day
In Los Angeles
You quietly told me
Standing by The Four Ladies of Hollywood
To go
Was I just a childish
foolish dream to carry you
On a crimson stretcher of unrequited love
To safety
Beyond some deep emotional pain
You were going through
Am I now just discarded
Like a drained paper Costa coffee cup
Since you said your unbearable goodbyes
When you embraced
On that fateful day
Before we went to Los Angeles
All your family and kin
Sweet backstabbing lies
Will I rise up to face any upcoming storms
Within these winds of change
I feel like soft and sharp feathers on my skin
As it blows over, my prayers of positive new horizons
Watching me standing
Like Ulysses
Here at the beginning of the world's many awakening United Nations
Or will I fall like one of The Watchers
Headfirst into the blood-red snow of self-flagellation
But as I pause and look back at my once thought complete life
Like the doomed wife of Lot in The Book of Genesis
And meditate over its sad unique highways and unrequited byways
I hope
Deep down
They are replenished with self-growth
With blessings from a man who once died on the cross
On a hill with others
in Golgotha
With a roll of these lucky soul-transforming
Black and white dice
Called Transmigration
I now toss
To avoid the musky scent and dark gifts of Self Damnation
Which could turn me like Lot's wife
Into a pillar of salt
Brought from Hell's mythical vaults
To me
By a black flying albatross
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Image shared under fair usage policy.
The Broken
(A lone voice whispers)
With reflection
In this
The midnight hour
I light a white candle
For the one
Who once held me
Under her miraculous power
Driven by loves
Powerful painful desires
For us
Two of The Almas Perdidas
(Lost Souls)
Maybe like you
One of the Left BeHinders
Who wallow and wade through griefs tiring wailing waters
With a brokenheart
After love says
Farewell
To then become new drinkers
From Depressions deep well
Praying love returns
With a ring of a lone red bell
To see true love
Once more and say
Stay
Please
Please
Don't go away
And melt my heart
Stay
So we are now
No longer
Torn apart
But like all pilgrims seeking the reach of God
In their own particular way
We know that red bell will no longer ring
We know our hearts will never heal or sing
So we live
In a living version of Purgatory
Dying with each breath of decay
We take
As we watch and wait for our call
To join others
Now living beyond
Purgatory Great Gates
Enduring the greatest of falls
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
lmage shared under fair usage policy.
The Silver City
I can still remember when we waited all night long
Last October
In winter
As a lone blackbird sung her early evening song
Sat holding hands
Together
Before our time together
Splintered
Watching Luna ride her white chariot across the night sky
Sally
Your palliative nurse had dressed you in white and gold
Brushed your hair
Applied light makeup
As a surprise
For when you
Woke up
We gazed for hours
In total silence,
Looking deep into each other's eyes
Before we said our final goodbyes
Of only
I love you
As your Midazolam tired eyes closed
The hospice was cool and quiet
And the stars shone even brighter
In that moment
The twinkling lights in your brown eyes
Went out forever
And you laid cold and high
Due to continuous subcutaneous infusion
And in all that following confusion
When I cried
Holding your soft hands
Finally
Realising you had died
Swimming in and out of the clouds
Like grey smoke
Came a noise
Like a deep voice
That made me choke
It said
Don't cry for the dead
For in the seconds they say their final goodbyes
They wake again
In a new place
Where there are no more hospital beds
And people no longer die from poverty
Cruelty or bloodshed
But meet old loved ones
Like newly-weds
So take this from me
The communal processing officer of the now dead
Those that pass wait blessed by God's Head and with family and friends
In a Silver City that never ends
So dream easy
Stop crying
For those now dead or soon to be dying
In dreams, they can soon visit from The Great In-Between
Then the voice stopped as a shooting star shot across the now black sky
I asked Sally if she heard that voice or noise
She looked intensely at me for a moment
In that now quiet room and said
Yes,
I thought it was your wife talking
And that made me laugh
Laugh every day even though it might seem strange to strangers
For in that second, after that loud voice
I heard my Samantha say
Live well my love
Enjoy every moment of your time
Travel
Spread hope and compassion
And when you're ready
Laid in a hospice bed
Like me
Wear white and gold
The gold being our wedding band
And in that very last waltz with Death
When you take your last ever breath of the living dust
I will take you home to the Silver City where there is only love and no pity
Filled with people you can trust
So I write this note
As I leave for Italy
Here in this café for someone like you to read
The dead l
ive on forever
Waiting to be reunited
In The Silver City
If you just believe
Beyond the realm of the living dust
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
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