. Poetry from The Great In-Between

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 

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 🙏🎈? 


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 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 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 (ŚֱŚœָŚ”)


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


Press.play.

 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 


Merry Christmas