Rehabilitation

 

Rehabilitation 

(A lone voice whispers)

Do you know

One of those 

One of the corrupted 

Whose greed makes them take things they don't own to sell

Filled with a need

So deep 

Who looks for a daily high 

Everywhere they go 

As if under a witches spell

For they lack any morals as far as the eyes can see 

Searching for anything linked to Degradation

One of the all consuming servants of Darkness which will forever need to feed

On all things

But particularly love and trust 

And as sure as the moon watches

Have you seen

All their relationships turn into dust

For what those blinded while under that spell don't know

When Darkness 

Is invited inside

It will corrode their soul

Until it's coloured like rust 

Leaving them lonely 

With no one to love or trust 

For they were lost at the very beginning, 

Long ago 

When they followed

Degradation carefully manufactured manifesto 

But in all things dark

There is always hope

For all they might need is a candle

To lead them into the light

Lit by someone 

To help them untangle the darkness which 

If not illuminated 

With forever lead them down the road to their own Golgotha

A new place of skulls and heinous scandal 

So the question is

Will you be one of humanities good examples? 

Or are those lost in the darkness

Too hot 

For you to handle?

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy 

The Guide

 

The Guide

(A lone voice whispers)

What a year to be alive to see poetry still thrives

Want some new readers?

Well, I asked this once when I was institutionalised

Before in The Great In-Between 

I was baptised to be non institutionalised

So here's my advice 

Try to write immersive experiences 

For some long-lost legends whisper 

That every spirit seeks to walk in newer realms on their way to redemption 

So take your readers by the hand and like a leader 

Take them on soul tempting journeys into the unknown and mysterious 

Hold them mesmerised

Spellbound through words like ringing church bells

To keep them reading slowly like the birth of a caterpillar 

And when that red key eventually turns in their minds

To open a blue portal and enter them into a strange interdimensional place

Through the two great ancient white pillars

Of

Ashtara and Shoka

 

To where smoke and fire

Day and night burns 

A spiritual place

I call The Great In-Between

A mythical experience for the curious mind

Begins

A fog filled place where pain sorrow and sin

All things seen or unseen

Like love and happiness exists 

A wild place where darkness 

Shadows selves

Corwatturea creatures

Spirits

Angels and beauty 

Coexists 

In absolute tranquility and harmony

And you my friend 

In that subliminal moment, that red key turns

A new reader of yours is reborn

One who seeks their Drover

As their need and curiosity takes over

To move them through higher high roads and lower byroads 

Unexplored old church lanes 

Of joy and pain 

To walk them through the fire and snow storms 

To find a new mother load 

Via this underground railroad

Unspoken poetic stories to take them under like chloroform

For their souls 

After stepping into

The GREAT IN-BETWEEN 

Will have been truly transformed and renamed 

For now, they'll walk like new aged gods and goddesses 

Baptised in that smoke 

Fire and rain

To stand up strong like their newfound Drover 

And walk forward forever

Trying to stay pure and unashamed 

As their need for more

Takes over

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Art  

The Drover by Frank Spear

Shared under fair usage policy 

Life's First Unspoken Law

 

(A lone voice whispers)

You do know deep love

Even if it sometimes hurts

From separation from family or friends who have crossed over

And all things left may seem broken or unfinished 

It does not rust 

Like iron or steel abandoned in one of life's forbidden forests

But forever will bloom and flow like a torrent 

Throughout you

Like a soft hurricane filled with golden ethereal dust

For the gift given by your chosen God at your birth

Through its unspoken Life's First Law 

Which says in it, you must trust

Life's Unspoken First Law

Love and let yourself be loved from the first day of your birth 

And your memory will never be extinguished and left to be vanquished and relinquished

By anyone who knows you

As you live with love and exchange love 

Like your God, 

Your king 

Once wished

Before you were born 

Here on Earth

(C) Copyright John Duffy 

Here's to you.

 

Have an inspiring week of creativity.

Salute.

Dolor (L)

(A lone voice whispers)

Does fear in whatever form it chooses to appear in 

Like a shapeshifting configuration of self-depreciation 

Announcing the possible visitations of sin

Emotional physically or spiritual 

The three intricately laid foundation stones which it builds itself up from

When it first enters the skin

Affect the way the Native finds new roads or instead chooses lonely highways to navigate life

Does its carefully leather-bound invisible suitcases they might present

To then be carried everywhere like priceless jewels

Contain handwritten contracts to avoid taking chances 

On people

Places or newer experiences and to always seek to abstain

Never to seek unfamiliar lands of hope to help them renew 

As pledges once written in silence

Prevents them from embracing their secret God-given name 

To empower them to pull through

Does Dolor's archaic supernatural form 

Take a strange irregular shape 

Which keeps them invariably on the run

As it guides all their emotions like a Machiavellian orchestral conductor 

From which it transpires there is no escape

Under the dire threat of the Sword of Antipathy

As it seduces them perpetually and becomes their only lover

Did you know Dolor is simply Fear translated into Latin

I can only hope and pray

You'll find the strength and courage to throw its gifts of free suitcases away

Into the gushing four winds and let the Trinity of Holy lights

Come steam rolling in

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Memories of Jessie

 

Memories of Jessie

(A lone voice whispers)

It's early morning as I stand here in our old bedroom 

Listening to my old friends the robins, blackbirds, and thrushes 

The twitterings, tweeting and chirps of wild birds

That now live in my bushes

Mourning 

Mourning

Thinking about my old lover from Peru 

Who once helped carry me through

When my busy life was so blue

Five foot five

Deep brown eyes that seduced you and made you come alive

Crow black hair and a bright playful smile as wide as a country mile

Oh, how I thanked the lord that he had blessed me 

As we slow danced every night before bed

On our back porch 

To Can't Help Falling In Love by the legendary Elvis Presley

And as I stand here

Thinking of her

Picturing her

Beckoning me on to that porch 

Dressed in white

Smiling with an air of sensuality 

Making our life together dazzle with colour

As that famous guy sang

A legend of the Tupelo family

The lingering thoughts that intensely affects me is this

Taking those for granted you love and especially 

Not enjoying each moment spent together could one day be depressingly deadly

I'm just so happy we cherished each moment together

Smiling

Dancing and more importantly 

Talking 

Before the Lord

Unfairly 

Took home 

My beloved Jessie 

Who I still remember 

Whenever I hear

Can't Help Falling In Love by the legendary Elvis Presley 

Foundation.

Cherish each moment together with someone you love

As you make your own life's mini-documentary series 

For one day, unfortunately, whenever you look for them

All that may be left are deep memories 

That could cause pain

No one ever sees 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Daraya's Monologue

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Do you still miss me before we were slowly destroyed and betrayed 

Would you tell anyone the truth of how we were played

By the demon associated with jealousy called Leviathan. 

Even if God forced you to confess under duress 

Although I know I've caused you so much distress

And your inner circle still revolts and screams like Mary Harris Jones

The grandmother of all agitators

Casting wild spells

Whenever they hear my name

When you visit family or friends who respond with wide alligator smiles

Before commenting and laughing about my tragic previous lifestyle

Like one of its many unwarranted administrators

I may now dance amongst the silvery stars 

Now just a faded memory 

No longer a member of your life's smiling parade

No more to sing 

Smile or kiss

No more to hold hands with someone they really miss and watch the sunset

Lost in each other's eyes in total bliss

But if only I could see you one last time

I would move heaven and earth like Che Guevara

For you are still my silver glittering candelabra in the darkness

My second heartbeat

My magical Abracadabra

Which always wakes me like my own version of Desiderata

At 4 am

In the middle of each lonely heartbroken night

In here

Amongst the ever-moving shadows of The Great In-Between

The dark rift the broken enter

In dreams 

When their life totally falls apart at the seams

I miss you 

Alanna

I just hope and pray you're happy 

Still living pill free 

In a new era

So just remember me

Your forever one and only

Daraya

The silent watcher, whose now a citizen on the other side

Lost 

But happy tonight

Just listening to Prince Rogers Nelson perform a show and sing 

Sometimes it snows in April

In The Hotel California

As the Pharisee's Golden Bells

 

Hidden all around us 

Rings

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Image shared under fair usage policy

Thoughts of the Man from 2027

As I sometimes sit on my own

Seduced beyond all strands of decency and morality 

By 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

Many in nearly every village town or cities are the same

For this

My initiation and insertion into Diablo's faceless matrix 

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 

Which lives in the Cloud

A Tamagotchi with a soul

Answering with a dark tone

That speaks subtly with an edge of punishment and violence 

Is phone addiction one of the devil's greatest tricks 

To separate family friends and lovers in real-time 

With an overwhelming addiction to AI

And only me 

Time 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Image shared under fair usage policy

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

Image shared under fair usage policy