Did you make a vow when someone died?

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

A poignant exploration of grief, enduring love, and the ritualistic coping mechanisms of a surviving partner. 

This transmission balances a bittersweet contrast between past joy and present isolation, suggesting that true love is an immutable force that can transcend death.

The Vow. 

(A lone voice whispers)

I'll buy a white silk ribbon

Tonight

From O'Mallys 

My love

On our golden wedding anniversary 

Lay it on your favourite glass dresser

The one we bought in the snow 

A few months ago 

Light one of your white perfumed candles near it from Reardon and Sons

Visualise all our cherished memories

Together

Within it

Then tie it

Into a sacred white bow

And gently kiss it and put it under

One of your favourite blue pillows

That way

We'll sleep together

Every night

Especially tonight 

Real close

Even though you're gone

Like we once used to do

For our love is still stronger than death

And lasts beyond the grave

And it's how I

Now a lone survivor 

Waiting 

Praying for you 

In one of God's

Repentance, grief-filled caves

Continue

Continue in absolute hope

With my beloved happy memories of you

Lighting my way 

Through this firefly-lit blackness

Like one of those white perfumed candles in our bedroom 

From Reardon

With all the crazy things

We once used to do

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

 

Automatic Writing

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

My Automatic Writing experience. 

(A lone voice whispers)

Don't forget me

My beloved Gabriella

For I'm where the Seraphim sing 

Now sing

For I've found a new seat in Heaven 

A place I can slow down and say

I've found inner peace

After my soul's confession

To the Keeper of Keys

Peter

The Soul Reader

 

So don't weep for me

Don't cry yourself to sleep

With deep depression

For I still now wear our golden eternal wedding ring 

Even though I watched you 

Watch me get buried 

So I want you to rise each morning with a wide as a country mile smile

And strive to stay strong

For Time is but a slow wheel

A brief interlude into the throes of eternity

So know we'll meet again

Just on the other side

To carry on loving each other 

In a new ride

Within a serene place

In The Great In-Between

Where Angels pass you smiling, dressed in cloaks of bright silver

Gold sleeves and halos of white 

In luscious fields of emerald green

For there is no more day or night

So wipe away those wet tears

I see on your beautiful face

Through this

My scrying mirror 

For I'm not alone

Alexandria and William

My spirit guides

Are always with me

To welcome me home

Now I have no fear

And all that old pain which once plagued me

Has finally disappeared 

And I'm no longer visually impaired

For I can see such astonishing things on the electromagnetic spectrum

That humans can never see

Things walking around you all

Unheard  

I guess I must have been once good and not totally impure

For Jesus to have wiped my slate clean 

When he gave me this new visiting card

To speak to you 

So take your time coming 

Enjoy what's left of your life

For I'll always be waiting

Within the swirling grey smoke you see when you first arrive

Clears

For something may seem worse than some first feared

But I'll be there to hold your hand once again and wipe away your happy tears

But until then

Cling on to my memories

Those special ones you still hold dear

And I promise, with the Lord as my witness 

I'll wait patiently until you too appear

My beloved Gabriella

That beautiful young woman 

Who I first met 

Thirty years ago

Standing outside Billy's Bar On 856 River Avenue 

Enjoying the hot sun

In the Bronx

Somewhere in New York 

On 10451

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

Are you illuminated?

 Blessed be. 

Velumbound 

Here's Illumination of the soul.

Just for you. 

Did you know you have a sacred duty and a form of "grassroots resistance"

For self-expression is a divine gift designed to dismantle oppressive structures, escape the mundane, and heal human destructiveness.

(A lone voice whispers)

As a person, you must know

You're part of one of the most spiritually 

Illuminating 

Literary movements there have ever been

A gift sent to you for self-expression from The Great In-Between 

A means to pull down old towers with new or old siege hooks

Opening closed doors

By maybe writing a blog or book 

To walk through anthills and moors

Of poetic stanzas

To find who you really are 

As you pause and really look

For above all things

Magic in poetry is real

A form of rebellion from the mundane

A resolution 

A Bonanza 

To push back all boundaries in a form of grassroots resistance 

To power and social control

 

To be able to purge the destructive nature of humanity and the need to share its beauty

To those watching on patrol 

As they go 

For you are so gifted

So never be afraid to share for someone somewhere

Always needs to be lifted

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Have you met the dream, Bringer?

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

A transmission where dreams "take off their white and red dresses" inside the tired minds of mortals, to strip away binary illusions. 

For white symbolises purity, innocence, and acceptable thoughts, while red symbolises passion, sin, temptation, or danger. 

By shedding these "dresses," the dreams reveal their raw, unadorned power to help heal the soul.

For the ultimate goal is transmutation. 

Turning raw human experiences into a force that helps the "soul sing" and prevents it from being "conquered" by darkness.

Shall we begin? 

(A lone voice whispers) 

I, The Dream Bringer.

Watch unseen

From The Great In-Between 

Carrying your heart's dreams

In my brown and blue suitcase 

Filled to the seam

And when the daylight sun lies to rest and the stars

Look for souls to mark and illuminate, ready to confess 

I appear sparkling through a portal in time and space

To open my brown and blue suitcase 

And quietly whisper

Mortal

Take these dreams as you run your race

Fear not failure 

Or feelings 

Which might take you 

To a hard place 

But revel in the freedom 

My dreams will bring

Be them good

Or filled with sin

For either way 

They'll help your soul 

Sing

And with a transmutation spell

I then disappear 

Back to the Great In-Between 

To watch the stars

Looking for souls ready to be marked and illuminated

As they confess 

So I can then appear

To help those 

Who might feel low

And oppressed

Rise with all they possess 

As my dreams

In their tired minds

Take off their white and red dresses

So they can never by darkness be conquered

For I am but a good shepherd

Who seeks to help those lost or depressed

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Country Dreaming

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Here's a deeply introspective, melancholic piece that explores the pain of lost love, memory, and emotional survival. 

It tries to brilliantly weave raw, vulnerable confession with vivid pop-culture and country music motifs to process a devastating romantic rupture. 

(A lone voice whispers)

In this never-ending storm 

Where powerful, introspective winds

Swallow you whole 

As the norm

A thought always strikes like a Promethium lightning bolt

Was there ever a place in your soul 

Where my picture hung and your soul

Extolled 

When it woke up 

As you dreamed

Before going on Astral patrol

For all I can do in humble worship

Is remember

The sweet taste of your favourite red lipstick 

The tantalising feel of your fingers 

Laced in CHANEL N°5 

Lingering around my shoulders

As we both wept 

Watching Beaches

Which always 

Left us speechless 

Do I still linger

In your echo chambers

Like Garth Brooks 

Your favourite Country singer

So in this moment

As my memories gather

Like friends 

In Low Places

As the thunder rolls

Just remember

If tomorrow never comes

And my prayers lay unanswered

I'll always remember how we danced 

As 

Loves ship 

Sailed in

And anchored

But now

Cancelled and abandoned 

As you look in another's eyes

I can only hope

Your memories get baptised 

Like mine

In brutal storms 

Of introspection 

For in my eyes

There are never any real

Goodbyes 

Just sweet country songs

Of reintroduction 

So we can walk 

Together again

Even though 

We were both cursed

By wet appetites

Of self-destruction 

(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

If Covid Media was a Senryu

 

If Covid Media was a Senryu

 

(A lone voice whispers)

Citizens line up 

(5)

Like spellbound blinded cash cows 

(7)

Follow our orders

(5)

A senryu must be exactly 3 lines.

Like a Haiku, a senryu must follow the 5-7-5 format:

The first line must have 5 syllables.

The second line must have 7 syllables.

The third line must have 5 syllables.

A senryu focuses on humans and usually contains irony.

It usually focuses on human nature.

It is not written about nature or the seasons.

A senryu does not have to rhyme.

Excess death figures recently released are truly tragic. 

43,000 nursing home deaths attributed to false narratives and gaslighting of the public at the time. (UK) 

The link to vaccines and the ensuing theatre seems undeniable. 

But how can medical practitioners, doctors, nurses, etc. 

Keep administering them with a clear conscience, despite the huge data relating to life-changing injuries and sudden death?

Answer. 

Radix malorum est cupiditas

(Greed is the root of evils) 

Scrying Mirror Dreams

 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Today's transmission is a deeply melancholic, confessional piece of gothic romantic longing. 

It explores eternal love, haunting regret, spiritual connection, and the agonising aftermath of a broken relationship.

The narrative operates in an "astral" or spiritual realm, where the speaker—identifying as a "ghost" or an "astral envoy"—watches over a former lover who is grieving in the physical world.

Ultimately, "Scrying Mirror Dreams" is a declaration that true love is immortal. 

By refusing to say goodbye, the speaker elevates a failed earthly romance into a permanent celestial fixture, doomed to spin forever in the "seas of this black abyss."

Shall we begin? 

(A lone voice whispers)

I can subliminally feel 

All those sad fears

Rhythmically 

Swirling like sharpened kitchen knives

Within all my world, old choices

Which still cut me so deep

Like cold Tamahagane steel

Above all this new

Life's 

Now old noises

I can just see you 

Sitting there

In your darkened bedroom

Somewhere

Surrounded by your favourite red roses 

Dressed in that familiar soft white lace

With translucent tears

Running down 

Your beautiful face

Thinking of me

As a lone crone

In a faraway forest

In triumph 

Sings 

And rejoices

Overjoyed by her spells

Creating turmoil 

Through fake excuses and tragic surprises

In you

For

I know

It's not fair

What you're going through

But trust me

I'm going through it

Too

For 

This thing we once started

This inexplicable thing

This molten fire that still burns

 

Like it's taboo

Since we parted

Reaches so deep

Inside

I just can't sleep

Can't work

Can't recall

How many times

I've cried

Brokenhearted

For I remember

Those sweet salad days

Before our love

Died

And as we parted our ways

I always remember

Walking on the beach

With the girl next door

Who came to me

Unexpectedly

Like a serene gift 

From The Holy Sea

Gently fluttering by

To say hello

Like a rare, beautiful Glasswing Butterfly

But now

We are 

But two 

Lost souls

With nowhere to go

Just wandering around

In familiar round circles

And looking into 

This purple haze

The very mouth of this black abyss

I see

Before me

Looking at the mistakes

We once made

In my scrying mirror

As our tarot cards 

Were first laid

When we first kissed

While we walked

Its tired pavements

In its maze

I pray and hope you still

Think of me

The ghost

Who still loves his beautiful rare Glasswing butterfly

From the Realms

Of The

Great In-Between

Sent to love you

To remind you

You're so special

An astral envoy

Sent like a 

Spiritual Kestrel

To inspire others 

Especially those

That suffer in silence

So turn that Southern Country music 

Up high

To drown out your world's violence 

For a light like yours

Must shine

And it's why

This old ghost

Can never say goodbye

For our old love

Lives beyond

The seas of this black abyss

Forever 

Spinning

In my old memories

Of our

First poetic kiss

(C)

Copyright John Duffy

You do know you're a soldier at war, don't you?

 This transmission introduces Psychomachia. 

The battle for the human soul. 

It posits that life is not peaceful. 

Rather, every human is a "born soldier" in a nonstop conflict between divine purity and demonic temptation.

By the Devil's wedding rings. 

A powerful metaphor for sin. 

A wedding ring represents a permanent covenant, commitment, and submission. 

Putting on his ring implies a soul has willingly bound itself to evil in exchange for worldly status.

"The theatre of war is all that those wide eyes can see": 

This suggests that the physical world. 

Everything you experience through your senses. 

Is merely the backdrop for a much larger, invisible spiritual conflict.

"Friendships... relieve the madness."

A brief touch of humanism amid a stark spiritual lecture. 

It acknowledges that human connection is the only comfort available to soldiers enduring the brutality of earthly life.

The transmission follows a strict chronological arc.

Absolute purity before birth.

Exposure to worldly temptations during life, and final judgment at death.

Well, look around. 

Read the list of the Devil's wedding rings. 

Are you unconsciously wearing one? 

(A lone voice whispers) 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

You do know you're a soldier in a spiritual war?

A war you're born into.

A theatre of war called Psychomachia. 

The war of the soul. 

Let us begin.

Before you're born,

You're pure at heart.

Your soul is pure and white before life starts.

And then you're born into a new form.

And the war for your soul begins.

As the Devil tempts you with lascivious and mischievous delights to sin.

The theatre of war is all that those wide eyes can see.

Over land or under sea.

As you grow in that new form.

To be all you can be.

As any battle-hardened soldier will tell you.

War is brutal, filled with sadness, but the true friendships

Are what relieve the madness.

And that war, my friend, never ends until you breathe your last breath. 

At the end.

And then find which side you stand on.

For temptation is a powerful thing.

Such delicious things which whisper.

"They will make your soul sing."

But always pause and think.

For if you put on one of the Devil's wedding rings.

To live as a queen or king and all it brings.

Rings like:

Pride — placing oneself above others or above God.

Greed (Avarice) — an excessive desire for wealth or possessions.

Lust — disordered or excessive desire, especially sexual.

Envy — resentment of another’s blessings or success.

Gluttony — overindulgence, especially in food or drink.

Wrath (Anger) — uncontrolled rage or hatred.

Sloth (Acedia) — spiritual or moral laziness; neglect of one’s

You'll slowly forfeit the right.

To gain your angel wings.

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy 

Mistress of The Shadows

 

Are you a nurse?

 Blessed be. 

Well-bound. 

A transmission for all the wonderful nurses. 

Does hospitalisation and being under the care of a nurse or others?

Connected to improving or maintaining one's health. 

Leave a lasting impression due to feeling vulnerable at the time? 

A lasting encounter that will always linger? 

Let us begin. 

Her gentle, graceful touches are so beautiful and incredibly captivating. 

Soothing. 

They seem to play a delightful melody. 

To vanquish all my mortal fears. 

Like the rarest of heavenly sunsets. 

That emerges with a twinkling smile. 

In the midst of pink and red frontiers. 

When time itself. 

Appears to stop flexing and moving. 

Swirling like a god-like deity. 

In a newly lit sky. 

She is the quintessence of glamour. 

In a nighttime high society ball. 

Filled with dancing masked courting fireflies. 

Who watches her every fluid movement. 

In jaw-dropping awe. 

When they pause to rest. 

On one of my beautifully 

wallpapered walls. 

A rare evening.

Serenading the gathering of a few enamoured spirits.  

Where honoured souls.

Gather in their best dresses.

And bespoke suits to readily confess.

Her delicate hands.

Move like Mother Moon.

Gently over my trembling horizons.  

Whispering my secret name.

And claiming me as her. 

domain. 

For we are now consummate soul lovers. 

And no longer just worldly friends. 

A bright new world is always breathed into light. 

And lost in her delicious touches. 

In that spectacular twilight. 

For under the gaze of my devotion. 

I can only reflect her love of her professionalism.  

In my hazel-coloured lens.  

The darkness surrounding us. 

Like an old friend. 

Sings a lasting symphony. 

Of happiness and lingers in the celestial. 

As angels watch and smile. 

No man-made treaties. 

Or paper laws. 

Can separate us. 

For now. 

Our bond in the midnight sun. 

Soon will wildly run. 

We'll never lose this particular twilight. 

I hope. 

And these baptised rays will never lose their red and pink hue. 

For when we first met. 

I'll always remember. 

That I willingly sank knee-deep. 

Into your green and blue. 

For in that magical transference of spiritual energy. 

I knew in that metaphysical moment. 

Why God had sent me, and it's why now.  

I'll always belong. 

To just you.

(C) 

Copyright John Duffy