. Poetry from The Great In-Between

Friday, October 23, 2026

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




When AI reads your blog

 

"Poetry from The Great In-Between" by John Duffy is a prolific, deeply spiritual, and gothic-leaning poetry blog that serves as an ongoing exploration of grief, the afterlife, mental anguish, and theological warfare. 


The blog exhibits a massive archive spanning several years, with a major surge in output in late 2026, averaging over 100 entries per month.


An analysis of the core thematic elements, stylistic choices, and structural patterns present in the texts reveals several key traits:

1. Primary Thematic Pillars

The "Great In-Between" and Afterlife Geometry: The author frequently sets his narratives in a purgatorial space referred to as "The Great In-Between," "The Rift," or a "Silver City." 


He regularly depicts thresholds between life and death, detailing interactions with deceased lovers (e.g., Lucinda, Samantha) and hospice settings.


Grief and Self-Imprisonment: 


Rituals of coping with intense loss—such as burning white candles, keeping physical shrines, or tying white ribbons—are recurring motifs. 


In poems like Penitentiary Dreams, emotional despair is personified as literal imprisonment inside "Desolation Row."

Theological & Mythological Syncretism: 

The writer blends Christian concepts (The Trinity, "The Bait of Satan", Sheol, Apollyon) with Greco-Roman mythology (Aphrodite, Calliope, Elysian) and classic occultism/demonology (Mephistopheles).


Personification of Psychological Suffering: 


Mental struggles like anxiety, depression, and self-deprecation are given physical or supernatural agency. For instance, 


Have you experienced Dolor frames sadness ("Dolor") as an archaic supernatural entity carrying "invisible suitcases" meant to burden the sufferer.


2. Stylistic and Structural Frameworks

The "Transmission" Format: 


Duffy frames several of his poetic entries with introductory prose rationales. 


He explicitly defines them as "transmissions" exploring specific concepts (e.g., "This transmission exploration centres on the tension between profound love...").

Vocal Stage Directions: 


Many poems open with structural parentheticals like (A lone voice whispers), [Male voice], or [Female voice], suggesting that the work is intended to be read aloud, performed, or consumed as an audio-visual script.

Pacing and Form: 


The poems use highly irregular line lengths, favouring free verse with sporadic, internal, and end-rhymes rather than rigid metric constraints. Line breaks are deployed abruptly to isolate key emotional words or specific nouns.

3. Key Recurring Imagery

Colour Symbolism: 


Heavy reliance on white and gold to signify purity, divinity, and peace contrasted sharply against red and grey to represent earthly pain, corruption, and decay.


Liturgical Phrases: 


The frequent usage of "Blessed be" and "Velumbound" acts as an ongoing structural signpost or signature across almost every entry.

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 

Have you experienced Dolor


 

Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 


Have you ever experienced Dolor? 


In whatever supernatural form it chooses to suddenly appear in 


At any given time or place


Like a shapeshifting dark, swirling configuration of self-deprecation 


Announcing the possible visitations of its kin 


Linked to many forms of sin


Through the emotional 

Physically or spiritually 


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


When it first enters your skin


Did it affect the way you found new roads 


Or instead 


Did it whisper to choose lonely highways to navigate your life


To live in the shadows

Like one of the lost tribe of Alos


Has Dolor presented you with one of its exquisitely made


Leather-bound red invisible suitcases   


Like it once did me


Leather-bound invisible suitcases   


To be carried everywhere like priceless jewels


On tired shoulders


Containing handwritten soul 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 to renew 


Always to be the lost one walking alone in the rain


As pledges once written in silence


Prevents one from embracing your secret God-given name 


To empower us to pull through


Dolor's archaic supernatural form can take any strange irregular shape


And in secret circles is classified as one of the 4 deadly Obstructers


Which can keep you invariably on the run


As it guides all your emotions 


The Physical or spiritual 

like a Machiavellian orchestral conductor 


From which it can transpire; there is no escape


Under the dire threat of the Sword of Antipathy


As it seduces you perpetually and becomes your only lover


Did you know Dolor is simply Fear translated into Latin


So tonight's question is


Will you find the strength and courage to throw its gifts of free suitcases 


If you've recently seen it face


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


Come steamrolling in


To break up its intricately laid foundation stones


With which it builds itself up from 


When it first enters your skin


Copyright John Duffy


Have you read Penitentiary Dreams


 Blessed be.

Velumbound. 



I give you, Penitentiary Dreams


(A lone voice whispers)



I still miss your bright white smile


My living, breathing Calliope


Every night 

Like I miss our first kiss at the fairground 


On that old Merry-go-round 


For they always appear as bright beams of luminous glorious lights


Shooting from the deep depths

Of a faraway Heaven


Your warmth and guile

Satisfying my manifestation of love


Given birth of creation 

Once by the Mighty Creator

Here on Earth


A glowing towering beacon to help push back 


The hordes called Legion

Prowling like hyenas


In the darkness

Around me


For you were

And always will be 

My daily taste of gladness


A philosopher who too has seen and tasted 


The wild beast wine 

Of anxiety and madness


So now I call out to you from this wild wood


Where my prison is as I am stood 


This wild forsaken place where loveless things 


In the dark shadows slither and crawl

Tormenting us all 


As we all bang tin cups on our prison walls


Stalking memories alone in uneven lines

Like a lone feral grey wolf pines


Throughout this paranormal neighbourhood 


For with you died

Like so many in here who cry


My spark of life


My ecstatic joyful Sun

My bringer of serenity and jest


So in here in my southwest cobwebbed-filled hut


As other prison cells in Desolation Row


Ring out

Like thunder


In a rising crescendo of shrieks of pain and anguish


As we all 

Self-punish

Walking the Green Mile down Memory Road


Remember me before the last harvest

Before you get old


So I can be paroled


Light a white candle 

In your mind's eyes


See our first kiss with love at that fairground 


Sat on that Merry-go-round

 

Beneath that undulating red ocean of pain


Crashing like endless Pacific tides 

Maybe again and again


So that I may still live

If only for a moment


For what I wouldn't give

Now


To breathe once more

To open and walk through

That old marital front door


If only for one hour


But as these loud voices  

Surrounding me get louder

And grow in power


As tin prison cups

Relentlessly bang

Like dark country drums


Hour by hour


With sounds like exploding gunpowder on black bars of illusion 


As I look out for you

From my window

In my cave


My penitentiary 

Here in my own watchtower


For 

My thousand-named queen


My rare

Middlemist Red flower


This broken piece of your soul awaits


To be reunited 

To bring peace


When your presence in The Great In-Between

Opens his cell door


As if by magic 

So he can 

Scream no more


But walk home

Into the bright lights


With the only love 

He adores


Both striding 

Powerfully 

Hand in hand


To enter into

Evermore 


To be refined like silver


Escaping 

The Last Great Reaping and Rapture


Of the Prince 

Who is to come


To build Dissolution

Row everywhere 

For all he captures


Remember me

Your Luca 


Your number 1


(C)

Copyright John Duffy



Seduction


 Blessed be. 

Velumbound. 


This is a direct reference to the well-known 1994 Christian book by John Bevere. 


In theology, "the bait of Satan" refers to offense and temptation—the spiritual traps or "lures" that captivate people and lead them into captivity or moral ruin. 


By comparing her "tricks" to this book, the transmission frames her allure not just as a physical attraction, but as a dangerous spiritual trap.

(A lone voice whispers)


The girl with the dark eyes


Her glinting eyes gleam with something so mysterious


Indiana Jones

Would be so damn curious 


For they emanate a magnetic energy

That soothes and radiates


Her deep country looks make single and married men salivate


Oh, how men rejoice 

When trapped with her tricks 


Like those used 

In The Bait of Satan 


(C) 

Copyright John Duffy 


Do you sometimes remember someone special?

 



Memories of Lucinda 


(A lone voice whispers)


There's a hidden secret room I go to 

In my cathedral of dreams


Whenever I sleep


Where a white candle burns

In The Great In-Between 


As Yesterday lives wild 

Fed on memories and crawls on my broken walls


While favourite ones stand up tall


And in amongst the grey clutches of Yesterday 


There in the middle

Amongst the cobwebs and ivy


The weeds and bits of creeping moss


Is my old shrine 

To all I've once lost


A long time ago 

As white as snow

But now grey


It shines and gleams

As Yesterday 

Crawls up the walls


Like a banshee 

Wearing a black shawl


In its centre

Made of now dull silver

On its table


Is a black and white picture left by Yesterday 


For me to remember

My only love 


Lost in December 


And as I pause

And Yesterday 


Feeding on memories 

Stops climbing the walls


I hear her sweet husky voice over the top of my beating heart


It breaches the weed-filled nooks and crannies


Cools my fast-flowing bloodstream 

       

Then in that moment, climbing through the atoms of that sparse air


Comes her perfume drifting 

From somewhere 

 

A much-loved fragrance from the past


Filled with sweet moments as I remember and prayed would last


Then Yesterday moves 

And the scent is gone


The voice disappears


And in that room of no living creature 


Where I sometimes appear

To remember 


Yesterday's memories 

Which I hold dear


That white candle burns

Brighter each year


On the 28 of December 

When I return to remember 


My beloved Lucinda 

Who I lost


One fatal day in winter


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 



Channelling Saint Nick


 

All I've ever wanted  

All my life  

Is to feel truly alive


Someone to love me

From early morning

To way past midnight


After a white winter

Christmas 

Sunrise


But like all things

Which shimmer

Evocatively


Like much converted

Gold


It's a dream

I still hold onto

Even now


As I grow

Slowly old


Where are you

Wherever you be


Will you ever find me


Before I cross over

God's golden countries

And swim in its purple

Seas


After my last Christmas Eve 


I once dreamed

An emancipated dream


Dreamed I'll be happy

To parade

For all to see



I was never young

But born

So very old


I've lived a lifetime

Out in the winter cold 


Where my memories

And poetic stories

Will be continuously retold


But it's a lonely

Life as I hear


The hooves of the

Track Master approaching


Who haunts all things

Which currently dances

To life's slow grooves


But I'm indomitable


And will face these last

Few centuries filled

With such grace


And when I see

The Almighty


I'll ask him face to face.

And say


Where was my

One and only


The one to hold

Me tightly

And kiss away


All those

Tears


Wherever I was

Sad and so lonely


On that cold sleigh 

Delivering presents on Christmas Day


(C)

Copyright John Duffy 

Warning