(A lone voice whispers)

If only we had understood the justifications

I wouldn't be composing these stanzas here in old Jerusalem

If only we had realized all those painful tragic answers to come

We would have stopped them from happening

And took no chances at the very beginning

If only we knew this day filled with darkness would be returning

We would have tried to stop it before our hearts started burning

But we never saw it coming and never disputed your stories saying so

Of which there was plenty

We believed we were to be together forever

To walk hand in hand in all weathers

We never felt deserted, even though it felt you were always away

Praying or preaching

But in the process of living
Our hearts gave up and cried

When nailed on that wooden cross before us

All the hopes of forgiveness and absolution

Just looked us in the eyes
Smiled

Stopped breathing and quietly died

As we placed you in the tomb with Joseph and rolled forth that heavy stone

It felt to some as though we'd never met

As they wept

But to us, who really knew you

Our hearts could never forget

And as I watched some cry and express hate for our Lord's fate

I, too, despised what I'd become

I wished I'd found more time to be with you

To learn more

All sad tokens of introspection as I laid you in that tomb

I thought like many others

You were taken from us and sent so far away

But the rumors circulating say you've risen

Oh, how happy we all are that you've escaped death's cold prison

We all remembered when you said you wouldn't leave

That if in me, you do believe

And if we didn't

What would this world be like

If you wouldn't in our hearts still be living

Well, that's now all in the past as we gather here on this beautiful Sunday

To pray in these moments for the forgiveness of all our earthly sins

In this hidden backroom here in Jerusalem

To fall in love with Faith once more

Now you've risen from the tomb

A dark place where we left you a few days ago

To lay all alone

We can only pray the world of the future see the truth

For to truly believe, you don't need any proof

For faith is a delicate thing

Don't just look for it in well-written books or scripture

Don't look for it at night or during the day

Don't let it weep and recede or wither and just walk away

Just believe in something greater

It's how he'll find you and reintroduce you to your maker

For as Nicodemus was once asked.

“How can a man be born when he is old?”

“Surely, he cannot enter a second time into his mother's womb to be born!”

You answered,

“I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit.

Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit.”

So to all you readers who may read this in the near future

Just listen for the Almighty's great voice and with faith in something greater

You'll know in your heart it's him

If you're just open to hearing it

After praying and then whispering

Amen

(C) Copyright John Duffy

(A lone voice whispers)

Did no one tell you that true
Magic exists

Just hidden somewhere deep
In most societies

Sought after by convicts of the mundane

Profane addicts, who cry out in the mists

Whenever they're asleep
In pain

Some crying out for redemption or anything linked to temptation

But still, it subsists in so many obscure places

And upon so many new or old altars, does it reside

For when it comes out to tempt the eyes of the juggernaut

Known as The Great Metatron

To look

One of the most powerful archangels, and interdimensional scribes

To the Book of Life

It causes so many other emotions, to like atoms collide

In the deep-minds behind inquisitive eyes and faces

From all gender and races

As imagery
Emotions and engagement runs wide

For the Philosophers Stone
The Great Secret
Is simply this

There's an old piece of magic in us
All

But sometimes, it only chooses to come out in those it made to speak

After a mighty fall

Maybe like you
Too

A new poet who once heard the nightly call

And now speaks a sacred hidden language, that summons the craft of

Reconceptualizing the enchantment of the human experience

Through an incredible naming magical act

Breathing
Molding and weaving
Words into life

Like a pagan mage giving shape to energy

A molten flux to entertain the curious ones

Of any age

That needs something magical written in verse

As they turn one of your spiritual pages

To help save them from their own form of self-destruction

And maybe anything that still hurts

Before their last ride home
In Old Nicks black hearse

As you serve your new masters and mistress's

Of the magical vibrations known as, Poetry

By sharing your magic as it pleads to be dispersed

(C) Copyright John Duffy

(A lone voice whispers)

Is Love
Like ethereal raindrops

Tumbling from a hot
Unseen spiritual sky
When you least expect it

Does it
Reveal itself

When
Two kingdoms suddenly
Clash and collide

Mundane worlds
Imploding and
Unravelling

Given birth
Beneath
Infinite clouds of clandestine

Assignations

Can
Our happiness
Smiles and lamentations

Sometimes
Drown
Swept up

Within its dark seas of
Astounding
Revelations

But do we crave
Love to still
Get wet

To bathe
Within its
Stimulating waters

Of repudiation
Or Salvation

All the while

Embracing
Its rough spiritual fingers
Of life-changing

Rehabilitation
To heal our old ways

And to help us find a way to forget painful memories

As our soft cheeks
Get wet

Through our second Resurrection

Our first being birthed
Here on Earth

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Foundation.

Do you believe in astral projection?

Title:

The Ayahuasca Warrior

(A lone voice whispers)

Into the Mythical UnderMouth
Known as The Dark Abyss

I went
Swirling like a lost Autumn leaf

In strange winds
Heaven sent

Merging like a well-drilled soldier

Into the fine lines
Of the Universe’s timeless dust

I travelled up high
Into the higher kingdoms of The Astral Realms

To mysterious crossroads of The Undreamt

Then to unvisited corners never seen before by others

Into another dimension of Time and Space

Colliding into other faceless atoms

Of golden rusty dust

Where one whispered

She would be my mother
In another life

She would nurture and get me ready for my future wife

Then that special atom flowed on

Farther still I travelled

Crashing still into other atoms as they too
Came along

Some confessed they would be my father

Sisters and brothers

But what pinned me and held me transfixed the most

Was that golden moment

Lost among that purple and hue

When a shimmering colourful cloud whispered

Before it too passed by
Like an unearthly ghost

I will be sent forward
Just for you

Forever to be your only true lover

My name is irrelevant for we will be reunited

Over the aeons
Again and again

For we are translucent beings of immortality

And in that moment of magical clarity

I knew I had found all the answers

To all my questions as she too drifted by

Flickering like a wind-blown flame

Towards a glowing light, I could not name

We are but pawns in the Greatest of all Games

But given a supreme supporting cast

Which acts as our deposit or bond

To help love and guide us
Whilst alive

And running around in its many diverse classes

For as long as the Greatest of all Games
Lasts

And then into
The Great Beyond

Flickering like a wind-blown flame

Towards a glowing light, I could not name

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Image shared from Pinterest under fair usage policy.

Astral travelling, also known as astral projection, is a spiritual practice and esoteric concept involving the belief that consciousness can detach from the physical body and travel to different planes of reality.
Source: Wikipedia.

(A lone voice whispers)

Do you believe in the laws of manifestation

When I started writing poetry

I visualised being the best version of:

John Duffy Poet
I could be

So
Look up
John Duffy Poet

On your search engine
Of choice

Will you be surprised if I'm the first name you'll see?

The question is:

Did I manifest a top ranking via Poemhunter

Or do people like you, still like and explore poetry, and use it as your own regular form

Of self-psychiatry?

And sometimes enjoy
sitting under my supernatural vocabulary tree

And reading these strands and whispers

I conjure out of The Great In-Between

And label them as my version of inspired
Poetry

(C) Copyright John Duffy

Foundation.

Mixing Old English within the 21st Century.

Titul:

Sċēaweres

(An all ana voice hwisprian's)


For although our pæþe
Are divided by Wyrd

By The Grēat In-Betweonum
Also viewed as Destiny or Fate

By our Andsaca's

Enemies
Vultures and lions
Which Scyttan

Hydan
In The Great Ether

Restless
Unseen
And with great Hungor

Ravenous

Just outside our Godcundlic Gates

Ours is a sacred Trēowa

One
No fowl creatures knoweth

And which the vultures, lions and ravenous creatures: filled with Æfestiġ

And second eyes
Grene
Hath seen

But we will be Siġefæst

So
"Hál wes þú or wes hál"

(C) Copyright John Duffy

Old English andgiet:
Meanings:

Sċēaweres
Watchers.

All ana
Unaccompanied.

Hwisprian
Whisper.

pæþe
Paths.

Andsaca
Enemy, adversary.

Scyttan:
"To hunt," this word could be used if the "prowling" is specifically in search of prey.

Hydan
Meant to conceal.

Hungor
Hunger.

Godcundlic.
Spiritual.

Trēowa
Faith, pledge, agreement.

Grene
Green.

Æfestiġ
Jealous or envious.

Hath
Have.

Siġefæst
Victorious.

Hál wes þú or wes hál

Be in good health' or 'be fortunate'.



(Now read again, now you understand. Especially the ending)

Foundation.

With uncertainty flowing like a molten volcano around the world, and online.

Is it within dark times like these, we should try to bring more light into the world?

Title:

A voice in the dark whispers

Lookup
Not down

And be drawn
Into spiritual degradation

Or dark temptations
Linked to politics or the flesh
By the Red Dragon

But to blue clouds
Filled with sacred tetragons

With belief in whatever you know as good, be held
In-Depth

For the son of Cronus and Rhea

Brother of Zeus and Poseidon
Grows ever near

To welcome you into his waterless Barren Lands

Delighting in unimaginable fear

So be
Precipitous

And look up to
Defeat the rolling Abyss
Ruled by Hades

Hidden
Within
Its mists

Espouse goodness
While you still
Live

Like a sweet Valentine's Day kiss

And try to avoid
The Void

Filled with those
Who now pay a hefty
Price

But enter into new lands of Spiritual Paradise

With your selfless acts
Of kindness and self-sacrifice

Will you try to do good?

Or will you follow those who will suffer bitterness, when a star called, Wormwood,
Falls?

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

(A lone voice whispers)

Do you believe in absorbing esoteric supernatural impressions

To clear your pathways
Of all mental or traumatic depression's

To then walk down life's  metaphysical runways

Like a young Gabrielle Bonheur Chanel or an inspired

Paul Poiret

If so
Because I believe
In you

Always be optimistic and open to being positive when exploring newer experiences

For true belief
Lies in the right mindset in all you do

To transform your soul into your best version of a sage or mystic

Allowing you to chase stars and wild Middle Earth dreams

To bind old mistakes and fears
To white metaphorical feathers

To throw them into the healing fires within your mind

For their old powers over you

In the unconscious rising smoke retire

As you learn which new bridges to cross

And which old bridges to burn

For sacred self-knowledge and empowerment is ubiquitous

A chimera

A conjunction of wild beasts
Roaming wild

Living life through
Eight letters called Salvation

Which to the child of the Revived

Like you
Cannot never ever be denied

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Do you see past your reality tunnels

Your every day to day
Safe plays

As your Geiger Counters
Ticks left to right
As it slowly sways

Do you see the struggles
Of life's many broken runners

In dire trouble
At home or worldwide

Do you see the villains with the ***** bruised knuckles

On television preaching or in real time

Standing in someone else's home

Their back garden
Their jungle
As the world just watches

Engaging in endless bellicose discussions

Will you only take note
When one of the world's elected great hunters

Pushes the red nuclear button

So I summon the power of the Four Elemental Gods

Earth, Air, Fire, and Water
To wake you up

Before that Old Fallen Power
Grows so much stronger

That hope will no longer matter, as it will shatter

Stopping one climbing Jacob's Ladder

The bridge one seeks at birth
Between Heaven and Earth

So be it

What will be
Will be


(C) Copyright John Duffy

.

(A lone voice whispers)

Every clock in here
Even these old white wooden ones

As they tick so regimentally
Reminds me of you

Every single second
Every single minute

Carries luminescent memories

Of all the wild but lovely things
We used to do together

As they suddenly manifest
Like a magician's trick

Of pulling a red rose
Right out of the blue

And if my broken heart could beat

It would carry loud drum beats of revelations
So true

I would die once more
In palpable bliss

If I could write a parable
It would only be

I yearned once for a touch of your silky skin

And a taste of your red lipstick

Within one welcoming kiss

But got distracted
By the sweet voice

In the darkness
That strives

All good things to
Underpin

And now
In The Great In-Between

My parable
If deciphered by an Illuminated One would read

If love is offered
Freely and
Willing without sin

Or greed

Clasp
Hold and treasure it

And it's why now these sparkling twinkling lights

My reflections of you

Shine so bright in this ever-hot interdimensional dust

From dawn to dusk
Showcasing your image

To the empty husks
Of the Ascended Ones

Night and day
That litter
The Lord's Way

Come what may

So while these Baylore energies

Magnify my thoughts into these words

Like a soft fingertip across your warm spine

I'll see you soon
Skyclad in blue

In your deepest of dreams

Wide-eyed
Mighty and cancer free

We'll be reunited once more
But not like Orpheus and Eurydice

To be snatched away by a lack of trust

But forever
And that's why
My love

I still see your reflection
In these embers
In this everlasting dust

In every single second
And every single minute

As these tired wooden clocks tick

From dawn to dusk
As the empty husks
Of the Ascended Ones

Watch

Night and day
That litter

The Lord's Way

(C)
Copyright John Duffy