Foundation.

In this modern world, has mankind forgotten judgment may await if one is religious?

Title.

The Priest talking on a Pulpit in The Great In-Between

(A regal voice whispers)


You do know
What you do and feel in public or secret

My child

Writes all your life's many hidden manuscripts

And follow's you like a Charles Dickens's

Jacob Marley
Character

Into and after the crypt

So do more good
Purge yourself.

Pull yourself away from the Great Tempter's black hole

Don't just sit and judge
Urge your soul

Or the goal could be

You
Stripped and whipped as you become

Just another
Of the Devils legion's

Of unloved conscripts

(C) Copyright John Duffy

(A lone voice whispers)



When your Corazón
Broke you in two

Like America
With the war on cotton

Did you become one of Corazón orphan's
Filled with precautions

Praying for another's heart
In the long run

As you weighed up newer options

(C) Copyright John Duffy



What does Corazón mean in English?

The heart.

Quite a deep supernatural piece.

Foundation.

Do ghosts lament about life and regrets?

From love, relationships etc, what would you regret if tonight, you woke up on the other side, and had only two minutes to speak?

Unfortunately, taking the two minutes out.

It could be the probable reality for millions, if you believe in a continuation, after this life.
Salute.

Title
Sheol Sorrow

(A lone voice whispers as an old black and white clock, starts ticking)

Now my life's great parties are all over and this Black Hole

I now live within
Ruled over by Father Sin

Which just loves to breathe me in and out

Like the silver flutes once did

When I used to walk by, and watch the marching Bands of Manhattan play

Walking past, wearing purple and blue coats

As the Majorettes twirled their shiny batons

Oh, what I wouldn't give in this loud sound of silence
  
To quieten this pain, that still hurts the most  

Even though, I'm now just another lonely ghost

My cherished memories of you will always be my Immortal Home, as I wait in here, to atone

I used to pray that I'd wake up free, from this asylum

In the warm arms of my beloved, but now lost, Angel

But no matter how hard the memories, or even how painful

I'll keep them as a happy place, filled with all her love and photographs

So, I just wait here

In a hidden place found on no handwritten, or drawn road maps

Somewhere with the ever watchful Great Intermediary

As I flutter my white flag of defeat

In the cold and hot heat of, The Great In-Between

In the wet lands
Beyond the Akashic Records

Lingering by these bright lights, like I was walking on the Moon

Kicking up broken white stones

Singing sad songs for the hordes

Standing in groups in the creepy shadows

Watching me crying like a wounded King

Come Back,
Don't fear, you won't fall

They all chant as the Golden Bell rings

The Crying Game needs feeding

The eleven-inch nails, needed pulling out, to stop the bleeding

Stay with us
The Nameless Things

We, who whisper and sing in the Dark, all around you

But all by myself
I'll try to stay alive
Somehow

They can keep their Poison and Red Wine

Their Civil Wars
Where even gravity falls

Either way,
Here is my lone call

You'll always be my reason
My every time
No matter the seasons

For all my rivers of memories and worn-out roads

My heavy head and weary heart

Always lead me
Riding in paper boats

Back to you
In this mad, mad world

Even though now everything has fallen apart

Completely like us two

Just another pair of Father Times, many heartbroken sweethearts

(Ticking clock stops)

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

(A mystic whispers)

Through this scrying mirror

Be it by
Eyes, Touch, Paper, or Phone

Let my power
Melt your heart of stone

Through
Wind, fire, wave, and sea

I see you
Are you ready to atone

Can you feel me
Rolling in

Like green moss
Creeping across
Warm wet skin

So you can absorb me
More

To open wide
All your mind's closed doors

To let me in
So long nights
Can begin

With Earth warmed
By new shadows
Borne

Open up so I can linger within
Until dawn

Willing heat to rise up
Like young pawns

Called to fight
In Winter's War of Emotions

So prepare well

Summer Solstice is coming soon
On the 21st of June

A rebirth
A time of new beginnings and spells

With me and you
Engaging in deep breathing

In hot bedrooms,
Wallpapered in sinning and yells

Where old feelings flee
With the ringing of our libidos bells

To be swept away

By sweet cries of a new renaissance that will never stop

And be replaced by new psyops

As all your resistance
Drops

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

(A lone voice whispers)

Will you do more to avoid an eternally broken heart?

Do you need a proclamation of truth, which one can pursue, to define your life?

Well, if so,
Here's one whispered in a deep dream

Just for you

In the end
To have loved true

Purely and transformationally

With kindness and compassion

When you stand before the God of your religion

Before you transcend

You'll be judged worthy, and your happiness will extend, beyond that final meeting

With whom, or whatever you follow, at your world's end

For good souls like you,
if you do, are never condemned

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

(A lone voice writes)

Some whisper and will
In secret occult circles

About these sad days of 2025

That Humanity will fall into unruly petulant desire

Consumed and devoured by a blazing war lit infectious fire

But what happens to you and me?

Your mind and mine

Do you still shiver inwardly at the vibrational thoughts of my words

Do they bind you
Submissively
To always return

Doomed forever
To hovering above my prose
That screams to be heard

With wide eager eyes

Like a love-struck
Hummingbird

Do you still tremble like when we first met

On the fly
On the internet

Wanting the warm caress of loquacious re-introductions
Of new verbs

Opening mystical
Golden gates to new poetic realms

And their guile to bind us together

Like love-struck Siamese twins

Creating welcomed sins
Of dried sweat and sweet tributaries

Of deep-seated spiritual yearnings

That makes your mind so **** wet

Tales of the supernatural
Light and darkness

Filled with rapid movement or profound stillness

Sovereignty or deep-seated loneliness

New flames of innermost desires
Contained in unspeakable words or unfamiliar names

As our Zisurru

Poetic stories to be set asunder
In the rising footfalls of Zeus's approaching apocalyptic thunder

To burn new hurricane lanterns in the deep wells of Imaginations darkened

Halls of Fame

To live in the hope
Of a new life

An everlasting dance filled with literary romance

With a drop of a wild transmigration

As our new Nexus
To savor in your mouth

Like an intense-tasting holy communion wine

A strong touch of such wantonness

Your
Voracious soul needs

To carry to all empires
You may visit

In the North
East
West or South

As it swallows new stories with such ravenous greed

Will we survive
Still together at the end of 2025?

With such
Intellectual thoughts

You might still whisper and silently ask

You and me

Does
Will it last?

Echo in your Dream Chambers whilst waiting

For that midnight call on New Year's Eve

When we sing pagan songs of King Solomon to each other

As we fight back the encroaching darkness

With shining drunk Astral Eyes as our Athame

Our sacrificial knife
Inwardly praying to then always shout

Yes, in us,
I'll always believe

Under the sharp eyes of the Winter's Midnight Sun

Which for so many lost souls
We know, she will still shine ever brighter.

As she quietly watches and grieves

As they collect their new or old angel or devil wings
As they quietly leave

Who knows, my child

Everlasting Hope and Peace could arrive as one

So we could conquer this new normal and continue to rise

Or it could all go wild

And turn into a new dark nuclear history

Where dreams and people
Are consumed and defiled

As good and evil
Battle for victory

And apart, we may have to survive
On mean streets.

As quantum tattooed vaccinated slaves or unvaccinated exiles

In a New World Order
Called a Fool's Paradise
Without Any Known Borders

But either way,
Know this

May your spirit guides lead you to continued health and safety

Across all fast-flowing political wars

Water's
Famine or disorders

So in 2026

We can still share our much loved algorithms
In all our holy quarters

So mote be it
What will be
Will be

So mote be it



(C)
Copyright John Duffy

(A lone Irish voice whispers into the night, as a single white candle burns. Looking at a picture of a beautiful woman)

With time-worn

But stubborn like a six-inch
Jerusalem thorn

Dreaming
Forlorn
Tonight

Of Halcyon Nights
With you, my love

When memories waterwheels slowly turn,
And midnight candles burn

As my inner film projectors play

I also remember our beloved Halcyon Days, at the coast

Spent walking and laughing
Before God moved our goal posts

So tonight, I'm praying and yearning for moments

Only The Tuatha de Danann can invoke

Pulling back
My true love

Before I choke
To help me cope

From Hades
Swirling
Grey smoke

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

The Tuatha Dé Danann are described as a supernatural race, much like idealized humans, who are immune from ageing and sickness, and who have powers of magic.
Source; Wikipedia.