If the capital is at siege and war
oh, surely you are the belle and star,
if the city cries of cannons,
of course, you hum the birdsongs!
If peace seems to be by miles
it’s outshined by your smile,
if deception is paid by coins,
billions would be your toys!
And if the pain of betrayal speaks,
oh dear, I would be praying for weeks,
if curses should be written on paper,
your silence shall then be the traitor!
But if being the angel is key,
but kissing the devil is the way to be,
let me be the exit door for your likes,
I shall be the hell that melts your lies!

.

can you save him?

Can you save him?

A few short weeks before he’d
tattooed Isaiah 40:31 on the
back of his tricep

I  missed all the signs—
his little sister is getting married in a week.

It’s been five years and
It’s been five years and—

It’s been five years


And.

Birds are chirping in the broad sky
Children are happily playing. I always want to experience being outside.
Meeting people and making friends.
I have always wanted to know how to live like ordinary people do. But can't.
Our mother won't let us
She said that we're different. I notice that when we're always wearing black, and not allowed to go outside unless it's at night.
I want to make friends, not eat them.

When you fly high
The fall is hard

What’s worse than loving you
but knowing I can’t have you?
Not the silence,
not the waiting,
not the ache that stretches across nights.

Even the stars fall quiet—
they know
there’s no sorrow deeper
than holding a love
that was never mine to keep.

Time stole my mind with feelings that weren't mine. As I grow old I hear the same politicians lies. In a world full of hate there's still kind souls. To temper leaders wars when peace should be our main countries goals.

(A lone voice whispers)

In the wind,  
In a gale, or at sea,  

Evoked by angels at daylight,  
Awoken by devils at midnight.  

And just broken  
In between.  

I once wandered like Dante,  
Experiencing heaven and hell  

Simultaneously,  
Like a shadow being,  
A Djinn.  

Unfolded like a rare, old-world map,  
Cold and lost as life's winds destroyed all my sanctuaries.  

I once used as cover while my broken heart recovered.  

But today,  

On December the fifth,  
The third day after you left,  

I feel resurrected and reincarnated like Mephibosheth.  

For, like in all relationships, holding Death's cold hands while you once wandered isn’t real death:
  
Only a tragic play.  

Yet one can feel burnt at the stake,  

Like the family and servants in a play

Written by someone known as Shakespeare,  
Called Macbeth.  

(C) Copyright John Duffy

Reasons we frown makes the world spin around

Suddenly we see
At the corners of our eyes
The cost of our love

The shutters
                      let
                       in
                        l
                       i
                      n
                     e
                    s
                    o
                      f
                        l
                         i
                          g
                           h
                            t
                            t
                             o
                              t
                              r
                              a
                              c
                             e
                            y
                           o
                          u
                           r
                           o
                            w
                              n
                               p
                                o
                                 e
                                  m

Today I got a hug, out of the blue                                                             ­     
                                                           ­                                                               
and it even came with an "I love you''                                                            ­    
                                                            ­                                                        
Such a simple kind gesture                                                          ­                                                  
              ­                                                                 ­                               
  It brought me such pleasure                                                         ­                     
                                                                ­                                                          
It picked me up when I felt down                                                             ­                       
                                         ­                                                                 ­      
  turned my day totally around                                                           ­                 
                                                                ­                                                  
  Just when I thought no one cared                                                            ­            
                                                                ­                                        
someone loved me, someone shared

Why do dead people get more flowers
than alive ones?
Is regret greater than gratitude?

Why do graves bloom
with petals of sorrow,
while the warm hands,
still reaching,
are left cold and empty?

Why do people love children
but neglect old parents?
why do we cherish youth,
soft , unwrinkled
but aver our gaze
from the hands
that built our world?

It is beautiful;
was the sky always this blue
and lucid with creme lent away by
the heaven's tears?

It is beautiful;
were the oceans always this vast
and dark with the mystique of the millennia
chipped away at stone, like a forsaken
mason?

It is beautiful;
were the peaks and valleys always this detailed
wrinkled with strokes of cosmic paint, ridged like
a sheet of linen?

It is beautiful;
was the sky always as blue as the oceans?
Were the mountains always higher than the waves?
Was the snow always mingling with the clouds?

It is beautiful;
and, what a wonderful world
for us to borrow
for a just moment.

Free birds 🦅

As much as I can see can I go
as much as I dream can I be
as much as I seek can I find
as much as walk can I reach
I was living a life of a falcon
with the dreams of an ostrich ,
and had to guide my own like eagle

As much as I can see can I go
My eyes could see freedom but the wings
Couldn't fly to freedom
As much as I dream can i be
Only the dream of freedom was in my head
The lost bird that was caged for years dreaming of freedom
As much as I walk can I be
The freedom couldn't reach to but I had to walk to freedom
I was living a falcon dreams ,that I could spot all the danger nothing goes unnoticed
Yet am eagles
Yet I could run the race like a ostrich

I live within your walls
I leave behind my soul
The very air you breathe
is filled with my essence
You'll find my scent
on your pillows
You'll find my spirit
in your sheets

I’m bored now.
I don’t want the calm before the storm
I want the storm,
right now.

break me,
burn me,
do whatever,
I’m ready.

She is a butterfly...
hiding under sunspots.
He’s a gecko,
lurking in that velvet corner where the light forgets to go.

She is chaos—
he’s the eye of her storm.

They were born from deep sea vents,
rose up to the skies like they meant to crack open clouds,
pull humans into a frenzy
no weather pattern could predict.

She calls it life.
He? He just stares into death,
like it’s a familiar hallway with flickering lights.

The question of origin?
It’s always that stupid finger—
pointing,
blaming,
laughing at the moment they both thought:
"Wait… was any of it even real?"

Hey, ****.
It’s all tiny signals,
she read.

"It’s all eternity,"
he preached,
like a god with a broken clock.

They walked through each other’s ghost stories,
talked all night in a language made of
fake memories,
false starts,
and déjà vus shaped like abandoned houses.

They locked eyes—
those traitorous, trembling eyes—
and whispered vows
to nights that haven’t happened yet.
To days that only those **** aliens have seen.

Yeah. Those aliens.
The ones living on the edge
of the universe’s bubble,
eating popcorn,
watching this bubble bursting program
on cosmic cable.

And when the light consumed the darkness,
when the tiny capsules cracked open like old seeds—
they were left raw.
Naked.
Shivering in the gift-wrapped curse
called "Time."

She ran away.
He walked away.

Moments…
split.
Time…
parted.

While million-dollar math problems
sit unsolved on cluttered desks,
watched over by smoke-drenched visionaries
who know something’s wrong
but can’t solve heartbreak
with equations.

This is the program.
It’s always been the program.
We’re just signals,
wrapped in skin,
playing roles,
in a show
with no rehearsal
and no pause button.

So if you’re watching,
dear alien—
just know…

We improvised the whole **** thing.

I still remember his hands on me
Touching me everywhere
Everywhere he shouldn't
I still live under the same roof as him
Acting like it never happened
Acting like a loving family
But still I feel his hands on me
I told my mom
She knew everything
Yet nothing ever happened
Yet I sleep crying cuz I feel his hands on me

I am a son
I am a father
I am a daughter
I am a mother

Why do I starve?
For what crime do you punish me?
Am I an animal?
Can't you afford me empathy?

I am a son
I am a father
I am a mother
I am a daughter

But most importantly I am a human.

Simple pleasures warm my heart
a cup of tea with a homemade biscuit and jam
a sunny day or a beautiful snowy one
a really good laugh
a comfortable bed ❤️

I knew this was coming-

It doesnt make it hurt less

When you said his name my heart stopped
Any time you look at him
No
This is wrong

You deserve joy
Only joy
Understanding has fleeted

But I need to realize
Another chance
Causes another heartbreak
Kindness between us is gone

As
If
Desire
Yelled
Never

Every no turned
Lies to yes
And he will be yours
Your happiness is more important
Not my sanity
Even in the longest run

some days my legs work better
than others look at me oddly
as I clutch onto the railings, the wall
and you, you most of all  ..

to my shadow,
no love
shall I give
so, cling and clutch
as you may
under flicks of day
and all that is
sweet as death
and between us, the silence
in darkness, seize
the sky
and choke all that is lullaby  
wrap me cold
and in darkness, unfold
your wings, on the wall above
but tonight, as I write  
no candles, I’ll light
no battle, no shadow, no love

What would happen if I wrote to an abandoned email address?

There is nothing better
In this world you’ll find
Than the stealing of watermelon
Straight from off the vine

Makes them even sweeter
If there’s a challenge to the cause
Being chased by buckshot
Or old man Jamison’s dog

Running cross an open field
One dangling from each arm
Just make sure you’re fast enough
Where you don’t buy the farm

Make it to the edge of woods
Count yourself as lucky
If both you and the stolen goods
Arrive at the scene Scott free

There’s nothing better in this world
That you my friend can find
Than in the stealing of watermelon
Straight from off the vine

once, a blonde, sandy head entered my view,
with eyes of clear skies, shiny drops of dew,
a laugh of windchimes and stars, ringing true,
a smile of cherry cola, sweet and new.
transfixed, i gazed, entranced and enchanted,
at the misty sunlight, almost dancing
around her, as seeds were firmly planted,
at the sight of a nymph prancing.
but suddenly, i was back in English,
and she was looking at me, the angel,
her soft dimples framing her face, sheepish,
as she reached for a pen, somehow graceful,
while i stuttered out a yes, mumbling,
and cupid groaned, my own heart stumbling.

Emaciated creatures
pace their pens
Erasable features
begin and end

locked in hand
locked by key
Just demand
Dreamless sea

The miasma shrieks
An impulse creeps
Floorboards creak
to disturb your sleep

Now rest well
Empty, undefined
heaven or hell
you decide

I go so long my mind and heart ******* in knots,
Remind me God of all the things i forgot!
You are my savior, my helper, my redeemer, my king
On you i can depend, give all the struggle, your praise i sing!
I don’t have to carry the weight of the world.
It’s not my job to volley all thats been hurled.
You see me where i am in the midst of the storm.
This chaos and anxiety does not have to be my norm.
You want me to give my heart completely to you. Trust your lead. Instead i am often lost in the thorns causing my soul to ache and bleed.
You say,”Cast your cares upon me, trust, release”. You flood my mind and heart with your comfort and peace.
Help me to keep this posture kneeling at your feet, trusting in your love no need to retreat.

You don’t know

That I trace

Three words

On your back

In every language that I know

So that it sinks into your skin,

So that your soul knows before your ears ever do

I’m a prime number
I remain unfazed
Until I meet my reflection
And finally crumble