Doctor White

(A lone voice whispers) Are there many quiet times When you look above And are there are many crazy raucous times When you’re also forced to Look below Can you still feel tendrils of Old memories from your Hidden archives That cathedral you may now Call the Ghetto Château Where lost love or heartbreaks Resonate Vibrating in those very rooms You try to outgrow Are there still small moments and Infusions of tranquil bouts of welcomed insurrection Silent revolutions or tired times of forced rebellions On the surface Above Are you so seemingly filled with Love And sweet smiles and compassion A face you parade to the world watching But below Where the husky darkness Multiplies and you breathe it Deeply in As it flourishes and grows Do Invisible feelings of self-doubts Deep inner fears and invisible tears Call when you visit to endlessly fall Do you wonder Will they stay Will they go away All questions heralding from the smiling Mister Who Knows Who lives inside me Just having a silent conversation With you My secret hidden alter I call him Doctor White Dressed in his white coat And with his foolish stares I can still see him smiling everywhere. Especially when I drink Some wet kelter Like my soul's satisfying Mescaline I may seem calm and collected Above too But beneath that very shimmering Surface I fear being totally rejected But for now, I’ll still smile and play Empowered with the hope That the good memories Will stay this time I will no longer need To revisit my deep depths and Those old rooms I always seem to trespass through A place my soul Sometimes visits and all light Is bereft As Doctor White Visits Walking casually and smiling through All my precious light and dark Memories rivers Maybe tonight I’ll but stay firmly standing in those Filled with love and lights Standing steadfastly in the hope They will stay the night (C) Copyright John Duffy