New confessions have come to light,
let’s leave our sins on the dance floor.
Now’s the time for a crisp encore,
we’ll push aside feeling contrite.
Walk the line keep every groove tight,
the divine path you can’t ignore.
New confessions,
make the Devil pray and take flight.
Caught in a relapse once before,
wound up all but out of favor.
A heart pumping will make room for
new confessions.
The sky unzips its heavy coat,
And lets the hidden whispers
float.
A thousand secrets, locked in
gray,
Are spilling down to earth
today.
They pelt the roofs and slick
the street,
Confessions pooling at our
feet.
The thunder speaks in
rumbling tones,
Of ancient sins and buried
bones.
Each raindrop is a story told,
Of promises the wind
couldn't hold.
The dirt drinks up the liquid
lore,
And begs the heavy clouds
for more.
By dawn, the storm begins to
fade,
The sky forgets the vows it
made.
But every leaf and blade of
grass,
Now knows the truths that
came to pass.
Our fridge is quite the crazy scene
in hopes my girl will eat.
Miss Judy brings juiced tangerines;
a glass is such a treat!
My girl is not a fan, it seems,
of watermelon-lime,
but as for me, I’ve high esteem:
so nuanced and sublime!
Our freezer’s stocked with sorbets now,
hope it’s not untoward,
but secretly, there’s one or two
I hope my girl abhors.
I wish to undig,
The remains of my buried whispers,
The lingering murmurs,
The gigantic word clusters
The betrayal of my tongue,
stirring hearts with unseen quivers.
Begging for a voice of their own,
Seasons have passed over their tombs.
Yet every grave I open is torn,
Cradling a lifeless confession
As though I'm asking something dead
To be once more reborn.
In sunlight,
I thrive,
In sunlight;
Secret Confessions
(A lone voice whispers)
You're my book of revelations
Every page, a divine creation
My alpha and my omega
My rebirth through every weather
You’re the rhythm in my heartbeat
Soft and sacred when you hold me
Life and death inside your eyes
Heaven wrapped in your sighs
And if you walk away from me…
Oh girl, what would I be?
If your faith in me is gone…
Tell me how do I go on?
You’re my hope… and my joy
My night… and my day
Don’t you ever drift away
You’re my light… when I’m lost
The only truth I can’t deny
Girl, you’re my reason why
Oh stay… stay… don’t fade away
You’re the song my soul can’t destroy
My hope… my joy…
If you leave, I’d be in shadows
Dancing with my broken echoes
Every prayer would sound your name
Every tear would fall the same
You’re the fire in my silence
The calm within my storm of violence
Only you have ever known
The child inside I’ve never shown
So if in me you don’t believe…
Girl, that’s all I’d ever need
To fall apart, to lose my way…
Don’t let our love just fade to grey…
(C) Copyright John Duffy
I am a mad poet that talks to a celestial lover,
That runs towards the sun while I run towards you,
But from time to time, even she stops to watch my endeavor,
To see if between us will bloom something new.
It didn’t, it doesn’t and it won’t.
And now, I wish I knew how to quit you,
I wish I didn’t see myself in the gray, despairing moon,
That towards the sun she walks and walks anew,
But won’t reach soon.
So here I am, on a starless night,
Where only the moon is witness to my doom,
As in fields of sorrow I throw myself into,
Thinking of only you.
And I talk to her about you,
I tell her every bit of reminiscence I have on us,
Why?
For even when I’ll be gone, the world shouldn't stop talking about you,
Since a mortal life is too short to keep the memory of you alive.
Wine, the crimson mirror, holds the mind.
Thoughts unravel, pretense bends, secrets spill.
Each sip a key, logic flows, honesty speaks.
The hidden why, intentions bare,
No mask can stay, no lie can thrive.
Wine, a beast, a silent mocker,
Holds the heart yet lets it whisper.
Lovers speak what words forbid,
Unspoken feelings tremble, soft and vivid.
Its fiery burn ignites courage,
Its swirl unlocks trust,
Its depth reveals the soul’s quiet fires.
Oak and vine, history whispers, reason shines.
Scholars and kings, poets and fools,
All find clarity in its ruby pools.
A toast to truths unspoken,
To hearts unguarded, words unbroken.
Wine does not lie, cannot cheat,
It pulls the soul, makes judgment meet.
In its light, reality breathes, and wine just giggles at our foolishness.
What if I write you an 8 page sonnet
And when I see you
We talk about the weather
The burdens of bureaucracy, and the colors of fall
You love the orange and I love that the piles of leaves are pillows of the living dead that I plow into
And puddles are piles of recycled tears that I cry into
But I’ll say I love orange
Because neither boys nor teachers like running sentences
Confessions of a broken heart.
In the quit of the dark
The stillness the running of thoughts
The struggle to find clarity
In an environment built upon disparity
Rumors lies dishonorable acts
Fill the mind like panic attacks
At a crossroads a mental impass
Emotionally still attached
Direction to go is at a lack
Physically feel completely detached
As if in mourning someone who hasn't even passed
Hope remains for a second chance
For a love that doesn't freelance
I confess...
I'm a cat in
a human body
surrounded by
drooling
deluded dogs
I confess...
I spew doggerel
in a poetic
wasteland
as the wolves
claw their
verses
on electronic pages
and howl at
their unamused
muses
I confess...
I hide under a table
or
climb up a tree
as the dogs of war
merrily pant
while
mauling the world
I confess...
I'm guilty of living
in the wrong
country
on the wrong
planet
at the wrong
time
but will
soon exhaust
my nine lives
and then
lapse into
a permanent
catnap
I told the mirror not to answer
but it wept a name I had never spoken
yours. The one with no god,
no grave, only silence for bones.
We made chapels of each other's mouths,
your breath the liturgy,
mine the dagger.
We knelt. We undressed. We bled.
Each kiss a benediction
spilled on the floor of the forsaken.
You called me a cathedral;
I called you a ruin with holy teeth.
We carved poems on the inside of our skin
so when we died,
they'd read the rot
and say: "This was once love."
But we were never alive enough
for it to end that gently.
Only ghosts would make love
the way we did
with war
with fever
with famine
with cum.
I've been making confessions to the Solar System
Every night to the moon, every day to the sun
I want to scoop the stars into a cup and sip the milky way through a straw and drink until my body is nebula and dust fills my lungs
to satisfy the thirst for my obliteration
to be in as many pieces as my heart
to be the galaxy that lights up your night sky
I just want to be something that you love
hold the rope tight, never let go of a safe hand
the journey ahead is far too brutal to make sense
what once seemed fated, shall shatter one's hopes
the idea of love was born from a poet's thought
lover's rose from the ashes to finish their lovelorn stories
heart wrapped in barbed wire yet still beating-
for the one who will break my heart
uncover new truths in each arc
First, remove the eyelids—
they hold too much fiberglass.
Grind streetlight into gunpowder,
cut it with gravel—snort the cocaine dusk.
Take the sidewalk like heretic communion,
metal-flake wine, asphalt host.
She blinks razors.
Stars break in her clavicle.
You don’t touch her—you calibrate.
Banana fingers, bruised and humming,
plucking vapor off the fencepost.
Storm-laced teeth.
Voice as hinge,
breath as cordless vacuum
throat tightrope over a cheap
motel dirty sink.
We lit the penguin rodeo in her Glacial ribcage.
Called the roots collect.
Spoke in wire glyphs.
The cancer slept in our gums,
soft, radiant.
I opened her chest
found an IPhone
still blinking,
still ringing,
with no one left to answer.
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