In Between Poems | Examples

Brave In Between

Before each sunrise, 
One must live through a whole night;
Be brave in between.

The In-Between Space

I stand between the end and start,
A quiet room, a restless heart.
Fifteen years of pages now turned slow,
Yet what comes next, I do not know.

Life, death and everything In between

Years of growth, years of wonder.
Years of thought, years of plunder.
Years of dreaming, years of hopes.
Years of late nights, years of beers.
Years of baggage, years of stress.
Years of commitments, years of doubts.
Years of love, years of responsibilities.
Years of pressure, years of strain.
Years of mortgage, years of pain.
Years of fatigue, years of wine.
Years of laughter, years of sorrow.
Years of yesterdays, years of tomorrows.
Years of promises, years of memories.
Years of silence, years of fears.
Years of loss, years of tears.

In Between The Lines

In Between The Lines
 To be discreet.
 Some will understand me.
 A time to write.
 A time to drink.
 Life with no boundaries.
 Toil in the night.
 Read in between the lines.
 Love writing.
 Always thinking.
 Empty pages.
 Poetry with coffee.
 Document your own journey.
 Own ideas.
 No limits.
 Ink on paper.
 Many new titles to cover.
 I’m a perfectionist.
 With endless pages.

Visions from The Great In-Between

(A lone voice whispers)

Did you know that demons prowl like a clan of hyenas while you sleep? 

They come close, creeping in from the dark shadows and sniffing for the odour of your soul. 

Their presence may signal that you are becoming increasingly corrupted by the insidious manipulation of society as you grow older. 

They seek the sweet smell of cabbage, a feast to collect, much like Bob Marley, as your soul grows weak.

As you carry more and more unnecessary chains and baggage. 

So the question is: 

Will you pray to your God of choice to strengthen your soul? 

For when you sleep, the night dwellers come prowling, creeping in to seek you as their ultimate goal. 

For they look for corrupted souls who are drawn to all things wicked, linked to defilement.

As they use soul metastasis to help their wickedness grow, like falling black snow. 

(C) Copyright John Duffy

Life and Everything in Between

Every moment we have, it’s not ours to idle away,
It’s not ours to cosy in slumber,
The night is not faceless,
And the day is not merely a superficial series of events.

We walk through a door leading to others connected in time,
Mystery intertwines with these connections,
We search for answers that plunge us deeper into the mystery’s wormhole,
Each piece leads to the next, but we’re yet to complete the puzzle.

Hope is the lamp that brightens our paths in the stygian night,
When the moon and stars are cocooned in layers of darkness,
When the susurration of the rivers plucks on the strings of melancholy,
And an oppressive heaviness obstructs the redemption light.

Every moment we have is ours to pursue our purpose,
Summon the elements to unveil the day’s splendour,
Uncover the treasures hidden in the night’s chamber,
Find guidance in the stillness of our souls,
Until we’re greyed and frayed by time.


May 7, 2025.

In-between worlds

Take me down the cobbled path
Where moss and grasses grow
Sink my heels in dampened sand
Where oceans ebb and flow

Let the breeze sweep through my lips 
The sunshine warm my skin
Let the dew drops gently fall
Where mornings will begin

Dance me though the scattered corn
And twirl amongst the stars
Let the rain splash down the stream
To the world that once was ours

If I feel the sun upon my face
The wind rush through my hair
If I breathe in the salt and close my eyes
I pause, and you are there

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

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

silence volumes and voids in between

i’ve never seen out a window ~ maybe you can help describe the scene 

said the blind man to Siri ~ asking her to throw light on his life’s dream 

a chatbot overheard Siri’s muteness ~ and typed I see what she means
    
                                     #bonus monoku#

turn your iphone on its side ~ my point of view simply aligns the screen 


By
David Kavanagh

In-Between Days

Scarlet sun peeks through
a slit in darkling storm clouds.
Butterflies go home.
Sky meets sea at plum border
as pink moon trails, in order.

The in-between

I am the unseen titan who stands with a height so vast. I am the bridge, the body, the threshold. In stories tales and film of some dull design. As ones passes leaving behind there shell upon there last touch of comfort opposed to the hands of grief holding on to what must change and evolve as through there perspective of the dead in there most pure and raw form seeing the very ceiling gone as if if never there. Nothing no obstruction no signs of tamper but a wide blue sky in ones raw form climb the invisible ladder, walk the phantom staircase. This escalation to our source, our home is merely a mistake. For I know what's truth for to reach the true gates one must stand upon the shore of beauty where the waves keeping coming back in a sense of requesting your return . walk on the water and progress to the very raw source of our home. For earth is the surface and heaven lies the in the solar system of the North Star the hole breaking through the black wall of space.

In Between

In between
Between the cognitive and the dissonance 
Between the lover and the loved
Cradled in the arms of Vishnu I am the infinite possibility 
Between states of matter is where I hold my potential
I crave to be held but who’s hands are big enough to hold infinity
Perhaps it’s a matter of bravery rather than scale 
The silence between the words, I am deafening

Krampus speaks from the Great In-Between

Will he be visiting you with more than a lump of coal?


(A dark voice whispers)


Love and loneliness 
Unspoken dreams of romance and broken hearts 

Shall have no reunion 
But instead

Like fettered beasts to the slaughterhouse

They will stare foolishly into the distance 

As they are abandoned, 
Pleading for hope and a new companion 

For deaden souls deserve no salvation

Such is my curse of the Dammed 

Running or walking throughout 
Every living nation 

Men or women
Especially at Christmas

Swimming naked in pools of hate and judgement 

Shall become as one

As they hear my approaching bells

Under the gaze of my cosmic gun

Love and loneliness
Sadness and pain

Will be their everlasting daylight

In their souls window panes

My silver mistress, 
Mother Moon

Will seal their fate 
On the twenty-fifth 

When presents are received
For the spiteful and jealous

The hateful and cruel 
Who loves to deceive

You better pray to change your ways 

Before Christmas Eve 

Or you might get a visit from me

Even if in me,
You do not believe 

(C)
Copyright John Duffy

Somewhere In Between

When Reality Hits A Homerun, Situations Get Real
Defending My Heart, I Refuse to Kneel
My Dragon, My Beast Please Help Me Heal
For The Rejection Was Not A Prescient Projection
Like a Tainted Injection
Creating Injuries to My Purported Soul
Damn Burnt Bridges, Forfeited Toll
Thank You For Teaching Me That Your Love Was Inconsistent
Causing a Galling Dent
Seeking Selfish Ambitions making My Feelings Irrelevant!
Went On Ahead and Ignored Telltale Signs
My Emotions Now Apathetic, Feelings Expatriated, Re-directed, Reassigned!
I Guess Life is Poetry, The Ups and Downs
My Story, My Song
Verses of What Could Have Been
In The Darkest Dark, In The Luminous Light
I Exist Somewhere In Between!

In Between

There might be those who sail through life
And never hit a snag,
While others plod along or fight,
Each day another drag.

For most of us, it’s in between,
A balance, I suppose,
With lovely highs in opposition
To the awful lows.

So much is out of our control
And we can never guess
What ups or downs tomorrow holds
To bring us joy or stress.

No matter how we plan our days,
We’ll come to realize
The only certainty in life
Is that it mystifies.

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