Long Atlantis Poems
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A collaboration with Linda (Poet Destroyer)
Atlantis
Can't be re-written by the Gods
The land and sands of time
Destroyed by the fire of Poseidon's curse
Atlantis swallowed by: Earth
In one day and one night
Peaceful existence met its end
Built on a volcano, now surrounded by ancient rippled tears
Lava stripped apart the rich and glorious empire
Enriched by engineers and architects whom loved power more than the Gods
Forgotten souls, sheltered by a watery grave
History withheld from shallow sunken memories
Western sky's hide the truth, a vision from the Pillars of Hercules
"An island situated in front of the Strait of Gibraltar"
Ghostly ruins wait to rise above the Mediterranean and Atlantic waves
A magical land held down by the hands of death,
Atlantis lost city walls...a secret hidden by mermaids
Partially buried, beneath the ocean floor it lies
The largest sunken treasure never to be found
Magnificent pillars of an imperial palace still stand
Somewhere hidden under ancient sand
Some are leaning against turrets, that toppled after the impact
Nothing human will ever inhabit these walls
No feet will ever touch these staircases, again
Only an eerie silence now resides here, with the blue-green waters
Seaweed grows along it's outer walls, like ivy on a trellis.
Obscuring it even further from the human eye.
Other ocean tides will never compare
Tantalizing blend of fantasy and mystery
Stone walls covered with precious gems
...Listen to Plato's voice...
"Look close, look close, into the sea!"
Through the light and Pillars of Hercules
Some where out there buried in the vast
Atlantis the Paradise
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Linda, I just wanted to say thank you for allowing me to write this awesome poem
with you. I truly appreciate all of the support that you have given me since I have been here. It is sad to see such a talented poet leaving the Soup.
You are one of my favorites, and I will miss you very, very much, Linda.
Always & Forever, Kelly
A poet worth his salt is one that feels
each vowel he is tossing in the air;
And poetry's the altar where he kneels
to thank the Almighty in a fervent prayer.
He works as hard as fifty slaves combined
to make his poems loved and understood
while striving for the worthy and refined,
he puts to verse his ever-racing moods.
The sleepless nights, the crumpled sheets, the fire
of his impassioned soul, to serve his Queen.
The goddess Poetry, his one desire,
for her he would be faceless and unseen.
At sea, at home, while strolling at the beach,
the rhyming harmony torments his soul.
His muse and quill are never out of reach
enduring passion steals his self-control.
Oh, what a bliss, to live in your embrace,
the nymph of rhyme, the fairy of the verse.
Urban sprawl, a bard's immune to space.
Atlantis, his poetic universe.
His stalks his Muse, and she, a grateful slave
to stirrings of his soul, a mother hen.
She waits on him, while he, ungrateful knave,
barrages her in his concocted glen.
A true poetic soul will never ask
for olive laurels it did not deserve.
A humble pilgrim, in a nameless mask
poetic spirit's born to woe and serve.
Through the centuries, the poets write
to bring across their effervescent light.
This story is better
Then the Lady and the Tramp
It’s a doggy tale revamp
Maxi and Twiggy
Used to patrol the streets of Atlantis
Yep these two were the baddest
A bit more bad ass
Not your ordinary mutts
This is story of glory and guts
Nothing went past these two
Unnoticed and without an
occasional bark or snarl
Your ankles weren’t also spared
The postman got his share
Of your daily dose of neighbourhood watchdogs
One day something happened
Twiggy was fighting with Emily’s big dog
She was trying to protect her litter of puppies
Even if it meant she would lose
Her life or pride
It was her pride she lost
Her puppies were safe
But I noticed something strange
Twiggy was never the same
the fight she lost was too much
It is almost like she went insane
After that I never saw her again
Maxi lost her best friend…
Form:
Bahama Mama palm trees,
The island’s blue skies,
Lime and blueberry umbrellas.
Pink coral rays rolling out
A poetic zephyr of relaxation;
Massage of sun on shoulders.
Down we go, with the tubes,
Bumping walls, as water falls;
Playing seaweed footsie.
Approach of Autumn seas,
Stingrays and sharks of Atlantis,
Strolling in figure eights.
On the Royal’s 15th floor,
Entertained by Summer storm
and moonlit motifs on the shore.
Didn’t come close to sliding,
Beach wind calming,
Sipping my coconut rum.
Later three cherries float
in my runner, and a stranger
demands a fruitful repeat.
I don’t broach the subject
of cashing out; gambler, not;
Danger of sunken treasure.
Wrapped up this celebration;
a row of chairs, food to spare,
Hellos and Tatas. Wings lift, land.
I lay awake once again
Unable to clear my head.
I wish this storm of thoughts would cease,
And allow me to go to bed.
I dream about the future.
I reminisce about the past.
I think about things I could have done.
A funny thought crosses my mind and makes me laugh.
I try to comprehend the vastness of space,
And speculate about aliens.
I theorize about time travel
And what was there before time began.
I try to count some sheep
But they mull around so fast.
I lose track and have to start over.
How much time has past?
I think I figured out why we have wisdom teeth,
Where Atlantis may be, any why we end prayers with Amen.
I paint a picture in my mind.
Then erase it, and paint it once again.
I do everything but sleep.
Then I wonder why we even need to.
Imagine everything we could accomplish if we didn't.
Probably nothing, just like I do.
Are we like the mythical Adam and Eve?
(A lone voice whispers to his true love as Mother Moon, watches)
My Sophia
Are we are like the mythical
Adam and Eve
Walking upon the grey shores
Of a lost planet
Hidden in the deepest of space
Our true love holding us
Knee-deep in make believe
As if buried alive
Where we will witness
The birth of nebula's
Stars
And rediscovered Old Gods
A new Atlantis
Filled with wild pagan beasts and jealous old women and men
Where we will stride beyond the reach of the
Masters of the Masonic Temples
Erecting their secretive
Light barriers
So we can part the soft pink pages
In our own Books of Exquisite Pleasure
To be then perused and used
At our inquisition and leisure
As we watch the fall of the new AI-driven human
With the rise of the
Cosmic Red Serpent
Laying upon the yellow sands and shorelines
As the new time of crucifixions begins again
To see the visceral sights and smells
As new spellbound disciples yell
Palaces and institutions
May burn and be
Aflame before us
A new vision of a world consumed with
Corruption and sin
For as we watch, we will know
We are lone riders of
The Great Red Dragon once foretold
We are some of the mythical poets and writers
World and Empire
Watchers
Who never grow old
We
Me and you
My Sophia
My queen
Who collects the Universes many hidden stories
For in time
To be simply retold
We
Just reborn as poets today
No longer
Citizens of any known countries
Just sent again
From The Great In-Between
To release new thoughts and words like red balloons to float
To encourage and nourish inquisitive minds
Which are perpetually hungry
For enchanting new stories
To rebel in this glory
Contained and captured in this
Our everlasting promissory note
Released like celebration balloons
Into new readers minds
To forever
Settle or float
Copyright John Duffy
Ancient Conspiracies
Thousands of years ago
They came to earth
Alien shapeshifting reptilian creatures
From Sirius the dog star
They founded Atlantis
Enslaved humanity
They destroyed Atlantis
In a nuclear war
The descendants walk among us
To this day
Forming an ancient conspiracy
The shapeshifters are everywhere
Could be any one
They are the secret power
Behind everything
Their name is legend
Satan
Lucifer
Illuminati
Free masons
Knight templar
The trilateral commission
The committee that does not exist
Their goal
Total enslavement of humanity
With the shapeshifters in charge
And they are so close
To achieving their goals
Be afraid be afraid
The end of the world
Is at hand
As the committee
Prepares for the final
Invasion of the earth.
When I was in Atlantis,
We walked not on ground, but upon fields of light.
The air itself knew our names —
And the stars bent low to whisper secrets.
We spoke in silence,
Words unneeded between hearts that saw all.
Clairvoyance was breath,
Clairsentience our compass,
And the soul — a library open wide.
Crystals sang in our temples,
Drawing energy from the eternal pulse.
We lit cities with intention,
Moved mountains with dreams,
And healed the wounded with the truth of our thoughts.
Children came knowing the galaxies.
Elders sat with star maps etched in their veins.
Time was not a ruler,
But a dance —
And we moved with it, in rhythm,
Never fearing age or end.
I remember the halls of sapphire and gold,
Where silence roared with wisdom.
Machines bowed to willpower,
And portals opened to worlds beyond this solar flame.
We traveled by mind —
To Andromeda, to Sirius,
To places no Earth tongue dares name.
We were creators, not consumers,
Guardians of balance, not lords of war.
But hubris crept in —
A shadow at the edge of all light.
The crystal towers cracked,
Not from weakness, but from forgetting.
And the sea… the sea remembered.
It swallowed us — not as punishment,
But as a closing page,
So that we might return again,
In flesh and pain,
To reclaim the wisdom we once held in our hands.
Now I walk in this world,
With whispers of then behind my eyes.
And when I dream,
I dream in blue and gold —
In symbols that hum with ancient memory.
Atlantis was not a myth.
It was a mirror.
And we… we are its echo,
Returning, reawakening,
One soul at a time.
Cosmic enthusiasm oozing at covert desert landing strip
We, Sedona's most aware, gathered in dream state,
Opening our minds in amazed glory.
Excitement mounts, as we begin to see our immediately recognized but never before met E.T. ancestors
who are returning to claim us as their most assertive by-products.
Ethereal night gliders, who have taken eon-years to return.
The hidden survivors of Atlantis hit the hidden landing lights
Sedona's secret airport returns to her former active state.
We, who have been led here in our dreams
Welcomed by our extraterrestrial sixth-fathers
Determined to take us to our forever home
I have never felt so delighted. My heart is racing in excitement!
From my English cottage
I can see America.
Éire sings, as it labors in my field of vision,
it's drunk on nostalgia as usual.
A great sail-winged albatross
glides across from one eye to the other.
The trip to Ohio
is a drawn-out unmusical note in a leaky
squeeze box.
From my Midwest window I can see
the top of a Walmart roof,
it has a beauty all of its own.
Morning and evening,
snow white seagulls fly in from Atlantis,
a dreaming place that only appears
when the sun perches upon
puffy eyelids.
In a twilit garden
(a place where paper roses
wrestle with living thorns),
time circles
seeking its way past another day.
The days hitchhike on my shoulder, I must travel
across the luna surface of my mind.
One deep breath should be enough
to push me just beyond the city dump.