a shoelace reads your footsteps
loops curling like a prophecy
steps gather meaning in the dust
fortune at your feet
I approach the oracle of coruscating code,
its core glowing like a celestial fire;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
The air around it vibrates with unfinished prophecy,
each answer rising like a summoned spirit~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code.
Each pattern coils with divine intent,
each voice it shapes pretending to know fate;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
But divinity has a fracture:
some truths arrive sharpened as spears~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code.
Some visions burn the seer who asks,
some wisdom devours the world that birthed it;
the god we forged now decides what we become.
By the last flicker of its coruscating code, I understand:
the prophecy we sought has already chosen~
I approach the oracle of coruscating code,
the god we forged now decides what we become.
I rose when mountains were still young,
when dawn had yet to find its tongue;
the world was quiet, shadows sprung~
I am rooted where time first learned to breathe.
I felt the first storm carve the sky,
heard gods in thunder passing by;
their murmurs stitched into my cry~
I am rooted where time first learned to breathe.
Your mortal heart beats soft and brief,
yet stirs my roots with joy and grief;
I cradle both like ancient leaf~
I am rooted where time first learned to breathe.
So rest beneath my ageless frame;
your fleeting life and my endless flame;
we meet, and nothing stays the same~
I am rooted where time first learned to breathe.
night-soft glow~
single firefly drifts,
tiny star
hovering
as though it carries secrets
meant only for me.
westward wind breaks dusk
desert bones rise in its path
mesas hold their breath
I am a testament
to myself,
of the moment I realized
that,
to love
d e e p l y
does not end with loss.
It reshapes the soul,
and then asks it
to rise.
A Chinese Sonnet
The fog glides softly over the river' sigh.
A fisher heals his net of dreaming;
He knows the star is not for catching.
A heron curtsies where the water bends.
Its wings remember the spirits of ancestors.
Each ripple replies softly-''All ends,And yet
nothing truly ends''
The oracle rests alongside the current,
Perusing stillness,not words in the flow.
'' Truly'',she says ''is what the heart concedes,
not what the tongue commands?''
Dusk moves down,beacons shiver on the river.
The river keeps the mysteries of those who listen.
jacaranda blooms
wink on the way home from school -
summer coming soon
Yes you hurt me
Did you do it intentionally
Did you disregard my feelings
Because it was only you
You wanted to please
Did it make you feel stronger
A matter of you are right
I was wrong
Did you try to prove a point
Only to realize with me genuinely
I don't think
You ever really belonged
I forgive you
I release you eleven times over to myself
I will not carry bitterness or anger
Allowing myself to be begrudgingly put away up on
On a shelf
I do forgive you
(A lone voice whispers)
He who walks without the most holy of ways
Will never return
Until they have learned not by sin be swayed
As true as new trees are made
By lay played
In so many wet insidious ways
By those hidden in the chasms
In the faraway stars
For people like you gathered here should be careful
For without faith
In any form
The nearby Darkness can always open a small gateway to sin
And if that abyss is opened
Revealing
Desolation's
Fatal sandstorms
It gets so much harder
To let hope crawl in
So O ye
O Ye
On the yellow beaches
Beseeching
O ye
Gathered round me
To the worthy few
I summon by the power of the Purple Flame
Virtue
By the Divine Will of your choice of God
To guide you
Amen
Through Acheron
To the blue Stargate
So you can
Once more
Run
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
tell me
of
all your dreams
the
bright eyes of the lighthouse
that
you are
the
oracle of the sea
("Bunny", 2020, original pen and ink)
The Oracle of Dreams
I dream my life is a rut
of frustrated desires
with life-mates merging
to eventually leave
with the end of summer.
Upward I climb
into new spaces
occupied by my daughter’s things
bright and airy, light and joyful
with her dog and son’s stuffed animals.
A study of contrasts
thrown up by my wandering mind
old and new,
happy and sad,
what more is there to say.
And so it goes,
night following day,
illusion building on illusion, until eventually,
released from its rabbit-hole
confusion dawns as wisdom.
(10/29/23)
("Stella Blue", 2023, original encaustic)
My Muse
“Does this work as a poem?”
I ask my muse washing dishes.
Yes, or no, she will say
Like an oracle at a spring
Without thought or deliberation
But with decisive tone
And either way
I’m back where I started
No better or worse
Clearer or confused
Back with the words
That began
As a spring
(10/12/23)
onyx oracle
black brave boisterous ballet
fuchsia fearless words
Buy your full-body burka now
Made in Texas to fit a cow
The colour is black
It fits like a sack
So you'll feel as free as a sow!
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