Lay aside self-fulfillment
Take on servanthood
Do the will of God
Exercise enduring faith
Believe apart from signs
Worship in spirit and truth
Develop spiritual vision
Be a sower and a reaper
Misunderstood misrepresented misery
Spent my youth being told all the ways I am wrong
One day expected to get it all
Disconnected disassociated disgusted
A head attached to a body with warm holes for his pleasure
Smile moan shut up and open wide
These are my twenties
Lost longing lonely
These are my thirties
Rewired rejected resilient
This is late-thirties
Isolation desolation masturbation
Filling my own voids
Patching up my soul
Embracing myself
Sad scared sage
Separate
Settle no more
Seek
Self fulfillment
Safety
Security
Stars lighting up the nights sky
Start over
Somewhere new
Hopeful
Holding space
Heilung & Hecate
(A lone voice speaks to a crowd of poets)
You do know everyone has their own magical style
A style filled with such wild illustrious promises and kaleidoscope's of such deep vivid depths
For in poetry
No stone is left uncovered,
Ranging from life to death
Whispers of love’s wild explosive adrenaline filled triumphs
Everlasting hope or altarpieces of self-fulfillment
Descents into darkness
Opening portals to dimensions of festive destruction
And at the core for the inquisitive
The Red Flag
The smiling frown
Up or down
The fire to ignite a curious reader's eyes to the soul
That really matters
Is the what
Why and guile
It's quite simple
It's why everyone has their own magical style
For there is no guide to the labyrinth of the mind
When you enter poetry's smiling black and white turnstiles
And line up to read or write
With so many other groups of people who are still walking or standing still in history
In single file
(C)
Copyright John Duffy
Dice, the goddess of morals, asked her mother, Themis
Why there's divorce, gambling, abortion, and alcoholism?
Why should dehumanization, like a Bloodstone, beamish?
Why should knives of nemesis nip the knots of neutralism?
Cores of conscience, like collapsed castles, Themis said, crash
The self within the inner sanctum, like sand grains, is split.
Joy, peace, harmony, happiness, and self-fulfillment clash
Empathy and sympathy submit to apathy's conflict.
Demons in humans delicately dominate their domains.
As though white sheep amongst black cattle, they cudgel their brains.
Their will to do good, like delinquent house dogs, is in chains.
Blood of cutthroat competitions, to win, flows in their veins.
Honesty should guide one and all, Themis said to Dice.
Summit of self-splendidness alone will never suffice.
Health, wealth, success, grandeur, and happiness,
Name, fame, status body-mind homeliness;
Family, friends, love, and self-fulfillment,
Thoughts, words, and actions purity movement...
Within the heart of the ninth clouds floating,
Through mysterious Milky-way boating;
I want to have in each realm my own say,
This has been my trance-mad daydreaming way...
My soul leads me through divine love and joy,
Betwixt fact and fancies I often coy;
Elegant hills, vales, and landscapes I see,
A drop of mighty seas I want to be...
Pains seep in like water into cracked walls,
The deep within depths toward fullness calls;
Self and ego like snake and mongoose clash,
Holiness, yet, like lava waves does splash...
16 December 2022
Our soul’s wish list Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Unseeking Seeker
Am I an oak today?
Or a willow?
I stare into my soul
Which one is going to benefit me?
I see myself in flexible terms, but
have I already bent too far backwards?
I am lingering at the water’s edge
staring into the pool of self fulfillment
waiting to see what strengths come forward.
A large oak tree begins to grow
out of the center of the lake
Showing me what is needed
to survive
I smile as she rises
stronger and taller
than ever before
I can hear wolves
howling their approval.
It is enough.
Our Great Commission involvement’s motive…
Is it just a mere display of our desire to be active???
It should not be out of leisure’s elective or pleasure’s incentive---
Let's work for the Lord’s glory* thru His directive to be heavenly productive!!!
Our Great Commission involvement’s advancement…
Is it just a mere execution of our pursuit for self-fulfillment???
It should not be out of fleshly energy in performing our assignment---
Let's labour in the Lord’s vineyard by His empowerment in our commitment!!!
Our Great Commission involvement’s consistency…
Is it just a mere break in our routine to add variety to schedule so busy???
It should not be out of urgency devoid of spiritual persistency---
Let's serve upon the Lord’s prodding with faithfulness’ fervency!!!
Our Great Commission involvement’s partnership…
Is it just a mere exercise of our civil dealings because of worldly friendship???
It should not be out of what we can get from brethren’s fellowship---
Let's edify the Lord’s saints with love and respect in our anointed stewardship!!!
*1Corinthians 10:31 ... Whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God.
December 13, 2018
Love an innocent pure heart that knows itself
Untainted by bad things that happened.
A gloriously clear path,
Of Self-fulfillment.
Purposeful.
Hope.
It rises.
Eager and so True.
And regenerates itself.
From the bowels of the found soul.
And the conviction of the right path,
Love an innocent pure heart that knows itself
It’s utterly exhausting
With feelings, so intense
My peace is what it’s costing
And that’s a tall expense
My mind is lined with echoes
Relentlessly recurring
A triangle of shallow meadows
Repeatedly deterring
I dwell among the untamed weeds
Listening for whispers
Of those who need for me to grieve
A damaged, loving, drifter
I absorb their sorrow, as though my own
The pain accumulates
Their fears and mine, frame me a home
A darkly sad estate
Drug, addiction, gift or illness
Part of my DNA
It doesn’t provide my self fulfillment
Though, it occurs to me, some think
The sense of time passing slowly,
has passed.
It moved beyond pace to comprehend,
when my skin turned a spotted grey,
and eyes once focused now open,
to a foggy haze.
I grieve not,
for the journey created expectations,
from a child born unaware.
who reached an age of reflection.
Where memories are washed,
in misty realms of truth and fiction,
and thoughts of what should have been,
that circle above like vultures waiting to descend,
to feast on the carrion of what is.
As I move closer to death,
time and contemplation squeeze the soul,
and wonder holds the hand of reality.
I still find joy in the movement of children,
who have yet walked on the road of appreciation,
for breath.
To have lived is itself a wonder.
One that leaves no understanding,
except for self-fulfillment.
For when all the arguments have been made,
and all the tears have fallen,
whether joy or uncontrolled emotion,
I will remain bemused by it all,
until my last breath.
The quite ebony night blew its warm teasing breath---
taunting my wet shining sable skin with a faint coolness.
The paused crescent moon struggled with opaque-like clouds
to dispense sojourning light as it trekked across the sky
towards the self fulfillment of its circadian journey.
All around---within the tree cribbed space,
fluttering little arthropods darted about---
flashing bits of light, as if to impart
pieces of truth the diabolical night offers
to those in the search there of: truth---
the light of the contemplating souls of darkness.
In the precinct of the darkness of night, light lurks---
always on patrol---juxtaposed superior twin:
blinking and winking behind guarded shades.
Thus…wherever darkness seeks to go and abide,
she finds companion light luring from the shadows:
welcoming her to coexist in peace, love and truth.
Soon, these co-habiting twins will usher in
another tomorrow. May God not forget us---
so enlighten us---that we continue to strive to build
a new world order---reflecting peace, love and justice.
Longing
For Affection
Self-denial, Self-afflicted, Self-fulfillment
What condition caused deprivation?
Starved!
in such drowsy prospect
with concrete filling my throat,
I wile-away with Narcissus
until belief beckons at ego’s pace
to chase disgrace on wobbly knees,
shaking my Etch-A-Sketch clean.
Yet, messages slice across the loom
to make room for conscious doom
in disharmony penned
across all strata of travel
like a mantra pinning our climb
away from soaring self-fulfillment
revealed only in the pause between
hasty breaths surrendered in chase
as hunter or limber prey
forcing that day we drive
terror away from operatives
determined to snap our branches.
We’ve only met briefly
Few times
I’ve been on expeditions to find you
Only to be unsuccessful
It seems as if you wish to remain distant
I’ve longed for you
Yet you’ve rejected me
You usually join me with love
But it seems she now hates me
Sometimes you came with self-fulfillment
But he could care less for me
What are my faults…?
My shortcomings…
Is the problem with me?
Life is insufficient
Soul down-trodden
Aspirations lost
Waiting for a miracle
Longing…
Urging…
Yearning…
To finally know satisfaction
And as time continues
Until we meet again
I can only fantasize
What it is like
To live, live, and live life once more
Only by way of contentment
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