Doctor White Poem by John Duffy

(A lone voice whispers)

Are there many quiet times
When you look above

And are there are many crazy raucous times

When you're also forced to
Look below

Can you still feel tendrils of
Old memories from your
Hidden archives

That cathedral you may now
Call the Ghetto Château

Where lost love or heartbreaks
Resonate

Vibrating in those very rooms
You try to outgrow



Are there still small moments and

Infusions of tranquil bouts of welcomed insurrection

Silent revolutions or tired times of forced rebellions

On the surface

Above

Are you so seemingly filled with Love

And sweet smiles and compassion

A face you parade to the world watching

But below

Where the husky darkness
Multiplies and you breathe it
Deeply in

As it flourishes and grows

Do
Invisible feelings of self-doubts

Deep inner fears and invisible tears

Call when you visit to endlessly fall

Do you wonder

Will they stay
Will they go away

All questions heralding from the smiling

Mister Who Knows
Who lives inside me

Just having a silent conversation
With you

My secret hidden alter

I call him
Doctor White

Dressed in his white coat
And with his foolish stares

I can still see him smiling everywhere.

Especially when I drink
Some wet kelter

Like my soul's satisfying
Mescaline

I may seem calm and collected

Above too
But beneath that very shimmering

Surface

I fear being totally rejected
But for now, I'll still smile and play

Empowered with the hope
That the good memories

Will stay this time
I will no longer need

To revisit my deep depths and
Those old rooms

I always seem to trespass through

A place my soul
Sometimes visits and all light

Is bereft

As Doctor White
Visits

Walking casually and smiling through

All my precious light and dark

Memories rivers



Maybe tonight I'll but stay firmly standing in those

Filled with love and lights


Standing steadfastly in the hope

They will stay the night



(C)
Copyright John Duffy