Biography of John Griffiths
Since the death of my Father 50 years ago, I started studying death and the afterlife. I carried on to get a Diploma in Metaphysics, and 10 years ago I got my Ph.D also in Metaphysics.
I have written many articles on the afterlife and also a novel. The novel was a great success in 1983 when It was published.
The majority of my poetry is about death and the afterlife, a subject that I still find facinating.
John Griffiths's Works:
Nick Steel is the Psychic Detective in this powerful story by John Grifffiths, an established writer on esoteric subjects. Nick's highly-developed psychic powers, which enable him to pass through physical barriers which would defeat the ordinary person, and to see and hear what others cannot, are used to good effect by the police in their war against crime - in this particular case, the perennial battle against illicit drug dealers. It is a highly unusual theme, developed by the author from his own extensive knowledge and experience of the psychic world, which he uses here to give an exciting and invigorating twist to the traditional 'whodunit'.
John Griffiths Poems
I can see your light is fading, It will soon be time to go. So let yourself be taken, To where you have to go.
Sitting in my quiet room, Uncertain and afraid. My friends have all departed, To a new home they have made.
The light that shines so brightly From deep within my soul, Will one day need to move on, To unite; and then be whole.
My soul decides what obstacles That I alone must face, By giving me a lifetime, To work at my own pace.
Journey Of The Night
Freedom lies before me, At the end of every day. When I leave my body sleeping, As I travel on my way.
Who could have helped this child, When his body ached with pain. While the mother kept abusing, Time and time again.
The moon may be the driver That controls the moving tide, But when the wind takes over, It awakes the force inside.
The time is now upon me, To once again return, From the realms that I resided, To a place that I can learn.
I close my eyes and flow within The confines of my mind. Where shackles have no meaning, And the limits hard to find.
The time is now before me, When the body falls away, And my spirit gain’s its freedom, From the life it had to pay.
When man first stood upon the earth, Perfection was around. Nature was in balance, In the air, and on the ground.
Progress Of The Soul
There are many realms above me, And many more below. Depending on my progress, Determines where I go.
Wise Old Tree
You held my hand as we took a stroll, For as far as the eye could see, Until we felt the need to rest, Down by a wise old tree.
Darkness is the curtain, Drawn tight across my eyes, With pinholes for the stars to shine, In the evanescent skies.
What About The Children
If Man could learn the lesson, from mistakes he made before.
There would never be a reason, to start another war.
It could be any country, where the bullets fly around.
You're sure to find the victims, lying dead upon the ground.
But, what about the children, who are standing there all crying.
With fear and desperation, as they see the people dying.