Friday, 27 May 2016

Waiting is harder to do than doing.

From "Conversations with Ivan Shapiro"

Thieves of hearts
And body parts
None of us can spare
Livers and lights
And love-blind eyes
And tinted tresses
Of flowing hair.

Thieves of hearts
And reason leading
To unwise treason
Betrayal of the frail
Bonds of trust
Unwise desires
Watery lust
Corroding rust
Seeping though chinks
Leaching love
From weary hearts

All this and more
I've heard before
So girls heed my advice
Stop up your tears
And lonely fears
Fix that make-up
Close your ears
To snivelling pleas
Put on your
Sharpest heels
And kick
The bastard out


Monday, 23 May 2016

Once we stop fighting and yield to magic every step takes us closer to who we were meant to be, and to where we should have been had we not so stubbornly - or cowardly - turned away from that path.


Saturday, 21 May 2016

We must learn patience, because God sends the richest gifts last.


Saturday, 14 May 2016

IVAN: There is no mystery, you know. All that Magic is is God's love manifest in the world.

from "Conversations with Ivan Shapiro"
When it becomes imperative to deny an unpalatable or dangerous truth, the best and easiest way to do so is not by attacking it - which would only entrench it more deeply and make it even more likely to be believed - but to discredit the teller of that truth, and so dismiss it unchallenged.

Knowing uncertainty is everywhere makes us bolder.

from "Conversations with Ivan Shapiro"
History is a interlocking web of ongoing events, bringing us to the present as we perceive it.
What happened 400 years ago has repercussions NOW, and the ripples still travel; move past us
and onward into the future.

from "Conversations with Ivan Shapiro"
You can bend numbers any which way, and statistics are slaves to every liar.

A lot of lies can be "proved " true, but truths can never be disproved.


Sunday, 8 May 2016

The friends you have are the truest mirror of the person you are.

From "Conversations with Ivan Shapiro"


this anger
that thrums
in my throat
i swallow
i choke

this hate
that blinds
my sight
this scream
this rage
this spark
of insane

let my heart
let that
moment go

let my breath
in and out
let that calm
the fists
let the rage end

and i can be
myself again

Maanuela Cardiga

Excerpt from "TURQUOISE MOON" BOOK I: LEILA - Chapter III

Cyprus - St Joseph’s Convent - Lanarca

“You may have come here as postulants, hoping to escape the world, its sorrows, its burdens, its choices,” Sister Dominick pauses, “ You think to seek refuge in God; but there is no escaping service to humanity, and only by this service do we truly serve Him.”

Silent in the back row, Sister Mary Joseph runs her fingers over her rosary. In the quiet recesses of her mind she chants: Hail Mary full of grace…

“Your prayers are priceless, but your talents are needed. You are needed.” Sister Dominick’s gaze roves over the impassive faces in their starched frames.

“There are people in pain, the whole world is now struggling to find itself again in the aftermath of war and chaos. We are sending sisters to Palestine, to Africa, to India. We are sending women to serve God by service to our brethren. We look for women with the courage to heal the flesh, so they can reach the spirit - touch the lost soul within.”

Again those agate eyes seem to seek our certain faces. “Obedience to God’s will. That is what you vowed, my Sisters, so I set you a challenge tonight. Search in the silence of your hearts, ask God for a sign. Hearken to his call, my Sisters, and answer it with love.”

Love. Sister Mary Joseph frowns. Love. She has come here for the warm comforting embrace of God, for consolation, for forgetfulness, not to risk her sanity again in love.

“We come as brides, to serve for joy, and so let us serve.”

She kneels, she prays, and she waits. Her rosary, her counters of forgetfulness - each prayer a submersion of her self in holy silence - hangs from her hands; and around her waist under the coarse stuff of her shift, where modesty prevents even the Postulant Mistress from detecting its existence, hangs the turquoise on its scarlet thread.

The answer comes, as she knew it would. She was made for service, the whispering call is imperative.

Come, Leila, come to pray, come to love, come to serve. Come to Africa.

She will obey, and she will serve God in love.


Manuela Cardiga

Friday, 6 May 2016

Turning from pain, we turn from joy, abandon life and leave love behind.

from "Turquoise Moon"

Manuela Cardiga

Tuesday, 3 May 2016

Playing the Fool...

The Fool was always wise, and by being "the Fool" he was free to tell truths that would have seen other men executed.

Fools were exempt from judgement, yet free to judge.


Monday, 2 May 2016


Willie S says
There are plots
In number five
Alas he is a man
And wrong, of course,
There are as many plots
As there are smiles;

Characters, however,
There are only three:
The lover
The fool
And the villain
Who is free.

You are the lover
The fool am I
And the villain
In our history is time.

We grieve because we loved someone enough to give ourselves. That is a good pain.

Sometimes I think grief is the only thing in the world that is evergreen. Loves fade but never that wrenching pain of missing someone who's gone away.