FTMT's Favourite Five Top Tenets

Monday, April 28, 2008

The unbearable...

The girl from Mars who turned out to be a devil woman is the lady in the picture, at a later age some say. Like the twisted plot of a hastily constructed B movie that you missed first and second and third time round, you then saw it on BBC2 as a teenager and were profoundly affected. It all came true but in a dream that was true but imagined as all the best dreams are. They never really happened at all because you made them up. So we discovered that the parallel shards of parallel worlds were not running true and the devil woman emerged and tried to contact you. What she said and what you did have not been recorded, sadly. But that was some time ago, in the days of monochrome, black and white and sepia and the early breakfast. Oh! how we laughed and oh! how you danced. Dating girls from Mars is highly risky, there is the chance of a terrible mismatch and the crossing over of ancient and sacred lines. I don't quite know the way that they run (these lines) but I am determined to follow them, at least in my own way and at a reasonable pace. That will probably be as much space exploration as I do this week but don't let me stop you.

Friday, April 25, 2008

The way of goodness

There is another way.
There is a way of reason.
There is a third way.
We do not speak of.
There is the way.
The way that warms the heart, sears the soul, dries the eyes and fills the hollow. Silences the inner voices and plugs the holes wet with doubt dripping down. This is the yet to be way, a chosen way that you have not yet chosen.
The blind see what they want to see. You have remained unsighted because of your own narrow view. Obscured. Fearful. Blank and angry. There is another way.
The best men and women marry only the truth, an expression of the ages and the void, a talent bought with time on this earth and then managed. A fairytale. You have to pay the dues and deny yourself shortcuts. No narrow way for the lazy man. No purchase of shares or peering over the shoulders of those who have learned. The golden book waits for you to be ready.
It is in the title, the way of goodness. Strange and simple.
Strange (to you now) but simple.

Sunday, April 20, 2008

She was a doctor...

She was once a doctor. I was training to be a priest.
We married in July I think. Our happiness was released.
We breakfasted and fasted.
We slept in separate beds.
The Pope came with a pick me up.
"I understand" was all he said.
This marriage of the ideals was a divorce of heart and head.
She operated quickly and stitched with golden thread.
Her scalpel cut, she stemmed the flow, my head swam at high mass.
There was no respite or relief, there was no way to pass.
Religion is the death of me and medicine her life.
She was a doctor and I a priest. Her husband and my wife.

The meaning of life

The meaning of life. What's the meaning of life? The meaning of life. What's the meaning of life?

If you have been looking hard for the answer then be glad. I have it, I own it. I possess it. I am however willing to share it. The meaning of life is simple, as you might expect, yet complex, as you may have feared. It is close, as you may have hoped but far away, as you may have suspected. What shall I say then? Are you ready for the news and will you receive it well or will you back away?

The secret of life,and it's meaning is simple: learn to live it. Live now, in the moment. Do the things you want to do. Do not wait years or months, do not procrastinate, don't bother with struggle or turmoil, don't be bound up by stress or doubt. Live your life now and get happy, there is no second chance, there is no rehearsal. This is it. Make the most. You will not be sorry.

Wednesday, April 09, 2008

Paris in the spring

We were never so diverted, so related, so understated as in the spring.

The view from here is marvelous but where are we?

You bought a catalogue that explained everything.

I felt like I had been waiting forever.

This piece of work may be a sham.

I was momentarily distracted by a by-stander.

The coffee was the best I ever had.

And so on to some other city.

Paris in the spring.

Got it

Got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got it got got it got it got it.

Paris in the spring.

Get it

Get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it get it.
Paris in the spring.

Monday, April 07, 2008


A Monk was once was me.
In a small monastery.
In Portugal a long time ago.
This career choice has granted me,
a few moments of purgatory,
a trip to heaven's gate,
some time in the repository of a grave,
and then the chance to shine,
on a dead wall, some way out of the sunshine.
I'm a public spectacle and a chance,
for the Holy Roman Catholic Church,
to make a quick buck,
from tourists and heathens alike,
pilgrims and faithful and those not careful,
with their cash.
It seems I now have the last laugh.