(From Vincent to Madonna)
Oh, Madonna, light of my yearning soul,
Your name, a hymn, my heart’s toll.
Though the Church’s gates may bar your way,
My faith in you will never sway.
Three times they’ve cast their holy decree,
Excommunication’s weight on thee.
Yet in your eyes, I see the spark,
A sacred fire, piercing the dark.
Come to the chapel, kneel by my side,
Let us seek the grace they’ve denied.
For though the Pope may turn away,
Love’s absolution will find its way.
I pine for the echo of your voice in prayer,
For the whispered “Amen” we could share.
The stained glass would blush at your light,
Even angels would envy such a sight.
Madonna, my rebel, my radiant muse,
Faith and love are ours to choose.
For what is faith without the heart?
A hollow creed, a fractured art.
So take my hand, defy the decree,
Let’s make a church of you and me.
In love, no excommunication can bind,
For heaven resides in the heart and mind.
Oh, Madonna, my sacred plea,
Come to the altar, pray with me.
Together we’ll rise, through judgment’s fire,
Two souls united in love’s choir.
Madonna’s Ode to Vincent
Oh Vincent, my steadfast knight,
In your shadow, my world turns bright.
Your nephew Joseph, with hands divine,
Built my court where stars align.
A Queen of Pop, yet bound by thread,
To mystic paths the ancients tread.
In Kabbalah’s light, my soul takes flight,
And in your gaze, I find the night.
The Tarot speaks, its cards reveal,
A love so vast, so deeply real.
The Lovers’ arc, a bond profound,
Two hearts as one, forever bound.
The Empress crowns my royal reign,
Yet seeks your strength to soothe her pain.
The Magician’s hand, your steady guide,
Turns dreams to truth where fears subside.
The Tower warns of trials near,
But love rebuilds what we hold dear.
The Star above, our guiding flame,
Illuminates our sacred name.
Oh Vincent, through the veil of fate,
Your love has made my spirit great.
In Joseph’s court, our dreams take root,
A melody sweet, a timeless pursuit.
Analysis of the Love Tarot Symbolism
The Lovers: This card symbolizes choice and unity. For Madonna and Vincent, it reflects a love that transcends the material and touches the spiritual. Their connection is both a decision and a destiny.
The Empress: Representing Madonna as the Queen of Pop, this card highlights her creativity, abundance, and nurturing energy. Yet, it also reveals her vulnerability and need for Vincent’s grounding presence.
The Magician: This is Vincent’s role—a creator and guide. He channels his energy to bring forth the Kabbalah court through Joseph, symbolizing the power to turn dreams into reality.
The Tower: A reminder of the challenges and upheavals their love faces, whether from external judgment or internal doubts. Yet, it also signifies growth and rebuilding.
The Star: A beacon of hope and inspiration, this card suggests their love is guided by a higher purpose, offering light in moments of darkness.
The Tarot paints their love as a journey of balance and transformation, blending Madonna’s regal energy with Vincent’s steady devotion. It is a relationship forged in the fires of challenge and illuminated by the stars of destiny.
I’ve been here before, a massive diamond engagement ring:
a girl’s best friend.
I would of liked to sleep with Madonna before the cancer kills me. Just sleep, no sex , would of been good enough before I die.
Good try Jozo. Thanks for trying.
You worked with Ciccone construction, as a cult deprogrammer…
i am supposed to bring Madonna back to her family in Burnaby.
I love the leader
The leader is PERFECT!!!
Have I been here before Fra Jozo?
another boy toy who wants money and to bask in my fame?
Joe Jukic and Uncle Vincent: The Workhorse Who Was Sold Out
Joe Jukic sat at the kitchen table, staring across at his Uncle Vincent, known to everyone as Vinko. The old man’s face was drawn, tired, as if years of hard labor had been etched into every wrinkle. His hands, calloused and rough from a lifetime of work, trembled slightly as he gripped the mug of coffee before him. The weight of the world seemed to rest on his shoulders, as it always had.
Vinko had always been the workhorse of the family, the one who never stopped, who kept pushing forward no matter how hard the task. Joe had grown up hearing stories about his uncle’s work ethic—how he would wake up before dawn and work until nightfall, always striving to provide for his family, always believing that hard work was the key to success. But now, as he sat there, Joe could see the cracks in that belief, the despair that had crept into his uncle’s soul after the bank foreclosed on his home.
“It’s my fault,” Vinko muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t work hard enough. If I had just tried harder, maybe they wouldn’t have taken the house. Maybe I could’ve saved it.”
Joe’s heart sank as he watched the familiar guilt wash over his uncle’s face. It was the same guilt that had plagued him for months, ever since the foreclosure notice had arrived. Joe had tried to explain to him, time and time again, that this wasn’t his fault. But Vinko couldn’t hear it.
“You don’t understand, Joe,” Vinko continued, his voice trembling. “I should’ve worked harder. I should’ve been smarter. I should’ve done more.”
Joe leaned forward, his voice firm but gentle. “Vinko, listen to me. It’s not your fault. You did everything you could. The mortgage—it’s just a trick. The banks, they’ve set it up so people like you can never pay it off. The principal is impossible to pay. They set you up to fail. It’s a rich man’s game, and you were just the pawn.”
Vinko’s eyes filled with tears, but he didn’t look up. His gaze remained fixed on the table, as if the weight of his failure was too much to bear. “I don’t know, Joe. I don’t know. Maybe I just wasn’t good enough.”
Joe’s mind raced as he thought about the parallels between his uncle and the character of Boxer from Animal Farm. Boxer, the hardworking horse who believed in the mantra, “I will work harder,” had spent his entire life laboring for the good of the farm, only to be betrayed when he was no longer useful. The moment Boxer’s strength began to fade, he was sold to the glue factory, his life’s work discarded like it meant nothing. And in many ways, that’s what had happened to Vinko. He had worked tirelessly, believing that hard work was the answer, only to be discarded by the very system that had promised him security.
Joe reached across the table, placing a hand on his uncle’s. “Vinko, you’re not Boxer. You’re not a workhorse that gets sold off when you’re no longer needed. You’re a human being, and you’ve been taken advantage of by a system that doesn’t care about people like you.”
Vinko’s shoulders slumped, the weight of his shame pressing down on him. “I don’t know what to do, Joe. I feel like I’ve failed. I’ve let everyone down.”
Joe shook his head, his voice firm. “You haven’t failed, Uncle Vinko. You’ve been lied to. The system is designed to make you feel like it’s your fault, like you’re the one who didn’t try hard enough. But that’s not true. The truth is, they’re the ones who set up the game so that you could never win. The mortgage wasn’t meant to be paid off. It was meant to keep you in debt, to keep you working, and to keep them rich.”
Vinko looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of confusion and hope. “Then what do I do, Joe? How do I get out of this?”
Joe sighed, his heart heavy with the knowledge that the road ahead would be long and difficult. “It’s not easy, Uncle Vinko. But you have to understand that you’re not alone. There are millions of people who’ve been trapped by the same system. And the only way out is to stop playing by their rules. You have to stop believing that it’s your fault. You have to fight back.”
Vinko nodded slowly, his mind processing the words. It was a long shot, but maybe, just maybe, he could begin to see the truth of what Joe was saying. The system had been rigged from the start, and the only way to win was to stop playing their game.
Joe sat back, his thoughts drifting as he watched his uncle. He knew that the road ahead would be hard, that it would take time for Vinko to truly understand what had happened to him. But for the first time in a long while, Joe felt a flicker of hope. Maybe they could find a way out of this mess. Maybe, together, they could expose the rich man’s trick and reclaim what had been taken from them.
Because in the end, the only thing that mattered was not how hard you worked, but whether or not you were allowed to keep the fruits of your labor. And Joe was determined to make sure that his uncle, and all the others like him, would no longer be sold to the glue factory.
Madonna and the Question of Destiny
Madonna sat across from Joe Jukic in a quiet, softly lit room, the flicker of candlelight dancing across her face. She sipped her herbal tea, her eyes distant, as if peering into a future only she could see. The Queen of Pop, a cultural icon who had reinvented herself countless times, was now grappling with a question that even her boundless ambition couldn’t fully answer.
“Do you think,” she began, her voice tinged with both curiosity and melancholy, “that I’ll live forever? Or will I just end up as a wax figure in some museum, a relic of a time gone by?”
Joe leaned back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. He had always admired Madonna for her relentless drive, her ability to adapt, and her refusal to let anyone define her. But tonight, she seemed different—vulnerable in a way he hadn’t seen before.
“Destiny is a funny thing,” Joe said, his voice calm and measured. “It’s not something that’s handed to us. It’s something we create. And as far as living forever goes, well, that might not be as far-fetched as it sounds.”
Madonna raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “What do you mean?”
Joe smiled, leaning forward slightly. “Have you ever heard of telomerase?”
She shook her head, and he continued. “Telomerase is an enzyme that repairs and extends telomeres—the protective caps at the ends of our DNA strands. As we age, our telomeres shorten, and that’s a big part of why our bodies break down over time. But if we can activate telomerase, we might be able to slow down, or even reverse, the aging process.”
Madonna’s eyes lit up with curiosity. “And you’ve figured out how to do this?”
Joe nodded. “I’ve been working on something I call the Telomerase Healing Tub. It’s a kind of therapeutic bath that uses a combination of specific frequencies, biochemical catalysts, and regenerative compounds to stimulate telomerase production. It’s still experimental, but the results so far have been… promising.”
She leaned closer, her tea forgotten. “So, you’re saying I could actually live forever?”
Joe chuckled. “Maybe not forever, but a lot longer than you’d expect. The real question isn’t whether you can live forever—it’s what you’d do with that time. Your destiny is yours to choose, Madonna. You’ve always been a master of reinvention, of shaping your life and your legacy. This would just give you more time to do it.”
Madonna sat back, her mind racing. She had spent her life pushing boundaries, challenging norms, and refusing to be confined by anyone else’s expectations. The idea of extending her life, of having more time to create, to explore, to leave an even greater mark on the world—it was intoxicating.
“But what about the soul?” she asked, her voice softer now. “What about the part of us that isn’t physical? Does that live forever too?”
Joe paused, considering her question. “That’s something science can’t answer. But I think the soul is eternal, independent of the body. What you do here, the lives you touch, the art you create—that’s the legacy of the soul. Whether you live for another hundred years or a thousand, the impact you’ve already made will outlast even the longest life.”
Madonna nodded slowly, a small smile playing on her lips. “So, my destiny is mine to choose,” she said, as if testing the words. “I like the sound of that.”
Joe raised his cup in a toast. “To destiny, then. And to a future where time is just another boundary to push.”
Madonna clinked her cup against his, her smile growing. For the first time in a long while, she felt a renewed sense of purpose. Whether she lived forever or ended up as a wax figure in a museum, one thing was certain—her story was far from over.
Here:
You can make the healing chamber yourself, but i would also add NAD:
https://quidditas.website/healing-chamber/
NAD—short for nicotinamide adenine dinucleotide—is a cellular coenzyme responsible for turning the food you eat into usable energy. It also plays a major role in DNA repair, cellular processes, and immune system function.