The Fool & the White Dog

The Fool is All, in  Abstraction  
InDistinct
All potential, No action
Imaginal Dancer
Within the Fractal

The White Dog Is, All Instinction
All Distinct,
Fully Present, on the brink
Here and Now
Cosmic Wink
Soma Playing Hide and Seek

…the Particle and Wave
…Point and Line
Sacred Companions
Traveling thru Time

….a Dog chasing its Tail

or

a God chasing its Tale…..

It’s a Sine….

And It’s All Light ….

And

EveryThing Matters

Right?

Left here, in the circle

In the loop

Twisting tendrils

Into Truth

Age and Youth

Playing games of I~s and You~s

The Fool smiles wide
At the side of the cliff
The White Dog nips
At the heels of Bliss

The Mind becomes Moment
The Sphere becomes Flat
It’s Plane to See
In the Arms of Maat

The Fool steps over
the Great DiVide
Holds her Breath
Opens her I

The White Dog winks
In FreeFall
The Bliss of the Abyss
is the best Gift of All

a Dog chasing its Tail

or

a God chasing its Tale…..

It’s a Sine….

And It’s All Light ….

And

EveryThing Matters

Right?

Follow your Nose
Or follow your Knows
Follow the Gnosis
Wherever It goes

In and out and up and down
Over and under the merry-go-round

The Dice Game of Shiva
The Jesters Playground
The tapestry of Time
is where It is Found

The Tale we tell of the El and the Mag
The Tail of the Dog eternally wags
The God in the Tale that twists the Rhyme
Is the God in the Self of You and I
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396 e(x)ternalEyesD

CLJ 8-28-26

Pirimi Gördüm

👁️✨ P i r i m i. G ö r d ü m ✨👁️

🔥 Everyone understands the pain that accompanies death,
but genuine pain doesn’t live in the spirit,
nor in the air, nor in our lives,
nor on these terraces of billowing smoke.
The genuine pain that keeps everything awake
is a tiny, infinite burn
on the innocent eyes of other systems. 🔥

~Federico García Lorca

Bugün ben pirimi gördüm
Pirin esigi güldür gül
Egildim yüzümü sürdüm
Pir'in etegi güldür gül
Gülden terazi yaparlar
Gülü gül ile tartarlar
Gül alirlar gül satarlar
Çarsi pazari güldür gül
Gülden degirmeni döner
Nun ile gül ügünür
Akar arki döner arki
Bendi pinari güldür gül
Gel ha, gel ha, can
Hatayi dostun nefesi güldür
gül
Su öten garip bülbülün
Derdi figani güldür gül

Written by Fuat Talay & Mads Nordheim

Music by Fuat Talay & Mashti
Today I saw my pir
The pir's threshold is a rose,
a rose
I bent down and put my face on it
The pir's skirt is a rose,
a rose
They make scales from roses
They weigh roses with roses
They buy roses,
they sell roses
The bazaar is a rose,
a rose
The mill turns from roses
The rose whirls with Nun
The wheel of the stream turns
The spring of the dam is a rose,
a rose
Come, come, come, my soul
The breath of the friend
who made a mistake is a rose,
a rose
The strange nightingale that sings
The trouble of the lament is a rose,
a rose

There is a Cataract in my I

There is a cataract in my I 
As a matter of fact
It’s a Matter of Why
It’s a Mystery hidden
in shattered
Minds
fractured Skulls
manufactured
EnMasse
MKUltra Doldrums
Programmed for the
Trumpets Blast
As Vying Vultures
Dine on dying cultures
In the Petri Glass

The Cloudy Retinas
Stare back at me
In disbelief
Regurgitated memes
Offer no relief
To the crowds
Who are gathered
In Ether Nets
Screaming loud
As broken necks
dangle
From the Nous
Of the tangled Hex

They stomp their feet
And loudly proclaim
It’s simply ‘climate change’
As the simple software
In their simple
Brains
Cling to their masters
Who programmmed the Game
‘Take my Vote take my Vote!!!’
As the holes are drilled
In their leaky boats
As their souls are filled
With anecdotes
As planned panic
In demo(n a)cro(b)atic
epidemics
Offer up their scapegoats

Splintered psyches
Will grasp at straws
Every Alter
Wanders Lost
Within the Halls
Of the HollowCost
Seeded from the frequencies
As Seamen spawns
Artificial breeds
No need to bleed
In the new creed
As Paradise is Lost
And Paradox is Freed

Which way shall we go?
Apoptosis or Necrosis?
Pop-culture doses
Of symbiosis
Or sovereign exploration
Of Live Gnosis?
Menses-Mined
Over-controlled
GovernMen.t on Patrol
Third eye Blind
Dumbed-down souls
Craving Slavery
Tied to Polls….
Lies are Built
LiFe.S deFiled
On Wiped FiLes
Of the Old..:::
Can’t you See
Currents……you See,
No longer tied
To Standards
Of Gold…
Currency dies
As CurrentSeas Rise
And blurry Me~s
Close their Eyes…

There is a Cataract in my I.

A cloudy sense of Wondering Whys.

CLJ
10-9-2024