The Fool; The Poem

In 1990 Abu presented me with a hand written copy of the 21 verse poem across three pages of flimsy printer paper. It would be this that would finally bring life to these tabloids and move them away from the dependence on the traditional Waite Rider and Frown Strong imagery.

Here it is reproduced in its entirety.


White rabbits, White rabbits, White rabbits
on this All Fools’ Day morn;
This is the next great Paradox
the student needs to learn.

The Fool is just the Scapegoat
for other men’s frustration.
He hides within His broken heart
the pain of all Creation.

Insults roll right off His back
like water from a duck
He has a placid attitude
He doesn’t give a… damn!

If this upsets your symmetry
You’d better put it down.
There’s always more than meets the eye
with Magician, Fool and Clown.

They all conduct you subtly
through misty worlds of wonder.
Now you see him. Now you don’t.
There’s much skill in His blunder.

For He is making Fools of you,
but this you do not see;
You are too busy being amused
by His unreality.

He walks the tightrope every day
twixt insanity and genius.
But who’s to say what side He’s on,
or does He stand between us?


Is He the real dividing line?
or does he join us both?
Does He turn water into wine?
or laughter into wrath?

Magicians all began this way,
With merriment and mirth,
‘til they developed wondrous skills,
To add greatly to their worth.

For on the border and on the edge
is where they both do deal,
‘twixt that which is perceived as false
and what is known as real.

But who knows really which is which?
And who can measure all?
Scientist? Theologist?
Is there any truth at all?

Come Fools and Jesters, Jokers all
Show us what you’re worth.
Dissipate this atmosphere
and short it out to earth.

Negate the reading, tip the scales,
They value not your power!
Change the balance, play the Fool,
Until the vital hour.

Aces high, Aces low,
play your Joker now!
Wild cards count for anything
That’s the way to win, and how!


The Fool is just in training
a Magus for to be.
His mind knows no restrictions
the free-est of the free.

Restrictions only hinder,
The progress of the man.
Advice the only guideline,
He takes, or leaves alone.

The lunatic is on the hill,
He ponders in this head,
The mysteries of the universe
As he lays awake in bed.

No one takes any notice.
They cannot comprehend
the rantings He comes out with
the Mirror his only friend.

His strength is in his weakness,
His weakness in his strength.
The Fool is such a paradox,
He’ll go to any lengths.

For to fulfil His Destiny
and Merge with everything;
to lose Himself in occult work
Enlightenment to bring.

Twenty one the verses
in this most balanced deck.
The Fool is nowhere to be seen
else the balance He would wreck.

Maha Abu,
with collaboration from Tim Stalmans
1 April 1990

Written by and the copyright of Maha Abu. Used with the author’s permission. Must not be reproduced without the written consent of the copyright holder.