Introduction

Some years back, I grew interested haiku. Initially, because these short gems struck me as the perfect match for Twitter—a marriage made in digital heaven, as it were. Besides, how hard could it be to write a seventeen-syllable poem.

As I normally do when my interest alights on something, I read several books on the subject (that this time included Higginson and Harter’s wonderful The Haiku Handbook) and from there proceeded to immerse myself in several well-known haiku masters, such as Bashō, Buson, Issa, Shiki, et al.

Meanwhile, I began trying my hand at these things, initially strictly adhering to the five-seven-five syllable format, which, I soon came to find out (from online self-proclaimed haiku gurus), was quite a crude adaptation of that principle seeing that Japanese syllables do not necessarily correspond to English syllables (which are, by expert reckoning, quite unwieldy by comparison). Also, reading a lot of (published and respected) English language haiku I soon realized that both the five-seven-five and the seventeen-syllable “rules” had long since been abandoned by the better (and more creative) haiku poets.

As a result of seeing things in this particular light, I soon began taking liberties with the five-seven-five rule but for some odd reason the seventeen-English-syllable statute remained on the books, refused to leave, had found a home in me—if for no other reason than that my little haikus (which I soon named Wolfkus for an obvious reason) seemed to percolate to the surface fully grown and just about always in a string of seventeen-syllable creations. And when they did not, say they surfaced as an eighteen-syllable Wolfku, or a sixteen-syllable one, well, then I discovered that when I sand-papered the longer ones into seventeen, or added some air into the shorter ones into seventeen: the meaning seemed clearer, more definite—besides, this was a fun exercise (I love language and its many words and their bendable uses).

Struck by something, an image, a feeling, a thought, before long this seventeen-syllable raft came bopping to the surface (having been let go of by some curious and creative, though shy, deep-sea Wolfku deity). During a morning’s walk by the Pacific, three or four or sometimes five of these Wolfkus might surface, and it was all I could do to remember them all until I returned home to a pen or a keyboard.

Sometimes I did forget them, memory like a sieve these days.

Before not so long, many of these Wolfkus arrived more as aphorisms than true haikus, as little containers of distilled perhaps philosophical reflection. Well, since many of them struck me (the creator, or recipient might be a better word) as both unique and insightful, who was I to call a halt to this quite enjoyable, if curious, phenomenon.

A phenomenon that still flourishes and seems to have no intention to do otherwise, for I rarely return from an hour’s walk without some seventeen-syllable epigram or other.

Seeing, though, that the earth from which these Wolfkus sprung (and still spring) was replete with impressions and sometimes micro-epiphanies, I thought that perhaps it was time to revisit these Wolfkus and examine this fertile soil for what else it might hold. What, indeed, I wondered, gave birth to them, what carried them from darkness to light? And where did they, in turn, carry me? This is what gave birth to the idea of Wolfku Musings—a collection of Wolfkus and the soil that sprung them.

I have published Wolfku Musings, Book One, and will soon publish Book Two, to be followed by Three… Four… et cetera.

Meanwhile, I realized that I really should assemble a sort of archive of those Wolfkus that I have posted online, by now running into the several hundred, and also publish future Wolfkus Archives as I write and post them.

Lately, say over the last many months, I’ve begun to give my Wolfkus titles as well, just for, well, I don’t know why really, just felt right. As I now compile these Wolfkus from oldest to newest, I’ve also added titled to those who never had one.

All this said, here then, the fourteenth installment.

Wolfkus 1301 – 1400


— 1301 —

Silently Spoken

Internal language
  is a muted
  meaningful
mind modulation


— 1302 —

The Answer is Ego

Why do I act
  as if
I am separate
  as if
I am unique


— 1303 —

Thirst

Sex is not unlike
  ocean water—
you drink it
  at your own peril


— 1304 —

Scary Things

Here is a
  scary thing:
When you
  let sex in
all else begins
  to fade

And scarier still:
  When sex
  takes over
(and it will)
  nothing else
even exists

And that
  as our vernacular
  has it
is amazingly
  fucked up


— 1305 —

As For Concepts

Yes, there is
  always
the perfect
  17-syllable
expression


— 1306 —

Conceive

Conceive: The
  inconceivable
  immensity
of the manifest

Conceive: The
  insurmountable
  impotence
of ego-based wishing

Conceive: How
  do we, gradually
  rung by
  practice rung
fight this war?

Conceive:
  Surrender
  or kill Ego
Little by little
  by little


— 1307 —

Listen

To let the
  stillness
  inside you
  guide you
You have to
  really listen


— 1308 —

Internal Honesty

Never lie
  to yourself
or knowingly
  delude yourself
  no, never

Never decide
  that you know
what you
  don’t know
no pretense
  no, never


— 1309 —

As Priorities Shift

Anti-vaxxers refuse
  pre-treatment
but seem to welcome
  post-treatment


— 1310 —

Hopeless

Ego versus Universe:
  a peashooter
  versus Rhinoceros

(You’re just gonna
  piss it off)


— 1311 —

Ambulant Persona

Some days
  step by step
and word by word
  I am but
a walking language


— 1312 —

Letting Go

In letting go
  you also have to
let go of
  the letting goer


— 1313 —

Babble

Pre-Babel Babble
 understood by
  every Babbler
Babbling away


— 1314 —

Self-Enquiry

Self-Enquiry means
  chasing all things
back to Source—
  to Ultimate Truth


— 1315 —

I Breathe, I Sit

Body of
  sensation
Castle of
  emotion
I breath you
  to peace

Castle of
  sensation
Body of
  emotion
I sit you
  in peace


— 1316 —

Anapanasati

Air in and air out
  wearing away
my Atman/Brahman
  boundary


— 1317 —

Air

The air in
  The air out
The pure voice
  of Now
Heard through
  many layers

Anapanasati
  The Pure voice
  of Now
Stilling
  many echoes


— 1318 —

Anapanazazen

Cradled by air
  I am free
  to discern
Safe
  I am free
  to let go


— 1319 —

self vs. Self

The self is
  manufactured
whereas the Self
  is not—
and never was


— 1320 —

Complexity

Nothing is so
  complex
it can’t be said
  in seventeen
syllables


— 1321 —

Poetry

Poetry—a clear
  or grimy
true or not
  interpreting
  mirror


— 1322 —

Air

The purest voice
  every single
  particle
  every single
  instant


— 1323 —

Intimacy

Touch is the
  intimate sense
Air on nostril
  most intimate
  of all


— 1324 —

Anapanasati

Air in — Air out
  Every single
  particle
  Every single
  instant


— 1325 —

Lie to Truth

Sitting Anapanazazen
  is sitting the lie
the ends all lies
  is trusting the lie
that leads to truth
  is breathing the air
that leads home


— 1326 —

Peaceful Mind

Attention keeps
  the mind alive
Ignore it and
  it will rest
  in peace


— 1327 —

My Mind

My mind is not
  my adversary
It is my boisterous
  bedtime bairn


— 1328 —

Idle Mind

Even the
  idle mind
is rarely
  truly idle
So much
 to think


— 1329 —

Stillness

Only in
  deep Samadhi
do subtle
  mental
  movements
  manifest


— 1330 —

Youth

Large tongues, salt cubes
  green grass, sunshine
a child: television
  test patterns


— 1331 —

Nimitta

It is not
  the object
but the strength
  of focus
that generates
  light


— 1332 —

Stillness

Only within
  pure Stillness
do subtle
  mental
  movements
  manifest


— 1333 —

Log Rolling

Rolling off a log
A compulsive balancer
finds this very hard


— 1334 —

Anapanazazen

I am air—
  a river flowing
  through me
Discerning this
  I just am


— 1335 —

Do

All I now
  have left
  to do
  is do
Not read
  or think
  or tweak
but do


— 1336 —

The Constant

The discerner
  is the constant
The discerned
  is the variable


— 1337 —

Strangers

Thoughts all arise
  as strangers
I seize and
  embrace them
to make
  them mine


— 1338 —

Air

Softly in
  Softly out—
every single
  particle
this very now


— 1339 —

Pelican Care

A heartwarming
  sight:
The old pelican
  wheeling back
for the stragglers


— 1340 —

The Game

Hitler and Jesus
  and Stalin
  and Buddha
  and Mao
all played
  this game

And what a game
(aka Samsara)


— 1341 —

Rising Thoughts

Rising thoughts
  are mere suggestion
We empower them
  by attention

We fuel them
  by intent
Or—highly
  recommended—
just let them go


— 1342 —

Sex, Food, Ego

We are never
  quite as beast
  as sex
Never quite
  as body
  as food

We are never
  quite as ego
  as thought
Never quite
  as here
  as now


— 1343 —

Footprints

My Code is
  my footprint
My Absence is
  my leap
My Silence
  my choice


— 1344 —

Eyesight

Perfect vision
  means:
able to tell
one pelican
  from another


— 1345 —

Thoughts

A thought
  is mere
  suggestion—
Empower by
  Attention
and Intent


— 1346 —

History

Since senses
  report with
  a small lag
We live
  physical
  history


— 1347 —

Pynchon

Pynchon is a mine field
  I gladly traverse
Detonating word mines


— 1348 —

The Source

As long as
  thoughts
  originate
  otherwhere
We have
  a ways
  to go


— 1349 —

Letting Go

To know the
  only truth
  there is
We have to
  let go
all that we
  know


— 1350 —

Peace

Perfectly peaceful—
  Emotion-free air
on Emotion-free
  nostril


— 1351 —

Discernment

If it can be discerned
  It can be let go
This includes
  discernment


— 1352 —

Discerning

Discerning
  I discern
  the Discerner
Beer and Seer
  of Light


— 1353 —

Prison Magnet

The brain—
  that magic
  prison magnet
that jails ego
  behind
  though bars


— 1354 —

Arrogance/Insanity

The height of
  arrogance:
Earth and
  Mankind are
  the cosmic
pinnacle

The depth of
  insanity:
Earth and Man
  are the cosmic
pinnacle


— 1355 —

Lullaby

My voiceless lullaby
  sings all thoughts
  and feelings
to purest Stillness


— 1356 —

Awareness

There is no such
  thing as the mind
The mind is
  awareness
  perception


— 1357 —

Language

Methinks
  language
  is but subtle
  elaborate
perception
  quanta


— 1358 —

Anapanasati

Softly in
  Softly out
Softly in
  Softly out
This clear
  clockwork
  air


— 1359 —

The Wolfku

Wolfku:
  seventeen syllables
that catapult into
  wordlessness


— 1360 —

Morning Stillness

There’s no
  getting
  up earlier
than a 24/7
  foghorn


— 1361 —

Masks

All these
  disposable masks
littering lawns
  like used
oral condoms


— 1362 —

Meanings

All meanings
  always mean
  what they mean
in relation to
  purposes


— 1363 —

Priorities

When you’re
  starving to death
global warming
  is not a priority


— 1364 —

Beautiful Breath

One single
  beautiful
  thought-free
  breath
is worth many
  thousand
  attempts


— 1365 —

Who Breathes?

I am breathing
  not the body
for, indeed
  I body
  the body


— 1366 —

Perceptions

External perceptions
  are as much mind
as internal perceptions


— 1367 —

0.0000002% for Us

Our local sun
  does not shine
  for our benefit
She just likes
  to shine


— 1368 —

Anapanasati

When being
  nothing but air
All being
  other than air
fade and cease


— 1369 —

Primordial Truth

Touch is pre-language
Touch is pre-thought
Touch is primordially
  true


— 1370 —

My Kindle

Paging through
  my library—
I know
  I am the
richest soul
  on Earth


— 1371 —

Air

Softly in—
  Softly out
The stiller
  the stillness
the airer
  the air


— 1372 —

Log Entry

Each Wolfku
  is a log entry
  in my final
journey
  toward cause


— 1373 —

Ignorance

Experiencing time
  means willful
  blindness to
sleight-of-hand
  details     


— 1374 —

Thinking

If I truly
  let go
  of thinking
Will I ever
  find my
  way back?


— 1375 —

Meditation

Meditation is
  not about
  sweet effect
It’s a journey
  toward cause


— 1376 —

One Truth

What if there are two
  Ultimate Truths?
Then that’s the one
  Ultimate Truth


— 1377 —

Monkeys

Anapanasati breathes
  the monkey army
to peaceful slumber

Allowing awareness
  to truly discern


— 1378 —

Discerning

Discerning is
 clearly awaring
with a focus—
  a true seeing


— 1379 —

Languages

Mathematics
  is an intricate
elegant, beautiful
  Language

Language
  is an intricate
elegant, beautiful
  Mathematics


— 1380 —

Life and Death

These breathing lungs
  This beating heart
The engine room
  of this live body

Dying is
  organ by organ
sinking back into
  the sub-stratum


— 1381 —

Crossing

I cross the
  turbulent
  ocean
of images
  in my
brave boat
  Breath


— 1382 —

Images

I swim a sea
  of images
Some more solid
  than others—
say feet


— 1383 —

Dogen 2.0

The purest sitting
  The purest zen
The purest letting go:
  Just be


— 1384 —

Self vs. self

There is self
  the ego
and there is Self
  the void
only Self is real


— 1385 —

Maya

The Karmic layer
  of existence
with its causes
  and its effects


— 1386 —

True Self

I have no body
  I have no mind
I am but wind
  I am but space


— 1387 —

No Great Loss

So, if I lose
  my ego
Will I ever
  find it again?
Who cares?


— 1388 —

Food

An old mother’s
  lethal love—
If you don’t
  have seconds
you don’t
  love me


— 1389 —

Death

There is death
  up ahead
and I want
  to sail
  not stagger
into it


— 1390 —

The Past

The ultimate purpose
  of the past
is to reify the ego


— 1391 —

Discernment

Discernment is
  honed and focused
  awareness—
is incisive seeing


— 1392 —

A Bow Shot

Really, Covid-19
  is but
  a Gaia shot
across our bow


— 1393 —

Fettered

Between cell and galaxy
  we are fettered
by incomprehension


— 1394 —

Language/Energy

There is no longer
  the faintest doubt:
Language energizes
  my mind  


— 1395 —

Church Organ

The brain is a
  trillion-keyboards
  church organ
playing mind
  vibrations

The stillness of mind
  when it chooses to
vibrates along
  and listens

The stillness of mind
  when it chooses to
retains its
  perfect stillness

The stillness of mind
  when it chooses to
departs the brain
  forever


— 1396 —

Body View

We view the world
  from inside
  our cage—
We sure seem to
  prefer that view


— 1397 —

Karma

Karma is older than
  and holds sway over
Catholic confession


— 1398 —

Desperation

Decisions made
  in desperation
are seldom, if ever
  right ones


— 1399 —

Samadhi

When the breath
  is as loud
  as a foghorn
Concentration
  is just fine


— 1400 —

Question

Do greed, hatred
  and delusion
exist elsewhere
  in the universe?

Or is it just Earth?


— End —