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 ninth installment.

Wolfkus 801 - 900

— 801 —

Curtains

Language is just
  another curtain
between the spirit
  and her truth

Meaning is just
  another curtain
between the spirit
  and her truth

Beauty is just
  another curtain
between the spirit
  and her truth

Breathing is just
  another curtain
between the spirit
  and her truth


— 802 —

Morning

A cloudless sky
  a young breeze
two deer on the beach
  morning perfection


— 803 —

Cancer

Is the Earth
  looked upon
by the Universe
as a cancerous
  cell?


— 804 —

Hunter-Gatherer

Hunting for
  parking space
Gathering coupons
  filling the cart—
Checkout


— 805 —

Language

This dawn I sail
  the jolly boat
  of word
out on the sea
  of language

This morn I dance
  the jolly dance
  of word
out in the field
  of language

This day I flex
  the jolly wings
  or word
across the sky
  of language

This eve I drink
  the jolly draught
  of word
and fall asleep
  in language

This night I dream
  the jolly dream
  of word
alive and well
  as language


— 806 —

Zazen

When you sit
  very, very still
even the finest
  movement
sings out


— 807 —

The Word

Verily, I say unto Thee:
  The World is but a
Bemusement Park

—Wolfku 4:16


— 808 —

Zazen

Just sitting—
  no past
  no future
  no self
  no story—
what a relief


— 809 —

Michelangelo

Unearthing truth
  is much like
  sculpture—
removed the bits
  that don’t
  belong


— 810 —

The Wolf

I have not been
  this particular
  Wolf
far longer than
  I have been

I will not be
  this particular
  Wolf
far longer than
  I have been

I am this particular
  Wolf
far less than the
  briefest
Cosmic blink

(I am this particular
  Wolf
far, far less than
a millisecond)


— 811 —

Conviction

What could possibly
  delimit the Spaceless
say, a sentient being

What tentacles could
  possibly rein him in
What barriers hold him

Other than a
  conviction—
I am walls
I am doors
They are all
  closed

Or is it greed
  that fake need
to survive
  that drives us
  apart
—warring


— 812 —

FYI

Just for the hell
  of it
All my Wolfkus
  are seventeen
  syllables


— 813 —

Sex

Sex is a fair
  euphemism
for temporary
  insanity


— 814 —

Life

I look for demarcations
  and cut-off points
where none are to
  be found

For life is life ls life
is limitless country
  in all directions


— 815 —

Microbes

Should microbes
  be sentient
they are also
  smart enough
not to let on


— 816 —

Dates

Energy-wise
  fresh dates
  are Nature’s
little nuclear
  devices


— 817 —

Koestler

Reading Koestler
  is like having
  a man on the
  ground
in days gone by


— 818 —

Nightmare

The twisting and
  agonizing quagmire
of the low-octane
  nightmare

where vaguely
  impossible
  situations
debouch into
  mayhem


— 819 —

Relief

Finally, there is
  just me—
no past, no future
no story, no plot


— 820 —

Cool Weather

CC* has the world’s
  greatest A/C
Stretching all the way
  to Japan

*Crescent City, CA       


— 821 —

Babies

Other people’s
  babies
  are the greatest
Absolutely no
  downside


— 822 —

Anapanasati

Each inhale trawls
  a trillion subtle fish
Every exhale
  sets them free


— 823 —

Atman/Brahman

Each atom is
  populated by
billions of
  very small
  beings

Each planet is
  populated by
billions of
  fairly small
  beings

Each galaxy is
  populated by
a few
  very large
  beings

Each universe is
  home to one
out-of-this-world
  ginormous
  being


— 824 —

Bats

The secret of bats:
  They are small
  radar-angels
in leather jackets


— 825 —

Choir

Hunger is the
  silent song
of the intestinal
  fauna choir


— 826 —

Anatomy

Me is a
  vast basket
Filled to the brim
  with all these
  non-me sundries


— 827 —

History

Here’s an odd thought:
  Should not
  a woman’s history
be called
  herstory?


— 828 —

Silent Air

I shall dress
  wordlessness
  in words—
one silent syllable
  at a time

Then I’ll dress
  wordlessness
  in air—
silently breathing in
  breathing out


— 829 —

The Story

Words brought
  back to life
and given
  a role
in their hunger
  for meaning


— 830 —

Commas

All this punctuation!
  I don’t know—
whether I’m comma,
  or going…


— 831 —

There is life within
There is life without
  My breath lies
on the border


— 832 —

Sharks

Just like sharks
  fooling death
Our thinking minds
  remain
in constant motion


— 833 —

April

Was too late
  to join
the marching band
  had to join
the apriling band


— 834 —

Body

I think
  first and
  foremost
the body is
  a sensation
  factory


— 835 —

Opinions

We should
  never ever
grant our pet
  opinions
the status
  of fact


— 836 —

Giving

Your most valuable
  commodity
  and gift
is your attention


— 837 —

Drowning

Deep within
  the Universal
  Ocean
No sign of
  surface
No Air


— 838 —

Emptiness

Empty space—
  an absence
  of all things
Emptiness—
  an absence
  of space


— 839 —

Air

My air-greedy lungs
  like newborn
  sparrows
clamor to be
  fed, fed, fed


— 840 —

Sati

Attention not only
  perceives
it also discerns
  and
understands


— 841 —

Sati

Pure attention
  illuminates
  unveils
  reveals
  discerns
  understands


— 842 —

Space

I am a vast
  glorious space
that perceives
  discerns and
  understands     


— 843 —

Trapped

Our Universe
  keeps us in line
by complexity
  and distraction

Once we regain
  our focus
  and attention
we will see
  the way out


— 844 —

Sati

Attention
  focused
  sustained
will evaporate
  (obscuring)
layers


— 845 —

Clarity

Thought-free air
  clean and true
Anapanasati at its
  holy best


— 846 —

Tragedy

Today’s White House
  I’m afraid
cannot but bring
  to mind the
Keystone Cops


— 847 —

Fooled

Bamboozled means
  being fooled
  into planting
bamboo in
  your backyard


— 848 —

Time

Time is but
  a bunch of
  dots
we’re the ones
  doing all
  the connecting


— 849 —

Bottom Line

The fundamental
  problem with
  getting out of
  this trap
is us considering
  there is a trap
  to get out of


— 850 —

Perspectives

As Emptiness
  I am immortal
As a Somethingness
  I am not


— 851 —

To Be

Human am-ness
  and
Spiritual am-ness
  are
Galaxies apart


— 852 —

Views

Evil is always right
  Goodness is always
ready to compromise


— 853 —

Limited View

We walk
  the narrow path
  of the senses
Little pleasures
Little pains


— 854 —

Solitude

Long ago
  I found myself
  a lovely wife
Her name is
  Solitude


— 855 —

Infinity

Infinite space
  is that space
in which we are
  always
  at the center


— 856 —

Divine Division

God chopped up
  Emptiness
into little bits
and called them
  Stillnesses

Thus we’re a
  trillion
  trillion
  trillion
Individual
  Stillnesses


— 857 —

Choice

When given the choice:
Either the many or few
Seek and love the few


— 858 —

Poetry

At dawn she rises
  alive with none
  of this world
Come dusk she has died


— 859 —

Shadows

Indeed
  the shadow cast
  by feather
is as deep
  as that
  cast by steel


— 860 —

Sunlight

Layers
  of delusion
evaporate in
the warm glow
  of wisdom


— 861 —

Evil Science

The engineer
  who invented sex
was not
  a benevolent one


— 862 —

Cumulation

Crack the secret
  of one particle
and you’ll have
  solved
  the Universe


— 863 —

Child Summer

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


— 864 —

Same Difference

As Illusion—
  Fourteen billion years
and
  The blink of an eye—
as long


— 865 —

Stillness

The stiller your flame
The truer your light
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 866 —

Divine Boredom

Life is a
  lamentable
  consequence
of God’s eternal
  boredom


— 867—

Divine Boredom

Life is a
  lamentable
  testament
to God’s eternal
  boredom


— 868 —

Stillness

Only within
  true Stillness
do subtle
  mental
  movements
  manifest


— 869 —

Stillness

The stiller you sit
The truer you feel
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth

The stiller your mind
The truer your view
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 870 —

Stillness

The stiller your breath
The truer your space
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth

The stiller your voice
The truer your speech
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 871 —

Stillness

The stiller your thought
The truer your word
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth

The stiller your heart
The truer your love
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 872 —

Stillness

The stiller your blood
The truer your dream
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth

The stiller you are
The truer you be
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 873 —

Stillness

The stiller your feet
The truer your path
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth

The stiller your tune
The truer your song
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 874 —

Stillness

The stiller your sail
The truer your wind
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth

The stiller your sea
The truer your peace
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 875 —

Stillness

The stiller your day
The truer your sun
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth

The stiller your night
The truer your moon
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 876 —

Stillness

The stiller your life
The truer your death
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth

The stiller your death
The truer your life
for Stillness
  In Truth
  Is Truth


— 877 —

The Soul

How did we
  cordon off
a piece of
  emptiness
and deem it
  the soul?


— 878 —

Interference

The body obscures
  the Truth
by running sensual
  Interference

The mind obscures
  the Truth
by running delusional
  Interference


— 879 —

Le Tour de Sud

Lovely pelotons
  of honking
  geese
wing their way
  for warmer
  weather


— 880 —

Divine Trouble

God’s having trouble
stuffing the Universe
back into the bottle


— 881 —

Joy and Happiness

That wonderful
  release
  is a feeling
we humans
  think of as Joy

And that profound
  relief
  is a feeling
we think of
  as happiness


— 882 —

Anapanasati

True happiness
  insulated by mind
seeps through in
  meditation


— 883 —

Saints

Our planet’s
  cloak of darkness
has sprung
  many a leak—
we call them Saints


— 884 —

Amazing

The greatest
  engineering feats
  in the universe:
Sex and Karma


— 885 —

Stillness

Only in
  deep Samadhi
do subtle
  mental
  movements
  manifest


— 886 —

Orphan Truth

These days
  Truth has become
a homeless orphan
  roaming
  digital streets


— 887 —

Time

The present
  is casting
  shadows
that we
  in our blindness
call the past


— 888 —

The Soul

How did we
  whittle free
that sliver of
  emptiness
we deem
  the soul?


— 889 —

Fire

Is there such a thing
as a fire not burning
but holding its breath?


— 890 —

Passion

Examining closely
  I find that
Passion is Craving
  on steroids


— 891 —

Question

Some days I ask myself:
  Is the body simply
  solidified mind?


— 892 —

Clever Mind

My mind paints
  without paint
Screams
  without voice
Hides to avoid
  my searchlight


— 893 —

Awareness

A wide awareness
  sinks and settles
deep within
  to wider
  deeper


— 894 —

Labels

A common fallacy—
  Naming it
does not mean
  Understanding it


— 895 —

Labels

Naming them is
  our vain
Sisyphean effort
to make things
  persist

Since words
  to retain
their meanings
  will cling to
illusory referents


— 896 —

Homesick

Whenever
  I look up
at the night-sky
  stars
I feel childhood
  homesick


— 897 —

Stilling Mind

We still the mind
  by giving it space
and putting it on
  a diet


— 898 —

Water

Whispering water
Trillions of white molecules
Venturing ashore


— 899 —

Mystery

Amazing mystery:
  No Earth
  No Star
  No Sky
am I, yet:
  I am


— 900 —

Humanity

I’m amazed that
  the human
  condition
holds so true
  for all of us


— End —