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 sixth installment.

Wolfkus 501 - 600

— 501 —

Descartes

The Cartesian equation
  these shallow days:
I eat, therefore I am

I buy/I own/I greed
I shop/I drive/I watch
I fuck/I rule/I kill
I __*, therefore I am

*insert single-syllable verb of choice


— 502 —

Snails

Walking after the
  brief shower
turning suicidal
  snails around


— 503 —

Think

The true trouble
  with the mind
  is that you think
  that you think
what it thinks


— 504 —

Focus

When the entire
  universe
co-focuses on
  truth
all will cease


— 505 —

The Now

To clearly see
  we must grow
  so small
we’d fit within
  this very now


— 506 —

Alphabet

The brain is not
  an alphabet
yet—amazingly
We can think words


— 507 —

Clean

Joined
  Trumpoholics
  Anonymous
am now, proudly
  thirty days clean


— 508 —

Huge

He was so huge
  he couldn’t quite
  squeeze himself
inside a single now


— 509 —

This Moment

The answers to
  all riddles
  await us
within this very
  moment


— 510 —

Entanglement

My mind—
  a miasma
  of endless
  multilayered
cross-references


— 511 —

Steeping

I steep my brain
  in imagery
My body responds
  accordingly

I steep the world
  in loving kindness
And life responds
  quite purringly

I steep the universe
  in stillness
And all that is
  responds in kind


— 512 —

Crows

Why do I frighten
  crows into flight
When eighteen-wheel
 semis do not?


— 513 —

Poetry

Some poetry gets
  tangled up in words
  and their uncertain/horrible
  meanings

Some poetry sails free
  above those things
  on the wings
  of clear image


— 514 —

Space Ship

I saw a space ship
  or, rather
  they saw me
smiled and said
  There he is


— 515 —

The Opposite

The opposite
  of hate is love
  of fear is love
  of passion is love

The opposite
  of grief is love
  of sex is love
  of water is love

The opposite
  of light is love
  of dark is love
  of language is love

  of music is love
  of sunrise is love

The opposite
  of all things
    far and near
    is love


— 516 —

Fiction

Most any fiction
  calls for the
  willing suspension
of disbelief

Some fiction
  calls for the
  unwilling suspension
of critical eye


— 517 —

Body

Why not view
  my body
as my little corner
  of the universe?

Walking:
  keeping my
  little corner
  of the universe
in motion


— 518 —

Language

I once plunged the
  dark chasm-root
  of language
malevolent and deep


— 519 —

Peace

A still mind—
  no daemons
  no thoughts
  no associations
Only peace


— 520 —

Illusion

We create the
  illusion of time
by remembering
  delusion


— 521 —

Language

Language is the bait
  the mind uses
to hook innocent
  spirit fish


— 522 —

The Ego

Don’t forget that
  bolstering
  the ego
will also
  delimit you

will tighten
  the noose

“But I am the ego!”
“Q.E.D.”


— 523 —

Selfies

Henceforth
  Selfies are no longer
  Selfies
Going forward:
  Egoies


— 524 —

Ocean

The long, lazy
  ocean-tongue
lapping sand
  serenely
content
  he smiles


— 525 —

Television

outside: green grass
  sunshine
inside: a child
  television
  test pattern


— 526 —

Thoughts

The best way
  to cut out
  bad thoughts
is to cut out
  thoughts
  altogether


— 527 —

Big Dog

White T-shirt—
big dog jumped me
  friendly like
  muddily like
Laundry time


— 528 —

The Now

We have to step
  inside
that finest
  micro-moment
  light-gate ajar


— 529 —

Love

Love is just like
  gravity
it affects us all
  inexplicably


— 530 —

Peace

And as we cling
  to the heartless
  trellis
of feelings and
  emotions

We are enslaved
  by this vicious
  saga
of feelings and
  emotions

Only Peace is
  True Joy


— 531 —

Meals

Wow, to be
  a seagull
and never have
  a home-cooked
  meal—
what a shame


— 532 —

Code

I am a breathing
  mountain
  wondering who
codified my feelings


— 533 —

Dream

In a strange dream
  a horse was
  inserting a
spiritual IV


— 534 —

Oranges

All this time
  I thought these
oranges were naval
since they cured
  scurvy


— 535 —

Books

Knowing she was
  reading his books
I read them, too
  just to skate
  with her


— 536 —

Moon

The Sun, huge
  and pale
  this morning
You’d be forgiven
  for thinking:
  “Moon”


— 537 —

Fiction

I believe that fiction
  must serve a purpose
higher than
  chronocide


— 538 —

Opinions

Opinions are
  nothing but sounds
coming from a
  certain direction


— 539 —

Amusement

For the amusement
  of Emptiness
Pain is not pain
Death is not death


— 540 —

A Kiss

Gingerly, the lips collide
  the honey of the tongue
Melts to form a glow
  a rush, a river


— 541 —

Breathing

While breathing
  might be boring
Each individual breath
  is profound


— 542 —

Opinions

Opinions:
  True ego-currency
to be defended
  to the death


— 543 —

Lies

What terrible lie
  dictates: “attractive”
What terrible
  sleight of mind


— 544 —

Brahman

Brahman is the sea
Atman is the wave
  We rise
  We crest
  We return


— 545 —

Fragmentation

The subtle trick
  of the lasting lie
is the fragmentation
  of truth


— 546 —

Anapanasati

I have never drawn
  this breath before
nor have I ever
  exhaled it


— 547 —

Delusion

In this world of
  delusion
The things we
  remember
never happened


— 548 —

Anapanasati

Air—silk on my nostrils
  breathing in
silk on my nostrils
  breathing out


— 549 —

True Story

When God made
  Life on Earth
Life asked:
  What do we eat?
He said:
  Each other


— 550 —

Numbers

One great quandary
  in life is this lie
  of overwhelming
numbers


— 551 —

Chemistry

Life: this
  intricate
  complex
  convoluted
  chemical
Delusion


— 552 —

Pacific

Today, the Pacific
lived up to its name
and behaved like
  a lake


— 553 —

Solitude

Late in life
  I have found
a perfect wife
  and her name is
Solitude


— 554 —

Happiness

Have you ever
  seen a lotus
evaporate
  from sheer
  happiness


— 555 —

Blame

When you’re done
blaming everybody else
buy yourself
  a good mirror


— 556 —

Sexless

One of the greatest
  features of old age
is very few thoughts
  of sex


— 557 —

Certainty

Another cannot
  give you certainty
only You can
  dis-cover


— 558 —

Repetitive

An amazing word:
  Repetitive
It is precisely
  what it means


— 559 —

Good Heart

A heartfelt happiness:
knowing what is right
then doing what is right


— 560 —

Lattice

Thoughts
  breed thoughts
  breed feelings
  breed thoughts
into a mesh—
confounding
  my view


— 561 —

Evaporation

To me
  ultimately
True happiness
  would be
Evaporation


— 562 —

Cat Glow

My cat can make
  her cells glow
“Teach me,” I said
“Sure,” she said
and then did


— 563 —

Ladder

I scaled the ladder
  of language
all the way
  up into
  wordlessness…


— 564 —

Hate

Hold sacred this truth:
  The Hater always
suffers more than
  The Hated


— 565 —

Karma

I certainly did not
  deserve this
Someone must have
  hacked my karma


— 566 —

Survive

Our greatest
  existential
  conundrum—
Getting out of life
  alive


— 567 —

Experiment

This Earth is
  nothing but a
  Mammoth
  Experiment
gone very wrong


— 568 —

Sunlight

The rising sun
  explodes the
  flock of seagulls
into glittering snow


— 569 —

Sunlight

The rising sun
  explodes the
  waves
into sheer, white
  frothy happiness


— 570 —

Annoyance

The sea wasn’t
  quite angry
  this morning
just seriously
  annoyed


— 571 —

Rules

New rule:
  I will no longer
  make up all
  these rules
for me to live by


— 572 —

Precious Gift

The most precious
  gift you can offer
  anyone
is your attention


— 573 —

Seals

Barking seal(s)—
  so, so desperate
  for a mate
for t(he)y cannot
  masturbate


— 574 —

Remainder

Once you let go
  of the ego
All that’s left of you
  is compassion


— 575 —

Gravity

Gravity—
  the wish to be One
Expansion—
  the wish to be Many

Gravity
  wishes to be One
Expansion
  wishes to be Many

Thus—
  the Universe
breathes in
  breathes out
breathes in
  breathes out
breathes in
  breathes out…


— 576 —

Growth

To truly love
  disinterestedly
I have to outgrow
  Ulf the Wolf

(I have to let go
  of Ulf Wolf)


— 577 —

Pieces

God crystallized
  fell, shattered
into trillion
  trillion, trillion…
Pieces


— 578 —

Love

I am sure of this:
  You never love
a what
  You always love
a who


— 579 —

Steps

At my age
  every step
  a warning
Every step
  one closer
to Death

At my age
  every step
  a promise
Every step
  one closer
to Death

At any age…


— 580 —

Modern Empathy

Well, he said
  That’s enough
  about me
Here is what I think
  about you


— 581 —

Score

A congregation
  of pigeons
or a very boring
  music score

A congregation
  of pigeons
or a very lively
  music score


— 582 —

Love

When love is
  not about sex
it’s all about
  the loved one’s
happiness


— 583 —

Spindrift

The spindrifts leap
  and stream like
  happy bride’s veils
teasing the
  sunlit wind


— 584 —

Divine Slander

Religious wars
give God a bad name
God should sue
  for slander


— 585 —

Life vs Death

While Life is said
  to be motion
Stillness cannot
  be said to be
Death


— 586 —

Karma

Karma—the most
  amazing
Engineering Feat
  in the Universe


— 587 —

Letting Go

Were all life
  on Earth
truly to let go
  the Earth
  would cease
to exist


— 588 —

Peace

True peace—
  freedom from
  Hunger
  Thirst
  Sex
  Greed
  Hatred
  Flesh
Smartphones
Bad News


— 589 —

Attention

I saw a spaceship once
  Why isn’t that
  always
foremost in my mind?


— 590 —

Unfair

The game
  here on Earth
  is rigged
Why else would
  one being
  kill another


— 591 —

Expressive

My dog’s
  facial reaction to
—No treat right now:
—All right,
    starve me then


— 592 —

Chemistry

The Chemistry
  between them
is, of course
  by its nature
  Chemical


— 593 —

Earth Time

Geologically
  the Buddha
  spoke to us
just
  a minute ago


— 594 —

Secession

Pacifica: California,
Oregon, Washington
  —Secede!


— 595 —

Anapanasati

Unfroth your mind
  and let all
thought-sediments
settle—
  Breathe in
  Breathe out


— 596 —

Human Feeling

Pleasure and pain
  reside in the brain
transcend it for
  Heavenly peace


— 597 —

Atman vs Brahman

A few quadrillion
  quadrillion Atmans
think themselves to
  be Brahman

But does Brahman
  think itself to be
all these thinking
little Atmans?


— 598 —

Seventeen

If you can’t say it
  in seventeen
  syllables
It’s not worth saying


— 599 —

Samadhi

In still water
  thought-fish
  slow then fade
Residue settles
All is peace


— 600 —

Time

The past is nothing
  but a symphony
  of echoes
in the present


— End —