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 tenth installment.

Wolfkus 901 – 1000

— 901 —

Shackles

The size of
  the Universe—
It is intended
  to intimidate

The smallness of
  the Electron—
It is intended
  to overwhelm

The cosmic scope of
  the Mystery—
It is intended
  to shackle

Our very urge
  to resolve this—
It is intended
  to misdirect

For in letting go
  of the Question
lies the Answer—
  In letting go
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


— 902 —

Ego and the Big Huge

You cannot retain
  the Ego
and fathom
  the Truth
concurrently

The Ego intellect
  is far too puny
to embrace
  the Big Huge


— 903 —

Earthlings

Earthbound marionettes
  thirst and hunger—
the strings
  sex—
the hidden hands


— 904 —

Feelings

Feelings, that
  wonderful bridge—
One foot in body
  and one foot
  in mind


— 905 —

Mind Air

My mind does not
  need oxygen
  to breathe
Clear, still light
  that will suffice


— 906 —

Beginnings

Life did not begin
  way back when
It constantly begins
  here and now


— 907 —

Names

If Tim is short
  for Timothy
why isn’t Jim short
  for Jimothy?


— 908 —

Word Wall

All these despairing
  tongues
Striving to share
  the Truth—
thwarted by
  Language


— 909 —

Painting

The world is
  a painting
we are always
  moment by
  moment
painting


— 910 —

Ferris Wheel

Stars are still forming
Lives are still rising
  Permanent
  Impermanence


— 911 —

Body-Mind

The body is
  coagulated mind
while mind is
  body distilled


— 912 —

Eternal Mind

While Mind is eternal
Its circumscriptions
  and constrictions
  are not


— 913 —

Views

The refracted light
No, we see it differently
The filter of selves


— 914 —

Thinking

He savors the brain
Relishing nerve and muscle
as if heroin


— 915 —

Infatuation

Then he approached me
Mara in his female guise
And how I loved her


— 916 —

Laughter

Sex and sleep
  arms crossed
Tall and proud they
  laugh and laugh
at our futile swim


— 917 —

Ego versus Soul

The ego craves
  attention
While the soul
  anonymously
  attends

The ego craves
  and thirsts for
  love
While the soul
  anonymously
  loves

The ego takes
  takes, takes
While the soul
  anonymously
  gives, gives
  gives

The ego loudly
  loudly demands
While the soul
  quietly provides

The ego river
  flows inward
While the river
  of the soul
  flows out


— 918 —

Siren

The mind is the
  ultimate Siren
Best policy:
  Stand back
  Don’t feed


— 919 —

Time

In any single
fleeting moment
  everything
is still and finite


— 920 —

Angels

Gabriel is not my
  guardian angel
He is my Bewinged
  Self


— 921 —

Ever-Now

For there to be
  a Past
in Ever-Now
We would have
  to invent it


— 922 —

Golden Shackles

It is we who stitch
  each now together
to a necklace
  called the past


— 923 —

Timeless

Before the beginning
  is Now
After the end
  is Now
Now
  is Now


— 924 —

Peace

True peace means
  the fading away
of all lust
  all craving
  all shackles

True peace means
  the fading away
of all past
  all hatred
  all future


— 925 —

Egocide

A beautiful sitting
  means an
  equally
  beautiful
Egocide


— 926 —

Sex

If Death is
  the Grim Reaper
Then, surely
  Sex would be
the Grim Seeder


— 927 —

The Game

We are ensnared
  within
for the sole
  purpose
of puzzling
  our way out


— 928 —

Language

On my path
  toward Nirvana
Language
  is always
  struggling
to catch up


— 929 —

Meditation

I sit and quietly
  extract non-me
from the mire of
  me, mine


— 930 —

Weapons

Of all the weapons
  our jailors wield
our amnesia
  is the vilest


— 931 —

Eleven

Mahayana to
  Theravada:
Yeah, but ours
goes to eleven


— 932 —

Raccoon

I saw a dead
  raccoon
this morning
  smiling
as if in a
  nice dream


— 933 —

Information

When did
  information
  metamorphose
into this
  putrid cesspool?


— 934 —

Lies

The liest lie
  of them all
is the past—
  all those
lost-forever
  nows


— 935 —

Songs

That life is not
  worth living
that does not
  leave songs
  behind
when it leaves

Bach—the livingest
  life ever lived
for no one left more
  songs behind


— 936 —

Breathing

As for our
  expanding
  universe
One day God
  will inhale
  again


— 937 —

Reach

The Earth reaches
  into air as tree
I reach
  into air as body


— 938 —

Anapanasati

I sit with ease
I breathe with ease
My body and I
in blissful peace


— 939 —

Tentacles

I am a Portuguese
  man-of-war—
tentacles a million
  years long


— 940 —

Doré

Sort of a Doré sky
  this morning
Expecting God
  any minute


— 941 —

Theology

In a bottomless pit
  they sit arguing
the color of the sky


— 942 —

Little Egos

A covey of selves
Layers and layers of selves
Ever filtering


— 943 —

Truth

Every
  philosophical
  edifice lies
Only silence
  does not

Every physical
  edifice lies
Only emptiness
  tells the truth


— 944 —

Feet

Can non-existent
  feet
tread a non-existent
  past
I don’t think so

Can non-existent
  feet
walk a non-existent
  future
I doubt it

Do non-existent
  feet
dance a non-existent
  present
yeah, they might


— 945 —

Languages

The mind is
  an excellent
  translator
He speaks
  both Brain
  and Spirit


— 946 —

Infinity

The difference
  between
near infinite
and infinite
  is infinite


— 947 —

Scratching Maverick

That dog—I’m not sure
  I’m making his day
but he sure is
  making mine


— 948 —

Greed

It is interesting
  that most election
  promises
cater to greed


— 949 —

Body

Each day I don
  this flesh and bone
this too tightly
  fitting overcoat


— 950 —

Getting Dressed

Each morning I don
  this construct
  this mind
  this body
  this universe


— 951 —

Karma

Karma is
  self-imposed
  self-enforced
  self-executed
  self-endured


— 952 —

Infinity

Really, there can
  never be
such a thing as
  the near
  infinite


— 953 —

Infinity

Near infinity
  is as far from
  infinity
as not so near


— 954 —

Truth

This morning
  I gleaned
reflected truth
  through the
  light green
thicket of mind


— 955 —

Slaughter

At the base
  of Truth Mountain
Man slaughtering Man
  for the right of Path


— 956 —

Garments

Every so often
  my breath dons
  internal garments
grows gills and swims

But once in a while
  my breath dons
  external garments
grows wings and flies


— 957 —

Quite Still

I loosen mind knots
I pick mind locks
I sit quite still
  and I let go

Leaving the stage
  of emptiness
and all its
  appearances
behind


— 958 —

Waking

When you awake
  do not don
  the previous
or any other day


— 959 —

Disentanglement

At times
  meditation
strikes me as
  a cosmic
disentanglement


— 960 —

Water

The wave
  does not know
  the Ocean
while the Ocean
  always knows
  the wave

The wave
  does not love
  the Ocean
while the Ocean
  always loves
  the wave


— 961 —

Big Bang

It doesn’t matter
  how small
  you make it
It’s still
  something
from nothing


— 962 —

Rulers

There is state-run
  television—
then there is
  television-run
  state


— 963 —

Mind

My mind is like
  an eager puppy
It won’t sit still
  for a second


— 964 —

Ignorance

Behind the curtain
  of Ignorance
there, in utter stillness
  hides Cause


— 965 —

Sex

If Death is
  the Grim Reaper
Then, surely
  Sex is
the Grimmer
  Seeder


— 966 —

Meditation

Reach a space
  wider, stiller
and less crowded
than that of
  inside skull


— 967 —

Anapanasati

Given peace
  and time
mind sediments
  settle
waters clear
  sky above


— 968 —

Union

I’m not only
  unifying
  my mind
I’m unionizing it


— 969 —

Evil

From Pluto
  Earth is so small
that Evil would not
  even fit on it


— 970 —

Karma

Obviously, Karma
  is a self-tracking
  self-policing
system


— 971 —

Hells

There is no hell
  more private than
  more hellish than
a guilty conscience


— 972 —

Spring Cleaning

Airing out my mind:
  Shedding one
  fictitious self
after another


— 973 —

Karma

Karma is
  a mercy-less
  self-judicial
  self-punishing
self-app


— 974 —

Jhanas

The Rupa Jhanas
  are not states
  to attain
they are glories
  to shed


— 975 —

Grace

The fall
  from Grace—
  spectacular
The rise
  toward Grace—
  even more so


— 976 —

Ice

I’m taking all
  the right steps
atop the ice
Praying I’ll soon
  fall through


— 977 —

Karma

Karma is a
  self-judicial
  self-punishing
  self-rewarding
app


— 978 —

Emptiness

How do you locate
  a pure emptiness?
Only with its
  agreement

How do you shackle
  a pure emptiness?
Only with its
  agreement

How do you release
  a pure emptiness?
Only with its
  agreement


— 979 —

Karma

Karma is a lot less
  forgiving than
your neighborhood
  Confessor


— 980 —

Nature

I am the purest
  emptiness
I can be of no
  other nature


— 981 —

Overwhelm

The Cosmos
  serves but
one purpose:
  Utterly to
  overwhelm
us all


— 982 —

Time’s Cage

Neither the Future
  nor the Past
unlocks the gate
  only the Present


— 983 —

Evil

Seen from Pluto
  the Earth
  is so small
that Evil
  wouldn’t
  fit on it


— 984 —

Pigeon

I hear a very
  confused pigeon
flirting with
  a distant foghorn


— 985 —

Emptiness

Sensing Emptiness
  through layers
  and layers
is known as
  Delusion

Sensing Emptiness
  directly and
  clearly
is known as
  Nirvana


— 986 —

Social Media

Unless you’re the
  crest of a wave
You won’t be read
  you’ll just be
  ocean


— 987 —

Grammar

If a verb
  takes an adverb
then shouldn’t
  a noun
  be called
a jective?


— 988 —

Anapanasati

My mindfulness
  of breathing
  polishes
my investigative
  lens


— 989 —

Submerged

I walk the bottom
  of heaven’s ocean
dreaming of a life
  on land


— 990 —

Language

Language stirs
  and energizes me
I rise and laugh
  and reach for words


— 991 —

Gastronomy

Gastronomy—
  exploring the
  outer regions
of very fine food


— 992 —

Memories

Memories are
  blueprints—
Add conducive
  conditions and
Buildings rise


— 993 —

Asleep

Cloaked in coats
  of a thousand
dreams and
  failures
Atman abides
  asleep


— 994 —

Silence

Never forget—
  the truth lies
beyond language
  Silence holds
the answer


— 995 —

Viewpoint
  aka Birth

Descending
  into flesh
we vow only
  to perceive
through its
  senses


— 996 —

Chasm

Even the smallest
  gap
between you and
  universe
is infinite


— 997 —

Atman

Atman
  though one small
  step away—
at infinite remove
  from Brahman

Brahman

Brahman—
  the always
  unremoved
will never
  ever forsake
  Atman


— 998 —

Certainty

I experienced proof
  that experience
is reliable proof


— 999 —

Release

To leave your prison
Let your many distances
fade into the light


— 1000 —

A Whisper

He spoke to me once
  a whisper
faint from nowhere
  Nirvana, he said


— End —