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 third installment.

Wolfkus 201 - 300 

— 201 —

Light

The light perceives
nothing but light
—The boy unfurls


— 202 —

Peace

Veni
  Vidi
I left in peace


— 203 —

Clinging

Ten million little
fingers sunk deeply into
flesh: the mind grasping


— 204 —

Cessation

Time and Delusion
will cease as one


— 205 —

Books

Death will not
  come between
    me and my books


— 206 —

Earth

Earth:
  the 7.4-billion-headed
Hydra


— 207 —

Thinking

Threaten the ego
with extinction and it will
think and think and think


— 208 —

Odd Couple

We’re an odd couple,
My body and I:
Craver and
  trammeled Dreamer


— 209 —

Cause

The one thing
Science does not face:
Big Bang’s Cause


— 210 —

Exit

What exists
  exists
    to hide
      the exit


— 211 —

A Poem

A poem
  is a novel
    with acres
      of space


— 212 —

Vanity

Opinions:
  Vanity bricks


— 213 —

Sharing

Our lives
  so narrow
We share
  to broaden them


— 214 —

Thinking

We cannot think our
way out of thinking
—this is axiomatic


— 215 —

Food

If you can’t pronounce it
  you should probably
  not eat it


— 216 —

Music

The pure melody
  outshines sex
This is a profound
  blessing


— 217 —

Greed

Meconomy:
Greed-based
  Economy


— 218 —

Angel

An angel
  steps on an ant
Ant no more
Angel no more


— 219 —

Legal Action

Religious wars
give God a bad name
God should sue


— 220 —

Sky

So easily overlooked:
  Every day
  We walk through sky


— 221 —

Karma

Karma is a
  zero-sum prison
called Samsara


— 222 —

Karma

If we don’t know
  why we suffer
Then, what good
  is Karma?


— 223 —

Oak

Says the graying oak:
Ah, to be a seedling


— 224 —

Ospreys

On still wing
  they dance for me
Two ospreys


— 225 —

Gravity

Were it not for the
  constant longing
  of gravity
I would fly


— 226 —

Time

If then is now
Then now is then
World without end
—Amen


— 227 —

Death

Impermanence:
  The intimate certainty
  that one day
I will die


— 228 —

Death

Letting go of existence
does not lead to
non-existence


— 229 —

Bach

Listening closely
I could hear her sing:
“Bach is God”


— 230 —

Discipline

Discipline:
  Spiritual
  scaffolding


— 231 —

Dancing

These words
  are but ballet shoes
    as I pirouette
      down the page


— 232 —

Hunted

Osprey in flight
  Such hungry grace
Better hide


— 233 —

Joy

Life is true joy
up to its neck
in fake misery


— 234 —

Glued

The mortal fusion
of spirit with flesh
—Superglue


— 235 —

Tapestry

The weave of life
Its trillion, trillion threads
I am weave
I am thread


— 236 —

Long Way

Byways and byways
I have traveled little else
Still I arrive


— 237 —

Border

Where do I end
and You begin?


— 238 —

Samadhi

The path is clear
only when I look
with an undistracted
  focus


— 239 —

Hunger

4,000 African children
starved to death
  yesterday
Why no headlines?


— 240 —

Thirst

The human thirst for
admiration is a thirst
both deep and fatal


— 241 —

Promises

Broken promises
Unsurprising uprising
No more prison walls


— 242 —

Religions

All Religions
are but discussions
about the
  undiscussable


— 243 —

Nirvana

Above body-mind:
  Free thought
Above free thought:
  Nirvana


— 244 —

Lives

Is there a
  demarcation point
  between lives?
Or do we
  overlap


— 245 —

Greed

We live in a
greed-based
  economy


— 246 —

Fire

To toss my story
  into the fire:
<ctrl-A>, Delete


— 247 —

Horses

Wild horses
Salty spray manes
A windy day


— 248 —

Life

Man at his best
cares about all life
Man at his worst
wants to kill it


— 249 —

Procrustes

The self is a
  self-made
  Procrustean bed
of little comfort


— 250 —

Size

Nothing is so small
that you cannot
cut it in half


— 251 —

Heart

My heart left open
Rusted hinges
It is cold in here


— 252 —

Voices

Seals bark, crows argue
The fog conceals them
Voices betray them


— 253 —

Joy

Joy is our
  native condition
Let go all non-joy
  and there is joy


— 254 —

Certain

An answer arrives:
—Is it Know?
—Is it Convinced?
There is a difference


— 255 —

God

God is a spiritual
  Intelligence
Far, far greater
  than mine


— 256 —

Hush

Hush, hush roll the waves
imploring my silence
  more loudly than I walk


— 257 —

Lilies

Waiting for the sun
A lake of lilies, heads bowed
Listening for light


— 258 —

Space

Space exists
to introduce
  and interpose
Distance


— 259 —

Rain

Morning thunder
Soft and scary
Raindrops


— 260 —

Road

Pebbles
  Tarred and hogtied
Hordes of screaming
  Sycophant Wheels
Asphalt Hell


— 261 —

Ego

I wished them all well
the Ego-Flower said:
  Wish me weller
  than them


— 262 —

Words

Words are
  a springboard
to their meanings


— 263 —

Anger

I seem to have
  misplaced
  my anger engine
No great loss


— 264 —

Now vs Past

The now is so short
that our senses reach
  awareness
as what once was


— 265 —

God

Then God thought:
  I’m in this
  together


— 266 —

Crow

Crow
  baby sparrow in his beak
  chased in air
Screaming sparrow mother


— 267 —

Fear

Man, terrified of death
like a rabid dog
will bite the kindest hand


— 268 —

Approval

What forum of approval
  do you suffer?
What judge
  do you appease?


— 269 —

Prisoners

I reached their camp
to set them free
but they no longer
knew me


— 270 —

Words

Hate is love
War is peace
  Olympic quality
  Mental gymnastics


— 271 —

TV

Fresh cow dung
  in green grass
Big tongues lapping
  salt and sun
The child—Television


— 272 —

Bullets

These days
We dig God
out of bodies
 as lead


— 273 —

Agendas

All sentient beings
  have an agenda
A goal, a thirst
  a hunger
—
There are a trillion,
  trillion agendas
Rarely do they
  coincide
—
I harmonize ours
When I
  wish you well


— 274 —

Agony

How can so much
  agony even fit
upon a planet
  this small?


— 275 —

Joy

The peace we feel
when letting go
is indistinguishable
from joy


— 276 —

Seagull

The gull flew so low
her wingtip
  brushed me
a soft, feathery kiss


— 277 —

Love

A foghorn calls
A pigeon answers
Love, apparently


— 278 —

Opinions

Bitter cross-winds
Views, like dung
  defile the path:
Teachers who disagree


— 279 —

Special

I always thought
  that I was special
Now I see:
  those who helped
  were special


— 280 —

Body

The body is an idea
  gathered
  and maintained
by Gravity


— 281 —

Wall

The ego is the
highest, thickest wall
we can possibly
construct


— 282 —

Haiku

I wrap my thought
in summer paper
  pink haiku ribbon


— 283 —

Solitude

I am long and
  happily married
my wife: her name
  is Solitude


— 284 —

Wish

when we wish
  for nothing
we are finally
  complete


— 285 —

Memory

and then I spun
myself inside
  a sweet chrysalis
  of memory


— 285 —

Karma

keeping track of
  everyone’s karma:
an administrative
  nightmare


— 286 —

Counting Stars

we confuse at thousands
while God counts these
  trillions of trillions
  with ease


— 287 —

Heaven

Heaven?
  So many surprised
  and disappointed
suicide bombers
(extremist killers)


— 288—

Tongues

trees in the meadow
  unfold a thousand
  light-green tongues
to lap the sun


— 289—

Thought

a thought arises
  we have the choice:
  ignore
or slippery-slope it


— 290—

Delusion

There is an almost
  unseverable link
between beauty
  and sex

It works both ways:
  making us see
all things sexual
  as beautiful


— 291—

Daisies

the field of
  sun-swept daisies
to the bee:
  pick me, pick me
please, pick me


— 292—

Leaves

dry leaves
  tumble over themselves
  ahead of me, racing away
wind


— 293—

Hacker

I never did this
  to anyone
somebody must have
  hacked my karma


— 294—

Brahman

the one thing we share:
  the stillness
inside you
  the stillness
inside me


— 295—

Digits

ten little fingers
ten little toes
ever
  mortally
  distracting


— 296—

Breath

the first thing we do:
  we grasp the air
our final act:
  we let it go


— 297—

Birth

At birth
  the Universe expanded
  faster than light
How come, Einstein?


— 298—

Inspiration

writing turns effortless
when words drop
  out of the clouds
and bounce just right


— 299—

Creative Science

AMH*, the first
  assumption of Science
*A Miracle Happens

where

TBB* = AMH**
*The Big Bang
**A Miracle Happens


— 300—

Planet Earth

Survival in hell—
  I live: you die
  you live: I die
Zero-sum life


— End —