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Wolfku

I know I survived
—reliving the memory
I fear I did not

::

Kleptomania:
If it is not
  nailed down
It’s yours
  for the taking

::

Anapanasati:

My breath, like gentle
  brushstrokes
breath by breath
  by breath
it paints me happy

::

I may not choose
  what happens
But I choose
  whether it matters
  to me

::

Remove the spirit
and we’re nothing but
bone, flesh, and blood
wrapped in skin

::

The Self is nothing more
than an I’ed
  circumscribed
scope of perception

:

Empathy expands our
scope of perception:
  we literally grow

::

I can feel
  another icy piece
  of me break free
and float away

::

At eighteen I had
  thirty vinyls
  that I loved
and nearly wore out

Today I have
  three thousand CDs
  that I like—
The boy was riche

::

We are like rain bubbles
  on the water
now you see me
  now you don’t

::

Shadows:

The shadow cast
  by feather
and that cast
  by lead
are equally dark

The shadow cast
  by sorrow
is darker than
  that cast
by brooding trees

The shadow cast
  by sex
is darker by far
 than that cast
by sorrow

The shadow cast
  by lives and lives
  eternal
the darkest
  of them al

::

Nirvana:

Nirvana is easily
  explained—
It is simply
  no more nightmare

::

I read fiction
  to reignite
  the light of sanity
in my world

::

beyond the word
beyond the meaning
  of the word
lies experience

::

beyond the word
beyond the meaning
  of the word
lies true awareness

::

The girlness of girl
and boyness of boy
fade to humanness
  with age

::

Few things appear
  quite as unperturbed
as a cow grazing
  in the rain

::

After-the-rain tarmac:
  a gray, watery mirror
—I walk on clouds

::

Even the sweetest
  touch of Samsara
is nothing but a
  Nightmare

::

My breath is of both
  body and of mind—
  in and out:
a tactile light

::

We’re so busy
  keeping our bodies
    alive—
nothing but a
  smokescreen

::

The Self is nothing more
than an I’ed, circumscribed
scope of perception

:

Empathy expands our
scope of perception—
we literally grow

::

Assumption:
  We are all puppets
Question:
  Who or What
  is pulling strings

::

no matter
  what you might think
love is a poor
  substitute
for freedom

::

Samsara:

I am not trying
  to build a life—
I am trying
  to exit one

::

I am a kaleidoscope
  of brightly colored
  broken memories

shaken this way
  one day—
that way the next

::

Truth subdued
  and splintered
by opinions, opinions
  more opinions

::

Nowadays, I find
  my silence
far more eloquent
  than any word

::

I find her face
  very beautiful—
but by what
  hidden ideal?

::

For every pound
  you lose
Billions of innocent cells
  meet their maker

::

Tolstoy was wrong—
Happy families are
  all unlike
Sad ones alike

::

Viewpoints:

The human take on
  protons, electrons:
How can something
  be that small?

The Universe’s take on
  us humans:
How can something
  be that small?

::

Spoke to the sea
  this morning—
it cared nothing
 about the election

::

The joy I find
  in sitting-peace
  feels more like relief
than happiness

::

Anapanasati:

The breath—
  one fine light
  midst many others
  that one by one
expire

::

Mahayana—
Hinayana—
Opinions
Opinions
Opinions

::

If the Cubs
  can win the World Series
Surely,
  I can reach Nirvana

::

Our memories prove
  our past
But, don’t forget
they’re all
  in the present

::

Had the universe not
grown faster than light
there would be
no darkness

::

Down there:
  There is you, me,
  them, others
Up here;
  There is only up here

::

Letting the Self evaporate
  Finally
free of all these toxins

::

Autumn clouds move in
Knees ache, gums bleed
years hurry—
Life as distraction

::

This flimsy fabric
  of existence
One summer
  I danced right
  through it

::

We’re all right as long as
our getting-back-ups
equal our falling-downs

::

We can either attempt
  to align
  a trillion thoughts
or let them go

::

There’s a lot more
  going on
in the soul’s engine room
  than meets the eye

::

While true love
  is spiritual
Infatuation
  is chemical

::

After Tsongkhapa:

Those who chase
  pleasures
are insufficiently
  disillusioned
with them

::

These space ships
  do not contain aliens
they are, in fact
  aliens

::

Before emptiness
  sundered into
lo these many selves
  there was peace

::

An angel whispered:
you find the truth
  by looking
not by looking for

::

Two birds on a wire
She’s giving him
  an earful
He blinks a lot

::

Deep within the very
  heart of science
shines the big-bang
  miracle

::

A restless Pacific
  this morning—
Raging, frothing
  pounding the sand

::

A prerequisite
to stoking moral
  outrage
is morals to stoke

::

Earth is a classic case
  of God hadn’t a clue
the gun was loaded

::

I shed my body
  like a cobra his skin
this, my friends
  is true joy

::

Intuition sneaks up
  on you
  on wordless feet
and whispers: alive

::

If you despise
  everyone but yourself
You truly
  despise yourself

:

If you love
  everyone but yourself
Truly, you are nothing
  but love

::

 It rained cats and dogs
  last night
My front lawn’s a
  cat-infested kennel

::

After the rain
  many snails head
  into traffic
I turn them around

::

 If a finite Universe
  with patience
We can count all
  its atoms

::

I think Death
is probably the best
  there is
at keeping a secret

::

gray clouds rupture
  to reveal
white clouds hovering
  above
in sun dance

::

the long, lazy swell
finds the crescent sands
with a wide, white
  frothy smile

::

These syllables
are meaningless
and so are these
I must confess

::

Between the infinitely large
and the infinitely small
is there truly
  a difference?

::

I love autumn
  —mist
  —rain
Scents linger
  at ground level
and intoxicate me

::

Here’s a thought:
Take someone who
  truly loves pain
Is our Hell his
  Heaven?

::

A heartfelt word
  to friend and foe
Beware of crowds
  and where they go

::

We define ourselves
  constantly—
reifying what
  does not exit

::

We define ourselves
  constantly—
our forever shifting
  persona

::

We define ourselves
  constantly—
all definitions
  are incorrect

::

We define ourselves
  constantly
an eternally
  moving target

::

Spiders hate dew
it betrays their only
way to make a
  living/killing:
Webs

::

At my age
little pains they
  come and go
sometimes, though
  they call me home

::

Music and Art
Story and Song
Sex and Food
Sumptuous Prison Walls

::

This breath is
all the time there is
has ever been
or ever will be

::

A big bang occurs =
A scientific miracle
  happens

::

Even though you think it
  and think it often
Does not mean it is true

::

My heart banged
against my ribcage
Can I come out
Can I come out

::

The arts—
rearranging deckchairs
when we should be
  learning how to fly

::

one sun sets
a trillion suns
appear

::

The osprey soaring
  mathematically
gliding Pythagoras
  proud

::

A face: bone, flesh
blood, skin, teeth
eyes, mascara
beautiful, yes
  but why?

::

This much I know
the ultimate answer
  is knowable
  and simple

::

When the mind rises
  red like blood
    like roses
Sex is about to
  pounce

::

You clear your throat
  and spit
Is that you in the air?
  It used to be you

::

Our minds
  so incredibly beautiful
Why then
  all this suffering?

::

sun-drunk winds
  through fogless air
trees and grasses
  (and their shadows)
waving

::

The mob will always shout
  the finer voices down*
Still, they persevere

*Nailing Jesus to a cross
is as good an example
as any

::

You are a trillion
  light years tall
The universe
  the mote
  in your eye

::

An asexual alien
  on sex:
What on Earth
  are they doing?

::

Pale sun
Seals bark
Gulls glide
Waves break
Uncaged

::

Inside body
  Inside mind
Clung by Sister
  Gravity
  to this Earth

::

Inside bodies
  Inside cages
Clung by gravity
  to this Prison

::

a gray man
a gray woman
they lean on each other
  weak legs
  strong love

::

fog on skin
cold face
happy heart

::

If the universe
  is expanding
that means it is still
  breathing in

::

Were there no need
  for adverbs
There would be
  no adverbs
Obviously