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Adumbrations

Special thanks to: Xochitl Flores: Illustrations Cira Alicia Flores: Graphic Design Sharla Sanchez: Book Layout

First Edition 2013 Xicoco Shamanic Arts All rights reserved. For more information visit our website: www.koyotetheblind.com or email: Koyote93@me.com ISBN 978-0-9889470-2-3

Contents
Introduction Beginnings Glimpses of Self Sangha Life Death Yearnings Transformation Beloved Index 1 10 20 36 48 68 80 96 116 137

Introduction
A friend and reader of my blog once asked: whats a Salvadorian got to do with haiku? His jest prompted an honest look within the process Id been going through since one day, sitting at a corner cafe watching the beautiful universe parading before me in her pretty skirts and tingly laughter raining all around, I was waiting for my brother to pick me up. My car waited broken down somewhere close and I smiled, elated at all the treats the world was exhibiting for me. Stuck where I was, it was as if the Goddess was taking up all these shapes, lights, sounds and smells to tease me, or to show whatd be in store for me. As I sat there, waiting for my brother, basking on the sacred sensual beauty the sunset brought, I pulled out a pen and a piece of paper to scribble the moment: Beauty abounds here. I will drink it all in joy, when my brothers here. It was more than a snapshot of the moment in short prose. Writing this haiku at this moment opened up a window inside, showing me not only the beauty outside but something intimate about my own connection to it. Meanings and connections began to unfold, each one with a 1

different vista of my inner world. On one hand, I was enjoying the beauty surrounding me. On the other, I was running in my mind the usual chatter of the linear mind. Chief in this chatter was the expectation of my brother showing up and, knowing him, sitting down with me to enjoy the pretty women walking by. It was upon writing the haiku that the mental chatter and the perceptual stream coalesced in a single unit of time, uniting the inner with the outer and revealing something about my relationship with my inner being. But, who is my brother? He is on a mundane level Carlos, the younger brother who has been connected to my path since he was little and showed unusual interest in the Teachings along with me. The brother as an archetype, however, is every other member of the Sangha, the community composed of the brothers and sisters who form the body of God and work tirelessly to manifest in this horizontal plane the sacred presence of the divine. On an internal level, my brother is my Other Self, that part of myself who dwells in the dark even as the self stands as the center of my experience. How can I be complete and drink of the cup of the Goddess if my brother is not here? Can this haiku be speaking of the Bodhisattva Vow? Partly. If we conceive of the brother as All Sentient Beings, or even as the 2

Other of Lacanian psychoanalysis,1 then we could say, as the Bodhisattva does, that nothing is truly divided beyond that point where the vow is taken and therefore no liberation is possible while part of the body of God is in the bondage of suffering. However, the haiku itself dispels such association with the Bodhisattva; for the issue at hand is not liberation, but joy as a libation of beauty. It is about enjoyment, not about escapism. The haiku implies the immersion in experience, the embodied enjoyment of life in all its facets. It also implies the current perception of reality as full of beauty. What then, is to happen when my brother gets here? The delayed promise is a consummation beyond the external enjoyment of what surrounds the divided me in the here and now. While writing this haiku, these elements became evident to me, all at once, unifying multiple folds of philosophical meaning and personal significance. I learn from each haiku as it shows me a tiny opening into the laws of my own inner universe. Being simplicity itself, each singular snapshot of a haiku allows the gentle
1 To French Philosopher and Psychoanalyst Jaques Lacan, the little other is that projected self onto others, while the big Other constitutes a radical alterity, an order of reality beyond the projections of selfakin to the objective Holy Guardian Angel of the Thelemic magician or the Nahual of Toltec mysticism.

depth of my encounter with reality to unfold in kaleidoscopic layers of feeling, meaning, and insight. Yet, each haiku remains a mere glimpse and never becomes a conclusion, a statement, a theory or a map. It is just an opening, and as such I can come back to it from time to time to see what that tiny peephole reveals now. If I come empty to look at a haiku again, more can pour through. A haiku is best approached as a glimpse into a mystery, a passing brush against the unknown. As I breathe and live, I change. With change comes not only different vistas behind the peephole, but rather a more steady attention that brings depth and refinement of the joy behind the moment. Consider a stream of clear water. If it stops flowing and moving it stagnates and inevitably becomes murky, obscuring the beauty within. The haiku remains as it always was: a singularity where the observer meets self and reality. A haiku does not change, it remains a singularity no matter how much I change. That which evolves and matures is the way in which the observer sees and assimilates, but the haiku remains as it was from the moment it was conceived. A useful haiku does not become obsolete. It is always relevant even through the changes of life. This is because a useful haiku is not about the external personality of the observer. It does not deal only with the wants and the capricious 4

nature of the identity of ego. It is, indeed, a glimpse into the very nature of the observer, into the hidden laws that connect the experiencer with the experience. This is why a haiku, which in reality was borne by the observer and written for the observer, can nonetheless serve others. If the haiku is only a glimpse into the relationship between myself and my experience, why would it be of any interest to others? All I can share here is my experience as a reader: when reading a haiku that resonates with me, regardless of who wrote it, I get a glimpse into myself because it opens up a window to myself, to my own experience. If the haiku touches on a universal theme, even if written from the writers inner experience, it will be relevant to those who resonate with the moment. A haiku is traditionally approached in English as a short stanza consisting of 17 syllables written in three lines, usually distributed in a 5-7-5 pattern. In its original Japanese form, however, the metric distribution is not syllabic. It is counted by phonetic units called on (meaning sound).2 The structure of the poem consists of
2 Some of the poems in this book were written following the English equivalent of an on, which is a mora. If so, the syllable count could seem to be off unless you count the morae. In two of the Spanish poems I opted to go with a 7-5-7 count as an experiment with a different metric.

two main images broken up by a caesura, which is a metric pause usually at the end of one of the first two lines. Finally, traditional Japanese haiku work on a topic or image connected to the seasons. While the traditional structure is followed in these haiku, the topic is not always related to nature or the seasons. Instead, the everyday ordinary moments are utilized. Daily occurrences, often ordinary but sometimes letting a hint of mystery seep through, reveal an encounter with the depths of the psyche. The haiku captures this strange presence as if incidentally, in passing, almost by mistake. The builders of Teotihuacn designed the stairs up their pyramids with steps too narrow for a straight climb. To climb the pyramid of the Sun is to walk in serpentine ways, symbolizing that the way to Truth is not a linear climb but takes a lifetime of experiences, explorations, and alleyways. We move towards the center of all while savoring life in all its facets, but always with the eye towards the top, which is also the center. The walk is serpentine, but the aim is direct. The intent is single, but it is held in the background of the consciousnessin the second attention, they would say. Each haiku is a step in this serpentine path of life. It shows in an indirect way not so much a glimpse of the center, but a hint of it. It is a foreshadow rather than a clear visual, and as such it is not so much a glimpse as it is an adumbration of what is at the 6

center of the experiencer, the observer, and of the mystery that sustains the dreamer. Whats a Salvadorian got to do with haiku? It is El Salvador the place where I learned my first and most enduring lessons, where life first met me and revealed shadows and mysteries, joys and miseries. It was in the jungle and the volcano, not in the snowy peak of gentle Japanese mountains, that nature surrounded me with the song of birds, the scorching heat of the sun, the clear dark of starry nights. It was here that the unknown rained from vast darkness unto the panic beauty of nights without electricity and the perennial presence of the Duende, the voyeuristic games of the Cipito, and the dreadful curse of the Sihuanaba. In its cities I smelled blood, touched death, and tasted static mystery. It wasnt the profound calm of zen but the torrid emotions of the human and tropical jungle that forged my joy for life, my avid desire for experience, and my sense of self. More than anything, it was in the war and the full beauty of that valley of hammocks that I came first to sense the seed of self that existed before I was born and shall endure well after this body and that country are long dissolved and forgot. That place is then my origin and therefore my end (as an Aristotelean telos, not as a tomb). In stories as in mathematics, the end is contained in 7

the beginning. The egg contains the potentiality of the being, and in the being is the solution to the puzzle of evolution. A haiku contains not only the moment experienced, but being an adumbration of the center of the one who experiences it is also a carrier of that seed that is the center. The haiku is then an adumbration of my seed. I cant see it directly, or even glimpse it, but merely intuit and foreshadow it. If you were to arrange 17 blocks in a geometric pattern with a block in the center, you can construct a swastika with those blocks. The swastika, which is not a symbol created by the nazis, stands as arguably the oldest sacred symbol. It dates back to the remote origins of the Hindustani Valley since before the beginnings of our civilization. It is the symbol of the highest force, the primal creative energy, and the seed within tantric sexual force. As such, the haiku is conceived by this Thelemic magician as a manifestation of the number 17 and, being aligned with the swastika, also a manifestation of the 1, the Fool of the Tarot, the divine seed that is the Will of God. Ultimately, I write haiku because I feel something seeping through, unclear yet palpable. Presenting them in this book is the result of the insistence of friends and colleagues who seem to find adumbrations of their own in some of the poems, and hopefully inspiration to engage in 8

their own artistic expressions. Yet, in truth, I do not know fully why I published them, how I write them, or what they show. All I can tell is that it seemed like a good idea at the time. Indeed, I truly believe that I didnt really write some of these. They were either suggested to me by the moment, when a subtle voice whispered the theme and the metric came out effortlessly or, in some strange cases, they were just given to me when waking up from a dream. The latter, I only had to have the integrity to steal them fully and write them as they appeared from the dream. These seemed to me to be of a very different quality and unlike anything I would myself write, for I had no idea at the time what they could mean or how they could relate to me or my experience. It was until later that the meaning and correspondences began to make sense and I could learn from them. I wont indicate which ones came like that. I have no ready answer as to why I wont. I only feel a sense of delicate respect for the privacy of the process of the entity who whispered them to me.

Beginnings

10

11

Creative Pause
Brand new empty book. Ready to be filled with words. Pen is full of ink.

12

New Moon
Silent Hecate. Weaving fates unseen and old. Veiled in silent void.

13

Padre
Sos la semilla que para que yo fuese dej de ser yo.

14

Embers
Warm by the campfire. Watching the embers whisper oaths of fiery storms.

15

16

Bursting
Watching the sun rise. Surrounded by mystery. Sound and light, bursting.

17

Three Paths
Three paths before me. Must be walked in harmony with brains, heart, and blood.

18

My Foundational Oath
By my foundation as a devoted servant: This life shall be pure.

19

Glimpses Of Self

20

21

Coyote
Exiled homeless fool. I am the border-crosser. Pinche coyote.

22

Whispers
I hear the whispers of gods old and forgotten. I call from the depth.

23

24

Bardo
I die in between lives, forms, days, thoughts, words and loves. I wake in the void.

25

Asshole
I just realized that if I werent an asshole I wouldnt give a shit.

26

Blind Spots
My eyes refuse me, only showing shadow lights. Blind spots hide visions.

27

The Measure
I am the measure. Between light and the senses, I interpret all.

28

Mage
Who is the great Mage? Who paints sky and ocean blue? Who dreams me this dream?

29

Planetary Existence
Surrounded by stars we move across dark abyss. Voyaging vastness.

30

Going
Void of all dogma, my truth is a pathless land. I am the going.

31

32

Old Mirror
Innocent child sees ancient demon, fierce and mad. Mirror, where was I?

33

34

35

Sangha

36

37

Waxing Moon
Dark and cold outside. The moon smiles, shy and demure. Old friends come to play.

38

Aimless
One dog, two children. Sunlight, rain, and gentle wind. Random aimless joys.

39

40

Kumiai
A community sharing life, sweat, dreams and dance. Children play and laugh.

41

Sangha
Brothers and sisters, each a star among the stars. Were for God a host.

42

Ganaco
A la gran puta cerotillo de mierda. Cmo te quiero!

43

Sun Sets
Sun sets before me. Brothers and sisters behind. Night crawls. We all go.

44

Oath Of The Kingdom


Being of Gods body, Im bound on behalf of All, as He in the Cross.

45

Waiting For Brother


Beauty abounds here. I will drink it all in joy. When my brothers here.

46

47

Life

48

49

Wet Leaves
Running late for work. Sunlight bounces off wet leaves. Silence shines off mind.

50

Confirmation
I had to see you just to make sure it is true, this beautiful dream.

51

Prueba
Al fin mi muerte ser la prueba final que he vivido.

52

Wheel
This wheel turns around. Never changing. Always new. Who sees the wheel turn?

53

54

Worn Shoes
See these old pictures. No time has passed since we were. Who wore out these shoes?

55

Wheel Of Fortune
Plans come and plans go in unmoving stream of fate. Surrender to will.

56

Shadows
This sun fails to warm shadows cast of earth and moon. Lava blood burns fierce.

57

Golden Shower
The Sun comes to pee. He urinates on us all a shower of gold.

58

Yarns
Round and round it goes, this wheel of life, mind, and all. Quite still, I revolve.

59

Credo
Nada es verdad. Todo es permitido. Haz tu voluntad!

60

Dusk
Dim shadows my eyes. Wasnt it just the other day Sun and Moon shone bright?

61

62

Dreamer
Endless mystery, the end of experience, surrounds the dreamer.

63

Blessing
God the destroyer, when He comes to see this hell, he will bless it all.

64

Espera
Para esperar he dejado de lado la esperanza.

65

Libertad
Soar sin temor. Vivir sin tener precio. Morir sin rezar.

66

67

Death

68

69

Destiny
Destiny awaits. The last word has not been said. In silence Ill die.

70

White Butterfly
The white butterfly opens up to rainbow light. Dancing up to die.

71

Joy
Death is our reward. Because only who has lived has the right to die.

72

Sleep
Not a thing to say. Silent comes the sweet repose. All that was is gone.

73

74

Warriors Death
All that begins, ends. Lets die in epic battle against the cold death.

75

Close To Home
Not a thing happens. All is illuminated. I am close to home.

76

Devils Prayer
May Death find me thus, awake and fully alive. Swelling for her kiss.

77

78

Winter Winds
Sitting on his chair. Watching stars and winter winds. Old Man waits for Death.

79

Yearnings

80

81

Poverty Vow
Empty cabinet. No phone, gas, or thing to do. Sun shines in vast night.

82

Nostalgia
Ya se fue la nostalgia. No queda nada. Ni siquiera la noche.

83

Strand
A vast loneliness. A solitary ocean. Alone with my thoughts.

84

Sonido Desgarrador
Sonido desgarrador. Ensordecedor. Silencio que no se va.

85

86

Sleepless
Hes been sad so long. Alone in his vast abode. Waiting for his dream.

87

Recuerdos
Y cmo duelen las memorias tan llenas de vasta dicha.

88

Tania
She died long ago. Yet in every tear and tale, I keep killing her.

89

Good Bye
I dont remember the sound of her voice crying soft whispering sobs.

90

Empty Pleas
Please, dont leave. Please. Please. The light of a thousand suns shines through dark abyss.

91

Cloudy Heart
That cloud rose too high. Her waters, too far away. Rain is on my face.

92

Waiting For Now


Do I wait in vain for the blessed day to come of eternal now?

93

Pillow
I woke up feeling your absence on my pillow, dreaming silent fears.

94

95

Transformation

96

97

Little Mouse
Curious little mouse. Dont you see that when you find you are also found?

98

Old Shoes
These old shoes of mine, torn, dirty from countless steps. They carry my path.

99

100

Morning Breeze
The cold breeze comes down just as the warm sun rises. Old Man wakes again.

101

Gnosis
Full Moon through the door. Like a camel through the eye of arcane needle.

102

Out Of Sleep
Eastern wind blows cold. The night births her light-bright son. Out of sleep, mind comes.

103

Floods
Angry winds cleaned all. Water floods the house again. Nothing rests. Nothing.

104

Whirlwind
Sky, Earth, mind and all. Cleansed by whirlwind around us. None here to witness.

105

106

Angel Drops
Silent, my blood flows. She drinks deep of silver cup. Leaving naught and spit.

107

When You Come


When you come to me, come with force and fire in you. Or dont come at all.

108

Karma Yoga
In the deepest dark the flame shines at its brightest. In silence we work.

109

Dancer
Dancer in the flame. Phoenix bird rising from death, as light bursts from dark.

110

Ofrenda
Doy por ofrenda un corazn de piedra que late eras.

111

112

Almost
There are times I wish I could just cry out the pain of being almost there.

113

114

Steward
Night has run its course. Lets turn off the candle lights to let the sun rise.

115

Beloved

116

117

Rainbow
Rainbow puff shines through. Useless to organic life, Id come back for you.

118

Trust
Her words carry light, blinding off all objections. Leaving only trust.

119

Autumn Wind
She danced through the night. Swirling in dark starry sky. Wind blows dry leaves off.

120

Splendors Oath
By my sacred word, I will understand all things through Her light and love.

121

Primer Aliento
Sos el aliento que tomo al despertar. El primer olor.

122

Samekh
Im in my sixties, where all men want to fuck me. Fuck me in the ass.

123

124

Victorious Oath
As all beings are one, and all opposites dissolve, I shall love all things.

125

126

Wake
Yet another wake contemplating moonless night. Sublime is Her wend.

127

Fog
Sometimes I wonder how I can see your beauty through this foggy mind.

128

Sihuet
Moon by the river. Your beauty pulls men desires to death when youre not.

129

130

Dreaming
Sun waited for me. I was dreaming of Nights kiss. Did I miss something?

131

132

Longing
How to miss Her true? Her absence permeates all, everywhere Im not.

133

Humo
Humo tus besos. Sutiles... A flor de piel. Suben silencios.

134

Suspiro Final
Sos el suspiro que me jala al morir. Mi viaje final.

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Index
English Haiku
Aimless Almost Angel Drops Asshole Autumn Wind Bardo Blessing Blind Spots Bursting Close To Home Cloudy Heart Confirmation Coyote Creative Pause Dancer Destiny Devils Prayer Dreamer Dreaming Dusk Embers Empty Pleas Floods Fog Gnosis Going Golden Shower Good Bye Joy Karma Yoga Kumiai Little Mouse 39 113 107 26 120 25 64 27 17 76 92 51 22 12 110 70 77 63 131 61 15 91 104 128 102 31 58 90 72 109 41 98

137

Longing Mage Morning Breeze My Foundational Oath New Moon Oath Of The Kingdom Old Mirror Old Shoes Out Of Sleep Pillow Planetary Existence Poverty Vow Rainbow Samekh Sangha Shadows Sihuet Sleep Sleepless Splendors Oath Steward Strand Sun Sets Tania The Measure Three Paths Trust Victorious Oath Waiting For Brother Waiting For Now Wake Warriors Death Waxing Moon Wet Leaves Wheel

133 29 101 19 13 45 33 99 103 94 30 82 118 123 42 57 129 73 87 121 115 84 44 89 28 18 119 125 46 93 127 75 38 50 53

138

Wheel Of Fortune When You Come Whirlwind Whispers White Butterfly Winter Winds Worn Shoes Yarns

56 108 105 23 71 79 55 59 60 65 43 134 66 83 111 14 120 52 88 85 135 40 114 16 78 132 62 30 112 34 100

Spanish Haiku

Credo Espera Ganaco Humo Libertad Nostalgia Ofrenda Padre Primer Aliento Prueba Recuerdos Sonido Desgarrador Suspiro Final

Illustrations

Aimless Almost Embers Devils Prayer Dreaming Dusk Going Ofrenda Old Mirror Old Shoes

139

Samekh Sihuet Sleep Sonido Desgarrador Victorious Oath Wheel Whirlwind Whispers

124 130 74 86 126 54 106 24

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