Origami Microchaps

 Poems 

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Cover photo:
Google Images and Mo

As a Youth:
  Uffda liked to imagine
  himself as the God
  Odin, posed with
  Ravens on his shoulders
  and wild wolves sitting
  tamely at his feet —

One problem tho:

  Uffda was deathly afraid
  of wild wolves. Maybe he
  could get by with Puppies?
  Puppies are cute and not
  likely to rip yer throat out.

      I mean, Yikes!

Uffda Thought:
  “That there Freya girl sure is
  Pretty. Maybe I can beguile
  her with my
     “Odin-Like Charm?”

“Odin-like Charm defined:”
  With ravens on his shoulders
  and wild wolves at his feet,
  Odin wielded his sword and
  the earth trembled—Ha, Ha,
  Ha! OK, maybe not wolves?
  I mean puppies can growl.

Gerr! —Kinda Scary, right?

Uffda loved Freya’s name -
  It sounded just like the mythical
  “Freyja” ——
    A goddess of love, beauty,
  fertility, sex, war, gold, seeing
  and influencing the future.

  Wow, that’s a lot of
  Really Good stuff,
            by Golly.

Uffda’s father Otis said:
  “Don’t be spending too much
  time with that there Freya
  girl, yer likely to give her the
  vapors.”
  (Uffda didn’t know what this
  meant.)

  Maybe it had to do with the
  fact that Uffda didn’t bathe
  from October through April?

  But then, no one in his village
  bathed from Oct. to April...
               Hmm ???

Intervention:

  Heleena and Freya’s mom
  announced a wedding date for
  Uffda and Freya. Everyone was
  so excited, “Oh Boy!”
Uffda was kinda scared tho...

  So he asked Otis what to do on
  his wedding night. Otis said,
  “Ah jeeze, ask yer mom will ya?”
  Heleena said,
  “Just pet her like ya do yer
  puppies, Freya will take care of
  the rest — Oh, You Bet!

Nine Months Later:
Freya was giving birth. Uffda
wasn’t allowed in the birthing
hut and ......
     he was soo relieved

“Hey, you got twins,”
the midwife called.
“Oh Boy, two male warriors,”
cried Uffda.
“No, Twin Girls!”
“Holy Cow! - “Now What?
Probably shoulda got them
there wolves after all,”
        said Uffda

•

Mo Soulis © 2022

 Click title to open micro

Cover by author:

Google image /Mo

•

Uffda *

An expression popularized by
Norwegian immigrants in Minnesota.
It translates as “Oh there” and is
typically an expression of some
degree of negativity.

Uffda can therefore be a substitute
for common obscenities, as well as
general-purpose expressions of
exhaustion, dismay, or even
positive expressions of surprise or
astonishment.

* Wikipedia - a not too good resource
for people too lazy to read history.
Or at least Google it, for cryin’ out loud.

How Uffda Got His Name *

There are two versions of how the
baby Uffda got his name:

1. The mid-wife encouraged his
mother Heleena, to push with vigor.
His mother, with great exertion
shouted “Uffda!” and out popped
a little boy. Holy Cow!

2. After he was born the midwife
held him up for his father Otis to
see him for the first time —
Otis exclaimed, “Uffda!”

* It was deemed prudent by Heleena
to go with the first version.
Stern faced, Otis, agreed.

Childhood:

Uffda loved the idea of being
descended from Viking warriors,
as Otis always reminded him.
Yet, due to the influence of his
mother, Uffda developed an
easy going attitude.

He never seemed to get too
bothered one way or another,
until Otis gave him his first
Viking hand axe. There was some
unpleasantness, you betcha!
- dogs missing tails, village children
being terrorized by a screaming
five-year-old swinging an axe over
his head, dead birds —
and a few other minor incidents.

Youth:

As a youth, Uffda matured and
learned not to get too worked up
about any of life’s travails. Yet, when
he believed someone was threatening
the safety of his family or village
he would be inclined to inflict serious
injury or death upon whomever was
offering the offense.

The villagers considered this a
totally justified response from a
descendant of Viking warriors.
Otis smilingly agreed.

When hearing villagers say, “Boy,
Ya Don’t Want to Mess with Uffda,
By Golly,” Otis felt warm all over.

As Young Man:

As Uffda grew he became somewhat
handsome. Village mothers said,
“Boy, that Uffda is lookin’ not too bad,
ya know! Their daughters agreed.
One day Helleena said, “Uffda, I believe
you have great potential to satisfy a
young woman as a husband.”

“Oh boy” thought Uffda. “If I could win
the beautiful Freya, them there village
boys would know I’m a man.”
It was right then when Uffda fell in love
for the first time — with his Potential.

But could he fall in love with Freya?
Or she with him?

*See: Tales of Uffda and Freya,
soon now. Ya Sure!

Uffda Lexicon*

Negative - Children or Teens:
“Hey, Is that Lutefisk I smell? Uffda!”

Positive - Male over Forty:
“Hey, is that Lutefisk I smell? Uffda! “

Other Confusing Expressions:
Not too bad (Pretty Good)
Not too good (Pretty Bad)
For Sure/Yaa Sure (Pretty Damn Sure)
You Bet, or Betcha (True, but not
quite For Sure)
Them there (Them/Those)
By Golly (Damn Right)

•

Mo Soulis © 2022

Click title to open microchap

Cover: Photos /images Google Images

•

Seek Truth without shame.
Let those pass who disagree —
Stand Secure, Alone.

How false this bondage,
Oh sad, deluded mortal.
Creation of mind.

Sheer winged butterflies.
They migrate thousands of miles.
Shorn of fear, they fly.

Make firm your effort.
Why shouldn’t you find It Now...
Lest you think time waits

While we are dreaming,
a voice softly whispers:
tend your First Duty.

Know all that exists
within the Soul’s Sovereignty.
God will be proved.

Now the storm has stopped,
clouds move swiftly apart -
Clear light fills the heart.

In true religion,
   discover the Real Self –
      Oh, immortal Soul.

Concentrate on High!
   To listen and introspect
      God’s power unfolds.

Do not fear the end.
    As waves return to the sea,
      Again, we are One.

Having no beliefs
     we speak from that which
       we Know — Realization!

For to live freely,
     be in life while not of it --
       Transcend the mundane.

Oh vain, foolish man,
     Longing for eternity –
       While already there.

So, to know the end,
     Vastness of Spiritual Wealth;
        Discrimination.

Ultimate being,
Remove darkness from the soul.
Reveal peace within.

As all eyes open,
who will be left to arrive?
The One who is here.

The mantra at the end of the
Heart Sutra:

Gate, Gate, Paragate,
Parasamgate –
Bodhi Swaha!

“Gone, gone, gone to the other
shore beyond, O what an
awakening, all hail!”

(Gaa-tey, Gaa-tey, Paragaa-tey,
Para-saam-gaa-tey,
Bod-hi Swa-ha!)

•

Mo Soulis © 2022

Click title to open microchap

Cover photo by Jan Keough

-

Inspired by
Journeys: Along the Way
By Leonard Foote
Whole Mind Press; Littleton, NH

Sun flying Southward
cast shadows tall as mountains —
Autumn’s light and warmth.

Unreachable shores -
moths swim in a thick still pond.
Summer nights longing.

With the unfolding
of morning leaves in stillness,
a dragon fly rests.

Remote, yet nearby,
the breathing of stars above,
rustle the evening reeds.

The leaves of Autumn
scatter on the winds of time....
My long-spent years, dreams.

Out beyond the eves,
February’s song keens through
the naked forest.

With Gods gentle breath
as though on a restless sea,
we dream time and things.

Hawks can forge mountains
in the gift of an instant -
Exploding the sun.

On a windswept pond,
a fading memory now...
Your face reflected.

Above the daytime moon
vultures sweep across the sky -
Ancient, waiting still...

Beyond dawn or dusk,
at the far edge of the world -
Hawk, Cloud, fly as One.

In silence of night,
time stirs, winds crash gently down.
My candle flame roars...

As smoke sculpts moonbeams
into braided nebulae —
Worlds, yes! - come and go.

Drifting into sleep,
as time flows effortlessly -
Calming inner fears.

Last night in silence,
while alone, I heard Thy voice -
Oh, eternal song.

Out beyond my thoughts
where I am given a glimpse -
Wonders surround me.

As time disappears
in songs of moving water’s -
My heart sings to life.

Ceaselessly roaming,
elusive of all features -
my own brief passage.

We all disappear
in the dark face of the storm -
One, now another.

When on a clear day,
the Spirits walked and Whispered -
by grace I listened.

A familiar voice
in the abandoned abbey -
Perhaps just the wind?

We cling but briefly
to the probing edge of time --
The seas rush outward.

As a child again
on the shores of time-caught seas --
Dreams and life still fly.

Reaching, without fear -
I touch bright and distant fires.
Braced against the void.

Like red falling leaves
my thoughts drift on the rain-course.
to drown, disappear.

Charts of un-sailed seas,
roads but seen in passing dreams -
line my pathway home.

Stone, red as sunset
in wind canyons of the mind -
warm my fading breath.

An old man dying,
eyes dim to the last green fields -
Unquenchable still...

•

Mo Soulis © 2021

Click title to open microchap

A late spring evening,
fireflies are coming out soon.
Look! There is one now.

Front porch, soft warm breeze,
the morning sun on my face -
might skip work today?

When the trees were felled,
how my heart ached to lose them.
Then, I saw mountains.

A rogue sunflower
sprouting in my flower box.
Should I let him live?

Soft glow at twilight -
Seems to light up my garden.
Moon flowers blooming.

Majestic forest
reflected on ice smooth lake -
the art of silence.

-

Quick, little chipmunk -
you better run for cover.
The hawk is nearby.

Indigo buntings
both resting in a pine bush.
Miles to go before....

Ouch! How can it be?
Something so small, bites so hard.
Hungry no see-um.

Shy, tufted titmouse -
takes one seed and steps aside.
Then back for one more.

Full in the morning,
inviting suit feeder -
empty by sunset.

Noisy little wren,
head way back, beak to the sky.
Serenades heaven!

Greedy brown Thrasher,
way too big for the feeder -
Just keeps falling off.

In early August,
Hummingbirds zip all over -
dive bombing my porch.

Rose breasted gross beak
is pausing at the feeder -
ahh, just passing through.

-

Soft sounds of wind chimes
in the warm evening breeze -
soothe me into to sleep.

A train rumbling by,
the sound of distant traffic.
Me – sittin’ right here...

His wife sitting there
in the bright morning sunlight -
warms him all over.

Trucks, saws, wood chipper -
an endless fascination.
Little boy watching...

Long-John’s on the line -
Drying in warm spring sunlight.
Ahh yes, free at last.

A baby stirs, cries.
The morning glory opens.
New day beginning.

A winter freight train,
it’s icy wheels screech and squeal.
Glad my head ain’t glass.

Grocery cart down -
afternoon escape attempt,
foiled by gusty wind.

In morning silence,
the neighbor children laughing -
and sometimes crying.

Hey, seen my cell phone?
I sure can hear it ringing...
Ah, in my pocket.

-

The smooth, calm lake
immune to my restless thoughts -
eloquent silence.

In natures silence,
my mind is yet distracted -
could be time for lunch.

The fourth ashrama -
time to seek enlightenment.
Be still restless mind.

It keeps waking him -
in every hour of night.
The noise in his head.

Haiku in English,
a five, seven, five format -
Uff, too many words.

With concentration
the young archer stills his bow,
to pierce the hawk’s eye.

″

Mo Soulis © 2021

Foothills

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Love -

Nature -

Late spring evening –
Fireflies coming out soon.
Look! – there’s one now.

Front porch,
morning sun on my face –
Think I’ll skip work today.

The trees were felled
and my heart ached.
Then I saw mountains.

Rouge sunflower
sprouting in my flower box –
Should I let him live?

Moon flowers blooming
at sunset –
light up the whole garden.

Quick, little chipmunk -
run for cover...
hawk’s nearby.

Leaves and branches
bend with the wind.
Where is the wind?

Wind chimes
in a summer evening breeze –
Soothe me to sleep.

Ouch! How can it be
so small, bite so hard?
Hungry no see-um...

Life

Train rumbling by,
distant traffic sounds...
Me, I’m sittin’ right here.

Long John’s on the line
drying in a spring breeze.
Free at last!

– A baby stirs, cries
the morning glory opens.
Another day begins.

My neighbor doesn’t meditate.
- How does she find peace
every day in her garden.

icy wheels - Winter freight train
screech and squeal.
Glad my head ain’t glass.

Trucks, saws, a chipper
endless fascination
for a small boy.

Grocery cart down...
Afternoon escape attempt,
foiled by the wind.

In the morning I hear
– neighbor children laughing
sometimes crying.

Seen my cell phone?
I hear it ringing...
Ah, in my pocket.

•

Mo Soulis © 2016