Tag Archives: poetry

High Coo – Homage to Ogden Nash and Two Dogs HaveI

Old man and two dogs pinterest.com

(Frederick) Ogden Nash (born 1902 in Rye, New York and died 1971 in Baltimore, Maryland) was cited by The New York Times as “America’s best-known producer of humorous poetry.” Nash once remarked, “I could have loved New York had I not loved Balti-more.” He composed over 500 pieces and was known for his unconventional rhyming schemes. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ogden_Nash

Here is one of his famous poems about dogs:

Two Dogs HaveI

by Ogden Nash

Ogden Nash

For years we’ve had a little dog,
Last year we acquired a big dog;
He wasn’t big when we got him,
He was littler than the dog we had.
We thought our little dog would love him,
Would help him to become a trig dog,
But the new little dog got bigger,
And the old little dog got mad.

Now the big dog loves the little dog,
But the little dog hates the big dog,
The little dog is eleven years old,
And the big dog only one;
The little dog calls him Schweinhund,
The little dog calls him Pig-dog,
She grumbles broken curses
As she dreams in the August sun.

The big dog’s teeth are terrible,
But he wouldn’t bite the little dog;
The little dog wants to grind his bones,
But the little dog has no teeth;
The big dog is acrobatic,
The little dog is a brittle dog;
She leaps to grip his jugular,
And passes underneath.

The big dog clings to the little dog
Like glue and cement and mortar;
The little dog is his own true love;
But the big dog is to her
Like a scarlet rag to a Longhorn,
Or a suitcase to a porter;
The day he sat on the hornet
I distinctly heard her purr.

Well, how can you blame the little dog,
Who was once the household darling?
He romps like a young Adonis,
She droops like an old mustache;
No wonder she steals his corner,
No wonder she comes out snarling,
No wonder she calls him Cochon
And even Espèce de vache.

Yet once I wanted a sandwich,
Either caviar or cucumber,
When the sun had not yet risen
And the moon had not yet sank;
As I tiptoed through the hallway
The big dog lay in slumber,
And the little dog slept by the big dog,
And her head was on his flank.

See https://www.best-poems.net/ogden_nash/two_dogs_havei.html

Here is my humble homage: Thank you Ogden Nash

Little poem, big poem

your words tumble forward like

happy autumn leaves

Cute Puppies Enjoy Fall – SouthernLiving.com

High Coo – Homage to Edgar A. Guest and A Boy and His Dog

Little boy with his dog https://www.flickr.com/photos/chanelchat/8197795239/

Poet Edgar Albert Guest (born 1881in Birmingham, England died 1959 in Detroit, Michigan) is one of my first poetry heroes. He published some 11,000 poems in the Detroit Free Press and syndicated across 300 other newspapers. Known for his optimistic and sentimental verse, Guest was named Poet Laureate of Michigan, my home state. See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Edgar_A._Guest

This is one of his famous poems about dogs:

A Boy And His Dog

by Edgar Albert Guest

Edgar Albert Guest

A boy and his dog make a glorious pair:
No better friendship is found anywhere,
For they talk and they walk and they run and they play,
And they have their deep secrets for many a day;
And that boy has a comrade who thinks and who feels,
Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.
He may go where he will and his dog will be there,
May revel in mud and his dog will not care;
Faithful he’ll stay for the slightest command
And bark with delight at the touch of his hand;
Oh, he owns a treasure which nobody steals,
Who walks down the road with a dog at his heels.
No other can lure him away from his side;
He’s proof against riches and station and pride;
Fine dress does not charm him, and flattery’s breath
Is lost on the dog, for he’s faithful to death;
He sees the great soul which the body conceals-
Oh, it’s great to be young with a dog at your heels!

See https://www.best-poems.net/edgar-albert-guest/a-boy-and-his-dog.html

My humble haiku homage: Thank you Edgar Guest

Ev’ry season and

ev’ryday, you saw the love

and shared the beauty

A boy and his dog reddit.com

High Coo – Sept 11 – National Pet Memorial Day

Tree of Life Pet Memorial Room at Stray Rescue of St. Louis
One leaf on the Tree of Life for our companion
Etta Pearl, blind, deaf Min Pin Doxie

The second Sunday of September has been designated as National Pet Memorial Day since 1972. “When a beloved pet dies it’s like losing a member of the family, so this holiday exists to allow pet owners to grieve and to honor the memory of their pets. It doesn’t matter if the pet lost is a cat, dog, bird, or fish, pets can provide companionship and comfort that’s worthy of being remembered on this day of remembrance.” See https://www.holidayscalendar.com/event/national-pet-memorial-day/

Two poems are offered today. The first comes from my book NATURAL BEAUTY AND OTHER POEMS published earlier this year.

Who Rescues Who?

In one year’s time, we have “rescued” five dogs. Or, more accurately, they have rescued me. They’ve taught or tried to teach me patience as well as gratitude and humility. Any failures were not on account of their teaching ability.

Who are they, who were they, what are their names? First, a spaniel, named Rosie. Second, an island dog from St. Thomas. Third was Etta, a blind, deaf Min Pin Doxie, and fourth, a nameless Golden Chow puppy.

Two of them came “knocking” on our back door; we brought them in, cleaned them up, had a vet check. One we fostered until a family adopted, one we adopted until heavenly-trekked. All were heart-touching, worth loving and divine respect.

We now have four adopted rescues as part of our family, all four elders in their respective breed. We are grateful to serve full- or part-time. Their presence reminds us of our interbeing creed. Their love brings tears and confirms our mutual need.

Second, is today’s haiku: National Pet Memorial Day

Sweet Etta Pearl,

we walk together weekly.

Your spirit lives on

For more information about this holiday see https://nationaltoday.com/national-pet-memorial-day/

High Coo – Sept 8 – Nat’l Dog Walker Appreciation Day

Man walking a Pitbull – freepik

Today is National Dog Walker Appreciation Day. Whether it’s a paid serviceperson or a volunteer for a rescue facility, walking dogs is an important activity with benefits for the dog, the owner and the walker. Quality attention time, exercise and bodily relief are just the beginning. See https://nationaltoday.com/national-dog-walker-appreciation-day/

First celebrated in 2016, this holiday was organized by Wag!, the platform that connects pet parents with local dog walkers. See https://wagwalking.com/

I am very grateful to be a volunteer dog walker for:

https://www.strayrescue.org/

I walk 4 – 5 dogs singly every Wednesday morning and the human-animal bond (HAB) grows exponentially each week. Yesterday, I walked Wayne, Piper, Minion and The Supreme. We give each other such joy along with the time for staff to refresh their apartments while we’re out. I strongly recommend this activity for the nearest rescue facility in your neighborhood. It will do a world of good for all involved. 🙂

Today’s haiku: National Dog Walker Appreciation Day

Need some exercise

and time to do business?

Thank a dog walker.

https://wagwalking.com/dog-walking

High Coo – Sept 7 – Happy Birthday Grandma Moses

Grandma Moses @ biography.com

Born September 7, 1860, Anna Mary Robertson Moses, aka Grandma Moses, is “an artist who remains an inspiration to people starting careers late in life. Despite her advanced age, she defied the odds and set out to become one of the most celebrated artists of her time.” (See https://nationaltoday.com/grandma-moses-day/)

She began painting full-time at age 77 and continued until her death at age 101. Grandma Moses’ first paintings sold for as little as $3 dollars in a drug store, but her work went on to sell for over $1 million dollars for a single painting. (See https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Grandma_Moses)

As 68-year-old poet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, proclaimed in Morituri Salutamus: Poem for the Fiftieth Anniversary of the Class of 1825 in Bowdoin College

“It is too late! Ah, nothing is too late till the tired heart shall cease to palpitate…Something remains for us to do or dare; even the oldest tree some fruit may bear.” (See https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44639/morituri-salutamus-poem-for-the-fiftieth-anniversary-of-the-class-of-1825-in-bowdoin-college)

Here is today’s humble haiku: Happy Birthday Grandma Moses

Your beautiful smile,

shining through your simple art,

delivers pure joy.

Halloween, 1955, by Grandma Moses @ pinterest.es

High Coo – September 6 – National Read a Book Day

Standing outside “Beat Poetry HQ” aka City Lights Books in San Francisco

Today is NATIONAL READ A BOOK DAY. What book(s) are you reading?

I’m always reading more than one. Here’s my current collection:

America’s Racial Karma by Larry Ward, PhD

Gasoline by Gregory Corso

It’s Not About the Wine by Dr. Brian Metters

Sacred Sendoffs by Sarah A. Bowen

Other recommendations:

Poetry of Presence by Phyllis Cole-Dai and Ruby Wilson

Something to Chew On by Ari Joshua Bouse

Wounds I Healed: The Poetry of Strong Women edited by Gabriela Marie Milton

Today’s haiku: National Read a Book Day

Love’s labors found:

reading inspires my passion

to reciprocate

For more information on this holiday see https://nationaltoday.com/national-read-book-day/

A final humble recommendation:

patrickjcolepoetry.com

High Coo – September 4 – What Blank Slate?

standard.gm

Are we a blank state? I disagree, there is no blank slate.  We never start with nothing since we are all composites of what came before us. Today is the continuation of yesterday. My brain is a collection of neurons and the synapses that result.  This moment is filled with energy from multiple sources.

As I sit here behind a laptop computer, I see a backyard with a row of beauty berry bushes attracting birds and many trees with squirrel nests and waving branches from the breeze blowing through and…..

In this office there are many books, pictures on the shelves, more pictures on the walls, a desk, two small file cabinets, three musical instruments and a music stand close by.

How many objects are needed for inspiration?  Actually, none.  Inspiration is our life force; we can’t help but think and ponder and dream and create and….. 

We are co-creators in this cosmos.  We are holograms of the life spark. We are “chips off the old block” and the Big Bang keeps banging away. Inspiration, change, creation are all words for the same thing: life

As long as we keep breathing, we keep thinking, I think. I’m curious – what are you thinking right now?

Today’s haiku: What Blank Slate?

Blessed by ancestors

energy continues to

stimulate action

ibiologia.com

High Coo – September 3 – Our Life Is Our Message

whatitcosts.com

My father was a carpenter who became a Skilled Trades Supervisor for a major US utility.  He retired early to golf, fish and construct wood picture frames for fun. 

My first father-in-law was a Welding Foreman for a global office furniture manufacturer who turned down a promotion to Production Superintendent to ensure he had time for the freshwater fishing and the golf that he loved. 

My second father-in-law was a Production and Inventory Control Manager who went on to become CEO of the same global office furniture manufacturer.  He retired and was recalled for a year before living another 25 years, many on the golf course and doing some occasional fishing.

So, what do these three men tell me; what can I learn from my “forefathers?” Is my life a journey from blue to white collar work and are my “golden years” to be spent enjoying fishing and golf?

My father told his four sons to retire earlier than he did at age 59 because retirement was the best time of life.  My father died at age 77 and had only one regret that I know of which was agreeing to elective heart surgery to replace a pacemaker.  He died one week after the surgery and told his sons at his hospital bedside what a mistake it was to agree to that final surgery.

My first father-in-law told me to get a couple of hobbies early in life to ensure I had a way to escape home life whenever I needed.  He advised specifically joining him in fishing and golf, which I did for many years.  He died at age 64 of medical complications from diabetes.

My second father-in-law advised world travel which was another hobby he had.  Otherwise, he didn’t say that much to me as he was very active in his own pursuits and demonstrated his values more than spoke of them.  He died at age 93 and unfortunately his last three years were using a walker and napping a lot.  He had beaten colon cancer, multiple melanomas (from so much fishing and golf?), and finally the debilitation brought on from a stroke.

I gave up golf many years ago and haven’t fished in years.  My full-time work life began as a spot welder and progressed to a Human Resources Director before moving on to my career as a Human Capital Consultant for the last 24 years. So, some similarities to my forefathers but some possible differences in my final life chapter. 

I’m now focused on joining the Order of Interbeing as a Zen Christian practitioner and my goal this year is to begin an Animal Chaplaincy program, write a fourth book of poetry and become a Dharma Mentor in the next year or so.

Not sure how much longer I might live but want to live my “golden years” doing what I love.   How about you?

Today’s haiku: Our Life Is Our Message

How much choice is there?

How much control do we have?

Hmmm, time to walk dogs.

blogspot.com

High Coo – September 2 – Shit Happens

poop emoji

Big dogs, little dogs, all dogs poop; ideally, outdoors, somewhere you can easily collect and dispose of it. Somedays aren’t ideal.

This morning, Zorro, our 7-pound Chihuahua, ate his breakfast and, before I could take him outdoors, he deposited his little pile of poop on one of our Oriental carpets. Fortunately, he returned to me and guided me to the location so I would know where it was. So, I would not step in it accidentally. So, I would collect it and clean the carpet. So, there would be no sign of his “accident” for anyone, especially Mom, to see, or smell, or step in it.

Fortunately, Zorro much prefers to poop outdoors. He doesn’t like poop in his living space, and he knows neither do I.

Not to anthropomorphize but, tangentially, my Zen Mindfulness teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh, has a short poem about “using the toilet” which goes like this:

“Defiled or immaculate, increasing or decreasing – these concepts exist only in our mind. The reality of interbeing is unsurpassed.” See https://beherenownetwork.com/thich-nhat-hanhs-gathas/

Here’s today’s haiku: Shit Happens

Your shit is my shit

together we will manage it:

thanks for the heads up

Fortunately, Zorro rarely poops in the house. You can be assured; I will be very attentive to help him avoid future “accidents.”

For more information on this topic see https://www.whole-dog-journal.com/training/house_training/how-to-handle-your-dogs-accidents-in-the-house/

https://www.whole-dog-journal.com/ free e-newsletter

High Coo – September 1 – Animal Chaplain Training

chapelofthefields.com

Today is the first month of my animal chaplaincy program. I have acquired my textbooks, re-arranged my office and calendar, and am eager to attend the first class.

I will be journaling this 10-month program that leads to graduation in June ’23. Don’t hesitate to ask questions or offer commentary as your spirit moves.

BTW: It’s not too late for you to become a classmate, if you’re interested. See https://www.compassionconsortium.org/training for more information.

Here’s today’s haiku: Animal Chaplain Training

Doing what I love

combining my work and faith:

dog-walking poet

https://www.ahwatukee.com/news/article_b608ca1a-aba4-11e2-a089-001a4bcf887a.html