Good Morning You
Good Morning, My Love
Good Morning Again
Good Morning Love
Good Morning Friend
Another Morning, Love
Good Morning
poetry by subject
Love Poems
Relationship Poems
Sensual Poems
Poems about Beauty
Poems about Equality
Poems about Nature
Poems about Freedom
Ecological Poems
Poems about Ego
Irreverent Poems
Musing Poems
Observational Poems
Playful Poems
Poems about Timelessness
Poems about Renewal
Poems about Oneness
Poems about Nothingness
Zen Poems
No-Mind Poems (Zen)
Non-Doing Poems (Tao)
grouped by book
Coffee Stains
Documenting the Obvious
Renegade Echo
Ture Love
Masquerading as Self
High Coo
Nothing Exists
Heated Pilgrim
Assume the Position
Minds Never Touch
High Coo
(short form prose & poetry)
Poems 1-33
Poems 34-66
Poems 67-98
High Coo #9
High Coo #222
Last Night
Tonight
The Big Bang
High Coo #8
Native American Name
High Coo #88
Stunt Double
High Coo #17
Some Other Destiny
In Tears
Nine Eleven
Notice This
High Coo #333
High Coo #44
And Buddha Said
Surreptitious
Crooked Man
Beauty
Hearth
Professors
Less Than Obvious Math
Stupid People
Hope
Nature
Girl Off Key
Affirmament
Overlooked
Proximity
High Coo #2
Character
Smart Monk
If you do a search on the internet you will find a number of sites referring to "high coo" which is an obvious play on the word "haiku." All good (or twisted) ideas will inevitably occur to more than one person.
Interestingly (and naively) enough, I was sure yours truly was the first to come up with it. I had been looking for an adequate "genre" label for what had become my disregard for syllable count whilst writing short form poetry.
Whether it be a fascination with fitting as much as possible into a small space (like packing the trunk of a car before a road trip), or the sheer joy of capturing something profound and vital in a very few words, this type of poem continues to turn me on.
Quite honestly, it is something that happens all by itself (what doesn't, right?). I will often crawl out of bed in the middle of the night just to scribble one down on the closest piece of paper. Call them mantras or koans or whatever you will, they carry a particular power.
I can appreciate the confinement of syllable structure for traditional haiku, yet for myself a clear understanding captured in a few words is what it is about. I say syllable schmyllable, and practice the art of simplicity-in-language and honesty-of-experience, whether it be by reflecting on something in nature (or by reflecting on something innermost).
The path to "feeling the best we can" (enlightenment, etc.) must necessarily be by way of traversing many moments where misunderstanding transforms into understanding. Haiku, "high coo" or any other form of concise testament is often a chronicle of these transitions. There is a special beauty in recorded revelation.
"High" (uplifting, aspiring) "Coo" (innocent, spontaneous muttering)— the perfect name for this type of poem. After twenty years of writing and scribbling, it is undeniably the art form that comes most natural to me. My guess is that it comes as natural to many others.
I have found that reworking these natural pieces to fit a syllable-per-line strict form often robs them of their inherent value and organic unity. After all, this haiku-ization can only be accomplished through a deliberate (de-liberate) effort.
Let's face it; part of the joy of writing "high coo" is in the expression of irreverence for traditional haiku. Most of what the Muses drop into my head has an angle that is very Zen-like in its joy and laughter— laughter at the absurdity of the ideas that we fall prey to so easily.
The joy in this witnessing of inspired arrangements (via Muses) is doubled by the prevailing amusement for how I could have previously thought otherwise. Struck by the clarifying insight, and still giggling with delight over the freedom from one more mental shackle, the words still buzzing their narration drive me towards the nearest pen and paper.
Once they are out and in form, all I want to do is share them. Hence, you will find many on this website and even more in what will hopefully amount to about seven or eight books. The first is entitled Coffee Stains, as one of my favorite spots for meditation is the local coffee shop.
Nothing Exists will be book number seven and will likely be released next. It is associated with the crown chakra, while Coffee Stains represented the first. Nothing Exists is a celebration of emptiness. Ture Love is number four and aims for the heart. This collection is of both "love poems" and love poems.
Compiled and waiting are the remaining four, namely Documenting the Obvious, Renegade Echo, Masquerading as Self, and High Coo. I am holding onto an eighth book that is the catchall for those poems with the most angst. When this feels appropriate for publication, it will carry the title Heated Pilgrim.
Thanks for all the support,
Benjamin