Herbie Mann Comin' Home

Friday, July 9, 2010

My End Of It

In nature, there is also ‘nothing poetry’. (That is, nothing that is p.)

There’s stuff ‘out there’, all right (as I am to you, for instance).

But we name it. In ‘reality’, it’s the No-Name Stuff.

Let me qualify that, even.

‘Reality’ is what we see it to be. Perhaps in many situations what we agree it to be?

As a language gal, you even sing and act it!

Coleridge, a man of his Romantic time. Coleridge, whose words helped create how people felt the ‘reality’ of their time to be. Even though it was and wasn’t.

(This is a response to Coleridge poem lines that begin 'In Nature there is nothing melancholy' posted on dara weinberg's blog: style over substance)



  1. Or Keats's nightingale that is out there, but doesn't know it.

  2. Chris,

    The N that may have been out there, would not have known if so, but Keats did . . . for that 'rich' moment of ecstatic 'pouring forth' before the 'adieu', the inevitable 'adieu'.

    Thank you for bringing him once again into my life!

    (And we might both thank whatever 'luck' that we have been privileged to such exposure and to the appreciation of it!)