Herbie Mann Comin' Home

Thursday, December 2, 2010

Nothing Human Is Alien To Me

The wiping of boots -- haven't remarked on the host's face yet, even, mine burrowed beneath the scarf and having the eyeglasses fog in the cool of the mud room

I didn't shave, face cold-frozen, and I'm blunt as the snow white of nature

I'm dangerous, as all beautiful humanity is, and I'm here and now, inside, right from the Schwarzwald of the subconscious

Yet kind people discount all the risks and give out fresh cake

To receive this visit as though one brings rice to the village or to the wedding -- another set of hands providing oolong in a mug, why do these people love me?



  1. Let me be the first of the feathered
    flurry that will flock here and enjoy
    your poetics. There is something
    of the sentimental curmudgeon about
    these lines, sweet and tough, tender
    and intelligent, like /I'm dangerous/
    like all beautiful humanity is/ and
    I adore /I'm blunt as the snow white
    of nature/. I am smiling, yet touched,
    exorcising the haggard humbug that
    gets up in my shadow around the

  2. we love what we see that's in ourselves and love it all the more

    liked reading this

  3. I think on some level that applies to all of us humans.

  4. Glenn,

    You did indeed cross the finish line first! It's hard to imagine a youthful person being aware of this in the same way as expressed. The stubble and 'white' also suggests the age.

    Sweet and tough? That may pin down some of this that I hadn't seen but a bit of. The tough facing the sweet, too.


  5. Suz,

    I learned early to love what I saw in myself, and frankly was surprised more than once that such vision wasn't universally shared! This poem crept up on me by introducing 'givers' who recognized what they wanted to donate to.

    A surprise generosity. An unusual event. A throwing-off of one's 'game'.

  6. Kristen,

    Welcome here!

    I like to think that all humans are open to kindness, to a recognition of it.

    On some level.

    Some people are puzzles?


  7. This piece is gorgeous. A feast to the senses, so redolent with humanity. Truly.

  8. Tess,

    Did I fail to respond to this? Forgive me! I needed to get into this, a piece suggested by a certain party's 'snowy door' photo. Winter challenges my poetry as well as my nervous system. It's a 'plus' to try!