Noticing

Mandolin and Liquers

La-la! The cat is in the violets
And the awnings are let down.
The cat should not be where she is
And the awnings are too brown,
Emphatically so.

If awnings were celeste and gay,
Iris and orange, crimson and green,
Blue and vermilion, purple and white,
And not this tinsmith's galaxy,
Things would be different.

The sun is gold, the moon is silver.
There must be a planet that is copper
And in whose light the roses
Would have a most singular appearance,
Or nearly so.

I love to sit and read the Telegraph
That vast confect of telegrams,
And to find how much that really matters
Does not really matter
At all.

What is this about? When I first read this poem, it just reminded me of a wandering mind on a Sunday afternoon. I picture an old man sitting on his porch, watching the world happen. This is a poem about noticing. It kind of reminds me of the poem I was assigned to memorize, Vacancy in the Park. Here, too, is a poem about noticing. Merely noticing the simple footsteps in the spring snow.

Life is simple. Things are. The sun is gold. The moon is sliver. If it wasn't, it would be different. But that is exactly how things are. Nothing matters.

The more I read Stevens, the more Lucretius screams at me. "And to find how much that really matters/ Does not really matter/ At all." It doesn't matter. What will all this be years down the road? What will we be? We will be nothing. All we can do is notice.

This poem is beautiful and simple. I am a huge fan of noticing (ha ha). Too often, things as small as the intense brownness of the awnings goes unnoticed. The misplacement of a cat is overlooked. But if nothing matters, why do we focus so much on the big things, and forget the little things?

The sublime is noticing. The sublime is taking the time to realize the color of the sun and moon, and the colors that they are not. The sublime is wondering what the world would be like if this were not so. The sublime is taking the time to see every day things, to not rush, to watch the happenings of a cat.

This poem is about noticing. This poem is about simplicity. This poem is about the sublime.