Merry ‘Pantheistmas’

It’s clear from knowing Roger that he ascribed meaning to Christmas. Meaning beyond enjoying festive drinks and indulging in mince pies and other seasonal treats. Superficially, it seems odd that a Pantheist would celebrate, or even write poems about a Christian festival (albeit with pagan roots). And yet his poetry collections reveal an array of festive delights such as Messaging Christmas Day, Home For Christmas, Once Upon A Wiccan Yule…

Certainly Roger’s opinion on Christianity, and indeed on other monotheist religions, was more ‘charitable’ than my own. He recognised wisdom in some of the core teachings while rejecting those doctrinal absurdities. However, for both of us Christianity always seemed merely a comfort blanket for existential angst - whilst failing to explain or probe the universe’s deeper mysteries. From a historical perspective it too frequently inspired persecution over piety. From a scientific perspective it places fable over fact. And from a philosophical perspective it stifles ontological enquiry with dogma…

So why the Christmas poems…?!

I believe Roger drew inspiration from a universal symbolism echoed in the Christmas message. Particularly, the theme of hope-born-anew in the Nativity story. And that disparate collective brought together to celebrate the sacred nature of birth. Other Christmas tropes would have also touched him - such as people coming together in fellowship and song, and the joy of exchanging gifts with family and friends. Roger’s poetry explores an underlying sentiment abounding, like the joyous peel of church bells, in the collective consciousness. Although often juxtaposed against feelings of loneliness, even alienation.

Roger recognised an overarching Christmas message to explore transcendent qualities within; beneficence, goodwill, forgiveness, and reconciliation. To reconnect over our shared humanity, rather than obsess over tribal differences. More than anything he savoured that brief collective commitment to a spirit of agape - if tempered by a healthy dose of skepticism.

Season’s greetings to all and my best wishes for 2026.

Graham

P.S. My apologies to regular readers for the long absence. It’s neglectful of me although health issues and work pressures too often take precedence.

 

*  *  *  *

 

ANOTHER COUNTRY

 

You’ll come naked to my dreams

and breathe life into me,

repair my body at its fraying seams,

fill me with ecstasy

 

You’ll croon a love song in my ear,

play on the same guitar

I bought you for Christmas the year

we first kissed each other

 

You’ll make love to me, our passion

a bitter-sweet hymn to Creation,

though I must wake too soon, too soon,

at time’s cruel persuasion

 

Parted by forces fired by human bigotry,

reunited forever in love's 'other' country

 

R.N. Taber, 2020. From the collection Addressing the Art of Being Human
(To be published in eBook format, 2026)

Glimpse through a Veil

ROGER TABER - POETRY READING

21 March 2017 – Part 3

Note from Roger’s friend, Graham

Hello again, welcome. And sorry for my long absence.

I’m sharing the final recording segment of the trio. I haven’t included the usual visual narrative for much of this as it’s essentially a question and answer session. The audience pose some interesting questions, I think, and Roger’s answers are candid. It lifts the veil on his creative process to some extent – which may interest any aspiring wordsmiths out there. In hindsight, I should have recorded and filmed more of his performances*. Ah well, c’est la vie.

Here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gygG7RTkbbw.

I intended to post this clip last autumn. Sadly, circumstances overtook me with the passing away of my mother. We were very close and I’m still not reconciled to her loss.

One of the tragic aspects of getting older is the inexorable loss of those we love. It can feel as if one’s life is being dismantled piece by piece. The grand aspirations we build – all brought to ruin. But even destruction has beauty. The fallen tree makes space for, and feeds new life. In dissolution, rebirth.

Meanwhile… I’m presently taking time off work to cat sit for a workmate. I’m residing in Whitstable; a small seaside town on the Kent coast. It’s a bright spring day with gulls gliding effortlessly in pastel blue sky. Pebble beaches and groynes interweave and arch; diminishing into a hazy headland. Above the chorus of glittering waves; the wistful cries of the gulls. People gather. Dog walkers call to their excited pets. Couples muzzle one another dreamily. Children, exuberant with laughter. Back at the house my two feline friends greet me affectionately. They gather at empty food bowls mewing expectantly…

I’ve stayed here numerous times over the years. And Roger often used visit. He adored cats and they obviously sensed his affinity for them. Another attraction for him was nostalgia, I think. Roger attended university in the nearby city of Canterbury. As you might expect we enjoyed many a boozy afternoon on his daytrips here. With conversation sometimes descending into vulgarity. I recall his comment at The Neptune (a beachside pub)… about ‘Neptune lapping at the groynes’ (or groins!). A reference to the Roman god of the sea, of course.

I plan to revisit The Neptune later. And watch the sun setting over the oyster beds. No doubt I’ll raise a toast to those dearly departed. Loved ones who remain part of life’s rich landscape.

* * *

PART 3

Questions and Answers

Observations on the Human Nature of Cats

Ode to a Mermaid*


(CC) R. N. Taber 2017

* originally published here: A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...: Ode To A Mermaid.

Echoes of a Season Past

ROGER TABER - POETRY READING
21 March 2017 – Part 2

From Roger’s friend, Graham

Greetings from autumnal Essex, UK,

I’m sharing the second part of Roger’s poetry reading. Again, I’ve embellished the recording with imagery (including the occasional cheeky pun). I’m grateful to the photographers who’ve shared their work (public domain license) on the Pixabay, Pexels and Unsplash websites. Wikimedia has also proven really helpful.

Here’s the link: https://youtu.be/hs3aTILOdtU. Or find it by searching ‘roger taber poetry’ in YouTube if you prefer.

I was reflecting on my previous comments about performance poetry being more expressive than printed form. How it reveals the intensity, passion and human frailty of the poet. And yet, conversely, a soundtrack could be interpreted as the author’s impressing of a particular perspective on his work. I wonder if poetry, art or music is really more about multiple viewpoints…? And written verse, perhaps, remains more accessible to those differing interpretations. Either way, I still think the recording adds an interesting facet to Roger’s published work.

The selection contains some personal favourites – ‘Suggestions’ and ‘The Poet’s Song’ among them. I read the latter at Roger’s funeral as part of a eulogy. Although it’s not sombre - rather a celebration of the artform. After all, ‘look on the bright side’ was his mantra. Even on his poetic postcards from the abyss.

Inevitably, the project has left me with a sense of retrospection. Roger died back in March last year although, for me at least, his presence lingers. His connection to the world endures somehow in a continuum of past-present-future. Like a pebble cast into water, his life-force resonates through a sea of time…

Memory’s warming embers ever glimmer in the shadow of grief.

Thanks for reading/listening.

G x

 

*  *  *

 

‘I am hopelessly in love with a memory. An echo from another time, another place.’
Michel Foucault

‘No one is actually dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away.’
Terry Pratchett

‘As long as there are memories, yesterday remains. As long as there is hope, tomorrow awaits. As long as there is friendship, today is beautiful.’
Billy Joel

 

*  *  *

 

ROGER TABER - POETRY READING
Tuesday, 21 March 2017

PART 2

The Master Baiter
W-A-R, Crucible Of Remembrance
Spring Magic
Logging On To Life
Imagination, Painter Of Dreams or Masochist
National Trust Outing
Suggestions
Shades Of Comic Genius
Engaging With Nature or Living With Prostate Cancer
Patchwork
Ode To Apollo or Profile Of A Life-force
Heartbeat or Waking Up To The Power of Positive Thinking
Poems By Passing Clouds
The Poet’s Song
In Good Company

(CC) R. N. Taber 2017

A Tapestry of Life

From Roger’s friend, Graham

Greetings and welcome,

I hope that you’re thriving wherever you are in the world. A quick update - I’m still working on part 2 of Roger’s poetry reading for YouTube. In the meantime, I’m sharing some further reflections on his poetry.

A recurring theme in Roger’s work is an intimate relationship with nature. His narratives explore complex  interconnectivity between animals, plants, environment and self. Beyond the impressionistic imagery lies a deeper communion with nature aspiring to the sacred. Roger’s inspiration flowed from this affinity with the natural environment. He described it as pantheism - although it also shares ideals with Jainism.

Both Roger and I grew up under the yoke of Christian tradition - which we rejected in adulthood. But our reasons went beyond the insidious anti-gay and misogynist bigotry lurking in certain Old Testament tracts. It was the notion that humans stand alone in all creation as being divinely inspired; uniquely housing a ‘soul’. That flawed foundation of ethics which affords adherents free reign to exploit and enslave (so-called) lesser creatures and desecrate the environment - while obviating responsibility as to suffering or consequence. As with the other Abrahamic religions, Christian dogma conjures the illusion of separation from, and elevation over the rest of nature. (It also provides insight into ecclesiastical hubris.)

The enlightenment of science teaches us that this is fundamentally and evidentially wrong. We share 98.8% of our DNA with chimpanzees - with whom we share a common ancestor 6-7 million years ago. We can trace our evolutionary lineage on the tree of life back through millennia. Our origin and purpose in the universe aren’t inscribed on tablets of stone, but rather, recorded indelibly within strata of rock.

Humankind are not the animal kingdom’s divinely-ordained overlords – we’re it’s caretakers; bearing that weight of responsibility. We’ve close kinship to our fellow creatures. Who could gaze into the eyes of their pet dog, their cat or other domesticated animals and not sense their emotional complexity? Who could fail to acknowledge their affection, their joy or their pain? It offers an inkling that we’re part of something bigger… part of Earth Mother’s glorious magnum opus comprising all living things.

Roger’s nature poems recognise that we’re inextricably interwoven into the tapestry of life; that we’re but threads within the greater fabric of existence.

Take care,
Gx

 

*  *  *  *

 

ANTHEM PLAYED ON A GRASS HARP

Watery sun dripping through trees,
leaves sparkling like jewels in a crown
where we’d wander, my love and I,
ears pricking up at a chick’s first cry,
looking out for others flapping their way
on first flights through dawn rainbows
till gliding with ease as nature meant
for us all, although less so among humans,
a species well known for thinking they
know better than Earth Mother, wishing
them ill (and Hell) who resist straitjackets
and persist in walking tall

On a magic carpet of many colours,
among daisies passing for fairies
in a palace of dreams, we’d go free,
where all prejudices and bigotry
mean less than a fair breeze in the face,
Earth Mother’s caress in the hair,
reminding us how we are, one and all,
as nature intended, no one creature
any more or less precious than another,
each, in their own way, a ‘live’
testament to mind-body-spirit and a history
lending meaning to eternity

We arrived where the carpet
tuned into stone, where no sun shining,
only Shadows, a gathering of forces
preparing to take humanity on and win
any fight it may choose to pick,
no matter rights and wrongs (or alternative
points of view); for them, a certainty
that the world has no place for men, women
and young people whose sexuality
offends a majority choosing to make stand
on a Ship of Fools in a gale force wind, set on
making sense of humankind

Oh, but spring in our hair like jewels in a crown
Love takes for its own!

 

Copyright R.N. Taber 2010 from the collection ‘On the Battlefields of Love’. Revised 2021.

A Window in Time

 

(From Roger’s friend, Graham)

 

Hi everyone,

Over the years I’ve attended many of Roger’s poetry readings. Many took place in public libraries or art centres. Occasionally they were part of an events programme for LGBT+ History Month (February, here in the UK). Often, friends and old colleagues would attend.

I recently discovered a sound recording among Roger’s personal effects. A reading at the Society of Genealogists hire space, London, back in March 2017. Hearing his voice again was evocative. It made me recount those many convivial evenings enjoying poetry and wine. More interestingly though, it offers the listener an extra dimension. They’re more expressive and nuanced than mere lines of printed verse. The added intonation and emphasis illuminates and counter-shades the narrative.

I’ve opted to add some imagery. A simple slideshow really, which hopefully provides a suitable backdrop. My plan is to publish the entire reading in full on Roger’s YouTube channel. For now though, I’m including a link to the first part here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2klMtjNWuSQ

Happy listening and thanks for reading.

Graham

 

*  *  *

 

ROGER TABER - POETRY READING

Tuesday, 21 March 2017

 

PART 1

Close Friends, Distant Lives

A Short History of London

The Busker or Music, Spirit of Life

Last Take on Multiculturalism

Whatever Happened To Love?

The Ballad of Neighbour Joe

Darkness, The Poetry of Mixed Feelings or The Scenic Route To Daylight

View From A Church Window

Life At The Shallow End or Keeping Up Appearances

The Zen Of Counting Beans

A Family Connection or Time Travel Firsthand

Harvesting Imagination

Looking For Answers or Passing Comment On The Human Psyche

Mother Love

The Guardian

 

(CC) R N. Taber 2017

 

United we stand, divided we fall...

 (From Roger’s friend, Graham)

Hello, and sorry for not posting here for a few months. Despite best intentions, circumstances prevail sometimes. My mother is receiving end-of-life care so I’ve been making regular trips to the family house in Trowbridge. Thank you for visiting Roger’s poetry blog.

I’ve been contemplating the recent riots here in the UK, following the social media disinformation as to the identity of a child-murderer at a Southport nursery. Beyond the horror of the attack, it has highlighted the mistrust and intolerance which exists within our multicultural society. It underscores the fault lines of disparate communities. More widely it is a global media exposé on a fragmented society. As an egalitarian British guy I feel shameful about what has transpired.

A very wise Ghanaian friend once said to me ‘your rights end where mine begin’. It’s a deceptively simple remark which actually delves into the profound; that freedom to express one’s identity – whether religious, cultural or political – must end at the point where it infringes upon the liberty of others. Freedom of expression cannot be boundless. Especially in a multicultural society which, intrinsically, encompasses differing perspectives on ethics and social norms. It must rely on a degree of acceptance for secular principles. Such as the individual’s right to choose where they worship and who they love. But more widely, multicultural cohesion relies on an acceptance that women share this right, along with those who are uncertain about their gender identity. Those who don’t conform to cultural notions of propriety have an equal right to be free from violence, if not opprobrium. Those who leave a religion too, to become ‘apostate’, ‘gentile’ or ‘blasphemer’ still retain a basic right to be free from violence and threats.

People who think otherwise, well, perhaps they don’t truly belong in a democracy...? Rather, a theocracy, a fascist dictatorship or an ochlocracy where they can happily tie people to the pyre. To so fervently support division whether political, religious, or otherwise, ignores our common humanity. And embraces the illusion of ‘otherness’ - so often stoked by (so-called) community, religious and political leaders.

In an increasingly pluralistic society, there’s a point where we must listen to those seeking to build bridges. Rather than burn them.

 * * * *

‘Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.’ Voltaire.

‘The true triumph of reason is that it enables us to get along with those who do not possess it.’ Voltaire.

* * * *

GUEST SPEAKER

I am relatively new
to the world’s societies
bent on testing me
to the limits of tolerance
towards a diversity
keen to embrace everyone,
regardless of race, sex
or creed if on its divisions
determined to feed

 I dare have my say
in public places, Holy Books,
political manifestos,
though adults (as a rule)
less likely to grasp
what it is we’re getting at
than the child at school
asked what he or she thinks
life is all about

We have to live together,
which means more agreeing
to differ, if only to defuse
rising discontent with animosity
dished up by this culture
or that religion vying for priority
with precious little respect
for a common humanity

Engage with me, Multiculturalism,
expose any Politics of Separatism

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

 

Love in all its Rainbow Hues

 

From Roger’s friend, Graham

Growing up is challenging enough, even without the burden of stigmatisation for loving someone of the same gender. There’s room for improvement here in Britain, but generally LGBT+ citizens have equal rights enshrined by law. In places of employment (excepting religious organisations) discrimination on the grounds sexuality or gender identity is illegal. Since the Civil Partnership Act in 2004, same sex couples can join in a legally recognised partnership. And after the UK Marriage Act in 2013, LGBT+ couples are able to marry.

Marriage is perhaps the ultimate expression of love for those fortunate enough to find a soulmate. It’s also a declaration of love to family, friends and beyond. For couples with religious faith, it’s a sacred vow of love with God as their witness.

Love is also a scintillating rainbow of sentiments. Greek philosophers Plato and Aristotle wrote of a whole spectrum of emotions such as friendship love; philia, familial love; storge and passionate love; éros. Greek mythology also abounds with inspirational tales of profound and tragic love such as Orpheus and Eurydice. Love can be the light of your life - or the heart of your darkness…

Roger explores these epic themes expansively throughout his writing. Sometimes in sonnet form - popularised in Elizabethan England by William Shakespeare and his contemporaries. (I hope to explore this theme in a later posting). His printed works often devote a section to the theme of love. They are, doubtless, poems interwoven with personal experience.

Roger and I occasionally discussed past relationships and compared notes on our respective missed opportunities, dashed hopes and even disasters. Alas for Rog, he wasn’t lucky enough to find a long-term partner. Although I believe his romantic soul never lost hope in meeting someone special.

In later life, I feel assured that Roger derived fulfilment through the reciprocal love of close friendships. Can this be enough to sustain anyone in the absence of a partner, estrangement from family or societal ostracisation? I imagine we’d all have a differing answer. Throughout my own voyage of self-discovery, friendship has certainly proven to be the most unconditional form of love. An enduring bond with Roger remains testament to that.

 

*  *  *

 

‘Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.’ Dalai Lama

‘Love is a canvas furnished by nature and embroidered by imagination.’ Voltaire

‘Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead.’ Oscar Wilde

 

*  *  *

 

I’ll leave you with a trio of love poems – all from Accomplices to Illusion, Roger’s 2007 collection. I should explain that I’m staying with family presently - with only one book for source material. Wiltshire offers a welcome change of scenery. Tall oak trees surround the house. Their upper branches sweep back and forth like an artist’s frantic brushstrokes on a grey-marbled canvas. I look out on the small garden; the colours of shrubs diluted under a dull watercolour sky. A crow flies past; its hoarse cry breaking the mesmeric spell of birdsong. It fades to a black smudge on a watery treeline.

Thanks for reading.

 

*  *  *

 

NIGHT WATCH

I have greeted chimes at midnight
lain half dead at the toll for one
as my lifeblood ebbs to a starlight
behind clouds, watch all but done

I have heard the clock ticking over
for the passing of happy hours…
nor shall, when it stops, run for cover
but embrace a time forever ours

I have heard sweet songs at sunrise,
watched the last stars slip away,
seen my life’s light bright in your eyes
promise a beautiful spring day

As nature pauses at stark winter’s cold
so lovers dream, beyond a growing old

 

Copyright R N. Taber 2007 [a sonnet].

 

*  *  *

 

BONDING WITH ETERNITY

It was love opened up my heart
to all life means to me…
nor shall death its bonding part

Sands of time, soulmates at the start,
a song of destiny;
it was love opened up my heart

May the world no finer truths impart
than its natural beauty;
nor shall death its bonding part

Like summer skies, stars, even clouds
charting a fragile humanity…
it was love opened up my heart

If a taste on the tongue sweet or tart,
our togetherness a delicacy;
nor shall death its bonding part

Be nature’s kin struck by poison dart
comprising all humanity…
it was love opened up my heart
nor shall death its bonding part

 

Copyright R N. Taber 2007 [a villanelle].

 

*  *  *

 

WEATHERING LOVE

When I dream of you it is a springtime
of high hopes I’ll not forget

When I think of you it is midsummer,
(that rainy day we first met)

When I speak of you, each word is like
an autumn leaf that’s falling

When I hear your name on another’s lips
it’s but a winter robin calling

At nature’s whims, a beauty, each its own
though we weather it alone…

 

Copyright R N. Taber 2007.