The Teacher
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
A reader has asked "... why on earth would anyone would want to access Edwin Black’s blog or even follow it?" [at http://bardicblackspot.blogspot.com ]
Apparently, he doesn’t find it in the least amusing and considers it, at times, to be ‘quite offensive’. Well, Edwin doesn’t offend me. He makes me laugh…sometimes uncomfortably, it’s true. But isn’t it that element of discomfort, often associated with humour, that gives rise to various concerns that, in turn, offer food for serious thought?
Everyone’s sense of humour is different of course. Even so, surely it’s better to let it run a whole gamut of expression than settle for its getting stuck in any particular groove?
Incidentally, Edwin performed on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square last year a couple of months after my own appearance as part of Antony Gormley's One and Other 'living sculpture' project:
http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Edwin [This link is temporarily out of action as it is incompatible with new B L software, but B L hope to reinstall all the plinth links at a later date.] RT
Me, I guess I have a predilection for anything (and anyone) that makes me laugh.
This poem is a kenning.
THE TEACHER
I light up dark corners of the heart,
bring smiles to lips turned down in a scowl,
temper sorrow with happier times,
turn back even pain’s relentless attack
into a victory for the human spirit’s
capacity for rising above the worst of things,
and reaching for its kinder side,
on show but, oh, too rarely, in a world
preferring secrets and lies
I give Youth a chance to score points
over peers preoccupied with one-upmanship
in some bleak, sordid arena
of gang warfare, where the weak are seen
as targets for bullies, even killers,
armed with knives and guns on the grounds
that actions speak louder than words
and it’s only fools learn the body language
of peace and love
I bring to Old Age welcome respite
from an inclination to turn back the pages
of memory, wishing we had done
things differently, trod more carefully
among muddy leaves of desire,
considered the needs of others more
in our anxiety to leave footprints
of memorable endeavour once left to wing
time’s corridor forever
Oh, I can be cruel (can’t we all?) Yet, no finer
teacher of life’s ways than I, called Laughter
Copyright R. N. Taber 2010
A reader has asked "... why on earth would anyone would want to access Edwin Black’s blog or even follow it?" [at http://bardicblackspot.blogspot.com ]
Apparently, he doesn’t find it in the least amusing and considers it, at times, to be ‘quite offensive’. Well, Edwin doesn’t offend me. He makes me laugh…sometimes uncomfortably, it’s true. But isn’t it that element of discomfort, often associated with humour, that gives rise to various concerns that, in turn, offer food for serious thought?
Everyone’s sense of humour is different of course. Even so, surely it’s better to let it run a whole gamut of expression than settle for its getting stuck in any particular groove?
Incidentally, Edwin performed on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square last year a couple of months after my own appearance as part of Antony Gormley's One and Other 'living sculpture' project:
http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Edwin [This link is temporarily out of action as it is incompatible with new B L software, but B L hope to reinstall all the plinth links at a later date.] RT
Me, I guess I have a predilection for anything (and anyone) that makes me laugh.
This poem is a kenning.
THE TEACHER
I light up dark corners of the heart,
bring smiles to lips turned down in a scowl,
temper sorrow with happier times,
turn back even pain’s relentless attack
into a victory for the human spirit’s
capacity for rising above the worst of things,
and reaching for its kinder side,
on show but, oh, too rarely, in a world
preferring secrets and lies
I give Youth a chance to score points
over peers preoccupied with one-upmanship
in some bleak, sordid arena
of gang warfare, where the weak are seen
as targets for bullies, even killers,
armed with knives and guns on the grounds
that actions speak louder than words
and it’s only fools learn the body language
of peace and love
I bring to Old Age welcome respite
from an inclination to turn back the pages
of memory, wishing we had done
things differently, trod more carefully
among muddy leaves of desire,
considered the needs of others more
in our anxiety to leave footprints
of memorable endeavour once left to wing
time’s corridor forever
Oh, I can be cruel (can’t we all?) Yet, no finer
teacher of life’s ways than I, called Laughter
Copyright R. N. Taber 2010
Labels: human nature, human spirit, humour, laughter, life forces, love, mind-body-spirit, nature, personal space, poetry, positive thinking, satire, society
posted by R. N. Taber | 07:57
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