A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...

Thoughts and observations by English poet Roger N. Taber, a retired librarian and poet-novelist.- "Ethnicity, Religion, Gender, Sexuality ... these are but parts of a whole. It is the whole that counts." RNT [NB While I have no wish to create a social network, I will always reply to critical emails about my poetry. Contact: rogertab@aol.com].

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Location: London, United Kingdom

Sadly, a bad fall in 2012 has left me with a mobility problem, and being diagnosed with prostate cancer the same year hasn't helped, but I get out and about with my trusty walking stick as much as I can, take each day as it comes and try to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. Many of my poems reflect the need to nurture a positive-thinking mindset whatever life throws at us.

Tuesday, 13 March 2012

Jottings from a Poet's Notebook

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

Of all the seasons of mind-body-spirit, spring has to be the best even if its summer should prove to be the most enjoyable; brimming with hope and anticipation, renewal and potential, it conspires with the human heart to bring out the best of us provided we let it, and self awareness is alert to how personal space both perceives, interprets and subsequently receives the world around us.

Oh, but it is so good to be alive on a beautiful day when we dare tell ourselves, if only briefly, how all that's dark and horrible in the world cannot touch us...

Spring itself may be near or far, but there is such a phenomenon as springtime of the heart and just how near or far that is remains up to us.

We need to feel the adrenalin, go with the flow...if only so we know the next BAD day/s won't last forever and life really IS worth the living whatever it may throw at us along the way.

JOTTINGS FROM A POET'S NOTEBOOK

Clouds, like soft soap bubbles giving
shape to wet dreams;
birds, but pretty spots on tired eyes,
a cacophony on the ear;
trees, like the bony legs of old men
arms flung wide, welcoming

Leaves, like prayer beads in the hands
of a dying nun;
grass, a doormat enduring the heavy
tread of world competition;
Earth, but a lump of clay, potential
for centuries of ambition

Ah, but a fair butterfly, fair phoenix
flying in the face of despair;
grasshoppers, joining in a hymn
to Earth Mother,
she, with the enigmatic smile,
all senses alive to spring

Daffodils, cheering us all on, no matter
if we win or lose
in ways of life, love, war and peace
few of us get to choose;
redeeming the world's false starts,
open windows, open hearts

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012


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