Wannabe Hero or the Real Thing?
A 'regular' blog reader has contacted me via the the Comments Box to ask that I repeat the link to an interview I gave about my poetry to a postgraduate student of multi-media journalism who emailed to ask if I would mind being the subject of a project. Benjamin Richter, a very talented young man, and I have his permission to post the link on my blog. As the blog reader did not give an e-mail address, I am posting it here in the hope that he or she will read today's post. You may need to copy the link into your browser to access:
https://r224e31251.racontr.com/index.html
We all have our own take on dreams, psychiatrists not the least. Many if not most of us like to think of ourselves as - subconsciously at least - painters of our own dreams rather than simply subjected to whatever some proverbial Sandman happens to dish us. Some years ago, someone put to me that the greater part of what we know as wakefulness is but a dream, and the greater part of what we call sleep, a living nightmare. An interesting hypothesis, I thought at the time, and wondered how we would be expected to tell to which mind-body and spirit truly belongs...?
I guess it's much as my old English Teacher, 'Jock' Rankin used to say, "You can set your mind to anything if you try, Taber, but don't always expect to succeed, and never forget there is always a price to pay one way or another."
For the record, I am still trying...
WANNABE HERO OR THE REAL THING?
I've painted pictures
only I will ever get to see,
an alternative reality
to the world surrounding me,
confounding me, creating
an alternative persona to one
I am meant to be
I have lived in pictures
where only I will ever go,
a surrealist panorama
of the world surrounding me,
confounding me,
creating the kind of person
I 'm not meant to be
Ah, but in every picture
I'll never (really) get to see
a vibrant wood
for a heavily painted tree
or sail an ocean
for expecting its every wave
to answer to me
I might even mistake
cloud shapes for skylarks,
even missing out
on nature's other songs
for starry heavens
inviting a poet's (wry) take
on life and death
There are no people
in my pictures, smiling,
waving, kissing...
only ghosts, ever gesturing
loss, regret, and pain,
daring me to make the best
of a sorry world
I archive the pictures
only I will ever get to see
an alternative reality
to all that's surrounding us,
(still) confounding us,
making of us what we will,
we sleepwalkers
Though the memory
exhibit visions of the mind,
imaging what lies
behind the world's chaos
and our confusion,
let's not mistake art for life,
risk missing out
Copyright R. N. Taber 2015
Labels: alter ego, alternative reality, ambition, disillusionment, dreams, gender identity, hope, human nature, human spirit, illusion, imagination, life, life forces, love, mind-body-spirit, nature, personal space, poetry
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