Damper, In-out-In ... OR Tempering the Human Consciousness

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

Today’s poem has not appeared on the blog since 2016; it was slightly revised in 2003 (for my collection the following year) from an earlier [1980's] poem, and you are invited to make of it what you will.

Now, in my 70's, I still find myself recalling the words of a song from early childhood:

Well, you push the damper in and you pull the damper out,

but the smoke goes up the chimney just the same…

I well recall what a teacher once said (n the 1950's) when I asked about philosophy, having read the word in a book and found a dictionary of little help. (I was 11 years-old.) ‘Philosophy,’ he mused, possibly more to himself than to me, ‘…is a vehicle for language devised by human nature to fire its passions without its having to commit to any responsibility other than just that. Think of the fireplace damper in your living room at home; the more it is opened, the more air to fuel the fire. So it is, as I see it, with philosophy. The more open a mind you apply, the fiercer the passions of intellect are sure to burn. On the other hand, if it’s absolute proof or even meaning you’re after, that is tantamount to the damper being closed and the fire left to go out. Either way, we have to be prepared for some smoke in our eyes ir not our Does that answer your question?’ It did not, of course (and I'm pretty sure he knew it) but I hadn’t the nerve to say so. Besides, my head was already swimming.

Years on, I begin to see the appropriateness of the simile although I should perhaps add that, as I progressed from first year to 6th form, I came to see my teacher, for whom I had much affection and respect, as something of a devil's advocate. As for philosophy, I am still inclined to see it as wisdom's get-out clause for explaining away everything and nothing.

DAMPER, IN-OUT-IN … or TEMPERING THE HUMAN CONSCIOUSNESS

Thoughts

drifting, circling,

sending us here, there,

everywhere,

ever homing in 

on us …

obscuring,

deluding and confusing

the senses about

who we are, 

where we’re going,

whatever will become

of us …?

Rumours

drifting, circling,

sending us here, there

everywhere,

ever homing in

on us ...

obscuring,

deluding and confusing 

rights and wrongs

keeping an eye on us

like buzzards

in a mist anticipating

our end

Hopes

drifting, circling,

sending us here, there,

everywhere,

ever homing in on us,

obscuring, 

resolving to get the better

of any delusion

or confusion driving us

to ask who we are, 

going where,

whatever will become

of us …?

History

drifting, circling,

sending us here, there,

everywhere,

feeding leftover dreams

to mind-body-spirit,

intending to reassure us

who we are,

and going where, if only

we can get it right,

wherever it is we need

to be going,

whatever will become

of us

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem was first published under the title Smokescreen in an anthology Sometimes I Wonder, Anchor Books [Forward Press] 2004 and subsequently in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005]