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.

Friday 24 April 2020

L-I-F-E, Seasons in Time and (Personal) Space

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

A reader writes, how can you write poetry when the world is being devastated and left bereft by COVID-19? I am not sure if this is meant as criticism or compliment so will take it as both. Well, it 
isn’t easy, even at the best of times, to compose a poem that attempts to strike a balance between a celebration of nature and human nature while also acknowledging their flaws. 

Given that the Here-and-Now in the shape of COVID-19 is probably among the worst of times ever for many of us, the task has felt all but Herculean; it has taken several days of writing and rewriting to arrive at the poem below. Hopefully, most readers will get a sense of the spirit of optimism in which it was written, but as we all know, you can please some of the people some of the time but never all the people all the time …

Whatever, fingers crossed …

Another reader comments, “… it feels like we are heading for Armageddon.”  Well, I take his or her point, but beg to differ. I have had my fair share of ups and downs in life, and if the experience has taught me nothing else, it has shown me the power of positive thinking.

Never underestimate the human spirit, neither its natural resourcefulness nor its compassion; we may well find ourselves at the edge of some transcendental abyss from time to time, but the human spirit will always lend us the strength to resist diving into it if we can but touch base. Never easy, and sometimes we fail; it has worked, for me - albeit more subconsciously than consciously - more than once, but especially when I had a bad nervous breakdown in my early 30’s and attempted suicide.  (I will be 75 later this year.)

To date, I know of only one friend who has died of a COVID-19 related illness; we played together as children, lost touch for years and found each other again online a few years ago. Every death is a tragedy for family and friends left behind.  At the same time, I am reminded of something a teacher at my old school back in the 1950’s told the class: “Love and friendship never dies, not only for remaining a part of us all our lives, but also for that part of them in us being passed on in ways and to people we may never know … and so it goes on. A university lecturer would later refer to it as a posthumous consciousness to which, as regular readers will know, I often make reference in my blogs and poems.

Remembrance is no compensation for loss, but I have always found it a great comfort to sense that no one’s life has ever been in vain since we all make a positive contribution even if we don’t always realise it. [Some readers may get a greater sense of my mindset here from my reading of my poem,  ‘The Enchanted Wood’ @  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGCv54LM4yo ]

I am not a religious person, and consider myself a pantheist. Nor do I believe that religion has a monopoly on spirituality. In the sense that I try to give the human spirit a voice in my poems, hopefully they express something of the spirituality with which I invariably engage as I write them.

Wishing you all love and peace, whoever and wherever you are in the world,

Hugs,


Roger

L-I-F-E, SEASONS IN TIME AND (PERSONAL) SPACE

Spring arrives, offering all nature
and human nature a time to nurture
and flower, making such promises
as it craves will see our lives spread joy
on our graves

Summer comes, offering all nature
and human nature a time to give senses
their head, deck humanity with love
and peace, see any living nemeses left
for dead

Autumn comes, reworking all nature
by winds and rain enough to blow away
its debris, imploring mind-body-spirit
remain free before winter dares impose
captivity

Winter comes, nature, so eerily quiet
but for redbreast, forever making the best
of the worst, coaxing the human heart
into the Spirit of Stoicism, living metaphor
for its heroism 

Nature and human nature, deserving
a time to come, go, rest, and come again
in light and dark, each in its turn,
a measure of life and death, come ultimate
Harvest Home

Copyright R N. Taber, 2020

[Note: As requested by several readers, this poem will appear in my next collection 'Addressing the Art of Being Human' that I am working on now.]

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