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].

Name:
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.

Sunday 12 June 2022

A Nature Lover's Dream

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

“In nature, nothing is perfect and everything is perfect. Trees can be contorted, bent in weird ways, and they’re still beautiful.” - Alice Walker

“Forget not that the earth delights to feel your bare feet and the winds long to play with your hair.” - Khalil Gibran

“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.”- Henry David Thoreau

As a child, I had to attend Sunday School at the local Baptist Church. I once asked the pastor why trees had to die in winter. “It’s a time’s eye view of life…” he replied and went on to explain; I would have been about ten and the phrase has stayed with for the best part of sixty60+ years although I have never heard it again. Mind you, as regular readers know, I have had significant hearing problems all my life, so… wry bardic grin

I already had a problem with conventional religion even then and suspect it was during that very conversation that I began my journey into Pantheism, although it would be many years before I even came across the word... 

A NATURE LOVER'S DREAM

There is a mountain,
I would have climbed if I could,
if only to stand
on its splendid snow-capped peak
be lord of all I survey;
spirit willing, but flesh weakened 
by fear and self-doubt,
even as it embraced mind-body-spirit
day and night, year in, year out

I’d visit the mountain,
gaze in awe at its magnificence,
envy climbers
with the courage and determination
to achieve their goal,
only ever vaguely aware of the earth
beneath my feet,
a breeze in my hair, birdsong everywhere,
asking only that I but look-see-hear

To reach the mountain,
I had first to negotiate woodlands,
the snowy peak,
my guide. my passion a life force in me,
reasoning not the need,
fuelling imagination with a desperation
vying for my every heartbeat
where I chanced to fall on a carpet of grass
in a cathedral of leaves

Once, I lay there awhile,
listening to a choir of wildlife sounds 
washing over me
like a light, sweet-smelling seasonal rain
watched butterflies,
heard crickets chirping, sat up to glimpse
a fallow deer peering at me
through a veil of leaves, a curious empathy
bonding us all too briefly

Slowly I found my feet again,
loath to leave so beautiful and natural
a creation, a heaven
of sensibility on earth, hand in glove 
with Earth Mother;
above, below, within, heart-and-soul 
delivering an epiphany,
conveying the presence of a live' spirituality
quantifying all humanity

Less fearful now of Time’s eye, even death,
for being promised to the earth

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022
















 


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Friday 21 January 2022

Life and Soul

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

"The soul is placed in the body like a rough diamond, and must be polished , or the lustre of it will never appear." - Daniel Defoe  

As I have said many times before, I respect anyone’s deeply held religious beliefs, but reserve the right to criticise certain aspects of it and/or their interpretation, just as likewise, they are free to criticise my own perspective.

There is nothing sinful or abusive in agreeing to differ, so long as it is not conveyed in an offensive manner; sadly, it is not a point of view I have found in many people where their religion is concerned, yet I’m expected to accept being called a blasphemer, or worse, without being given much (if any) opportunity to defend the how-and-why of my own feelings.

There are exceptions, of course, and I have felt privileged to meet a good few throughout my adult life; people with a natural warmth and interest in others, regardless of ethnicity, religion (or non-religion) and, yes sexuality too.

I have said as much before on the blogs and I will say it again, that it is a tragedy how, in this 21st century of ours, such prejudices persist, not least in certain religions in failing to see how they lay themselves wide open to accusations of hypocrisy.

Religion literally puts the fear of God in many people, to the extent they are scared of dying in case they are called to account for... whatever haunts them. Appearing before a court on Earth is a traumatic enough experience, but the expectation of a Judgement Day, and possibly ending up in Hell for all eternity with no leave to appeal.... that is terrifying.  A former colleague once sympathised with the certainty of my going to Hell because I am gay, and she may well be right, but when I commune with nature, I sense more love than retribution in the sense of spirituality it conveys to and settles on mind-body-spirit.

 It is through nature that I came to pantheism, the ides that God is nature, not its creator. The message I have always taken from nature is one of nurture and hope, even for the likes of we fallible human beings. So, I don’t fear death, only a prolonged dying and the pain of it, emotional as well as physical. It is why I have supported the Dignity in Dying campaign for some years. Some readers may care to look it up at: https://www.dignityindying.org.uk – even  make a donation...?

LIFE AND SOUL

Religion can but point the way
to its own interpretation of spirituality
as defined by its own agenda,
but Mind-Body-Spirit as per each of us
is as likely to encourage
a self-awareness that, in turn, lends us all
the spirituality we call ‘soul’

A soul may or may not lend itself
to the poetry and prose of any religion,
be persuaded by the rhetoric
of certain preachers to their followers,
while the human self
in all walk of life, is blessed with a capacity
for an all-inclusive spirituality

Where congregations in any place
set aside for any sentiments of worship
may well bring comfort and joy
to those who come to seek and find it,
the human soul needs only
that we take heart from the same life forces
as united to give birth to us... 

It is a sense of and hunger for peace
and love in all humanity that does battle
with its demons of all persuasions
that may well appeal to its baser desires
effecting a takeover
refusing to acknowledge or give any priority
to the spirituality that is humanity

In nature and human nature,
a kind of poetry to be sought and found,
by whomsoever cares to bid
their native senses ignore worldly rhetoric,
whatever it takes
to discover - or rediscover, as the case may be,
an all-inclusive spirituality...

 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022


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Tuesday 8 December 2020

Christmas 2020 OR Love Rules OK

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

Hi folks, 

Yes, I’m back, still feeling poorly, but managed to write a poem. . 

Not one for sending Christmas cards, I have nevertheless written many a poem in lieu, by way of letting friends know I am thinking of them, blog readers too. 

Coming up with a poem this year has not been easy, its having been the worst many, if not most of us have ever had to endure. Hopefully, it captures something of that love and peace which Christmas celebrates, whether or not in the name of Jesus Christ, albeit I suspect he would approve. For me, Jesus is an outstanding historical figure for whom I have the greatest respect, but have never been able to come to grips with the idea of a personified God. I share the view of the pantheists of old, that God is nature rather than its creator. 

While I respect all world religions, we must simply agree to differ. We are a diverse, common humanity whose differences don't make us different, just human. 

Now that various vaccines are already or potentially on their way, I feel better able to wish you all a Happy Christmas, Covid-19 and Brexit chaos notwithstanding. 

Hugs, 

Roger 

CHRISTMAS 2020 or LOVE RULES OK

Christmas 2020,
will be as never before,
no carol singers
at anyone’s front door
earning extra pocket money,
hoping for more 

Christmas 2020,
a more subdued occasion,
less decoration
to mark its celebration
with fewer family or friends
able to join in 

Christmas 2020,
will see a relaxing of rules
across the UK
regarding a coronavirus
with no respect for human life
(or Christmas) 

Christmas 2020,
seeing last-ditch Brexit talks
on tenterhooks
lest they should fail,
EU and UK last seen dangling
from the same nail

 Christmas 2020,
empty chairs at its grand feast,
in remembrance
of favourite ghosts
to whom we’ll raise our glasses
and give toasts 

Christmas 2020,
whatever our religion (or none)
we can but agree
it’s l-o-v-e rules OK
in offering gifts of comfort and joy,
come what may

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

[Note: For those of you who visit both poetry blogs, this post-poem will also appear on my gay  blog today.]

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Saturday 3 October 2020

Autumnal Life Forces

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

This poem first appeared on the blog in 2012; it has been slightly but significantly revised since I included it in my collection, Accomplices to Illusion, 2007. I am hoping to publish new editions of my earlier collections at some future date; they will mostly comprise revised versions of poems from first editions.

Having just finished my first new collection since 2012, I am approaching publishers, but may need to self-publish again as many just don't like the idea of general and gay-interest poems under one cover; Then, just one more collection before I tackle any new editions. As I will be 75 soon, I can but hope that old age and Covid-19 will keep me alive long enough. <<wry bardic grin>>

Meanwhile ...

love autumn. I don't find it a depressing season. The incredible colours of turning leaves never fail to fill me with passion along the lines of optimism, hope, and defiance even at a time of sadness for the beginnings of endings … 

However hard a winter we may endure, we can always look forward to a kinder spring and new beginnings, such is the way of the natural world, ours too if we but let ourselves access the kinder human spirit; religion does not have a monopoly on

spirituality. (As regular readers know, I do not subscribe to any religion as such, although I do relate very strongly to Pantheists who see God as nature, rather than its creator.)



AUTUMNAL LIFE FORCES 

In a garden spread with dead leaves
and heads of flowers,
I once heard tales told by a dying rose
soon to breathe its last,
about a Man in Red passing through
the world, scaring us
like the Bogey Man in hiding
under a child's bed, pretending to roar
like a dragon up for sport,
despite as vulnerable a heartbeat
as an ageing pet

Neither young nor old, a Man in Red
wears buttons of gold
on a coat the colour of blushing cheeks
at our making a faux pas,
made to look as small as a toy dragon
under the bed, where dawn
is prologue to adventure and sunset
fingers of blood, though 
we'll be safe enough tucked away
in bed, free to dream, and tomorrow
is another day ... 

According to the rose, the Man in Red
has kindly ways, in spite 
of inviting cloud and wind to feed 
on gentle trees,
rip them bare while a few songbirds
dare to watch and wonder
how sounds of war become songs 
of peace, fear become joy,
leaving a friendly Sandman free
to paint over the bleakest scenarios
with bold colours
 

"He comes for us all, and we must depart,
to engage forever with the human heart."

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2020

[Note: Photo taken from the Internet. An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Autumn is a Man in Red' in Accomplices to Illusion by R, N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]

 

 

 

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Wednesday 2 September 2020

Extracts from a Pantheist's Diary


Most if not all of us fear death, not least during a Here-and-Now during which the Covid-19 coronavirus continues to take its toll around the world; it is that ultimate unknown which even the bravest and most adventurous among us are loath to try and test. Try and test for what, exactly?  Our reward or punishment for … whatever? In what form, pray? Heaven, Hell, or (worse) nothing at all, no acknowledgement that we ever lived? 

If the beauty of religion is that it offers answers, the beauty of philosophy has to be that it opens up possibilities of which we are invited to take our pick.

It could be said that history is a continuing story-poem of nature and human nature, root and branch from birth to …what, death? Our death, yes, but we are, each and everyone of us, a part of that story-poem, all making a contribution for better, for worse.

Tales and poems take on a life of their own according to how they are read/ interpreted by the teller or reader; they don’t end once the telling or reading of them ends … but leave various impressions over which we mull and work through for ourselves over a lifetime, rarely aware that we are even doing so, playing a part – big or small – in how we develop as human beings in relation to both nature, human nature and our fellow human beings; love, love-hate, fear, egotism …few if any of us, are denied such felt-experiences. 

Such a continuing felt-experience perhaps, is - death - if only in our being assimilated into a Common Unknown, trusting such kindred mind-spirits as characterise human love, in all its kinder shapes and forms, to pass on what the body cannot …?

EXTRACTS FROM A PANTHEIST’S DIARY

I fear you Death,
and yet I fear you not at all;
the journey to Forever
will be sure to take me far
from the reality I have come
to love-hate-adore
into that world of silence
I much prefer, wherein feelings
speak louder than words,
among the pioneers,
and positive thinkers of times
when Naysayers
needs must concede a victory
(of sorts) to a creativity
and philosophy of arts, sciences,
seeking to play a part
in Change for the Better through
seasons of the human heart

The trail from life
to death is as likely to take
an eternity to follow
in the footmarks of history’s
great minds, kind hearts
and all those men and women
encouraging us to pass on
with the parts that make us human
generation to generation,
how the last word in an education
of mind-body-spirit,
bringing together all we learn
while passing through life
(as we know it)
is love, its sheer poetry alone
reconciling all nature
and human nature with an empathy
that’s an existential future

I fear you, Death, 
but as an Unknown, the spirit
of a poem living on
in such hearts and minds 
as may have read
between its lines, seen what a poet
is trying to say in words
that cannot hope to compete 
with the wisdom
of any mind-body-spirit
needing to make itself truly felt
so as to convey something
of that on which motivation feeds,
inspiration anxious
to catch falling stars, if only
for any who empathise
with 'live' fingers configuring an eternity
wherein their history lies...

Copyright R N. Taber 2020. 2021

[Note: This poem first appeared on the blog last year. I have only recently revised it in so far as adding the last stanza.] RNT 25/5/2021



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Thursday 18 June 2020

It is what it is... or is it?

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

Now and then readers email me  to ask if I consider myself an atheist or agnostic because I am gay and, if not, why not…?

Over the years (I'm in my 70's now) I have lost count of the times I have been told by members of various religious groups that I will go to hell for being gay. A colleague at work once told me that she enjoyed working with me, and she was sorry I would go to hell (for being gay.) If we had not been in a busy public library at the time, I would have given her as good as I was getting, but I kept a tactful silence. If she interpreted my silence as a respectful one, she could not have been more wrong; her religion I respect, yes, its bigotry, no. Fortunately not all religious people are bigots, and I have felt privileged, indeed, to meet some of them.

So ... God is a homophobe? Evangelical Christians and the majority of Muslims are by far the worst, for being homophobic, but I exclude none. (While Judaism is inclined towards a liberal attitude towards LGBT issues, most Orthodox Jews stop well short of sanctioning LGBT relationships.) For this reason, I am publishing this post/poem on both blogs; it first appeared in 2017. Regular readers will know that I have every respect for all religious faiths, but as a human being (who happens to be gay) I have the right of reply ... don't I?

At school, 50+ years ago, we were once asked to write an essay about ‘Secrets’. This was preceded by a class discussion on the subject during which we were all agreed that secrets are hard to keep, especially from family and friends. Someone made an unkind remark about gays not being ‘out’ to which the teacher responded with a wry shrug that “Time outs us all, in the end. The trick is to get in first, before gossip and ignorance can do their worst.’ This comment certainly livened up the debate, but I missed most of what was being said for dwelling on the concept of Time ‘outing us all in the end.’ It is so true. Gay or straight, it is a rare person that has no secrets; invariably these come out, if not during their lifetime then in the course of events following their death.

I only came out to a few people until a bad nervous breakdown in my 30’s finally rid me of all self-consciousness about my sexuality. Even then, though, I trod carefully through what I had known for years as a minefield of public opinion. The breakdown had lasted several years before I found the confidence to face the world again. During this time, I explored human nature through avid reading and writing poetry, both of which had already stood me in good stead at university.

Being gay is, of course, only one aspect of human nature, one part of a complex whole. It has always been the whole that interests me although, obviously, I have a special interest in the gay aspect. Some gay people seem to find it strange that I write general as well as gay-interest poetry. But…why not? Being gay is a very significant part of who I am, yes, but I can hardly ignore the rest of me, those other parts that make me who and what I am. Well, can I...?

In my 70’s now, I often look back and wish I had done things differently (as in ‘better’) but I guess we are all victims of our circumstances up to a point, and my circumstances have often conspired against me. Yet, I am no victim in the sense that I made my own choices, albeit not always the right ones.

Many who subscribe to a religion have told me I will forfeit Heaven and go to Hell although I suspect we make our own heaven and hell as our lives take shape by our own hand. So is death the end of all things, I wonder? I have no idea, but as a nature lover, take comfort from the way nature nurtures itself, and spring follows winter. Love, too, never dies even as lovers and loved ones pass away. I suppose I put what Faith I have in nature and love rather than in any religion since, from both, I have always taken a strong sense of spirituality. As to whether or not that sense of spirituality is seen as a sufficiently positive force in my poetry  to pass into living memory after my death, only time will tell.

No agnostic or atheist, me, but a pantheist. 

IT IS WHAT IT IS…OR IS IT?

Time running out,
mind-body-spirit left floundering
among regrets
for missed opportunities, rushes
to misjudgement,
and plain, everyday mistakes
with consequences...
for there can be no payback
equal to the task
of making reparation for any flaws
in humankind

No sense of a God
likely to extend any forgiveness
to the likes of me,
unable to relate to any Heaven
(potential safe haven)
throughout a lifetime of struggling
to make sense of dogma
interpreted by Religion’s finest
as leave to preach
a Politics of the Heart making sense
of humankind

How then to approach
the End of Things in the absence
of any New Beginning
other than as some deactivated spirit
gone to ashes, dust,
someone else’s (imperfect) memory,
there to endure
a kindly ‘eternity’ that sits more easily
on the tongue than ‘death’
while advocating spiritual qualities
in humankind?

I have asked this of poems
that have dogged my every footstep
from child to senior,
no one answer offered (or confirmed)
but a sense of moving
through time (other than growing old)
acting out tales passed on
by ghosts about leaving footprints;
no one left behind
but (together) creating a continuum
called humankind

To each, our own way,
engaging with the greater mysteries
of life and death,
finding such comfort as we can,
pinning our finer hopes
on what’s better, kindlier, said
and done, wiser choices
than less so, promise nurtured
or left unfulfilled
for an indefinable social conscience
to define us as it will

Whatever, it is what it is, and Time
will out us all one way or another…

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017; 2020

[Note: this poem/ post also appears on my gay-interest blog today.]

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Sunday 19 January 2020

Stumbling Blocks

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

While I continue to replace originals in my print collections with any later revised poems in preparation for publishing online at a later date, I have also decided that, once having completed the task, I will first publish a collection of the most  popular poems on the blogs; this way,  readers will be able to dip into them should Google delete my blogs once I have gone walkies with the Grim Reaper.

I have to confess that I am finding even  my early 70's heavy going on a daily basis. I am 74 now, live alone, and seem to deal with just about everything so much worse than I used to. Inclined to get everyday crises out of proportion, to say I am less than happy with my quality of life these days is an understatement. 

I used to be happy enough living on my own, but now I often feel isolated, probably because I have so much less of a social life these days. Even so, I have much to be thankful for, especially a best friend without whom my life would be unbearable. 
  
Life could be better, for sure, but it could also be much worse so...as good a reason as any to continue taking my cue from Monty Python, and always look on the bright side of life; well, nearly always... (My cue for visiting nearby Hampstead Heath, where the  peace and beauty of nature can always be relied upon to clear even the most dissatisfied mind-body-spirit.)
.
I guess growing old(er) was never meant to be an easy journey. Writing poetry helps; in my head, I can hear Ella Fitzgerald singing 'A Satisfied Mind', and do my best to achieve just that...

STUMBLING BLOCKS

Stumbling so, my years
across a shifting sea of sand;
the poetry of unshed tears

In a haze that never clears
though blind faith withstand,
stumbling so, my years

A sad heart’s secret fears
expected to make a last stand; 
the poetry of unshed tears

Deafened by global cheers
at some false god’s command,
stumbling so, my years

World, too, nursing its fears,
(failing to stay a logger’s hand);
the poetry of unshed tears

Peace, it all but disappears,
under layers of dissatisfied mind;
stumbling so, my years,
the poetry of unshed tears


 Copyright R. N. Taber 2007
[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in 'On the Battlefields of Love' by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]

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Thursday 16 January 2020

A Parting Gift OR Mind-Body-Spirit, Bottom Line

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

A new poem today as I work my way through New Year blues, and try to rise above them. Oh, I will get there, but it becomes so much harder as the years pass...

As regular readers well know, I do not subscribe to any religion although I think of myself as a pantheist relating closer to Earth Mother. I was once asked if I feared death as I envisage no Heaven. Well, I don't fear death as such, only any pain that might come first. The human spirit, though, lives on in the hearts and minds of any it has touched during a person's lifetime and it's that posthumous consciousness I see as a kind of afterlife, our parting gift to a common humanity of which, for better or worse,we play a part all our lives.

Many if not most of us look back on our lives as we grow old, good times and bad, wondering if we could have done better, and if we have made any real difference at all; questions to which few of us have all the answers, only shadows; We can but hope our being here has made some difference to someone, somewhere, and for the better.

A PARTING GIFT or MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, BOTTOM LINE

As we grow old,
so, too, find us chasing shadows
across the mind;
memories come to haunt us
for good and ill;
dreamy days, nightmare days,
in-between days,
mind-body-spirit left to make sense
of it all

As we grow old,
years like passers-by try to read
our changing faces,
leave us asking of time and space
just how much
of all they see (or think they see)
is fact, wishful thinking,
or home truths we’ve spent a lifetime
hiding from

As we grow old,
our shadows deepen, linger longer
as if daring us
to catch them like butterflies
in a net,
no harm meant, but pleasure spent
in showing nature
who’s king-pin, aware of Earth Mother
looking on

As we grow old,
so tearfully we’ll recall butterfly wings
on a bedroom wall,
rare species, a collector’s boast
for catching the most
in Class 3 B, earning a gold star,
one in the eye
for living things bright and beautiful, great
and small

Ah, but butterflies
enjoy but a brief life span, while old age
(if chasing shadows)
homes us in on splendid dawns,
starry nights,
sunny days of love, laughter,
family and friends,
where a rolling landscape of mind-body-spirit
never ends

Mortality, it catches up
with all live things, its kinder shadows
lending wings
to rise above time and space,
access realms
of least explored consciousness
and spirituality;
passport to eternity by way of life’s parting gift
to humanity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

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Thursday 19 June 2014

Shades of Eternity OR Love, Time Traveller


Love is as global as it is eternal, like centuries of birdsong composed by Earth Mother and meant to be enjoyed by everyone; no more or less so for its acolytes being gay or straight.

Lovemaking is as natural as a flower’s petals opening up to sunlight; no more or less so for its lovers being gay or straight.

If beauty is in the eye of beholder, the inner eye needs to see the clearer; no more or less so for our being gay or straight.

SHADES OF ETERNITY or LOVE, TIME TRAVELLER

Days, getting longer,
human spirit, all the stronger,
any pain worth enduring
for the sheer joy of its being
at one with Earth Mother

Eventide, lighter longer
human love, all the stronger
no pain (quite) eclipsing 
its eternal joy for (still) being 
at one with Earth Mother

World, no passing stranger
to seeing its peoples in danger,
left looking back in anger

for any straying from our being
at one with Earth Mother

Days, now getting shorter;
human heartbeats all the fainter,
though any sweet dreams
no less sweeter for our being
at one with Earth Mother

World, darkening sooner,
its lovers left hurting all the longer,
yet hearts beating the stronger
for celebrating their forever being
at one with Earth Mother

Come a world darker or lighter,
we are one with Earth Mother

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2014

[Note: An earlier version of this poem  appears in On The Battlefields Of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]








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