http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
Todays poem first appeared on the blog in 2012; I recorded it on You Tube at the time:
‘Powerless Structures is the
beautifully created figure of a boy on a rocking horse and was the latest art work
to grace the 4th plinth in London’s Trafalgar Square.
The poem I have recorded over the video unfolded in my mind the more I
considered what the sculpture meant to me personally. The rocking horse that
stood by my bedroom window when I was just a boy provided an escape from the
harsher realities with which, as a child, I was poorly equipped to cope. My
imagination would let fly and take me into magical realms of fantasy, fairy
tale and legend as regular readers of my blogs and/or collections know. .
Hopefully, video and poem
complement each other in such a way that where the poem is a fairly personal
take on the sculpture, the video leaves plenty of space for the viewer to bring
his or her own take to this bronze figure of a boy on a rocking horse and
latest art work to grace the 4th plinth in London’s Trafalgar Square.
In line with the existing
iconography of the other statues in the square, the child is elevated to the
status of a historical hero. However, where they acknowledge the heroism of the
powerful, this work celebrates the heroism of growing up. The image of a young
boy astride his rocking horse encourages observers to consider the less
spectacular events in their lives, which are often the most important.
Danish artists Michael Elmgreen and
Ingar Dragset are widely reported as saying it was “up to the public to love it
or hate it, but hopefully not ignore it."
Never ignored, that’s for sure.
BOY ON A ROCKING HORSE
Boy on a rocking horse,
rocking to and fro,
are you part of a happy family,
and do they love you so?
As a child in my bedroom,
I used to rock to and fro,
looking out of my window
at the garden below …
One day, at my window,
rocking to and fro,
a swallow settled on the sill
and said, ‘Hello.'
‘Don’t you ever get fed-up
just rocking to and fro
when there’s so much to see,
scores of places to go?’
‘There’s far, far, more to life
than rocking to and fro.
Fly with me and see the world,’
said the swallow.
If I had been happy enough
rocking to and fro,
now I longed to see the world
like the swallow
I became, oh, but so excited
that I rocked to and fro
so hard that, suddenly, I took off
through the window;
at first, flying was a
terrific thrill
(after just rocking to and fro)
seeing how people, places, animals,
make up the world we know
Then I recalled my little room
where I’d rock to and fro,
believing my folks would miss me
and how I loved them so.
‘Please, swallow, take me home
where I can rock to and fro,
feel I belong, be part of a family
if only because I miss it all so.’
The swallow then took me home,
to just rock to and fro
by a window, looking on a
garden
in a house (still) haunting me so
as any child who ever dreamed
while rocking to and fro
on a safe, friendly rocking horse
will, oh, but surely know
I know you, Boy on a Rocking Horse;
we met years ago, in a looking
glass
Copyright R. N. Taber 2012