Hello again from London UK

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“Remembrance and reflection, how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.” – Alexander Pope

“We all need to get the balance right between action and reflections. With so many distractions, it is easy to forget to pause and take stock.” – Queen Elizabeth I I

“A Memory is a beautiful thing, it’s almost a desire that you miss.” Gustave Flaubert 

Hello again, dear readers, from London, UK,

Sorry, no poem today as I write this post from a UK in mourning for the loss of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth 11 who died at her beloved Balmoral home yesterday. 

To say she was a remarkable woman has to be the understatement of decades. She was poetry in motion, a stable presence in an ever-changing world. Indeed, I suspect that even those of us who never knew or met her, will feel her loss more deeply than they might have expected.

Meanwhile, our condolences and heartfelt good wishes go to the Royal Family as King Charles 111 prepares to take on his mother’s mantle and wear in in a way to make her and this world of our proud.

For many if not most of us, our journey through life can be tough at times. It is as such times when we need to do as Her late Majesty’s quote above suggests – pause and not only take stock but take heart as well. 

We should never lose sight of the bright(er) side of life; though it may well seem we are peering at it through a thickening fog, be sure the fog will clear and we will feel the light and warmth of the sun on our faces again. 

As regular readers will know, I consider myself a pantheist and agree with Frank Lloyd Wright whom I have quoted on the blog before as saying “I believe in God, only I spell it Nature.” 

God is Love, God is Nature, a living, permanent presence in us if we choose to let it in and help us on our way through the good, the bad and uglier aspects of the landscape that is life. 

Take care, everyone and many thanks, as always, for dropping by.  In the absence of any new poem-posts, you may enjoy dipping into the archives....?

Thinking of and rooting for you,

Hugs,

Roger

Majesty, Open Window on an Island History

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Today Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth 11 is ninety years-old, the longest serving monarch in British history. Here’s wishing Her Majesty a very Happy Birthday.

(Photo taken from the Internet)

There will be tributes paid across the world far greater than mine, but I could not let the occasion pass without marking it on the blog.

(Photo taken from the Internet)

Her Majesty at 90 and three kings-in-waiting,

(Photo taken from the Internet)

This poem is a villanelle.

MAJESTY, OPEN WINDOW ON AN ISLAND HISTORY

Sixty-four years on the throne,

dedicated to serving her country

a much loved, respected queen

A sunny smile for any occasion

marking milestones of pageantry,

sixty-four years on the throne

Classless greetings for everyone

unfazed by royalty, icon of dignity,

a much loved, respected queen

Her innermost thoughts unknown

to those she serves daily, faithfully,

sixty-four years on the throne

Horse riding, a life-time passion,

imaging a very human personality,

a much-loved, respected queen

No abuse of wealth of position

through years of political history;

sixty-four years on the throne,

a much loved, respected queen

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Deconstructing Cyberia

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[Update (August 15, 2016): It has been recently reported in the national press that Times Square in New York, Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and Disneyland Park in France are among tourist attractions where mobile phones are most likely to be hacked. Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, Ocean Park in Hong Kong and Las Vegas's strip are the next three mostly likely places, according to research by mobile threat defence company Skycure. Among the best suggestion to prevent hacking is always to use passwords, never share them, change them from time to time, and never program them into a mobile phone. It is also available never to keep any particularly sensitive personal data on a mobile phone for long. I imagine much the same applies to laptops and tablets.]

Regular readers will know that I try to record important if necessarily selective events in my poems and subsequent collections.

Yesterday, I listened to news breaking all afternoon about Rupert Murdoch's British newspapers [not only the News of the World] allegedly resorting to the most horrific tactics in the name of investigative journalism. Blagging, hacking into the phones of a murdered teenager and armed forces personnel killed on active duty...we are being told that these are allegedly among the usual suspects targeting just about anyone in the public eye hell bent on obtaining any information that might pass for ‘news’ considered to be ‘in the public interest.’  This is not (surely?) what investigative journalism is all about.

I have never cared for people like Rupert Murdoch. Even so, like many a business magnate through the centuries, he’s probably not the only Chief who may well have paid his Indians (and other Chiefs) to do any dirty work for him.

Mind you, we should never forget that questionable practices are in a minority even in journalism. Moreover, while we may not agree with whatever News any better practices may come up with, neither should we be quick to write anything or anyone off as either offensive or immoral, especially after consenting to show an interest either by pressing a button or turning a page. Even so, we cannot help but wonder just who may be listening in to our calls and/or monitoring our emails these days.

Perhaps the title of the poem should be Reconstructing Cyberia (for whatever purpose whomsoever may have in mind...?!) Whatever, one suspects it is happening on a very underestimated scale around the world, and this is the tip of a huge iceberg.

At school, 50+ years ago, we had a great English teacher, 'Jock' Rankin, who once spent several lessons illustrating and leading class discussions on how and why we should not accept any one version of what we read in newspapers or hear on the radio or see on television as necessarily objective, but to take account of various versions and form our own opinions. I not only count this amongst the most valuable advice I’ve ever been given, but also the most worthwhile lesson (if not the only one) that I took from my schooldays and have put into practice ever since.

This poem is a villanelle and will appear in my next major collection, Tracking the Torchbearer, next spring.

DECONSTRUCTING CYBERIA

Who (now) has the faintest idea
what’s right, wrong, true, false, hearsay,
regarding goings-on in the media?

Is no one safe from the blagger,
and whose phone was hacked into today?
Who (now) has the faintest idea?

Seedy types are exploiting Cyberia,
its millions of everyday tourists led astray
regarding goings-on in the media

Can intrusion into any private arena
be justified by pushing it Joe Public's way?
Who (now) has the faintest idea?

If one malpractice leads to another,
what's the right take on what is or isn't okay
regarding goings-on in the media?

Though no person or enterprise bigger
than a Free Press left to have an honest say,
who (now) has the faintest idea
regarding goings-on in the media?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

Casualties of Contemporaneity

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[Update (Sept 3, 2016): I fully support the Junior Doctors past and proposed strike action even though it will probably mean appointments for which I have already been waiting for a long time will be put back yet again among thousands of other people’s. It is all very well for Prime Minister, Theresa May  and Health Secretary, Jeremy Hunt to say we have more doctors than ever and the NHS is better funded than ever, but they are among the privileged classes who don’t have to wait months for an appointment or sit around in A & E for hours.  

Government ministers keep reminding us that the UK has an ageing population, but they clearly don’t have a clue as to how much stress that (and immigration) places on the NHS. As for the BMA (British Medical Association) apparently telling the Junior Doctors they should not strike, clearly it is in its best interest not to antagonise a Government more concerned with supporting the Establishment than the welfare of the ordinary man, woman and child in the street, for all Mrs May's fine words to the contrary. Well, no surprises there. Politicians are hot on rhetoric, but when it comes to relating to the world as it is for ordinary people, a significant number are cold fish.] - RNT

Now, all credit and thanks to hospital staff in the UK and around the world; the vast majority do a great job in what are often very stressful circumstances. (Too many patients and not enough staff to name but two.) Even so, I suspect there are few among us who haven’t had to endure a frustrating wait in Accident and Emergency Departments at some time or another.

Whatever, we would all do well to remember that our NHS is the envy of the world while those who abuse it should remember that it is not a free-for-all service, but paid for by those of us who pay into it all our working lives.

CASUALTIES OF CONTEMPORANEITY

No losing heart over fortune or fame
only that someone call my name;
might as well be the Invisible Man
for all anyone’s paying attention;
hours passing, hands on a clock keen
to mock our growing impatience;
(Time, alas, has little or no feeling
for outpatients)

From someone in the next chair,
an outpouring of despair;
on the other side, news of someone
who has just died;
a red-faced man making a big fuss
gets seen before the rest of us;
mutterings of acrimony overtaken
by a drunk causing havoc

Staff acting beyond call of duty
to end our panic;
a young woman in the front row,
waters breaking...
wheel-chaired away, partner flapping
and fretting,
can’t help wondering, girl or boy?
(Welcome distraction...)

Anxious to convey why we’re here, ;
in pain, tearful...
fearful of things getting worse
in spite of reassurance...
from that nice blond nurse, ready smile
and eyes a lively green
fooling no one. Some leaving without
being seen, dare I risk it?

Could murder a biscuit, a cup of tea too,
and need the loo;
ears prick up for a name, another,
pray be mine soon…
Just want to go home, but hurt all over,
must stay, wait my turn, can't face
all this angst again, could even be dead
by then...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2018

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Casualty' in The Third Eye: poems by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004; revised edition in e-format in preparation.]