Bitter Harvest
In
reality, there is no such thing as easy money. Even a huge lottery win is
rarely roses all the way and more often than not leaves a trail of heartbreak. Someone
recently mentioned that betting is easy money (he had just won £50 on a horse.)
Ah, but how many bets had he lost over years, I wondered? Even so, I resisted
the temptation to ask and risk throwing cold water on an old man’s elation.
Many
years ago, during a period of mental illness, I became addicted to fruit
machines and probably wasted thousands of pounds over a period of several
years. Fortunately, I am cured now and have a life. Gambling is no less
addictive than drugs, smoking or alcohol. It can destroy people and their
families. At the time, I was caught up in the protracted aftermath of a nervous
breakdown. That’s when addiction strikes, when we’re at our most vulnerable. It
can happen to anyone. So never give up on an addict, yeah? The challenge is
trying to prevent addicts giving up on themselves.
It is an
appalling indictment on contemporary society, especially given the stresses and
strains of modern living, that there are relatively few rehabilitation centres
or other avenues of help for addicts or those less obviously in the grip of
mental illness. They may be the last to admit, it but they need friends and
family to stand by them and be willing to go that last mile.
If you
know an addict (drugs, gambling, whatever) please, please, be there for them.
You won’t get much if anything by way of thanks, but no one can beat addiction
without support from someone who cares
that they should. Sometimes, yes, it’s a losing battle for everyone concerned,
but we have to try…for all our sakes.
Did I say
it was easy?
Every day, I hear someone say in the street, media, library, bus or train...words to the effect that there’s ‘easy’ money for the taking if we only play our cards right. No, I don’t think so, not unless those 'cards' happen to be in sync with the kinder or at least more responsible elements of mind-body-spirit.
BITTER HARVEST
Public
faces reaping
more
respect than many
have
earned the right
to expect
in modern times;
paper
tigers wandering
corridors
of power, seeking
an easy
prey, a nose
for more;
bits and pieces,
(when put
together)
likely to
create an incomplete
jigsaw
People
come and go,
all history
in the making,
fortunes for
the taking;
winners,
losers,
gamblers paying
respects
to palaces
of pleasure,
Stock
Exchanges,
After Hours bars ringing
with a
cacophony
of
celebration, despair,
whatever...
Worldwide,
trails
like
snails’ slime tracking
the best
and worst
of us, no
discrimination;
looking
to the future,
(things sure
to get better)
Family of
Man living
up to old
myths, bearing
fruits to feed a world
last observed harvesting
lemon trees
last observed harvesting
lemon trees
Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2014
[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in The Third Eye by
R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]
Labels: addiction, addicts, alcohol, carers, contemporaneity, drugs, gambling, help, human nature, life, mind-body-spirit, nature, personal space, poetry, rehabilitation, self-destruct, society, survival, tragedy
posted by R. N. Taber | 19:53
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