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.

Monday 29 June 2020

R-O-O-T-S, Species of Moss Uncovered OR History, Cause and Effect

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

Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2012.

Many of us are fascinated by our family history, and have been very frustrated by the closure of research libraries and archives due to the Covid-19 coronavirus pandemic.

Our predecessors carry the secrets of our genes which, in turn, help to shape who we are and what we make of our lives; a posthumous consciousness to which I often refer in my poems. Hopefully, more will be opening up as C-16 restrictions are gradually lifted ... so long as a second wave doesn't hit sooner rather than later.

Fingers (and toes) crossed; crossed, too for the re-opening of public libraries, of course.

But, oh, to be on the family history trail...!

This poem is a villanelle.

R-O-O-T-S, SPECIES OF MOSS UNCOVERED or HISTORY, CAUSE AND EFFECT

Challenging history,
moss on graveyard stone defies
what we call, identity

Traits of a personality
but a strategy ancestors devise,
challenging history

Shades of mystery
conspiring to spring surprise;
what we call, identity

A cliff-hanging story
of hope and glory, love and lies
challenging history

An affinity with mortality
drawn from family archives;
what we call, identity

A feeling for eternity,
whatever its ends may comprise;
challenging history,
what we call, identity


[From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

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Thursday 6 October 2011

Past-Present-Future, Time Traveller

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

I can be whimsical, even quirky in some poems. Some readers enjoy this, some hate it while it would appear that yet others can even feel inspired.

Today’s poem has not appeared on the blog since 2008. I have been asked to repeat it by ‘Angela’ who has been in touch to say, ‘...it inspired [me] to start tracing [my] family tree, with such amazing results that I am now passionately into genealogy.’

Good luck with that, Angela.

PAST-PRESENT-FUTURE, TIME TRAVELLER

One day I visited a churchyard
looking for a gravestone;
I found it, but only after hours
foraging among weeds;
I knelt down and cleared away
years of moss and grime;
in time, I could even make out
a legend, dates, a name

I felt cold, cheated, no feelings
of compassion for the dead;
here lay a total stranger, albeit
of my family line (so what?);
it filled a box on the family tree;
the rest, but photographs,
letters, and a diary with pages
faded or missing

I’d found what I was looking for
so why linger there?
I tried to leave. My legs refused
to do as I wanted;
I couldn’t move, even after a few
conspiratorial drops of rain;
then the stone opened like a door,
and I needed no telling

I entered, began feeling my way
along a gloomy tunnel;
in a light at the end stood a man,
his features obscured;
as I closed in, he spoke. I strained
to hear a choked voice
saying it was ages since anyone
had sought him out

He said I had the family likeness
and it meant a lot to see;
then he was gone and I was left
staring at a gravestone;
that day I visited a churchyard
looking for family,
I found it, and was infinitely
glad I’d come

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

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