Mysterious Ways

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

I often refer to ghosts in my poems. Do I believe in ghosts? Oh, yes, I certainly do.  Here, though, the ghost is simply a metaphor in the manner of many poets, writers, and artists before me and I dare say many more to come…

A metaphor, for what, did you say? Ah, therein lies the secret of the kenning form of poetry; you usually have to read it to discover the narrator’s true identity.

MYSTERIOUS WAYS

I am the ghosts

of seasons taking their cue

from all around me,

busy recreating roles to play

that I dare step back into

once choice comes into its own

while (still) denying access 
to any 'live' past-present-future

offering to make peace

I am the ghosts

of seasons taking their cue

from a restless heart,

invading the enquiring mind,

seeking to be reconciled

with whatever moral order

loath to acknowledge

no (conscious) harm ever done 
in agreeing to differ

I am the ghosts
of every season's fretting

about fulfilling

its potential, whether physical,

psychological, emotional

or, yes, sexual, since you ask 

(and well you might)

given that we're both working out
a full life sentence

I am Conscience, human nature's diary,
the sum total of its eternal mystery

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

One plus One makes The-Two-of-Us

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

Many if not most of us quite often think we could be doing this or should be doing that as if we were unhappy with our lot. Some of us are, of course, and need to following up our words with some real action. For many of us, though, it’s just talk, and we are okay with the way we are and the life we lead...

Could it be because we feel guilty about being happy that we are so wary of admitting it?

Life could always be better, of course. We all have our share of problems. On the whole, though, is life really as bad as some of us seem to be always complaining?  Well, yes, in some cases. Maybe, though, if we complained less and were more positive about life generally, things might improve for all of us and there would be less to complain about? A more positive rather than negative take on each other’s socio-cultural-religious differences would be a good start.

In my experience, the great thing about letting ourselves feel happy is that we find ourselves being more positive about everything and everyone; if we can develop our interpersonal skills along the way and achieve a greater sense of personal as well as social identity, so much the better. Moreover, while it doesn’t necessarily take two to be happy, it helps…a LOT

So let's try and look out for each other more, yeah? We all need friends, someone to care about us, especially if we happen to be living on our own for whatever reason.

 ONE PLUS ONE MAKES THE-TWO-OF-US

Yesterday,

we talked about doing this ‘n’ that

while we played with the cat

as the budgie looked on and the dog

snored away in his basket

Yesterday,

we discussed going here or there

while you vacuumed the floor

as I loaded up the washing machine

before we went shopping

Tomorrow,

we’ll talk about doing this ‘n’ that,

clean out the budgie’s cage,

probably ask the neighbours round

to try out the new Bar-B-Q

Tomorrow,

we’ll discuss going here ‘n’ there,

then take the dog for a walk

where we’ll be welcome at the pub

and catch up on the gossip

Today,

will be very much like yesterday;

shades of self-consciousness

for having far less than some if more

than many…and being happy

As for our arguing points of view,

it’s how one plus one makes two

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

Ghost Writer

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

Someone asked me recently what I think of modern society. My answer is in the poem. 

I suspect many if not most of us are hypocrites up to a point; we often say one thing, but think and/or do the opposite. What bothers me most, though, is it feels like we are on a conveyor belt, hypocrites being moulded by our so-called betters who are no better than us at all, worse in fact, but untouchable for reasons best known to themselves for having contrived to be placed among society's 'betters'.  

Money talks, power talks, but nothing and no one talks louder than hypocrisy, the more so because it is is a silent, invisible enemy, and if we do succeed in exposing it, the chances are not only that the damage it is intended to inflict has already done its worst, but not even by whomsoever seems the likely author. We are left chasing shadows...

Such is life,I guess. All we can do is stay as alert to hypocrisy as possible, resist the temptation to give as good as we get, and encourage mind-body-spirit to keep looking on the bright side of life. 


GHOST WRITER

You’ll find me among shadows

insinuating nooks and crannies of a mind

co-writing fictions of the heart,

creating ‘No Go’ areas for such truths

as would make themselves known,

walk tall in sunlight, crusade with pride

against bigotry, shred it into pieces

and toss away, cocksure, no loose ends left

for tapers to mischief

I have no time for huts and hovels,

but churches, cathedrals, mosques, temples,

places where authority courts respect,

and if anyone suspect any double dealing

or duplicity, few will care to grasp

the nettle for fear its sting prove fatal

or, worse, provide propaganda

likely to earn a prime time slot on TV,

even win me converts

I always side with Law and Order,

ready to monitor and ratify any small print,

often left unread, I have to agree,

but who can blame me for a human foible

comprising aspects people prefer

to toss away, cocksure, no loose ends left

for tapers to mischief, never dreaming

their best intentions may well provide fuel

for its burning?

I prey on the goodwill of a gullible humanity,

feeding on its conscience, who am Hypocrisy

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

Note: First published in Tracking the Torchbearer by R N Taber, Assembly Books, 2012

Catcher in the Eye done Good

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

Years ago, I saw a painting in an art gallery that has made me reflect on the beauty of memory, capturing and preserving a precious moment in time. Yes, a photograph can do much the same, but a painting is so much more than a photograph; it reads aloud to the inner ear, thus inviting the inner eye to appreciate its every deliberate brush stroke in much the same sense and sensibility as one might appreciate iambic meter in a poem. As with all creative endeavour, the art lies in its artlessness, artist rewarding observer with an insight to a process that requires we tap into reserves of feeling of which the chances are we are not consciously aware.

Memory may fade, but the art-poem remains a part of us and will be sure to manifest itself in our approach to life, love, nature and human nature…; indeed, to  just about everything.

‘Oh,’ I hear some people say, ‘but that’s only if you have the imagination…’ Bollocks, to that! Imagination can and does work on our consciousness, yes, but it also works on the subconscious, possibly to even greater effect. So never let anyone lead you to believe you have no imagination; the human condition is better than that even where, sometimes, human nature fails us. 

Imagination is that Catcher in the Eye of which we may or may not be well aware but which, in any case, remains one of the sweeter mysteries of the human condition. 

CATCHER IN THE EYE DONE GOOD

Young girl with daisies
in the hair darts across a greeny field;
though brooding sheep
keep a sidelong watch on playful lambs,
the merry scene
attracts a frisky foal, prancing
at a boundary fence

Innocence

Young girl with daisies
in the hair glimpses a pretty butterfly,
gives laughing chase;
one tangent wing at a finger's tip,
angel face glowing
hope’s pink blushes, elusive happiness
caught on canvas

Copyright R. N. Taber 1974; 2001

[Note: An earlier version of this poem - under the title 'Brush Strokes' - first appears in Love and Human Remains: poems by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]

Homing in on a Brave New World

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

If learning is a rites of passage, the foundations of learning must lie with love or why do any of us make the journey in the first place…? 

Love is the greater of all human life forces, whoever and wherever we are in the world, regardless of any socio-cultural-religious and, yes, sexual persuasion, not least because it does not discriminate but takes us as it finds us, no holds barred.

It takes various shapes and forms, of course, love; places and aspects of the natural world will often feed us lovely memories, all the more so, though, if they include loved ones and/or close friends who share them also.

HOMING IN ON A BRAVE NEW WORLD

Once upon a time

in the sunshine, fickle world

spinning me round

till a mist closing in on me

where mistakes

and regrets come to haunt

as they always have, and I dare say

always will…

Oh, but hastily passing them by,

my world and I

The mist begins to clear,

and instead of taunts,

I can hear sweet birdsong

in summer air,

singing love songs, reciting poems

about kinder

as well as darker aspects

of humanity…

Oh, but hastily passing them by,

my world and I

Music, still tugging  

at heartstrings,

inspiring we nature lovers

everywhere

to let open mind and spirit take us

by the hand

as a child to its elders bound,

asking questions…

Oh, but hastily passing them by,

my world and I

Words, lightly hovering

on each ear

like birds in mid-flight before

journeying on

(and who knows why or where?);

sense and sensibility

converging from the start

on the human heart

Oh, but hastily passing them by,

my world and I

Love, invading the senses

like sunshine,

lighting up shadowy corners

of the self,

left inarticulate and ineffective

by inexperience,

ready to accept responsibility

for a new maturity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2015