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].

Name:
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.

Saturday, 3 September 2022

The Lie OR A Matter of Conscience

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

“To thine own self be true, and it must follow, as the night the day, thou canst not then be false to any man.” -  William Shakespeare

If you do not tell the truth about yourself, you cannot tell it about other people. – Virginia Woolf 

“Lying to ourselves is more deeply ingrained than lying to others.” Fyodor Dostoevsky

“The worst part about being lied to is knowing you weren’t worth the truth.” Jean-Paul Sartre

Now, I suspect most if not all of us tell lies sometimes, whether to ‘spare’ someone home truths or, more likely, to spare ourselves having to cope with theirs and our own at the same time. Whatever motivates the telling of them can be as deceitful, if not more so, than the lies themselves. 

Living with a lie can be a harsh, lonely environment; such was the closet imposed on me at the ripe old age of 14 years by family, church and a generally homophobic 1950’s before I finally came out as a gay man. There are other closets, of course, and other lies; if the cap fits…?

THE LIE or A MATTER OF CONSCIENCE

Whenever I may try
just to put something right,
you’ll argue with me
one long, dark night till dawn,
and just when I’m sure
I’ve won, a watery sun and birdsong
arrive to prove me wrong

It matters hardly at all
should you colour me white,
for soon forgot,
waiting to catch you out;
if no real harm done,
easy enough to simply shrug me away
if only to nag you another day

It’s who colours me black
or even subtler shades of grey
has the most to fear,
living on the edge of a pit
of snaky half truths
eager to begin, on any slip of the tongue,
a song no swan ever sung

Oh, but I so revel in leading people astray,
anywhere, any time of day... 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

[Note: This post-poem also appears on my gay-interest poetry blog today.] RT


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Wednesday, 27 October 2021

Cocktail

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

Another new poem today, prompted by a nasty wave of 'spiking; in UK nightclubs. I have to confess, though, that while I struggle to write poems these days, it helps to clear my thought processes which years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer has left damages, to say the least. Many thank, dear readers, for continuing to look in on my poem-posts.

Like most people, I am shocked and appalled by the current wave here in the UK of ‘spiking’ young women’s drinks in nightclubs or injecting them without their knowledge, thereby putting them at risk on what was intended to be a good, safe night out with friends. A well as being a criminal assault, it is also a betrayal of trust; every woman has the right to expect any nightclub to provide a secure environment. Clearly, security at the door needs to be tightened as well as any perpetrators who are caught given a sentence to match the severity of the crime. 

Sadly, the betrayal of trust happens all too often in life. While it is true - as with ‘spiking’ - that some perpetrators may be mentally ill and need help, all too often it is done with well thought out intent. Victims ,though, must never blame themselves .but find the strength of character to put the assault on their person behind them; easier said than done, but the ability of the human spirit to rise above, and thereby get the better of dark forces, should never be underestimated. 

It is perhaps worth bearing in mind that any betrayal is likely to haunt the perpetrator all their lives, especially in later years as, looking back on life (as we all do from time to time) it invariably sticks out like the proverbial sore thumb. 

“Betrayal is the only truth that sticks.” - Arthur Miller

COCKTAIL 

You will take your time
to know me, as is the human way
until your instincts
place me above and beyond
any random suspicion 

You will give me your heart,
close in on me as if we were meant
to be so from the start,
answer to everyday prayers,
killing off worst fears 

We’ll share mind-body-spirit,
no less a captive of the world’s pain,
for its being bearable
in so far as meeting it head-on,
together, not alone 

I am your comfort, your crutch;
though the world would break us up
into insignificant pieces,
we shall rise above, win through,
just for staying true. 

Yet, no one is entirely immune
to worldly temptations likely to fuel
even worthy ambitions,
feed us mixed emotions, a cocktail
of lively suspicions 

Needs must, as the world’s devils
seek to harry us, convince and drive
any random one of us
to break with principles and honesty,
betray our humanity 

So, what of commitments made
to each other, daring we look mentors
in the eye, one of us at least
having sold them down the river, lost
their goodwill forever? 

Second chances are rare enough
in a world where people are seen to be
as good as their word;
for whomsoever breaks faith with me
the sentence will be just 

Betray me, and you may well lose
everything and everyone you hold dear,
for I am called Trust,
nor think me some second-rate life force,
who am first among equals 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

 

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Tuesday, 29 January 2019

Walls, among 'live' Metaphors


We often hear talk of moral courage, and it is to be applauded, but standing up for what we believe in is not always the same as standing up for the rights of everyone in the same corner we are fighting. The recent shutdown of the U.S. Government over funding for a wall across the border with Mexico, the continuing impasse at Stormont in Northern Ireland and the Brexit fiasco in the British Parliament are but a few examples of how our so-called ‘betters’ should not lead by example.

Meanwhile ...

Parents in West Yorkshire, UK, came up against another such wall only recently.  Kirklees Council debated the supply of non-stun halal meat to 43 schools. in West Yorkshire; this, after receiving a petition of almost 8,000 parents expressing concern over animal welfare. Various councillors - including  Green Party members who voted with Labour colleagues - sided with the pro-cruelty lobby on the grounds that it supports diversity. Perhaps they can explain what diversity has to do with either animal welfare ... or freedom of choice, such as so far denied the schoolchildren concerned?

In most if not all cases of intransigence across the  whole spectrum of issues plaguing various societies worldwide, where there's a will there is invariably a way; it is called compromise. Sadly, where compromise means having to agree to differ and act for the better of all rather than some (or self) this puts 'will' in a position too many of our so-called 'betters' are unwilling to accept.

This poem is a villanelle.

WALLS, AMONG 'LIVE' METAPHORS

At a wall dripping blood and tears
find world democracies' sins well-met,
live metaphor for the world’s fears

Where true democracy disappears,
political ambition refuting its social debt
at a wall dripping blood and tears

Wherever love-and-peace, it veers
away, find agents conspiring to thwart;
live metaphor for the world fears

Divisions perpetuated for years
driven further apart since last ill-met
at a wall dripping blood and tears

Where time’s kinder mist clears,
discern guards with orders to shoot on sight;
live metaphor for the world’s fears

It's Freedom’s fair head that rears,
to debate any socio-cultural-religious tenet
at a wall dripping blood and tears,
live metaphor for the world’s fears

Copyright R N Taber 2019

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Monday, 3 August 2015

Innocent, Until Proven Human (As Defined by Rites of Conscience)

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

I once saw a foal and a child born at different times of the same day. One had no conscience and would remain a picture of innocence until its slaughter for human convenience; the other would soon become wise to the ways of the world and learn to manipulate them … one way or another.

INNOCENT, UNTIL PROVEN HUMAN (AS DEFINED BY RITES OF CONSCIENCE)

Every birth, a celebration,
history redeeming
the very nature of creation

At break of day, an ovation
for each living thing;
every birth, a celebration

From its time of hibernation,
a glorious spring;
the very nature of creation

At the heart of every season,
find love enduring;
every birth, a celebration

If history pauses for no one,
find in its evolving,
the very nature of creation

Seeds of a world’s salvation
here for the nurturing;
at every birth, celebration,
the very nature of creation

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009; 2015

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Monday, 5 November 2012

Fallen Heroes

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

[Update (July 24 2016): A report recently published by the McLaren investigation offers damning evidence of State sponsored doping among Russian athletes. However, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) has ruled today that the entire Russian team should not be banned from the Olympic Games in Rio de Janeiro; any decision should be taken by individual Sports Federations. World opinion is divided as to whether or not this was a good decision. Is the IOC simply passing the buck? Whatever, one cannot help but have huge sympathy for the many ‘clean’ members of the Russian team who will have trained hard over the past four years; they may well win events, but given the extensive publicity given to the report worldwide, there will be those who will wonder if that success is only down due to four years of hard training or…. No one doubts that Russia is not the only nation whose sports authorities - even at Government level - are inclined to encourage or turn a blind eye to certain athletes doping to win events on the world stage. It is SO unfair on those who would never take performance enhancing drugs. Sadly, though, that is the kind of world we live in; it is always the innocent who suffer, one way or another, while the guilty all too often appear to get away with ...whatever.]RT

Now, every generation has its share of fallen heroes; they come in all shapes and both sexes. It is invariably a very human tragedy for everyone, not least those directly concerned.

Only recently, a definitive report has upheld allegations that seven times Tour de France winner Lance Armstrong took performance enhancing drugs.

Here in the UK, admirers of the late Sir Jimmy Savile, a popular DJ with millions and much admired for his charity work, are having to deal with the appalling fact that his jovial mask appears to have concealed a serial paedophile; it is all the more horrific that allegations by his victims span several decades. The BBC and other organisations closely associated with Savile clearly have many questions to answer.

This poem is a villanelle.

FALLEN HEROES

Among those we place on pedestals
(custom made saints and heroes)
too few proven worthy role models

Children, especially, create portals
where the willing acolyte goes
among those we place on pedestals

Among adults, too, where little rivals
a need to rise above their fellows,
too few proven worthy role models

No fine aspiration immune to perils
(the heart vulnerable to blows)
among those we place on pedestals

Though we mortals create new idols
(where a media halo glows)
too few proven worthy role models

Sad to say, but true, when a hero falls,
hindsight quickly follows;
among those we place on pedestals,
too few proven worthy role models

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

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