Hello, folks, from London UK

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

“Art hurts. Art urges voyages – and it is easier to stay at home.” ~Gwendolyn Brooks

“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” - Leonardo da Vinci

“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.” - Robert Frost 

“How do poems grow? They grow out of your life. “– Robert Penn Warren

Hello, Everyone, from London UK,

Reader G H has emailed to ask if the personal pronoun ‘I’ in my poems is yours truly. Well, the answer is both yes and no.  The ‘I’ is multiple voices, including mine.

Over the years, I have met many inspiring people, had inspirational tales related to me by probably as many strangers I’ve met in passing as family and friends.  Much of what I have learned, I try to pass on to readers, hence a multi-vocal ‘I’.I daresay much the same can be said for the authors of all art forms.

Feedback suggests that readers are happy with this, and can see how it fits in with the multidimensional nature of what I am trying to say in many poems.  Hopefully, I succeed more often than I fail; in either case, it often depends as much upon whether or not the reader can relate to a poem at the time as the poet’s ability to draw the reader into a poem and let him or her work through and arrive at their own take on it. Needless to say, how they finally relate to it, if at all, the poet will probably never know…

The natural world  is a constant inspiration to us all, of course, especially to the gardener who has a special relationship with nature I have always admired, even envied. More than one gardener has told me how they so look forward to spring, seeing leaves return to the trees and listening to what they have to say as they rustle in a breeze or survive a storm. Oh, yes, there is a poet in everyone...

Do feel free to email me – rogertab@aol.com - any time. I try to reply or at least acknowledge as many as possible, but only read those with ‘POETRY’ in the subject field. Sometimes, I am feeling unwell  and manage to hit a wrong key, whereupon emails disappear, so apologies to anyone expecting a reply, but has not received one. 

As regular readers well know, years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer has played merry hell with my thought processes and general memory, so I am not as comfortable with new technology as I once was, not to mention that I can't always see the letters on a my p c keyboard too well these days either. 😉

Can you wonder that I sometimes struggle to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life?😉 Ah, but the struggle always brings its own reward...😁

Take care, folks, keep safe and stay positive,

Many thanks for dropping by and I hope to be back with a new poem soon,

Hugs,

Roger 

“

 

Highs and Lows

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

"Time changes everything except something within us which is always surprised by change."  - Thomas Hardy 

" Life is your see-saw. You may not stay balanced long, but you can aim for a high after every low. Sanita Belgrave

"What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it's curved like a road through mountains." - Tennessee Williams

“Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks”. - Plutarch“

Now, most, if not all of us, get to experience the highs and lows of life as we progress; anyone, at any age, from any walk of life. At the time, the lows may well seem insurmountable, but trust the human spirit to see us through, and see us through, it invariably well, all the kinder and quicker with the love of and help from those who care about us. Whatever, like it or not, life is a learning process; we can learn and progress or be in denial and risk being unable to move on…

Common sense, do I hear you say; nothing new, heard it all before…? Almost certainly, yes, and definitely from yours truly. Even so, knowing something and acting on it are two sides of the same coin, as we all know only too well. To be sure, we may flip the coin and it gives the wrong message. Ah, but if, even just a part of us recognizes that it is not answer to our problem, we need to trust heart-and-soul to message mind-body-spirit to…flip the darn coin again, and again… until it comes up with what it senses is the right message. Thereafter, we can feel confident about confronting our problem/s and working them through to a kinder end than when we first flipped the coin… and be reassured that, if things take a turn for the worse at any stage, we can always blame it on that old standby ‘fate’… wry bardic chuckle

Many a time have I tossed that coin and, many a time, blamed ‘fate’ for not helping me bring whatever mess I happen to be in to a hastier, more ‘successful’ conclusion. But… success, of course, is relative and getting out of whatever mess we may have fallen into - invariably down to ourselves, however inadvertently, from start to finish - well, that’s a successful outcome, and don’t let anyone tell you any differently who may have judged you for getting into a mess in the first place.😉

Creative therapy, in any shape or form, is a sure way to help us sort our thoughts, give us a new, more positive perspective on life. How can I be sure? Why else do you think I have turned to writing – especially poetry – since schooldays…?  I may not be famous, in any ‘celebrity’ sense, but, believe you me, having reached my late 70’s is a personal success story. We all have them, it’s as my mother once told schoolboy Roger, on my failing an important exam: “That’s what life is all about, dear, picking yourself up and starting all over again.” 

 I didn’t ‘get it’ then, and was sceptical, to say the least, but I certainly ‘get it’ now! wry bardic grin

HIGHS AND LOWS

It’s our early years
that help shape the rest of our lives
taking on perceptions
of family and friends, wondering where
and why a rainbow ends,
open to such fairy tale explanations
as will lay the foundations
of a worldly rhetoric appearing to offer answers
that leave us asking more questions

In our middle years,
we stand at a crossroads in our lives
taking decisions,
learning about their consequences, taking
responsibility for them
(or not, as the case may be) mixed feelings
throwing us into a confusion
we can shrug off, prepare to bluff our way through
or put mind-body-spirit under review

In our later years,
we may look back with anger, regret, 
even degrees of shame
for paths unwisely taken, mistakes 
haunting mind-body-spirit,
yet comfort, too, for heart-and-soul’s capacity
for learning from them all,
nurturing personal space, the wiser and more mature
for the nature of its past-present-future

For better or worse, in brush strokes on a live canvas,
find home truths that are the be-alls and end-alls of us 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022 

Hello, from London UK

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

Hi folks, 

Sorry, no poem today, but, yes, there is one in the making that I hope to publish here this week. Meanwhile, I hope you will dip into the archives and explore some of the poems there.

Reader, J J has emailed to ask in what part of London I live. Well, I live in Kentish Town, part of the  London Borough of Camden. I moved here in 1985. I have lived in various parts of London since the mid-1960's. Having been born in Kent, though, and lived there until I was 20 years old, I will always think of myself as a Man of Kent, having been born on the eastern side of the river Medway.

Another reader asks if I am planning another collection of poems. Well, yes, I hope to find a publisher who will include some of my gay-interest poems among my general pieces. Although my collections proved popular with users of various public libraries to which I donated self-published copies, I have yet to find a UK publisher. I am about to try again, so am doing my best to think follow my own advice and positively.😉

Blogspot.com stats for both my poetry blogs are very encouraging, so I may well have given up too soon in the past, although various health issues tend to get in the way of positive-thinking from time to time. I am tempted to try and find a UK publisher for my fantasy novel, Mamelon (posted in full on my fiction blog.) Infuriatingly, just  trying to keep the flat clean and tidy as well as write poems for the blog tires me out easily these days; one of the many pitfalls of growing old, I guess. 😉

Whatever, I did not expect the blogs to find as many regular readers as they appear to have, so it's a big boost to morale and many thanks to you all. 

Many people, from all walks of life - whether living alone, with a partner or families with children - have found the going really tough during the pandemic, and rising inflation only makes matters worse. I only hope at least some of my poems have helped readers to rise above the stresses and strains imposed by Covid-19 and its variants, among other darker aspects of life. To this end, I try to inject more than a little optimism into my poems which, at the same time, helps me to rise above any sense of crisis affecting me as well; in this way, the poem becomes a joint venture poet and reader, in much the same way as all art forms endeavour to  resonate with the inner eye of  a potential audience. 

Having just returned from an appointment with my local dentist, I feel prompted to share with you how I am always making new discoveries for having been advised to change to as sugar-free a diet as possible when first diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2012; apart from managing my weight better, I still have most of my own teeth...😉 Just as well, as I dread having to cope with false teeth, coward that I am...😉

Now, here's to our sustaining a positive-thinking mindset, in spite of the negatives life is inclined to throw at us from time to time! Rarely easy, but...Hobson's Choice if we want to keep a grip on life, take each day as it comes with a hopeful rather than despairing heart and thereby encourage one another to do likewise..

Many thanks for dropping by, back again soon,

Hugs,

Roger

Hi, folks, from London UK

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

Hi, folks, from London UK

Sorry, everyone, no poem today. Yes, I am working on one, though, and hope to post it here soon.

Meanwhile, several readers have emailed me to comment on yesterday’s poem, given that I don’t often depart from my passion for internal and/ or external rhyme. For some years now, I have contributed to a US poetry magazine, CC&D, published by Scars Publications whose editor only accepts blank verse or poems where external rhyme is absent. 

Scars have released a collection book of the January-April 2022 issues which includes my poem ‘Classroom Politics’; the book is called ‘Unfinished Business’ and can be ordered from Amazon; to submit a poem and/ or ask for further details regarding other Scars publications on sale and to access to the works of various contributors, including yours truly, contact: ccandd96@scars.tv for various links.

Another reader, PW, asks how I am coping with my prostate cancer, especially in the light of how years of hormone therapy have messed with my memory and thought processes generally; his mother has recently been diagnosed with dementia. For me, as well as writing up the poetry blogs, Wordsearch books have proven a godsend; they are fun, relaxing and challenge the thought processes all at the same time, much as crosswords do (at which I have never been any good.😉) Wordsearch books are available from The Works stores around the UK and/or can be ordered online.  For more details about these books and other items such as jigsaws etc: https://www.theworks.co.uk 

PW also asks how I "cope generally" with growing old and living alone. Readers often ask this and there are no easy answers. Yes, I get lonely sometimes and family, friends and neighbours friends can be a blessing, of course, but, generally speaking, I guess it’s a case of providing mind-body-spirit with the willpower to deal as best we can with the many and various obstacles that can present themselves to any of us anywhere, at any time; more so, possibly, as we grow old, physically and/ or mentally  less able to run such gauntlets.😉 At the end of the day, though, I suspect it’s all down to that old rogue, Hobson’s, choice…(wry bardic chuckle)

Positive thinking is the key to life, in whatever field we endeavour to excel or at least make our presence felt. For me, it has been the key to surviving health and psychological issues that have plagued me for much of my life; even though it hasn't opened many of the doors I hoped it would, I am still here to tell the tale, so I just focus on the positives in my life - past and present - and try, as far as humanly possible, to avoid the kind of pitfalls attached to any negatives...😉

Now, without digressing entirely, PW also asks if my poetry collections are still in print. Some UK public libraries may have copies in a Reserve Stock collection. Unable to find a publisher in the UK, not least because I insisted on including a selection of gay-interest poems, I only self-published a limited number of volumes of each title. (I probably gave up trying to find a publisher too soon, but health problems took the wind out of my sails.) An American publisher agreed to publish one volume, but messed me about to such an extent that I finally withdrew from a potential contract by mutual consent. I continued to contribute to various UK poetry magazines for some years, but latterly have only published to my blogs. Maybe one day…

That’s it for today, folks. Do browse the archives attached to any of my poetry  blogs, sometime, where you will find an assortment of earlier posts-poems. In the meantime, I will endeavour yet again to stir willpower and thought processes to work on a new poem. As I have said before, I don't expect everyone to like every poem I write. Hopefully, though, everyone will find poems they can relate to and/ or enjoy.

Many thanks for dropping by, 

Take care, stay safe, and keep well,

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: PW also suggests I upload the novels on my fiction blog to Google Books, as well as promoting them, along along with my poetry blogs, on social media. I will certainly give  Google Books some thought as  Blasphemy is already there; Sacrilege  was intended as Book Two of a trilogy, but the American publisher who had showed an interest in publishing the trilogy, lost interest when Blasphemy failed to give him the kind of access to the UK market that he'd hoped for. Subsequently, I lost interest in writing Book Three (Redemption) as I was quite ill at the time anyway. A younger version of yours truly would almost certainly have pressed on, but growing old has a nasty habit of undermining self-confidence. 😉]

Partners in Time

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

The relationship between any writer and what he or she writes is, in many ways, much like an enduring friendship.  While it isn't always easy easy to find the words to express our feelings with even a loved one or close friend, they will often draw on their knowledge of us to understand what we are trying to say. Such, too, is the relationship between a poet and mind-body-spirit, the latter sensing instinctively what we need to say and encouraging us to find the right words.

Any relationship will, of course, have its ups and downs...but any sound relationship, whether human or  otherwise can, if nurtured, evolve a s a lasting partnership, enough give and take on both sides to reach out to others. Whether a novelist, poet, painter or potter...whatever...those 'others' are such as yourselves, dear readers, in the hope that the poems that appear here on the blog will reach out to you as mind-body-spirit has reached out to me.

Any art form can be as positive a therapy for its creator as for anyone who finds themselves entering into and identifying with it by way of appreciation. In this way, the partnership embraces a third party and achieves - even if only partly - its positive purpose. 

Yes, well, win some, lose some...😉

PARTNERS IN TIME

Sometimes I seem to do
the dirty on you, just when you need
to reach out to me
and you have no idea why I should
behave this way, leaving you
feeling so confused, even afraid we might
be growing apart,
a prospect so scary, it’s sending an S.O.S.
to mind body-spirit

Time passes, people change
not always easy to reason why, accept
and ask ourselves how
we can best look forward with hope
not despair, no moping about
and blaming fate for abandoning us
to the passage of time,
leaving us feeling it’s already too late, even
for mind-body-spirit

Ah, but appearances can deceive,
our relationship seems to be changing,
and change it will,
doesn’t mean I am either giving up
on you or vice versa,
we are as integral to any living landscape
as are sea and sand, earth and sky, bird and nest
to mind-body-sprits

Life may well change how we look and feel,
but the 'ME' in TI-M-E embraces us all

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

 

Hello again from London UK (Problem solved)

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

Hello again, folks,

Referring back to yesterday's post, a reader J T has emailed to say he has had a similar problem and asks if mine was resolved in the end. I am pleased to say that, yes, it appears to have been resolved, but I guess the proof of the pudding will be in the eating if we manage to access the exhibition in April. The booking firm eventually sent me QR codes. I have not been able to print them out, but the booking firm assures me that I only need to present the email and we will be allowed access. To be on the safe side, I will also make sure I take ID with me. So,... fingers crossed for a Happy Ending after all.😉

A friend who is a lot younger than me and knows his way around modern technology far better, says he had a similar problem because the appropriate app he needed to load to access the tickets didn't work.  In the end, he did not get to the exhibition because, like me, he was not familiar with QR codes and did not think to ask for them to be emailed to him. 

Younger or older, few if any of us can afford to waste money, especially with the cost of living rising just about everywhere and energy prices soaring.

I have written to Age UK to relate my Tale of Stress as a warning to others. A young friend expressed wide-eyed amazement that I did not know about electronic tickets, but I am clearly not the only one. Mind you, I do get easily confused these days. Even so, there would appear to be a lack  of information doing the rounds on the subject... so I refuse to take the blame for my ignorance just because I am growing old and inclined to lose the proverbial plot easily. 😉

It has been such a stressful weekend that I am now going to take my leave of you all, rest up for a bit and then get on with my next poem, 'Empathy with a Camel'. Working on a poem invariably helps improve my mood, gives depressive thoughts  the old heave-ho and puts me back on an even(ish) keel for feeling my way across the sifting, shifting sands of time.  As I have said before on other poem-posts, never underestimate the power of creative therapy, whether it be writing, music, art, gardening, handicrafts, knitting, dress-making... or simply going for a walk and communing with nature...whatever we love doing most.. If the cap fits, wear it. 😉

Take care, keep well, stay safe and keep trying to look on the bright(er) side of life whoever, wherever you are in the world, and whatever your circumstances. It's never easy, I know, but we cannot let the vagaries of life get us down to the point when we start to feel broken. If those responsible for such vagaries want a fight, let's give it to 'em yeah?  Some organizations need to earn that to underestimate the human spirit is asking for trouble...😉

Love 'n' hugs all round,

Roger

Hello again from London UK

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

Reader A J asks if he or she can put the URL for my blogs on social media “since you seem to disapprove of social media and avoid it yourself...”

I don’t entirely disapprove of social media; it has its merits, but having tried it once, I have no wish to return to it. However, should any readers feel they want to share the blog URL, they are welcome to do so; all three blogs - general poetry/ gay-interest poetry and fiction + archives can be accessed from:

https://rogertab.blogspot.com

Anyone recommending the link may well wish to add that I do not publish comments, complimentary or otherwise. Neither do I reply to emails now - except from friends and regular blog readers - as various  health issues include poor eyesight.

Any LGBT poetry lovers may well be especially interested in that blog’s archives as I rarely add gay-specific poems these days, mostly due to lack of inspiration; years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer have left me sexually inactive and less able to relate to and enter into the spirit of the poem.

In spite of health issues, I am hoping to self-publish limited (print) editions of new collections which, as previously, will include a gay section as well as some poems of interest to LGBT readers in other sections; with any luck, these will also be available on-line at a later date. However, prostate cancer has a mind of its own so there will come a time - hopefully sooner rather than later - when there will be no more tomorrows for yours truly. Whatever, c’est la vie, so better to make the most of what we have while we have it, each in our own way...?

Years of hormone therapy may have played merry hell with my thought processes, but writing poetry helps keep them in some sort of order, so I will continue to add to the poetry blogs as long as I can.

Another reader asks if I intend to add to my fiction blog. Sadly, it is very unlikely as I couldn’t even interest any in my fantasy novel, Mamelon and don’t have the energy these days, let alone inspiration. Even so, I enjoyed my foray into fiction, so no regrets.

Meanwhile, I take each day as it comes, treat it as a bonus and do my best to nurture a positive-thinking mindset. 

I am working on a new poem, and hope to publish it on the blog soon. Sadly, poems take me a lot longer to write these days, but I enjoy making the effort; as I have said many times on the blog, it is a form of creative therapy I can throw myself into and temporarily forget health concerns, pandemic implications and other worries. As my mother used to say, “If you worry, you’ll die and if you don’t worry, you’ll still die, so...why worry?” 😉

Take care everyone, and try to stay positive, whatever life throws at you; time may not heal altogether, but - partnered with good sense and sensibility - it can do a pretty good job, if we let it...

Bye for now,

Hugs,

Roger

Poetry as Creative Therapy

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

Readers have been asking why I post poems only to revise them at a later date. Would it not be better to wait until I am fully satisfied with the finished piece before going ahead and sharing it? Well, yes, it would, but I am satisfied with it at the time and want to share it; if I have any reservations, I will delay, but even then, it can be good to share what may only transpire to be the genesis of a poem; I may well make changes to its wording and structure later, but any revisions always try to retain the spirit of the original poem.

While I do my best to interest readers with my poems, I have made no secret of the fact that the blogs are also an important form of creative therapy for me as well. I suspect my recovery from a nervous breakdown many years ago has never (quite) been as complete as I like to think. Moreover, any hangovers from that terrible time may well have been reawakened by my prostate cancer being treated with hormone therapy (Zoladex) since its being first diagnosed in 2012. I'm not complaining, just being pragmatic; I cannot ignore the effect (and influence) health concerns have had on my poetry, so they are relevant to answering the question.

In the early days of hormone therapy, I expressed concern to my consultant that it was making me feel frightened a lot of the time, and was also affecting my thought processes, especially my memory. I was assured these were side-effects of the treatment. Over subsequent years, I have learned to deal with them, but if I though I was winning the battle, I could not have been more wrong.

The sense of creeping fear leaves me from time to time, often for very prolonged periods, although it has returned with a vengeance since the coronavirus pandemic struck. However, memory loss and disorganised thought processes have dogged me from the start. Not helpful for a wannabe poet, I hear you say, and you would be right. I have struggled with writing poems (and fiction) for some years now, probably before I even started the blog, but hadn’t got the measure of my shortcomings.

I gave up on the fiction as no publishers were interested. Even so, working with words has been a lifesaver. Without the blogs, I suspect I would have given up on myself in the early days of my prostate cancer. Some days are a nightmare, not least because I forget the meaning of words with which I have been familiar most of my life and need to keep looking them up to make sure I am using them correctly. At the same time, organizing my thoughts into poem mode can take days, and that’s before I have to start wrestling with words and meaning. Completing both processes encourages me to continue, not only writing poetry but also getting ready to face another day.

My life was so different before either the prostate cancer or a bad fall in about 2012 when I fractured my left ankle and have had a mobility problem ever since, especially now I am in my mid-seventies. I used to enjoy walking for hours in the countryside and parks, long cliff walks by the sea, wherever the whim and might take me. Similarly, I used to love exploring art galleries and museums etc. and I miss all that because you can be sure that either prostate cancer or Foot will have other ideas... 😉

I am not making excuses for my poetry not always being up to the mark, simply telling it how it is and attempting to answer the question as to why I post poems only to revise them at a later date. I have always enjoyed writing poetry, nor just by way of creative therapy either. My first published poem appeared in my secondary school magazine when I was still only 11 years-old. I’ve never thought of myself as an especially good poet, but hope what some of my poems have to say will continue to resonate with some readers even after the Grim Reaper comes calling.

Readers often ask why I have an entry on Wikipedia. I didn’t know myself for a long time, but it appears it is because I also write gay-interest poetry, and there is little enough of it about. Gay poets, like gay novelists, have good reason to want to try and correct the many misperceptions many people have about gay people, the fake news and misleading stereotypes that haunt some of us all our lives.

Rightly or wrongly, I grew up in a family that gave a very vulnerable fourteen years-old Roger the impression they had as low an opinion of same sex relationships as many if not most people in those days. Consequently, I remained in the proverbial closet until my early thirties; even then, it would take a nervous breakdown - that had been simmering away in me like an awakening volcano - to eventually set me on a course that would not only restore a flagging self-confidence, but also result in my emerging from the closet, ready at last to start looking the world in the eye as a gay man. Oh, I made lots of mistakes along the way, and regret them all, especially where I may well inadvertently have hurt other people’s feelings.

Enough of all that, hope you won’t think I have strayed too far from the point I was originally trying to, make; few points worth making can be made in a few words.

Take care, folks, and keep well,

HUGS,

Roger 

PS In spite or (or because of) everything I’ve said, I do follow my own advice. I wake up each morning feeling physically sick for having to get through another day... BUT... by the time I have given myself a pep talk, got dressed and had some breakfast...YES, the positive mindset is already ticking over nicely, and invariable sees me through until bed-time... if only just, sometimes. 😁

 

Hi Folks, from London UK (2)

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

Hi Folks,

Sorry, no poem today. I am not ill, but so much to do and only myself to do it, also running out of ideas or poems, not to mention struggling to motivate myself. Even so, I am working on a new start-the-week poem and will post it here on Monday.  For awhile, I will only be posting poems on Mondays, but will be in touch from time to time just to say "Hi" and let you know what I am thinking, doing and postponing...😉

For the record, I don't have Covid-19, just fighting depression and get very tired these days. I recently heard that an old friend and ex-colleague has died. Upsetting, of course, but at least she is at peace now and will live on in the happier memories of those who knew her; as regular readers know, I am a great believer in the inspiring nature of a posthumous consciousness. In our thoughts, we should celebrate a person's life rather than dwell on their death... surely? It not only alleviates our own sense of loss, but continues to give their lives meaning. My late mother used to say, "Everything we do and say affects someone somewhere, all the more reason, surely, to think about what we say and do before we say and do it?" A wise owl, my mum...😉

I can't wait to get a haircut next week as we in England enter the next phase of  relaxing safety restrictions. Hopefully, we can look forward to  a Covid-free summer as it would appear that the coronavirus is far less able to thrive (if at all?) in warmer weather. As for whether or not it will return in the autumn, we'll just have to wait and see...and keep our fingers crossed that the vaccinations will keep us safe.  My second vaccination will have kicked in by tomorrow, but I, for one, will definitely have a booster if available in the autumn. I genuinely believe that the advantages outweigh any risk of serious side-effects; nothing ventured, nothing gained...right?

In the meantime, I press on with preparing a new print and e-collection in between doing the shopping and keeping an eagle eye on the housework. It will be great to meet up with old friends again soon, but I can't help wondering what we will chat about given the restrictions on travel and so many interesting venues being closed during lockdown... 😀 Oh, well, we can always enjoy a good whinge...😉 Whatever, it will be so GOOD to see each other. 

I try to get out and about as much as a can, and even hospital appointments are a welcome change from these four walls.😀 Besides, my bad foot needs some exercise or it's inclined to give up on me altogether and I then have to work at cajoling it back into action. Apart from that, of course, I need to lose the pounds I've piled on with comfort food during the pandemic...

A reader asks if I think we can expect a return to 'normal' life any time soon. Well, I fear not, but we must continue to nurture a positive thinking mindset and keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. The alternative is depression, and that can be harder to escape from than any lockdown; I have taken an anti-depressant nightly for some years now; it helps a LOT, but the onus remains on me to try and stay on top of things. On the whole, I manage pretty well, but for anyone prone to depression, it ain't never gonna be easy.

Anyway, enough of me rambling on. Time to bid you all a cheery goodbye for now, many thanks for tuning in, and I'll be back soon.

Take care, everyone, and do take any Covid safety precautions seriously; the coronavirus it is no global conspiracy (whatever the fantasists and mischief makers on social media may say)  but a real threat no less, and we (all)  need to act responsibly for the sake of others as well as ourselves

Bye for now,

Hugs,

Roger

PS During my absences from the blog, I hope some of you will enjoy browsing the archives.

Back to the Future

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

Like many if not most people, I’ve had my share of ups and downs in life, but none more devastating than a mental breakdown some 40+ years ago. I lost all self-confidence, saw no future for myself that I could even hope for or dream about. I felt like an empty shell adrift on a lonely sea. 

In the past, I had always managed to rise above if not actually solve my problems, but this time, I felt utterly defeated, trapped by a mindset that remained stubbornly resistant even to

hope. One night, I dreamed of going back to my childhood. Oh, it had been no fairy tale, but nor had it been a nightmare. 

Over several nights, I dreamed about places and people that had made me happy. By day, I’d wish I could go back, and get all the more depressed for knowing there could be no going back. Then I got to wondering… why not? 

During the weeks that followed, I visited places I had loved, even looked up several people I remembered from those days. Nor was it in the least depressing; on the contrary it reminded me how the mind-body-spirit can take a person’s side and help that person to move forward if he or she but cares to listen. I visited places where I grew up, even my old school where I’d been very unhappy, took the train to Brighton where I first met the love of my life who would be killed in a road accident less than a year later…Happy times, sad times, awful times, such times as comprise that tapestry of life unique to each and every one of us. 

Going back was no instant cure for the mental state I was in, but it made me realise that I had in me no less an innate capacity for life and love than anyone else; all I had to do was tap into it. Easier said than done of course, but I made the effort, started writing again, and also joined a local unemployment group; the first step proved to be as positive a creative therapy as it had been in the past while the latter helped me re-learn the art of communicating with other people and sharing ideas, thoughts and feelings. 

Nearly four years later, I started a new job with the help of an organization I discovered once I’d eventually rediscovered the confidence to put such information skills as I had to good use again. It was a long haul; even longer, its shadow that will hang over me always, if only to remind me that, just as our Here-and Now is what we make it, so its roots are in our past and whatever the future may hold is also down to us, quirks of so-called ‘fate’ notwithstanding.

BACK TO THE FUTURE 

Sometimes we need
to go back, the better to move forward,
recover lost inspiration,
motivate ourselves to take a positive view
of life, lost somewhere
along the way among hard times, blind
to woods for their trees,
deaf to well-meant advice for self-pity and fear
overwhelming the senses 

Back, as far as we can…
to recover a feeling for such kinder times
as when we’d run
with loved ones and friends, since shut out
by an unquiet mind,
no sense of belonging, thought processes
all but gone awry,
mind, body and spirit no longer in sync enough
to determine how or why 

A distant cry in the ears,
alerting us to kinder years, inviting us back
to experience once more
whatever it was that once inspired us so then,
but fails us now,
urged us to take our cue from such dreams
as offered a new reality,
no thought then of failure, only of an endeavour
well worth the journey 

Oh, and such a journey...
to other worlds now colluding, now colliding
with ours, the thrills
of taking up, breaking up, and making up again
with all manner of species
among humankind offering love, power, glory
or whatever it might be
we aspire to, by whatever means it takes to twist
and turn the right key 

Looking back, rediscovering
whatever it was in us that kept us moving on
through thick, and thin.
all but forgotten because it never had a name
(not everything does)
but would have me reconcile with and learn
to best nurture
this singular mind-body-spirit comprising all of me
that’s past-present-future 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

Hi folks, from London UK

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

Hi Folks,

No poem again today. Sorry about that, but I seem to be running out of bardic steam.😁 I am working on a new poem, though and will post it here on Monday.

I do hope many of you will be able to enjoy the Easter weekend, whatever the weather. There is much to enjoy, even though the coronavirus  remains a threat. Spring is in the air here in the UK, there is blossom on the trees, flowers in gardens and parks to brighten our days as well as a vaccination program that promises a new lease of life. Hopefully, that promise will be well and truly fulfilled so long as everyone remains vigilant. It is very upsetting to see crowds of people flocking to parks and beaches with no thought for social distancing. The world has a long way to go yet before it is Covid-safe. Caution has to be the keyword. (On this, at least, I have to agree with Boris 😉)

A reader asks how I feel about vaccination passports, given the objections so many people, especially politicians, are raising. Personally, I think they are a good idea; they could not only show that people have been vaccinated, but also indicate any booster jabs, given that we are likely to need the latter as time goes by. Anything to help people feel a lot safer about entering a busy pub, restaurant, entertainment venue or wherever has to be a good thing... well, doesn't it? 

Everyone is entitled to their point of view, of course, but I am sick of hearing certain people whinging on about safety precautions being an infringement of human rights. It is common sense, surely? Mind you, no one can feel safe all the while there are those among us who object to wearing a mask even simply as a matter of so-called 'principle'.

Enough of my ramblings, and it's back to the poem for yours truly; it refers back to a time when I was having a nervous breakdown  many years ago and had completely lost my way in life. Reflecting on that time has helped me get through the pandemic. Then, as now, poetry was the form of creative therapy to which I owe my survival. The poem will attempt to indicate how I eventually managed to get myself back on track; not surprisingly, its working title is Back to the Future, one which I will probably keep.

Take care everyone and try to stay positive, if only because the alternative is unthinkable,

Back on Monday,

Hugs,

Roger

A New Open Letter to Readers

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

A reader has complained about my poem, L-I-F-E, the many Faces of Love that I posted here here recently, suggesting that a gay themed poem has no place on a general poetry blog. Well, I make no apologies for it. 

A poem is a poem is a poem, whatever its content, just as a person is a person is a person, whatever their religious, political or sexual persuasion. Most of my LGBT-interest poems appear on my gay poetry blog, but now and then I wear my social-interest hat and post on both blogs, no offence to anyone intended. I am, after all, a gay man. (At 75 years-old, though, probably best described as asexual now.) 😉

Other readers have said they enjoyed the same poem, but ask why I revised both title and final couplet more than once. Well, what can I say. Apologies if I confused anyone. Titles are so important, being the reader's way into a poem. I was fairly pleased enough with the poem to post it here, but not quite; it took a couple of days to get the title right, and also come up with a closing couplet that I felt the poem deserved.

Yet another reader asks when I plan to publish another collection of poems. I have almost completed a collection that I hope to self-publish fairly soon and also submit to Google Books. Like many people who live on their own, and dealing with various health issues on a daily basis, I've found the Covid-19 emergency often leaves me feeling exhausted. Writing poems and publishing them to the blog is very therapeutic, but also very time-consuming, so the publication of my next collection -Addressing the Art of Being Human - is on hold for now. 

Why do I self-publish? Well no UK poetry publishers or literary agents that I've approached have shown any interest, not least because I include some gay-interest poems.. There is a gay section in all four of my previous collections; even so, they seem to issue well in various UK public libraries that stock copies.

I hope to give a poetry reading, probably in London, once my next collection is available. Sadly, the British Library no longer have a copy of my poetry reading on the 4th Plinth in Trafalgar Square as my contribution to sculptor Antony Gormley's One and Other project in 2009, although they hope to restore the whole project at a later date. Meanwhile, you can hear me read poems on You Tube although I have not added a clip for a long time:

 https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSdhLgPQOsng2Xz8n5m0ViQ

Last, but not least, I would like to welcome any new readers and suggest they may like to explore the archives relating to any of my three blogs - general poetry, gay-interest poetry, fiction - accessible links on the right hand side of any blog page; access to my other blogs at the top left hand corner of any blog page.

Many thanks for visiting the blog and I hope you will find something to enjoy; a big thank you, too, to those readers who take the trouble to email me from time to time. I used to accept comments on the blogs but responding to trolls became very tiresome. 😉 (I don't subscribe to social media for the same reason.)

Take care, folks, and be sure to nurture a positive thinking mindset no matter what life throws at you, and thanks again for dropping by,

Hugs,

Roger

PS I hope to complete a new poem for posting here on Monday. 

Homing in on (Positive) Thoughts

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

Being at home a lot, even working from home, especially if you live alone, can put a strain on even the most stoic among us. Social interaction, to a greater or lesser extent, is part and parcel of human nature; imposing restrictions, in any shape or form, is bound to cause some frustration and distress. “It’s all very well for the Government to tell us all to stay at home more,” a neighbour commented angrily, “… but if you are elderly and live alone, what can you do but watch TV, and that’s mostly doom and gloom these days.”

Well, there is lots we can do at home if we put our minds to it and, no, I don’t just mean the housework. 

Those fortunate to have a garden and be fit enough to tend it, can spend more time getting it ready for spring; indeed, any form of creativity, be it drawing or, painting, sowing, knitting, whatever … can prove an enjoyable distraction.

Ah, but what if (like me) you have no garden and are into none of those things, for whatever reason?

Well, there is always imagination; we all have it, and even those who claim to have none may well be pleasantly surprised if they just sit back, relax, and give mind-body-spirit a free rein, refusing to let any stubborn obstacles - like negative thinking - get in the way.

HOMING IN ON POSITIVE THOUGHTS

A tiny bird flew off my duvet
to perch on my shoulder and sing
love songs in my ear

A green leaf flew off my curtains
bringing tidings of hope’s brighter
eternal spring 

A black cat leapt up from my sofa
into my arms, as if to assure us both
it’s OK to dream on 

A loved-one’s photograph on hand
winked as if to say it’s rooting for me
in another life 

Encouraged, a stranger in my mirror
let years fall away, past-present-future
but another day

I went for a stroll just for the joy of it,
less daunted by a scary Here-and Now,
though as wary still

Mask on my face, but a lively spring
in my step, ready to give any pandemic
a run for its money

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

 

 

 

Trailblazers

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

A new poem today, a tell-tale sign that I am fighting depression; the latest of many battles against an old enemy; thanks to creative therapy of the kind writing poetry provides that I may well lose some, but am winning the war.

Charles Darwin changed the way we think about the origin of our species; Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream that continues to inspire the Black Lives Matter campaign;  closer to home, here in the UK, footballer Marcus Rashford has successfully called for free school meals for children from poorer families while schools are closed; actor Chadwick Boseman who has tragically died of colon cancer at the age of 43 has left an inspiring legacy for black actors worldwide … all these, and many others, are trailblazers and will remain trailblazers, a ‘live’ posthumous consciousness in hearts and minds worldwide.

“Be yourself; everyone else is already taken.” - Oscar Wilde  

“Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced.” - James Baldwin

“We may have all come on different ships, but we're in the same boat now.”  

- Martin Luther King Jr.

“No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Eleanor Roosevelt

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.” -  Helen Keller

TRAILBLAZERS

Assume nothing of humankind,

the Here-and-Now, part reality, part dream

fronting backroads of the mind

fuelling human nature, potential for nurture

(for better, for worse, gift or curse)

where formative years dare come into play

in the making, shaping of all we are

subject to question, reason and human nature’s

expectation of our futures

Ignore any negative voices

never backward in coming forward to tear

into human choices failing the test

of whatever is best for the rest of us has to be

right, invariably losing sight

of any aspiration, inspiration, presented

as a Human Right, while prevented

from seeing the light of day if failing to conform

to some ‘acceptable’ norm

Acceptable to whom, we may ask

having reached a point where we feel confident

of whatever task ahead may well be

misinterpreted under such various pretensions

designed to present gender identity,

and sexuality as a perverse intellectuality

failing (altogether)to see diversity

as a plus, not a minus, an acknowledged integrity

across a common humanity

Dare let that inner self go free, and pit itself against

any socio-cultural-sexual angst...?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

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

Finding Peace

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

Another new poem today as I take time off (among millions worldwide) to attempt minimising a dual sense of  frustration and despair caused by the coronavirus. As I have said many times on the blog, creative therapy always helps me.Try it sometime? Writing, gardening, sport or simply going for a walks and engaging with the more positive aspects of life around you ... birdsong, the smile on a stranger's face, bumping into an old friend and reliving the brighter side of life on Memory Lane, and more besides ... it all helps put a positive spin on even the most negative days ... yes, even if it's raining. 

As the world continues it fight against the coronavirus, there are people from different backgrounds and ethnic origin desperately anxious for families, friends, neighbours, and how the pandemic will affect us all both in the short and longer terms.

A neighbour commented only yesterday that she fears she will never know peace of mind ever again.

The human spirit is a tough cookie, and so are human beings; nor does it need religion to focus on what the host body needs most. Yes, religion offers many people the social and spiritual support they cannot find elsewhere, but the human spirit is something altogether different, part of our individual condition, which is why I often refer to mind-body-spirit as one entity.

I am not attacking religion; if it helps a person through life, so much the better. Religion is simply not something with which I have felt comfortable since childhood; as a pantheist, I see nature as, not the creation of any God. I daresay some readers may be horrified, but different religions have their own agendas and dogma through which they express their faith, why not a pantheist?.

 If God is all things to all people, why not to a poet? A poet, moreover, who believes very strongly in free as well as positive thinking, and agreeing to differ rather than constructing fences.

FINDING PEACE

It has been a bleak mid-winter

of the heart, the world’s natural seasons

overpowered, to the extent

that even Earth Mother’s gift of spring

has failed to either reassure

or bring hope to millions left engaging

with an invisible enemy,

chances of success 50:50, some estimates less,

world in distress

Governments trying to beat

unpredictable odds, racing against time

(and each other)

to produce a vaccine, between delivering

short fixes if not always

in time to prevent death rates rising,

street demonstrations

but inciting the usual party-political squabbling,

solving little or nothing

Leading clerics, unable to explain

any Covi19 turn of events in terms holy agenda,

customised dogma

rising to the politic, trusting the rhetoric

of dogma to fuel such a need

for reassurance as will fuel repentance,

swell congregations,

let rooftops ring with songs and hymns of praise

in the hope of finding peace

Peace, though, makes its home in mind-body-spirit,

having sought, found, and sees fit

Copyright R.N. Taber 2020

[Note; This poem also appears on my gay-interest blog today.]

Getting the Better of Fear OR Stranger than Fiction

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

[Update - April 26th 2020: Many of us suffer from depression at the best of times. The coronavirus pandemic means we are living in the worst of times many people will have had to confront in their lifetimes so far; the toll on mental health worldwide is incalculable. Where many of us will admit to being 'stressed out' those same people often prefer to avoid the term, 'mental illness'; they see its some kind of stigma. Whatever, our mental health is every bit as important as our physical health; both are necessary for our general well-being. 

Regular readers will know how much importance I place on positive thinking, the key to mental and physical health, now more than ever as we fight not only the pandemic itself, but our fears for its potential economic and social consequences worldwide. 

Enter, the human spirit, always on hand to lead us away from negative thinking by substituting a natural optimism ... if we let it. Life is tough for everyone at the moment, especially those struggling with the virus itself or who have already lost loved ones and friends to COVID-19, but also the world population in general; everyone fears the unknown and needs must find their own way of rising above that fear.  For me, it is creative therapy, and I recommend it;; this can be the arts, gardening, physical exercise ... anything we can enjoy, that will lift our spirits, offer the human spirit an opportunity to actively engage with us and  help us to help ourselves and encourage others to do the same.

The human condition is no pushover, not least in its capacity for love; let its nemeses throw what it will at us, we will overcome them if we but engage with its spirit full-on. As I've said on the blogs many times, I'm not a religious person, and it's my belief that religion does not have a monopoly on spirituality, but whatever ... if it works for you, GO for it.

..................................................................................

Now, regular readers will know I have suffered regular bouts of depression all my life. Creative writing is the lifeline that empowers me to drag myself out of it. Okay, so some of it that may not satisfy my critics, but it helps to keep me on an even(ish) keel and feedback suggests that it helps some readers to do the same.

Depression is a form of retreat from reality when we try (and inevitably fail miserably) to run away from aspects of life we prefer not to confront head-on for whatever reason; if we end up confronting anything it is our failure to run away which, of course, only exacerbates the depression.

Depressed people need patience, understanding and help. Sadly, all three are often found wanting in modern society. Indeed, I would go so far as to say there is little more of any now than when I had a severe nervous breakdown way back in the late 1970's.

It is important to remember that depression is an invisible illness; you cannot tell simply from looking at a person that he or she is depressed. If someone you know, though, starts behaving uncharacteristically in any way, please give them the benefit of the doubt and be there for them. Depressed people are often in denial (as I was myself all those years ago) so be supportive even where someone may well reject the idea they are in need of any support. 

I suffered from depression even as a child; being an avid reader saved me from the worst of it. I never thought of reading as creative therapy, but of course it was, just as writing would become in later years.  No one considered that children might get depressed in those days, but thankfully, attitudes have changed, and about time too.

Invariably, it takes time and care for mind, body and spirit to get back into sync, but where there's a will, there really is a way ....

GETTING THE BETTER OF FEAR or STRANGER THAN FICTION

I ran like a frightened rabbit,

a once-friendly darkness all but

choking my lungs;

every exit blocked, no escape,

sentenced to death in the pages

of a novel

Panic-stricken now, desperate

to feast my eyes on one glimpse

of freedom;

finally, surrendering to despair,

I paused, all but ready to see how

my story ends

Suddenly, the faintest memory

of some long-ago spring charged

my ailing heart;

calling upon a half buried will,

I somehow managed to chase it

down the last tunnel

In fresh air and warm sunshine

I found the peace that closes eyes

and lets dreams pass

where, oh, but we would follow,

give reality the slip and be a hero

in someone else’s novel

Yet, the story is mine alone to tell,

second chance at living, promising

a kinder ending;

as for those readers burrowing

dusty bookshelves, may they too

re-invent themselves

[From: Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

[Note: This poem first appeared on the blog in 2013 under the title, 'Run, Rabbit,Run'.]

The Last Word

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

Regular readers may recall that, in my late 60's, I had a bad fall that saw me housebound for several months and having to deal with a nasty clot in my left leg. I made a reasonable recovery, however, and am thankful I can get out and about again, albeit with the aid of a walking stick. Last year (my 73rd) I developed venous problems, resulting in a very painful ulcer on the same leg. I endured, persevered, and eventually came through it all still managing to take my cue from Monty Python and  keep looking on the bright side of life.

Lately, so much has been going wrong that, given certain health issues as well,  I even began to wonder if it was time to let go, and hive the Grim Reaper carte blanche do with me what he will.

Yet again, an inner voice chastised me mercilessly for being negative and demanded I find a way to recover a more positive consciousness. Eventually, I succeeded; not out of the woods altogether yet...but getting there, resolved to give old age a good run for its money, and let love have the last word.

Love, of course, comes in all shapes and forms; human relationships, bonding with nature and the arts, an affinity with the animal world including, naturally, our pets ... 

Nothing and no one has a monopoly on love, whether or not we subscribe to any religion.

Peace Be, regardless of any socio-cultural-religious differences, and let's work at being kinder to and more understanding of each other as, each of us in our own way, needs must runs the gauntlet life throws down. 

As my old English teacher. 'Jock' Rankin warned many years ago, "Never assume anything of anyone until you know them well enough, and that can take a lifetime."

THE LAST WORD

Old age,

hovering like some glittering sword

just above my head

inviting the unkindest cut of all

(before my time)

grown worse in later years, defaulting

to tears

Escape,

promising an eternal peace and rest

from the complications

of everyday existence, made worse

by new technology,

progress, (inevitably) leaving some of us

behind

Streets,

living nightmare, zombies doubling

for human beings,

glued to mobile phones, laptops,

whatever mind games

best distracting from the Here-and Now’s 

demands

Often,

(like me) needing a seat on train or bus,

fishing for eyes

alert to someone else’s struggling

to stay on top of things, only catching sight

of headphones

Old age,

an everyday see-saw, few roundabouts

and swings in play;

ups and downs, sometimes sick

at heart, always having to push down harder

on positive thinking

Memory,

fading fast, the sweeter ones sure to last

If only in part

where the human heart persists

in saving best for last, halcyon days in no hurry

to pass 

Death,  

hovering like the most beautiful thing,

barely out of reach,

and just as well since temptation

no match for a mind-body-spirit set on rescue

mode

Life,

worth every convincing heartbeat for years,

no matter its defaulting

to tears of pleasure, pain, whatever

till I’m up for leaving this mad world, giving love

the last word

Copyright R.N. Taber 2020

Posthumous Consciousness, Inspirational

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

Emails from several readers in the past have gently mocked what they see as my unhealthy preoccupation with ghosts. Fair enough, but we must agree to differ.

On the whole, my ghosts inspire me.  (Doesn't everyone have a few that would drag us down rather than lift us up?) There is my late mother, of course, as well as my old English teacher, ‘Jock’ Rankin from whom I learned considerably more than in the course of any curriculum-set lessons about clause analysis.  My old school captain, several former landlords and landladies as well as a work colleague, Val Berry, a wise old bird whom I visited until she died not so many years ago … all these people, to name but a few, have taught me a lot about life, death, and making as much as possible of each new day instead of whinging about (among other things) how time flies and leaves us trailing in its wake.

In the course of writing this poem, I found myself revisiting my favourite ghosts, and continuing to learn from them. I’d had several bad nights with the prostate cancer, was feeling pretty low, and not a little sorry for myself. Ah, but not anymore, though, which says a lot for creative therapy. For me, of course, it’s writing, especially poetry, but one person’s meat is someone else’s poison, and we have a veritable spectrum of options; the arts, walking, gardening, looking after animals and/or pot plants … anything that gives us food for thought and distracts us from the slings and arrows that daily life so loves to let fly in our direction from time to time.

Ah, but for a creative consciousness to inspire us and (hopefully) others along the way, it, too, needs to find inspiration; that's where our favourite ghosts come in, only ever a heartbeat away, as ready and willing to help us out in death as in life ... if only we will let them.

POSTHUMOUS CONSCIOUSNESS, INSPIRATIONAL 

Need to stay positive

when all positive thinkers

have gone to ground,

left me feeling desperate

for a lifeline

A positive outlook

too often seen as the stuff

of wishful thinking

in the face of any reality

under threat

Advised to get a grip

on what’s what, run a mile

from pretending

the worst not happening,

face it head-on

Now, looking the worst

in the eye, frantically trying

to make sense

of some dark, anonymous

senselessness

All but giving up on it all,

mind-body-spirit losing heart

given no one

offering a lifeline but Job’s

comforters

Suddenly, out of nowhere,

a posthumous consciousness

telling me off

for caving in far too easily

to circumstances

I can hear my late mother

demanding, am I man or mouse

to even consider

caving in to prostate cancer,

no fight left …?

Denial on my lips, diverted

by home truths having to admit

she had a point;

now sensing an upbeat heart

re-asserting itself

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019