Smoke

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

 “It is better to understand little than to misunderstand a lot.” - Anatole France

“We’re all islands shouting lies to each other across seas of misunderstanding.”  - Rudyard Kipling

“In the whole round of human affairs, little is so fatal to peace than misunderstanding.” - Margaret Elizabeth Sangster

Sometimes, we convince ourselves we are on the right track for achieving this or that goal; rightly or wrongly, only one way to find out. Invariably, this means communicating our aims and purpose to others, which, in turn requires bringing into play the process of communication. Sadly, we do not always communicate well, - especially with the written word alone - leaving ourselves wide  open to one of the unkindest life-death forces of all… misunderstanding.

Friends and family, for example, often  disagree . Now, agreeing to differ is one thing, but when certain perspectives on whatever it is people disagree about are distorted by misunderstandings, then any smoke in the eyes needs to be cleared, the fire put out while still manageable. 

More often than not, all it takes is a willingness to try and understand each other and talk things through, the life and breath of real communication, a life force so often killed by those of us unable to see clearly for the smoke of human egocentricities. Well, we can but try, bearing in mind that it takes more than one person to talk things through and someone has to make the first move or... 

Many if not most of us often need some signs of encouragement to make that first move; no encouragement, no positive thinking; another family member or friend lost to that old troublemaker,  Misunderstanding. 

As my mother used to say, when in doubt...don't be afraid to ask - or be quick to take offence at what you might hear, just get stuck in and talk things through.

Sadly, given that misunderstandings invariably give rise to false assumptions, those same assumptions only encourage more smoke... in which any need or desire to ask is inclined to go out of sight, out of mind.

SMOKE 

The voice is clear
so, too, its sounds falling on my ear
even as they become distorted
by other voices in my head raising
doubts, confusing me
for their incompatibility with sounds
I expected to hear, the words
in my ear all but another language to me,
a growing incompatibility

The way is not clear
to make a reply to silences in my ear,
taken me by surprise by smoke
in the eyes where the only fire lit lies
within a heart-and-soul
unable to quite believe what it’s hearing,
questions put to life forces
prompting a need to engage in discussion,
only to change direction 

Having wrestled clear
of doubts, fears and other nightmares,
I continue on my way
as first mapped out by my convictions,
disturbed, but not deterred
by smoke, in other eyes now, failing to see
the alternative reality inspiring
me to go on, in pain for leaving you behind,
unable to read your mind…

Time, barely healing its cuts from our failing
to head off tragedies of misunderstanding

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sunrise

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

The human spirit deserves a voice; it certainly deserves better than any form or dregree of incarceration, self-imposed or otherwise.

Just as many gay boys and girls, men and women worldwide may find it hard to be open about their sexuality, many if not most people (gay or straight) have feelings they are obliged to hide for one reason or another; nothing gives the human spirit its freedom like coming out of hiding, and breaking the silence, self-imposed or otherwise, that drove it there.

SUNRISE

Gagging on the quiet,
blinded by the dark,
not deaf, though, to wolves
howling for blood

Thoughts, vague shapes
like ink blots
on pages charting molehills
to mountains

Moon, no guardian here
but a mythology
written in charcoal, that reads,
 ‘I told you so…’

Stars, hijacked by a night
in fierce deadlock
with Earth Mother and human
vulnerability

Trapped, lost, a no-hoper
being crushed
to nothingness just for asking,
‘What’s the point?’

Enter, dawn’s weepy light,
Apollo’s first take
on Earth Mother and the human  
condition

Risen to breaking silences,
inner eye and ear
awakening like sleepy egg-birds
to find a voice

Copyright R N. Taber 2015

A Harper's Song

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

As requested by a number of readers, the link below is to my informal poetry reading on the 4th plinth in London's Trafalgar Square; it was my contribution to sculptor Antony  Gormley's One and Other 'live' sculpture' project which involved 2,400 people doing their 'own' thing' for one hour 24/7 over 100 days during the summer of 2009:

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T [NB: Sept 19, 2019 - The British Library confirmed today that he video is no longer available as it was incompatible with a new IT system, However, it still exists and BL hope to reinstate it and make it available to the public again at some future date.] RNT

Meanwhile...

My mother once told me that the best thing a parent can do for his or her children is to encourage them to think for themselves, believe in themselves and stand on their own two feet. Oh, but that is all so true!

Ah, but she never said it would be easy for either parent or child. She certainly had a hard time with me and I am just so grateful she persevered. Although she died in 1976 at the age of 59, I like to think she would be pleased if not proud I’ve come as far as I have. True, this may not seem very far to some people, but to paraphrase the legendary Neil Armstrong, one person’s small step is another person’s giant leap.

A HARPER’S SONG

A child is born and its very first cry
plays on the heart like a harp to the soul;
instrument for a lifetime, you and I,
following every note’s rise and fall

A child is born and its eyes upon us
read the words in our hearts like a poem
about life’s great joys and its mysteries
if sometimes, the challenge, a battle hymn

A child is born and we’ll tell everyone
of this jewel come to light that is ours,
and may it shine like the morning sun
nurturing earth’s songbirds and flowers

Be there cheers or tears, let the harper play
and the child, like a flower, find its way

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