The Enemy Within

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

“The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.”- Sylvia Plath

“Our doubts are traitors,
and make us lose the good we oft might win,
by fearing to attempt.” - William Shakespeare, Measure for Measure 

“I had some ambition. I meant everything to be different with me. I thought I had more strength and mastery. But the most terrible obstacles are such as nobody can see except oneself.” - George Eliot. (Lydgate in Middlemarch)

“Nature knows no pause in progress and development, and attaches her curse on all inaction.” - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Now, I have been plagued by self-doubt all my life, not least for having been put down during my childhood for my perceptive deafness and a cleft palate resulting in a bad lisp. I managed the jokes at my expense with a ready sense of humour, appearing content to laugh at myself along with everyone else, no matter how I felt inside. It was not until early adult years that I would ne diagnosed with the perceptive deafness, which made a huge difference as would speech therapy to tackle the lisp. Knowing the physical reasons why, improved my self-confidence. Even so, few people grasp the implications of perceptive deafness, so I still had a battle royal on my hands on that front. As a child, I also wore awful spectacles which didn’t help matters…

The best thing about my childhood, and which has been a close ally ever since, remains a sense of humour, now less necessary as a form of self-defence but enjoyed for its own sake. It has certainly helped me through the past ten years of having to deal with my prostate cancer. 

As for self-doubt, yes, it still plagues me, but I now shrug it off more easily these days and focus on the brighter side of life…

True, with hindsight, I could have made more of my life, but - as we all know - there never was any point in crying over spilt milk, so…better to make the best of the Here-and-Now than brood on how past-present-future might have panned out but for… whatever. Besides, life is a learning curve and where we find ourselves on that curve, at any moment in time, is down to us, no one else and no excuses, however feasible the latter may seem. I have met some wonderful people, felt privileged to have enjoyed some great friendships (and still do) so... I prefer to count my blessings and  take my cue from them rather be a miserable old git. LOL

I hope you like the poem.

THE ENEMY WITHIN

No one has perfected the art
of inaction such as I,
who am that cloud across the sun.
threatening a storm,
sending you scuttling for cover,
finer endeavours on hold,
mind-body-spirit excused
its responsibilities, for now at least,
well-deserving of rest

Time enough, indeed, to throw
your hat in the ring,
let your finest rhetoric take shape
before translating words
into action, proving their worth,
taking credit where due,
when you judge the moment right,
confident of that measure of success
sure to guarantee happiness

 Ah, but there are no guarantees,
once I have you
by the neck; no stranglehold, it’s true,
but having you wrestle
in vain to be free of me, achieve
your heart’s desire,
recover its finer, intuitive senses
from a mind-body-spirit so wary of a fall,
as deaf to heart-and-soul

I am Self-doubt, the unseen enemy within,
targeting all things human

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022 

Love, an Agenda all its Own

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

This poem is from my gay-interest poetry blog for April 2016.

We cannot help with whom we fall in love, but our love is not always reciprocated in the same way. Loving someone who sees us as a close friend, no more or less, can be hard sometimes. Even so, - whether we are gay or straight, male or female - friendship is a wonderful thing, and if worth having, always worth saving…whatever it takes.

No one gender or sexual orientation has a monopoly on love; it really does have an agenda all its own, and who are we to argue with that?

Any commitment to loving each other is down to those immediately concerned, no one else, whatever our socio-cultural-religious (or sexual) preferences. I put it to you that more of us should respect and at least try to support those choices instead of criticising (or worse) simply because we do not agree with them.

LOVE, AN AGENDA ALL ITS OWN

There’s a poem I’ve often tried to write

about the way his hair blows in a breeze

and his face almost vanishes from sight

but for a wicked laughter in the eyes

There’s a poem I’ve often tried to write

about the way his voice eases my pain

like a balm to sores, moon to wintry night,

sunshine filtering through a summer rain

There’s a poem I’ve often tried to write

about the way his hugs near break my heart

and how, as his arms are holding me tight,

it aches for knowing we must quickly part

There’s a friend for whom I often begin 

poems I know he’ll wish I’d not written…

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007

[Note: This poem has been slightly revised from an earlier version that appears under the title 'Genesis' in Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007.]

Christmas, Cue for an Open Heart

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

For years now I have written a general and gay-interest Poem for Christmas and sent it to everyone on my contact list instead of a Christmas card, not least because (as other poems on the blog may well illustrate) I am not a particularly Christmassy person.  It is my pleasure to share this one with you; the other will appear on my gay blog and both will appear on my Google Plus site. (Although I have a gay and general poetry site, as far as I am concerned, a poem is a poem is a poem, regardless of content which is why I am pleased to post both on Google Plus.)

Incidentally, some of you may be interested to know that I am giving a sponsored poetry reading for Prostate Cancer UK on World Poetry Day, May 21, 2017. I will not only be celebrating having seen my poetry in print for 60 years (my first poem appeared in my school magazine, 1957) but also living with prostate cancer for 6+ years. 

As I am not a religious person, Christmas means nothing to me in that sense. While I can appreciate and respect the fact that religious festivals are important to those who wish to celebrate their religion, it often seems to me (being gay) that any messages of love, peace and goodwill to everyone are little more than empty words. 

Religions are only closed shops, though, if their followers choose to make them so; many if not most (but not all, thank goodness) have closed hearts, open only to those who follow its dogma to the letter. (Heaven forbid, anyone should ‘deviate’ even in the name of humanity). Any inhumanity is easily put aside for a Heaven that’s any sheep’s reward for not having the temerity to stray from the dogmatic fold as preached by ‘betters’ who would appear to have His (or Her?) ear. 

Some readers may think my Christmas poems disrespectful, but I can assure you that it is not towards religion that I am so minded but towards those who - in my experience - pay little more than lip service to the major lessons (any) religion professes to preach; e.g. peace,  love, equality, respect and fairness amongst a common humanity…

Thank you for reading my blog/s, hope you have found plenty to enjoy, and here’s wishing you all a VERY Happy Christmas. 

CHRISTMAS, CUE FOR AN OPEN HEART

A pet is not just
for Christmas
nor should December
have a monopoly
on spreading peace 
and goodwill

Love is not just
for Christmas
nor should celebrating
any religion
mean shutting one
up or out

Caring is not just
for Christmas
nor can token gestures
of goodies
repay neglecting
the real thing

Mind, body, spirit,
have no need 
of fairy lights on trees,
decorations,
or even and being seen 
going to prayers

Let’s celebrate
the heart
that’s open all seasons
and all hours,
no one turned away,
no excuses 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Stoic Spirit, Vulnerable Heart

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

It is so true what they say about discovering who your real friends are when the going gets tough. Since I was diagnosed with prostate cancer in February 2011, several people I thought were good friends have rarely if at all even been in touch by phone or email. I am not upset if a little hurt, but mostly a feel a sense of déjà vu, having been here before. Even so, I am fortunate enough to have friends who are very supportive and more than compensate for those that choose to look the other way.

Of course, other people have their own lives to lead, may well have problems of their own they have no wish to share or are simply too busy to put friends first. But real friendship deserves better, surely? Otherwise, it is an illusion. Sadly, too many people see friendship as a one-way street; they take what they can get from it, and give precious little if anything back.

True, we don’t give to receive, but when we put ourselves out for people, show a genuine interest in their lives and try to give support whenever they ask for it, don’t we deserve better than a metaphorical slap in the face?

Few of us set out to deliberately hurt others. It’s just a sad fact of human nature that some people are so blinkered to any if not all home truths.  It can take many years before we call it a day with he or she who has played a significant part in our lives only to let us down time and again. It is never an easy decision, and one many of us are just as likely to retract should he or she ever need us again.

This poem is a kenning.

STOIC SPIRIT, VULNERABLE HEART

I run the gauntlet

of love, life, fun and tears,

trying to make the best

of things rather than complain

about the worst years,

struggling to rise above

the pain human beings

inflict upon each other time

and again

I turn to nature

for comfort and brief respite

from a daily torture

humanity asks me to endure

with all the dignity

and stoicism of someone

always expected to put

other people’s needs before

their own

I lie awake at night

wondering who or what

is wrong or right

amongst all that’s been said

and done in the course

of whatever merry chase

mischievous Apollo

and outcast Cassiopeia care

to lead us on

I am that sense of loss and hurt,

trailing where friendships abort

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

Listening Out for a Love Song

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

Only fools take little or no care to create and store happy memories as they go through life or on wintry days, when a north wind blows, they will have little or nothing by which to warm themselves, take hope, and feel inspired. 

Be sure, second hand memories won’t do the trick.

I have said much the same thing before and a reader got in touch to say that his partner has Alzheimer’s so what use are their happy memories?

Well, I believe that a person does not have to articulate on happy memories to enjoy them; the spirit of that happiness never dies and will sustain us through just about anything. In my experience, where that spirit is weak or absent, the human heart tells a very different story. 

I have known people with Alzheimer's and other forms of  dementia  Carers  have related experiences about loved ones with the illness as it progresses; many of those who have it seem able to convey and live (for much if not all the time) in the spirit of a happy past even though they cannot recall it in much or any detail. Perhaps this is wishful thinking of my part, but an overwhelming impression all the same.

A time may well come for ny of us when we forget the life we've had in the sense that we cannot articulate on it in any detail, but it will have left a trail of felt experiences that never quite leave us; our feelings can take us anywhere we want to be, and we do not need to choose as we are guaranteed a happy ending, if only because mind-body-spirit will be immune to anything less. 

A husband and devoted carer once said much the same thing to me so it isn’t just a poet’s rhetoric. ‘It keeps me sane,” he told me, “knowing that the spirit of the love we have shared for the best part of a lifetime is still there, intact. True, its human container is outwardly more than a shade battered, bruised and all but beyond recognition, but its contents will remain as fresh, pure and precious as ever for as long as at least one of us continues to draw breath. After that…who knows?”

Who, indeed  ...?

LISTENING OUT FOR A LOVE SONG

A north wind, penetrating within,

purging the soul, tearing skin

from a body staring ruin in the face,

and no way back to how it was.

(hope but a leaf or flower away)

swept along the wrong track,

hope fading, fear rising of losing

all mind-body-spirit that makes me 

who I am ... 

Blows a cruel wind, tears freezing,

faces turned heavenwards

seeking aid, mercy, grace, forgiveness

for the error of our ways,

judgments cast in stone to boost egos

begging their superiority
over minorities, teeth showing

like the smile on the face of a tiger

selecting priorities

We persevere. Let fear do its worst,

we shall endure, see the sun shine

in our faces again, belie the damage

of acid rain, camouflage our pain

under slick, blank sheets of copy paper

signifying nothing, signing us up

for whatever the world cares

to have us say we feel, no matter

what’s just or real

Listen. Above a howling of wolves,

a love song making itself felt ...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2019

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'When the Wind Blows' in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]