A History

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Many if not most of us have them, moments in time that are surreal, take us out of ourselves and would have us look back at all personal space stripped bare of any well-chosen décor meant to give us a sense of belonging, and we do feel that… for the greater part of us that’s real. 

Only, now and then we treat ourselves to acting out some wannabe persona, lending it a reality, letting it in while, at the same time, acknowledging the need to return it where it (no ‘we’) could well have belonged, but for having to… get real?

A HISTORY

A small child,
playing in the street
outside the house
where I was born, not a care
of the world’s making,
but for its nagging mind-body-spirit
that on my own head be it

Teenage years,
home truths doing battle
with fake news,
faux stereotypes ganging up
on me, redefining
my identity, pressuring that part of me
engaging with my sexuality

A young adult
confused, all but lost
in mixed feelings,
seeking a place to belong.
left dangling 
by a favourite pop song over my head, 
bent on raising the half-dead

Older, wising up
to the ways of a world
that would have us
hang and let hang, devil take
the hindmost,
stiff upper lip, ready cue for surviving;
living and partly living

You-Me-Us, 
body of such thought
across eternity,
as left hanging by art forms
on the inner eye,
looking to make any sense or none at all
of its heart-and-soul

A small child,
playing in the street
outside the house
where he/ she was born, no cares
of the world’s making,
but for ghosts nagging a mind-body-spirit
that on its own head be it

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Making a Difference

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

"If you think you are too small to make a difference, ty sleeping with a mosquito." - Dalai Llama

Too often we underestimate the effect of the little things we do to try and make the lives of others that much better, but it is always worth remembering any kindnesses we perform may well have the effect of sending a message of goodwill which, in turn, may well be passed on and on and on... across generations, for all we know. 

Sadly, though, much the same can also be said for any acts of spite.

Now, we all make mistakes, of course, but while eighteenth century poet Alexander Pope may well have been spot on when he wrote "To err is human..."* it is no excuse for antisocial behaviour.

MAKING A DIFFERENCE

Will a fallen angel
pick on me and drag me away
or will a gentler spirit have mercy,
come Judgement Day?

Will a wolfish Death
delight in tearing me apart
or strike suddenly if no less cleanly
at my heart?

Will doves of peace
be left to wing eternal light
or an infernal dark, in other words,
out of mind, out of sight?

Not ours to know,
the how, where or when,
but encourage a grown any wiser self
to look and learn?

Dare we unite in peace
and love, let common sense
rule, or trust our leaders and betters
to do right by us?

The greater trust we have,
a brighter light likely shining
in ourselves and on each other, mutual
giving and taking

Where an endgame strategy
devised to put one over on us,
who dares, sees mind-body-spirit making,
all the difference

 Copyright R. N. Taber, 2002; rev. 2022

* From:: An Essay on Criticism, 1711.

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in my collection, First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002; it has been  considerably revised, however, and may not justify its being called a revised version.] RT

Hello again, folks, from London UK

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

Hello again folks, from London UK

No poem today, but I am working on one, not only for you all but for me too. As with most people, the pandemic continues to taken its toll on yours truly. As if growing old and living alone was not enough to contend with, I find myself struggling to rise above the kind of depression that comes with battling various health issues - not least, my prostate cancer - on a daily basis.

At least I understand the nature of what I what I am up against and do so with a hopeful heart. Some battles are beyond understanding, prejudice being one of them. Prejudice against another human being is a sickness I find very hard to understand, and I am not speaking simply as a gay man.

Those who nurture feelings of racism, sexism, any kind of hate form against another human being simply because they don't like colour of their skin, their gender or the  nature of their sexuality... or whatever... is beyond all understanding.

Not for the first time, I received complaints about my last post along the lines that "... a gay-interest poem has no place on a 'supposedly' general poetry blog." That may well be true, but the motivation behind a poem is every bit important as the poem itself.

There are many men and women out there to whom the faith in which they were raided remains important to them even if they discover during puberty that they are of an LGBT+ persuasion, which most religious dogma condemns. Homosexuality and gender identity are no less a part of the human condition than any  mind-body-spirit that identifies with and feels a compelling empathy with the religion in which they have been raised.

Another reader has emailed to complain that "As you say you are not religious yourself, how can you, a godless person, justify a poem that is a religious allegory - of sorts..."

Hopefully I have explained if not justified the reason for the poem in the previous paragraph and other blog posts. As for my being a "godless" person, I have never claimed to be one, except in the way most world religions would have it. Pantheists believe that God is nature, not its creator. 

Anyone who has experienced as intimate an affinity with nature as with a God that not only doesn't discriminate along such prejudicial lines as some human beings, but neither sees any form of  bigotry as a "natural" element of any mind-body-spirit. Over the years, I have meat many people who share much the same experience, albeit I dare say they my well prefer not to see themselves as pantheists... or poets, for that matter.

 How a person feels, how he or she fills their personal space, that is where human choice lies, and it is only human to make  bad choices sometimes; these can never (quite) rectified, but the capacity to recognise  and change is also innate to mind-body-spirit and it should not require religion to state the terms of  a sinner's repentance or forgiveness. If we can repent and forgive ourselves, it is my belief that the greater, natural part of mind-body-spirit will rest easier for that and form the better part likely to engage with an empathic consciousness in life or death. 

      I'm not asking anyone to agree with me, simply trying to answer (to myself as much as anyone) why poetry helps me get through bad times and lets me feel a sense of spirituality as well as sheer pleasure in better, kinder times. Not an answer that will satisfy some if not many readers, I'm sure, but like everyone else, I can but try to get to the root of such thought processes that many philosophers and many a finer poet than I has attempted to reach for centuries.

Take care, keep well and nurture as positive thinking a mindset as you can,

Back soon,

Roger

Guess who's Coming to Dinner OR Party Piece

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

Time changes many if not most things about us, for better or for worse, yet there are aspects of human nature that remain steadfast; whether or not we choose to let them see the light of day or keep them under wraps, though, is another matter.

An American acquaintance returned to the U.S. last year. In latter days, whenever I visited, his delightful budgerigar's cage was always covered with a cloth. Once, I asked why. He grinned, and confided that he often talked to it and it had been known to name names along with random aspects of conversation best left for his own ears only. Among other things, he had very strong views about Donald Trump's presidency which I share; I would have so loved to lift that cloth, but sadly the bird died before an opportunity presented itself. 

Why hasn't the man spoken out about years of injustice towards African-Americans and other ethnic minorities, vowed to stamp out police brutality all but commonplace in some parts of the U.S.? He clearly can no more judge the mood of the people any more than a significant number of other senior politicians around the world.

“Strong minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, weak minds discuss people.”
― Socrates

This poem is a kenning.

GUESS WHO’S COMING TO DINNER or PARTY PIECE

My favourite party piece,

lives in disarray, any willing

to help clear up the mess

giving up in despair while others

would steal my limelight

with various blotted copybooks

and dirty laundry like bailiffs

banging on doors, demanding dues

(to even old scores?)

Everyone's worst enemy,

often inflicting pain even when 

a person's best interests 

at heart. Ah, but whose? Few, indeed

can look me in the eye,

swear altruism, no ulterior motive,

for playing mind games

with hidden truths too close to home

for comfort

Colour me right or wrong,

add subtle shades of light and dark.  

as appealing to the con artist 

in us all as acknowledging the efforts

of a creative spirit privy 

to the heart's persuasion, called out

for a coward when playing safe, 

yet hedging my bets, anxious to play fair

for appearances sake

Call me Gossip, everyone’s favourite sinner,

an open invitation to dinner

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010, 2020

Reading between the Lines

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

This poem appeared on my gay-interest blog earlier this month; needless to say several religious-minded readers protested. As regular readers know I respect all religious beliefs even if I happen to take issue with them all; it would appear, though, that non-Believers are not necessarily afforded the same respect. Fortunately for humankind, not everyone is so narrow-minded; or is it arrogance that convinces some people thay are right so everyone else has to be wrong, and damned for it?

For those readers who are less than happy about my carrying over some poems from my gay-interest  poetry archives, I cannot expect everyone to like everything I write so feedback is really helpful. [Contact me any time at rogertab@aol.com with 'Poetry' in the subject field if you would like a reply or just leave a comment on the blog if you prefer to remain anonymous, but I do not post comments so they will only be seen by me.]

Meanwhile...

Why is it so many people say one thing when they really mean another, often the complete opposite?A human trait throughout history, it is plainly one that political correctness encourages. It is so typical of many people when asked for a point of view that they try to suss out the questioner's standpoint first for fear of causing offence and/or being misunderstood and/or wrongly accused, and having to face consequences they do not deserve (or maybe they do...)

It would seem that honesty and free speech are among the first victims of any society whether supposedly democratic or otherwise. Yes, we need to care about each other, but not under false colours; in Romania, for example, LGBT communities have grown in recent years; it was named by Human Rights Watch as one of five countries in the world that have made "exemplary progress in combating rights abuses based on sexual orientation or gender identity. However, as we all know only too well, there can be no legislation for bad attitude.

I write this only hours after witnessing a so-called gay-friendly acquaintance I have known for years verbally abusing two young men for kissing in the street.I was walking on the other side, but could clearly see and hear the commotion opposite. When younger and fitter, I would have leapt to their defence, but the area is well-known for hate crime and the need for a walking stick in old age urges caution. Besides, the gay couple were clearly able to give as good as got even as they moved on from a small crowd that had started to gather, and was clearly not taking their side.

I went on my way, the sound of someone shouting, "Sickies, hell is too good for the likes of you!"

A phrase from Shakespeare's King Lear instantly sprung to mind, 'More sinned against than sinning.'

It will be interesting to hear what my longtime acquaintance has to say the next time we meet as I will not hold back from raising the subject...

READING BETWEEN THE LINES

There are many who will say

that being gay is a sin against humankind

and God

Humankind is judgemental

by nature, but does that fit in with a God

of Love?

There are many who will argue

that same sex relationships are unnatural

acts

According to whom, unnatural

as each to our own way of thinking, dogma

too?

There are many who (still) insist

it offends the eye to see two men or women

embrace

Oh, and why must any human eye

on embraces it finds offensive even go there

at all?

There is a majority who will agree

any words invoking LGBT images suggest ‘sick’

minds

Oh, and does a majority promote

healthy living in its rape of nature for capitalist

gratification?

There are few who support Equality

and Human Rights unconditionally, absolutely

no holds barred

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

P-E-A-C-E, Sounds of Silence

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

The world is always turning, yet how little it has changed in real terms (i.e. those that really count) since its creation...

Recent reminders of war and fierce resistance to dictatorship in various parts of the world and hate crime on our very own doorsteps brought this poem to mind.

When will they ever learn? Oh, when will we (all) ever learn?

This poem is a villanelle.

  

P-E-A-C-E,  SOUNDS OF SILENCE 

Oh, for the sound of silence
as only heard in dreams
where no one wins or loses,
but common sense rules
on a reality check where grief

ceases firing its guns

in a deaf-blind rage against
a mind-body-spirit
down but never out if slower
to take heart

No escape from loneliness

on wings of a bird...

but in the sound of silence

before applause bursts

upon the grand Theatre of Life

for our playing a part

rather than sitting in the stalls

letting better actors

than ourselves be accomplices

to illusion

Where poverty, hunger,  pain,

crying out to be free,

find in loving one another

no small relief 

from the failings of any senses

put on hold for want

of meaning, purpose and faith

in ourselves, 

bring light to the darkness angels 

fear to tread

Oh, to let fall a safety curtain
on worldly sounds
distracting mind-body-spirit
from finding peace,
as a child chasing a butterfly
might well be
by the shouts of peers apparently
enjoying more rewards
than in a seemingly futile pursuit
of quiet wings

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2018

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Towards Enlightenment' in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]

A Feeling For Love-Hate Relationships

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

Some readers may be interested to know that a new serial begins on my fiction blog today. Sacrilege was first published in the UK in 2008 and is Book Two in a planned trilogy Blasphemy-Sacrilege-Redemption. [Book Three has been delayed through illness but I hope to finish writing it in time to serialise it on the blog next year before publishing the entire trilogy as e-editions on Google Play.]

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.com

Meanwhile…

Can we really love and hate at the same time? I think so, yes. Some people (and places) make us SO mad sometimes, yet we love them to bits.

I hate London much of the time, especially these days as it is so overcrowded, yet I miss it as a lover misses his or her partner whenever I am away for long.  Certainly, too, I have discovered it is possible to hate certain people almost as much as loving them. They are weighty words, love and hate. I suspect we use them too freely in the course of everyday conversation, indeed as we journey through life.

There are even more abstract forms of love hate-relationships, too, which nonetheless have a bearing on our lives; we may well prefer to avoid them, but such is our need for them that we have little or no choice but to engage with them now and then. Mind you, any thanks for their timely intervention is likely to be more than a shade mixed with resentment for our feeling  unable to resists engaging with them at all; much the same principle applies to many if not most love-hate relationships turn…

This poem is a kenning.

A FEELING FOR LOVE-HATE RELATIONSHIPS

Oh, but I will always try
to be there for you whenever
I am needed,
keep my distance when it feels
more appropriate,
listen whenever you need an ear,
and support you
where the heart makes a pitch
for centre-stage

Oh, but I will always try
to look into your head should
you turn against me
in the intense heat of emotions
setting themselves
against us (for whatever reason)
descending to a wintry chill
and left unacknowledged between
cracks in thin ice

Oh, but I will always try
to bring you gently down to earth
when fine ideals fly
in the face of temporal priorities
primed to shoot down
any aspirations of a human spirit
likely to blow a hole
in the arms budget, and give peace
a fighting chance

Agreed cover for home truths and lies,
I pass for the Spirit of Compromise

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

A Short History Of London

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I grew up in Kent and would often spend a few weeks of my summer holidays in London where my maternal grandparents lived. This would have been in the 1950s when London suffered from periods of dense smog; the air here is considerably cleaner now still much polluted as in so many major cities.

When I was a boy, my mother would bring me to London on my birthday to see the Christmas lights in Oxford and Regent Streets; in take on a theme and all the major stores would reflect this in their shop window displays. The effect was magical. To this day, I recall how an Aladdin theme took young Roger's breath away, and it must have been a good fifty years ago.

Pollution aside, it is a great place to live, especially if you are rich (which am not) if only for its wealth of art galleries, museums and various historic icons like Buckingham Palace, Tower of London, the Monument and  St Paul’s Cathedral as well as newer ones like The Gherkin and The Shard...etc. etc.

I am fortunate to live within a short walking distance of Hampstead Heath and can easily access Green Park via the nearby Regent’s Canal. I sometimes find it hard to believe that I live in the heart of a bustling metropolis. To be honest, it is too bustling these days. London is very overcrowded as anyone who uses its stressful public transport network will confirm. 

Photo: The Tower of London

A SHORT HISTORY OF LONDON

Find love, hate and mystery
(politics of redemption);
zoom lens on a city’s history

No passing hint of jealousy
in its powers of persuasion;
find love, hate and mystery

Mansion and hovel, secretly
writing up its passion;
zoom lens on a city’s history

In darkest prose and poetry
of its tower-prison,
find love, hate and mystery

Feeding on Sam’s feisty diary,
flames of determination;
zoom lens on a city’s history

Come a multicultural century
(cause for celebration)
find love, hate and mystery;
zoom lens on a city’s history

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

[From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010; rev. ed. in e-format in preparation.]