The Gambler OR 'If' Revisited

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

The poem below first appeared on the blog in 2016; along with other recent posts, it has been removed from the archives and (significantly) revised in order to re-publish here today. For anyone interested, though, there are many poems in the archives that will remain there so feel free to browse any time; I am only removing any that I feel, years on, need some revision (either the poem itself, its title ... or both.)

I am no gambler in the sense that I rarely bet for financial reward, but line most people I have nursed ambitions, followed my heart, fought my share of battles as a direct consequence, and ... yes, won some, lost some. Years ago, I had three driving ambitions; to look the world in the eye as a gay person, be a librarian and a poet. I have managed all three, but it took time for mind-body-spirit to take each proverbial bull by its horns and reconcile myself to as well as accept responsibility for any consequences. While nothing in my life has worked out quite as I had hoped, I remain, at 74, content enough to have,on balance, won more wars with mind-body-spirit than battles lost; it is how I deal with the threat of Covid-19 ... as just another battle in just another war ... and what will be, will be. 

Now, I get angry when people comment along the lines of someone’s having no ambition, just as I get angry when, as often as not, it is the same people who criticise another person's lifestyle and/ or sexual persuasion; it is none of their damn business.

Ambition means different things to different people and cannot be measured in terms of ‘success’ or ‘failure’; far too often these things are measured in terms of fame and/or fortune without taking into account someone’s success as a well-meaning, decent person; in the latter category, you will often find some of the poorest people in the world. 

Gambling on our potential to make a success if an idea or even a relationship is a win-win; even if circumstances conspire against us, we will have done our best; others might not see it that way, but if we are honest with ourselves, we know the truth of the matter. Yes, we may wish we had done certain things differently, made different choices … but, that’s life … and hindsight is not something we should beat ourselves up over. Hopefully, we will not only learn from our mistakes, but also pass them on to help others avoid them too; if there is a silver lining, the latter has to be it.

At the same time, we are all but human, fallible, and not infrequently vulnerable. Few things goad a person into taking a misguided path in life (if - initially, at least - for all the right reasons) than self-criticism for failing to live up to someone else's expectations, especially if that person is a loved one.  We think we need to 'prove ourselves'.  Sadly - as in the case of many a gambler for purely financial gain -we not only risk losing ourselves, but also much of if not all we hold dear along the way.

My late mother, to whose words of wisdom I often wish I had listened to more while she was alive - she died 40+ years ago just months before my 30th birthday - would often say when I confided this or that life plan running circles in my mind - "Always have a plan B, dear, just in case if things don't quite work out as you hoped." Fortunately, I did listen some of the time, and many a Plan B has been a lifesaver.

This poem is a kenning.

THE GAMBLER or 'IF' REVISITED

I can be a friend or foe, take me as you will

to a corner of your heart and let me stay

to whisper sweet words of love and desire

in your ear, bring precious respite

from life’s trials, wars and sleepless nights

for worry, fear, dread of what the day

may yet devour. I can light your darkness.

Only, dare dance with me on the shadow line,

win some, lose some? 

I can be a friend or foe, take me as you will

into a corner of your mind and let me stay

to whisper unkind words of lust and desire

in your ear, rarely offering any respite

from life’s trials, wars and sleepless nights

for worry, fear, dread of what day may bring,

rain or shine. Enough. Time to go along 

with whatever inner forces insisting we have
something to prove? 

Yes, the human whole comprises such parts

as may be taken for partner, friend or foe;
whatever, it insinuates the self, feeds on it, 
driving mind-body-spirit for good or ill,
has no respect for any self-awareness of 'easy'

money as fool's gold, while neither taking 
every dreamer for a fool who feels the need

to live for such tomorrows as may never come
but just might, if ...

Call me Ambition. neither saint nor sinner,

but self-styled winner (or loser)

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2016

[Note: This post/ poem also appears on my gay-interest poetry blog today; an earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Dirty Dancing' in Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007.]

Autobiography of a Master Builder

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

In the history of humankind, everyone has a conscience or at least an awareness of something for which they deserve to feel a sense of regret, even guilt; whether or not we take much if any notice, of course, is something else altogether. Anyone who chooses to ignore matters of conscience - or block them out, as the case may be -  may well mean they will carry on regardless, even 're-offend'.

We can never quite be rid of any form of self-awareness (and alter ego), whether it be for better or worse; such, perhaps, are the ghost selves that haunt us, manifestations of all we see as mistakes we have made or whatever ...?

History and personal history all have their ghosts; we need to acknowledge these, if only to enlist their aid to prevent either repeating itself, except in a good way, for we are all born into innocence and goodness although fortunate, indeed, is he or she who resists any temptation to stray in an opposite direction, for whatever reason, as we tackle the ups and downs of life on an everyday basis.

We can, all of us, but do our best not to stray, and if we cannot forgive ourselves for such times as we do, we can at least allow our ghosts to remind us not to do so again; in a sense, they are both ego and  alter ego, invariably vying for our attention, not least with the rhetoric of persuasion.  
.
AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A  MASTER BUILDER

You’ll find me in no history book,

yet I haunt its pages

among other lively ghosts

left pulling any strings

available in their assured capacity

as a role model figure

of authority, the least likely

to be challenged but by the politics

of ambition and its semantics

I am rarely seen compensating

for any damage done

given that my  preferred brief

has nearly always been

to take the path of least resistance

for just as long as I can

until the next player, poised

to take me over lock, stock and barrel,

ceases to scheme, gets real

I play mind games with humanity

in a contemporaneity

hell bent on putting its house

in order to specifications

as put forward by one of our own,

encouraged and backed

by various related personae

suggesting he or she has to be the best,

for the Here-and-Now at least

I am that bitter-sweet rhetoric of ego
behind every socio-political hero

Copyright R.N. Taber 2020

Resolution OR Addressing Mind-Body-Spirit

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

Here we go again in 2019. Some of us will have made New Year resolutions which most of us will either fail to keep or forget we made them anyway, which is why I never make any.

All of us, though, can and must do our bit to make the world a kinder, happier, more peaceful place, and it doesn’t require any New Year resolution because it comes naturally to us, and if it doesn’t, it damn well should. True, whatever one person says or does may not, in the grand scheme of things, make much difference, but like a stone thrown into a pond, it will make ripples, and as we watch those ripples spread let’s imagine thousands of pebbles thrown into thousands of ponds all over the world … for that’s where hope has a head start over despair. Nor does any religion have a monopoly on spirituality; the human spirit is bigger than that, accessible to anyone who seeks within themselves for the better side of human nature and is willing to play their part in whatever they may find there.

RESOLUTION or ADDRESSING MIND-BODY-SPIRIT

I can but do my best

in the worst of circumstances

created by a society

whose betters presume

to lead the way,

expecting the rest of us

to follow blindly, nettles

beyond grasp for a preoccupation

with straws

I struggle to do more

in the lesser of circumstances

created by a mindset

nurtured from first cradle

to final grave

by those ever anxious

to catch us out

with home truths incompatible

with their own

I will fight for you,

whenever, wherever circumstances,

threaten your space,

infiltrating mind-body-spirit

with a view

to exposing the flaws

in that sense of freedom

inexplicably giving us the edge

over closed minds

I am an affinity for humanity in you,

seasons of the heart running true

Copyright R N. Taber 2018

Christmas, Glossing Over Missed Opportunities

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

At this time of year, people often tell me they are so looking forward to Christmas because they see it as a reason for celebration and renewal, usually more in a temporal than religious sense, as if Christmas will make everything bad in their lives so much better, keeping up the momentum until New Year, and then…?

Too often, the bubble of make-believe is burst soon enough as January arrives with all the indifference to human potential of a Grim Reaper.

We may not be altogether masters of our own fate, but life is what we make it. Mind and body may well be subject to external influences, sometimes of the worst kind, but the human spirit is better than that, and deserves to be given its head. The inner self knows us better than we think we know ourselves, and more of us need to listen rather than turn a deaf ear in favour of false (if attractive) promises the world often makes but has no intention of keeping.

Christmas, like all religious festivals is too often seen as signposting a sanctuary or at least some respite or escape from the harsher elements of life threatening to overwhelm us. Rarely, in my experience, will religion remove the threat for long; we need to build on the spirit and spirituality of peace and love (religion may have its share of both, but no monopoly), not be afraid to ask for help, and make a better life for ourselves on terms we will not flinch from meeting, no matter whether they are unacceptable to those who think they know us better than we know ourselves.

CHRISTMAS, GLOSSING OVER MISSED OPPORTUNITIES

Rain soaking the shirt, jeans;

body responding freely

to Earth Mother’s call to live,

let live, and get real

Face upturned, glad to be out

getting wet, mind distracted;

domestic crises, work targets

and assessments wreaking

havoc (with the best intentions)

stifling that very inspiration

meant to persuade, encourage,

leaves us feeling like flies

feeding on garbage left out

for the bin men, fodder for stray

cats, dogs, homeless folks, waiting

for Christmas

Oh, we may have a job, home,

mortgage etcetera - but a life

to call our own…?

Some may beg to differ, thinking

through yet another staff rota

at supper or marking homework

once guests (finally) gone home

to snug beds, 1001 nights and more

besides of cramming heads,

misting-up eyes, asking questions,

stirring up more lies and half lies

meant to persuade, encourage, only

to leave us feeling like flies

on garbage left for the bin men

to dispose

Christmas comes, Christmas goes;

it’s the inner self knows best

how to make the most of a potential

too precious to waste

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2018

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Waiting for Christmas' in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time, Assembly Books, 2005; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

Apprentice OR Honing Potential

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

Sometimes people tell me they have no flair for creativity. It isn’t true.  Maybe they cannot pen or paint to paper or compose a symphony or turn a lump of clay into masterpiece of ceramics...

Ah, but we create images even as we speak in any language, including sign language of course, and those images are received, interpreted and taken to heart.

Yes we all say and do things differently, but that is not only part of the charm of the human race, but also its natural flair for creativity. 

True, some people are more creative than others, but never let anyone tell you that you have no sense of creativity.

We are all apprentices to life and learning in different ways and with varying degrees of success that make us who we are - individuals.

This poem is a kenning.

APPRENTICE or HONING POTENTIAL

I am as clay

that can be shaped however

the potter chooses

and have little say in the matter

but must follow

where caring, firm hands lead

(in my best interests?)

while subtler firing needs

left unfulfilled

I am as steel,

shaped only with some difficulty

for another’s ends

yet the welder who knows how

to bend me to his will

does not hesitate to demonstrate

his skill if only to satisfy

an audience of but one person

in his sights

I am as poetry

that can be shaped however

the reader chooses,

led by the hand through a maze

of thoughts and feelings,

caring hands suggesting this way

or that, leaving us to make

our own fate nor judged for how

we turn out

Call me Individuality, first choice 

Apprentice to Humanity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012, 2019

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]