Mind-Body-Spirit, Champing at the Bit

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

Today's poem last appeared on the blog in 2017, and I have since changed the title. 

Several readers have asked how I am progressing with the new poetry collection and if I have found a potential publisher. Well, progress is slow but sure, and I haven't given much thought to finding a publisher as I will probably self-publish again. As I have said before on the blogs, the majority of publishers here in the UK have never shown any interest in my previous collections; indeed, it would seem that poetry publishers in general are inclined to shy away from a volume that includes both general and gay-interest poems. I am toying the the idea of only making it available as an e-book, but may have just a few hundred copies printed as they have always sold. As always, time will tell if and how opportunity knocks. wry bardic chuckle

Meanwhile...

Provoked by a classmate, I fought with him in the school playground some 60+ years ago. We were both given detention, and I missed a favourite TV programme as well as having to explain to my mother why I was late home. I protested that it wasn’t my fault, to which she replied, ‘It’s never anyone’s fault, dear, which is why no one gets anywhere fast because everyone is too busy blaming someone else to actually get to the bottom of things.’ This meant nothing to me at the time, of course, but continues to resonate with me, making sense of  the kind that has taken me the better part of a lifetime to grow into …

Various religions/cultures all offer us their own agendas for raison d'etre, but I suspect it is the human spirit that will find its own way n its own time ... and come to what conclusion, I wonder?

If ever a common mind-body-spirit was ever champing at the bit, I dare say rarely if ever more so than now as the world waits to see if the Covid-19 coronavirus can be beaten once and for all ... or whether a second wave and/ or strain is inevitable, and we will all  have to learn to live with its consequences one way or another. 

For the most part, yours truly remains optimistic that a reasonable balance can be struck between the sound and the fury of a common humanity that doesn't quite grasp what it's all about, but hasn't quite given up on certain priorities either; among the latter, find love, peace, respect for and pride in its diversity... and, yes, last but not least, plain common sense.

‘Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury

Signifying nothing...’ – Shakespeare (Macbeth) 

MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, CHAMPING AT THE BIT  

Childhood, waving me on
to such better days
as grown-ups taking notice
of what I might think,
even (openly) concede we
should agree to differ 

Teenage years greeting me
with false promises,
aspirations soon warned off
by self-styled ‘betters’
for overreaching potential,
(mere pipe dreams?) 

Paid work, not so different 
from schooldays;
angst about promotion, if only
to impress those peers
yearning a greater freedom
of personal space 

Retirement, welcoming me
with a cheery wave,
promising leisure times filled
with fun and laughter, 
less stress, more time to spend
with family, friends… 

Old age, having the last laugh
on us, harvesting
home truths, yet finding us
no less sinned against
than sinning, if only for playing 
our part by default

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017; 2020 

[Note: a slightly but significantly different version of this poem appeared on the blog in 2017 under the title ‘A Personal History’] RNT