Placing the 'I' in Perception

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

Congratulations to all those participating in The Olympics. Only a fool would deny that it isn’t about winning and losing, just as only a fool would dare suggest it’s all about winning and losing; it’s the taking part that really counts, just being there. 

Much the same might well be said of life; it’s the being here that counts and giving it our best shot in whatever ways we can. So, some of us may fall short of the proverbial mark, so what mark might that be and who’s to say who put it there? Everyone will have an opinion, of course, and a world turning on opinions is healthy enough... until those opinions proceed to sow seeds of discontent, even aggression, doing more harm than good. 

As I have asked on the blogs time and again, whatever happened to agreeing to differ?.

PARENT to CHILD: Why does it always have to be why this and why that with you? Why can't you just do as you're told?

CHILD (shrugs) Because...

PLACING THE ‘I’ IN PERCEPTION 

I have winged the world
by day and night, let its beating heart
move us, now to such tears
of pain as embracing life forces can bring,
now for such years of joy
as teach the heart to sing in finest hours
of a personal space left free
to follow mind-body-spirit whenever inspired
by soulful prose and poetry 

I have sailed angry seas,
skimming waves incited to wreak havoc
among such creatures
great and small as dwell below, swim above,
or simply seek to cool
the heat of such everyday anxiety as likely
to attack humanity
at its every twist and turn as it seeks to do or die
in its quest to answer – why? 

By what human right do we
outlaw and deplore what we cannot share,
for wont of persuasion
or inclination of mind-body-spirit to enter into
for reasons sound and true,
while bringing the full force of judgement
on any who refuse to comply
with aspects of human behaviour most favoured by
this community, that society? 

Why do religions persist
with agendas that deny human beings a right
to embrace as free a spirit
as gave us birth, let us bond with Earth’s
seas and skies, trees and flowers,
birds and beasts, encouraging such inner sight
as can penetrate surfaces
considered plain, even ugly, for left running scared
of all its formative years foretold? 

Life is life, death is death,
such is the way of all creatures great and small,
though human perceptions vary;
similarly, love is love in whatever shape or form,
nor ours to condemn
for its appealing neither to religious dogma
nor personal agenda,
but deserving thanks for sharing such fine showpieces
as wing eternal in its You-Me-Us 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

The Times, they are A-Changing

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

It was January 1964. I had just left school, still living at home and contemplating my future the first time I heard Bob Dylan singing The Times, They Are A-Changin’ on the family radiogram in the comfort of an armchair. 

A violent storm was raging outside. 

Maybe it was the poet in me that started me thinking along much the same lines as I do now, 50+ years later, that nature and humanity are at risk... not least from each other?

THE TIMES, THEY ARE A-CHANGING

Sun glaring down
with the ferocity of a Greek god
at humankind’s
insistence upon pitting itself
against nature
in the name of progress,
any capital gains notwithstanding,
climate change but an incidental factor
in a universal picture? 

Forest fires, freak floods,
forcing whole families to take flight,
come day or night,
since nature has little respect
for those in denial
of meaning it harm by providing
greater elbow room 
as and when the need, any justification
met with regeneration                                          

Does the natural world
not deserve better that such Reserves
and Zoos as humankind
feels inclined to allow, if only to teach
its past and present
to students of world order, its future
looking as bleak
as theirs, its own life forces whittled down
by matters human? 

A worldwide pandemic,
regarded by many as beyond coincidence,
but Earth Mother’s way
of protesting at humanity’s inclination
to see wildlife as sport,
green spaces expendable wherever
developers see potential
in arguing for public as well as private gains,
so “Everyone wins...” 

Come a 21^st Century virus,
targeting the human race as indiscriminately
as it has seen fit
to target birds, beasts, fishes and habitats
in the name of self-preservation,
humanity deserving the greater share
for its sheer superiority
and monopoly on matters cognitive-spiritual
engaging with its soul? 

Who’s to say the natural world
is incompatible with a universal spirituality
when grief and loss
as well as celebration are plain to see
in species other than human?
Who’s to say, too,
that were humanity fail to survive
its own demands and prejudices, there would be
no new Dawn of History? 

Human mind-body-spirit, at risk for being in denial
of the natural world’s being part of its whole...

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

Some Doors Never (Quite) Close OR Young Love, Old Love

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

Overheard in a local store recently: 

1^st MAN:  She’s only seventeen, so how can she know her own mind? I tell you, the boy’s trouble. I’ve told her to stay away from him, but... 

2^nd MAN: Kids, eh? So much to learn and so much they just don’t want to know... 

(Both men move away.) 

Now, I have no idea of the actual context of this conversation, having only caught a snippet, but it was enough to remind me that not only LGBT folks are up against traditional ideas, one of these being that young people don’t know their own minds. True, they have a lot to learn, but how to learn if they are not encouraged to do so? 

The vast majority of parents only want that is best for their children. For many parents, though, their children never (quite) grow up and/ or may well follow a different learning curve to the one their parents have in mind for them. Whatever, mulling over this snippet of conversation resulted (for better, for worse) in a poem. 

SOME DOORS NEVER (QUITE) CLOSE or YOUNG LOVE, OLD LOVE

There’s a love song
been running around in my head
all day, today
and most days since last we met,
said our goodbyes,
promised to meet up again soon;
only, it wouldn’t happen;
life would deal us more cruel blows
before we’d meet again 

I hear it in the wind
as I lie in my bed at night, dreaming
of you, wondering
where and how you are, recalling
all the plans we made
for a future with neither sorrow
nor pain to haunt us,
but love alone to see us through all life
may send to taunt us 

They meant us well,
both family and friends who warned
we were not meant
to be together, no birds of a feather,
you and I, but chalk
and cheese who could not hope
to ever realise our dreams
of a world that would gladly see its lovers
rise above its divisions 

Time passed, the same
song in my heart urging me to overcome
society’s resistance
to the you-me-us of years when we
thought of ourselves
as free to be together, no matter
how great the pain
as may well take us to task for going against
its traditional grain 

Give it time, they had said,
and we’d see the wisdom of advice given,
but my love, it lived on
in mind-body-spirit until I resolved
to seek you out,
take a chance on the feelings we had
making such choices
as we’d have made then, but told “too young"
by older, wiser voices 

Decision made, interrupted
by a knock on my door I hesitate to answer
for fear of losing the thread
of mind-body-spirit’s engaging me
with such home truths
as I’d been advised to put aside by those
wanting better for us
than what they could not even begin to consider
for themselves 

It was in something of a daze I opened the door
to find you smiling there...

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

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

A Force to be Reckoned With

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

Today’s poem was written in much the same spirit as the one before for which I make no apologies.

As we grow older, our thoughts inevitable turn to mortality and what it means to us in an intensely personal way; sorrow for having to leave family and friends – at least in a physical sense – is only half the battle some of us wage within ourselves as we recall images arisen from threats and promises made during long-ago formative years that are rarely as easy to shrug off as we might wish.

Over the years, I have met gay men from all walks of life and religion; the latter imposing far more guilt and despair on them than they deserve for their rejecting certain aspects of dogma by which a defensive worldly agenda would exclude them from both faith and any sense of spirituality altogether.

While I mean what I say about respecting a person’s religious beliefs, I also mean what I say when I blame religion for so many of humanity’s divisions and flaws, including my own.

Recently, I got chatting with a  gay Catholic man, in his mid-70’s like myself, besieged with doubts and fears regarding a Heaven he never ceased to believe in, but spent the best part of a lifetime in a weepy closet, made to feel by family and peers that he had no right to believe in anything much, including himself.

At the risk of being reprimanded for repeating myself yet again, no religion has a monopoly on spirituality.

The human spirit will be guided as much by the body’s innate feeling for all things positive as the mind’s inclination to trust its own judgement. Together, all three are a force to be reckoned with as world religions are beginning to realise; the more LGBT+ folks who learn to have faith in themselves and each other, the less likely they can be made to feel denied or undeserving of either those aspects of religion with which they most identify or the sense of growing reassurance it brings that no one’s spiritual well-being is threatened by their sexuality alone.

Regular readers will know that, as a pantheist, I reject the kind of dogma perpetuated by most world religions. Many who, likewise, cannot relate to a personified God any more than I do, or the teachings found in Holy Books, may well think of themselves (openly or not) as atheist or agnostic. Whatever, the human spirit clearly does have a will of its own, is capable of generating a sense of spirituality among even the most irreligious of human beings, not least in our capacity for love, in all its shapes and forms; lose that and, yes, we may well be on the road to a living Hell of our own making...

A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH 

A young man stood weeping
at the Gates of Hell where he’d been told
told to wait by certain “betters”
among humankind until let in to join others
whom the Devil has taken
for his own, down to words said, deeds done,
no malice intended, but seen as sinning,
deserving the worst all God-fearing folks can imagine 
within the parameters of their religion 

An angel came out of nowhere,
asked the young man why he shed such tears,
and the young man replied
how it was the sum of all earthly fears to be there
at Death’s door, waiting to see
the flames of hellfire, be made to dive therein,
due punishment for such worldly sin
as being on love with another man, much the same as he 
for engaging with homosexuality 

“Love is love, whatever its nature,”
said the angel, hand to head in sorrow and pain,
“Nor was eternity intended
for such troubles as mortal minds are inclined
to inflict rather than agree to differ,
allow for such reality es as they cannot be a part,
its seeds sown and nurtured in the heart
by assorted mind-body-spirits, rejected by such religiosity
as imposes its own spirituality...” 

“Are you saying I might even qualify
for Heaven? the young man asked, barely daring
to entertain the thought,
yet inspired by the angel’s understanding smile
to hope for more from eternity
than either burning or being as alone as made to feel
for much of his time on Earth
as neither of Earth Mother or Father born,
but an outsider, a freak of humanity, if only in failing to see
religion's monopoly on eternity 

“We who are not of Earth are well aware
of all that goes on there, can see into a human heart,
the sum of all its many parts
as lending the individual any benefit of doubt,
sitting less in judgement
than in compassion, allowing for a sense of spirituality
as comprises a whole that some call ‘soul’
where others see a human spirit engaging purely and simply
with a feeling for what comes naturally 

The young man took the angel’s hand in his,
and flew realms of time and personal space he’d seen
only in dreams of a kinder world,
no one made to suffer for ways of life and thought
that some may well see differently,
but the human spirit deserves a place and say in a world
that, try as it might, cannot dictate
how a person should feel or believe in order to (ever) qualify
to go wherever angels have no fear to fly

Copyright R.N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Engaging with Conjecture

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

I recently met up with a close friend for lunch in a church garden; it was a lovely, sunny afternoon and we were joined by assorted avian friends (mostly pigeons) hoping for such crumbs as we duly obliged. 

While chatting away, we’d sometimes address the birds directly; some would even seem to understand, if only in our imagination. Maybe they did understand, if not the words we spoke, the tone in which we spoken them? Who really knows what goes on in the head of any live creature, including human beings? It can only be pure conjecture, surely?

 

I put this to a psychiatrist once. To my surprise, he agreed, adding that it was not his job to know what goes on in patient’s heads, but to help them to know and thereby help themselves. “I’m trained to read signs, not to be a mind-reader,” he pointed out, “Before anyone can begin to deal with problems affecting their behaviour, they have to get to the root cause, rather like having to lift an invisible curtain they don’t even realise is there.  It’s my job to point patients towards it and help them find the wherewithal to lift the damn thing. Even then, it’s only a first step...”

 

A naturalist acquaintance once commented along similar lines about conjecture. We were observing a tortoise in his garden. “How does it decide which way to go?” I wanted to know.

 

“Natural instinct,” he said with quiet conviction.

 

“So how does that work?” I persisted.

 

“No one really knows for sure,” he chuckled, “... but we can learn a lot by observation of live creatures and their remains. Even so, all species are different and within any species there will always be individual differences. At the end of the day, even what a specialist learns is only conjecture, but as close to knowing as anyone can get.” 

It was s too complex a conversation for me, though, and I changed the subject...

 

ENGAGING WITH CONJECTURE

 

In a church garden,

two gay men engaging with nature

and human nature  

in such ways as its hosts would

deny us for our being

beyond both their ken or remit,

according to such dogma

as they would share as a ‘God-given’

insight to Heaven

 

Beneath leafy art forms

portraying dream-like cameos

of cloud shapes

and sun nymphs peering down

with watery eyes,

we ate our lunches, two old friends,

tossing breadcrumbs

now and then to birdlife come to share

precious moments there

 

Pigeons, various markings

and colouring, engaging with us;

avian and human,

birds of a feather come together,

truce understood,

a spirit of such caring and sharing,

as even divided species agree

on nurturing, if the going’s looking good

for credit and reward

 

Nearby, a crow has business

of its own with discarded food waste

in open litter bins,

deftly removing sandwich wrappings

and other crumb-potential,

scattering them across public gardens

for passers-by to deplore

such ‘litter-louts’ as never spare a thought

for the environment

 

Observing, though, how much

nature and human nature have in common,

for worse as well as better,

who’s to judge any species of creature

great or small for being

as they are, or any within the human race

made to feel outsiders

by any form socio-cultural-religious dogma

now and forever?

 

Such are ways to which life forms

are born, better (surely) to trust than see them

forsworn under duress,

reason the need any heart may protest

at being put to a test

it doesn’t even recognise as fit for purpose,

any more than do two gay men

in a church garden, engaging with local nature

and human conjecture? 

 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021 

[Note: This poem-post also  appears on my gay-interest poetry blog today.] RNT

Getting the Better of Covid-19

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

It is looking increasingly unlikely that the world will be rid of Covid-19 and its variants any time soon, in spite of vaccines becoming available; no one seems to know just how effective certain vaccines will prove to be against this strain or that.

Be sure that mind-body-spirit will do its best to see us through whatever lies ahead. 

In the meantime, we can but give ourselves and each other the best chances of survival by following whatever restrictions intended to make us safe(er) rather than follow our more natural instinct to do our own thing… 

The world is more unsafe than it has been for centuries; subsequently humanity has a collective responsibility to show that it can work together and rise above its various socio-cultural-religious differences instead of using them as tools and/ or excuses, to make a bad situation worse. 

Fat chance of that, do I hear you say? Well, maybe… but where there’s life, there’s always hope; it has  always been hope, as well as love and kindness that not only keeps the happier heart beating, but also comprises the better part of who we are, the part that saves us from going into freefall. 

Take care, be safe and keep well, 

Hugs, 

Roger 

GETTING THE BETTER OF COVID-19

I love the sunny side
of the street, nodding and chatting
to people I meet,
if only simply passing the time
of day, give or take
little else to say likely to raise a smile
while a coronavirus
chases up our every move, left or right,
anywhere, by day or night 

Covid-19 also prefers
to haunt the sunny side of the street,
but I’ll not be fooled
into thinking there’s any safety
in the shade
beyond making sure I wear my mask
correctly, nose and mouth
covered completely, no fashion accessory,
but a social responsibility 

Safer to stay indoors
if we can, but there are key workers
on whom we rely
continue to take risks (do or die)
for all our sakes,
a selflessness putting any to shame
whose conspiracy theories
appeal to the (universally) significant few
left anxiously begging a clue 

Though all the world 
in pain and grieving, a Beacon of Hope
that is love will see us
through to whatever end in store,
whoever, wherever
we are, its truth making itself known
and felt in such ways
as sure to inspire us all our days, the nearer
for our sharing, and the dearer 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021