The Busker OR Music, Spirit of Life

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

When people ask me what kind of music I like, I usually reply that if it is good of its kind, I will almost certainly enjoy it. Many people hate that answer, but it is true. Pop, Classical, Country and Western, Blues, Gospel, whatever...if it is good of its kind, it will have a quality able to reach and move the human heart if only the human heart will let it. In the natural world, the same can, of course, be said for birdsong, various animal sounds, wind in trees, waves lapping (or lashing) at a shoreline...

Now, I well recall an evening some years ago when I was on my way home after a particularly BAD day at work. The thought of returning to my lonely, empty flat was killing me. For no particular reason, I took a different route which meant taking in a subway where a busker was playing. I passed, paused, and stopped to listen to a lively mixture of jazz and other shades of popular music. It talked to me, the music. More than that, it told me a good few home truths like feeling sorry for myself would get me nowhere fast and being lonely was nobody’s fault but my own. I had to go to the world as it sure as hell wasn’t going to come to me.

The busker finished playing and I asked the name of the piece which turned out to be something he’d only recently composed himself, and called it ‘Hello, world, I’m Here, Where Are You?’  I gave him all the loose change I had and headed straight for my local pub where I had a meal, got chatting to people (some of whom would become good friends) and felt all the better for saying, yes, you’ve guessed…‘Hello, world, I’m here…’

What happened to the busker? I have no idea. Over the years, I’ve watched out for him on TV and listened out for that piece of music on the radio, but in vain.

Oh, but one way or another, the world, thank goodness, has always had and always will have...music.

THE BUSKER or MUSIC, SPIRIT of LIFE

Busker, making music,

all kinds of music;

without music, we might

as well be dead

Body rhythms, vibrations,

they all make music

even deaf people can hear

for everyone to share;

if a ‘sound’ means nothing

it has to mean something,

making mind, body and spirit

equal to the occasion

aware something’s out there

keeping us happy, sad,

fulfilled… as only music can

Busker, making music,

all kinds of music,

drowning out war cries,

making peace instead

It’s a happy heart that sings,

a heavy one that cries;

joy and tears are universal

to one and all;

where ‘song’ means nothing,

it has to mean something

making body, heart, and spirit

equal to the occasion

aware something’s out there

keeping us happy, sad,

fulfilled…as only music can

Busker, needing music

like we all need music,

all kinds of music turning

stress on its head

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008; 2015

A Shared Antipathy For Beer Can Rings OR Marine Life Under Threat

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

Regular readers will know I have always loved Brighton (East Sussex) and been a regular visitor there for more than fifty years. I often go there on my birthday even though it is in December; I started writing this poem there on my 63rd birthday and finished it on the train back to London.

Several readers have kindly contacted me to say how much they enjoyed the poems I read in Brighton for YouTube last December.

[Find these and others at: http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber ]

Thanks for that, folks. Encouraging feedback is always gratefully received, especially as I find reading outdoors quite hard since there are always so many distractions.

I included today’s poem in my latest poetry collection. Regular readers will also know that all my poetry titles are listed on amazon.co.uk (with some readers’ reviews) if anyone is interested. They can be ordered at any UK bookstore. Alternatively, (signed) copies of most of my collections are available (now FREE + Postage) to overseas readers as my collections are only on sale in the UK. [Contact: rogertab@aol.com with ‘Blog Reader’ in the subject field.]

My poetry books contain a mixture of gay-interest and other poems, divided into themed sections for easy reading; there are about 20 – 25 poems per section so readers can just pick one and then try another section another time. [I should say that my critics complain I crowd my books with too many poems. I take their point, but readers seem to enjoy having six or seven little poetry books in one. So I think I’ll stick with my readers rather than pander to the critics for my next collection in 2012.]

On the whole, Brighton beach is kept remarkably clean and tidy; all the more remarkable for the way some people simply toss their litter away where they stand (on the beach or even in the sea; both present a danger to wildlife) rather than find a waste bin.

This poem is a villanelle.

A SHARED ANTIPATHY FOR BEER CAN RINGS or MARINE LIFE UNDER THREAT

We kept the most curious company,
watching waves clear beer cans rings away;
clouds, a crab, two seagulls and me

A spring twilight glowing beautifully,
footprints unable though longing to stay;
we kept the most curious company

I wondered, what do they think of me?
Could we converse, whatever would we say,
clouds, a crab, two seagulls and me?

Clouds, lamenting pollution, I dare say,
crab and gulls much the same of the sea;
we kept the most curious company

On one thing we’d be sure to agree,
the world doesn’t see things nature’s way;
clouds, a crab, two seagulls and me

A sudden rush of waves hit me angrily,
a smoky dusk making a meal of us per se;
we kept the most curious company;
clouds, a crab, two seagulls and me

[Brighton, East Sussex (UK), May 2008]

[From: On The Battlefields Of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

PS The use of 'per se' in the 6th stanza is yet another example of the liberties I often take with 'hidden' rhyme; i.e. sounds that are similar but not an exact rhyming match.