Utøya, Paradise Profaned

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

Albeit necessarily selectively, I try to keep a record in my poems relating to events of particular significance and/or tragedy (as well as celebratory events) worldwide. On July 22nd 2011, there was a bomb blast in Oslo, Norway, and related massacre of nearly 70 young people at a summer camp on the nearby island of Utoeya by a lone gunman. Sometime afterwards, a reader contacted me and asked me to repeat the poem - a villanelle - that I had written.

The reader says, ‘When a loved one dies, every day is an anniversary of happy times that will never come again. The world, too, needs to remember…’ The reader asks, 'How can we move on when every day brings as many tears as the day before...? I have no answer for that. I only know, from my own experience, that moving on does not mean leaving anyone behind. Do we not owe it to loved ones we have lost to live our lives to the full, as much for them as for ourselves?

Sadly, remembering does not always mean the likes of such tragedies will not strike again… just about anywhere around the world in these troubled times. All the more reason, surely, to make the most of our life and be sure to make time for those happy memories that may yet help see us through its darker moments? No two words in the English language cause more pain than, 'if only...'

Bergen architects 3RW's intervention, The Clearing, was created as a memorial for the events that took place on 22 July 2011. Gunman Anders Breivik opened fire on members of the Workers' Youth League (AUF) camping on the island, after detonating a bomb outside a government building in nearby Oslo, which killed a further eight people.

The Clearing memorial (Photo from the Internet)

UTOYA, PARADISE PROFANED

Stark images of death and terror
(alien to any aspiring paradise)
stalked young people on Utoya

A dream blasted into nightmare
in any decent person’s eyes;
stark images of death and terror

Poison masquerading as a flower
(reason warped by prejudices)
stalked young people on Utoya

Grief, disillusion and fear torture
all victims of world injustices;
stark images of death and terror

Be it son, daughter, sister, brother,
a sick inclination to terrorise
stalked young people on Utoya

Long may a humanist ethos endure
in Norway and all democracies;
stark images of death and terror
stalked young people on Utoya

[London: July 23rd 2011]

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

[Note: I included this poem in my collection, Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012; rev. ed in e-format in preparation.]

Where the Keyword is Imagine

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

Today’s poem was written as a tribute to musician John Lennon, shot dead outside his New York City apartment block by Mark David Chapman on Dec 8th 1980.

"Imagine"  was written and performed by Lennon. The best-selling single of his solo career, its lyrical statement is one of collectivist positivism. It challenges the listener to imagine a world at peace, without the divisiveness and barriers of religious denominations and nationalities, and to consider the possibility that the focus of humanity should be living a life less attached to material possessions.

Lennon’s wife, Yoko Ono scattered his ashes in New York's Central Park, where the Strawberry Fields memorial was later created

Photo: John Lennon Memorial

WHERE THE KEYWORD IS IMAGINE

The gospel of John Lennon

sees a testing time for dreams,

inspires the imagination

Politics needs urgent revision

to silence starvation’s screams;

the gospel of John Lennon

No mythicizing hell or heaven;

it’s repairing life’s frayed seams

inspires the imagination

No (one-upmanship) religion;

trusting that love all hate redeems;

the gospel of John Lennon

Where any cultural division,

mutual respect tempering extremes,

inspires the imagination

In a song for every season,

ideals as pure as mountain streams;

the gospel of John Lennon

inspires the imagination

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

[Note: First Published in 'In Other Words, Forward press, 2012]

Death of a Princess

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

On August 31^st 1997, Diana, Princess of Wales was tragically killed when a car carrying herself and Dodi Fayed crashed in Paris. 

Many readers who appear to have difficulty accessing You Tube directly for one reason or another have asked me to repeat the link to a my friend Graham's video of the memorial in Hyde Park along with two  poems I read over it:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=t_iX3LzGK4k

Meanwhile, here is a new poem written in memory of a remarkable woman; a devoted mother whose beauty, charm, and capacity for compassion won hearts and minds wherever she went; traits she has clearly passed on to her children.

She wasn’t without flaws, you might say, so tell me then...who isn't?

DEATH OF A PRINCESS 

Brought to its knees

the day she died, the world

asked questions,

demanded answers,  cried

itself to sleep

Media loved to play

the blame game, but no one

(quite) convinced

by speculation compromising

its integrity

Crowds played out

the performance of a lifetime

at the palace gates

while its key players left

them to it

Hysteria over a flag

left flying high and crying out

for half-mast

lent tunnel vision an air

of plausibility

Elsewhere, a family

resolved to protect its own

devising new ways

of doing the walk and talking

the talk

Diana, on an island

of dreams, inviting royalty

and ordinary people

to rise above tears like petals

between showers

Brought to its knees

the day she died, the world

still asks questions,

demands answers,  cries

itself to sleep

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

7/7 Remembered (Two poems)

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

Update [March 26 2016] There have been other terrorist atrocities around the world since I posted this poem and our thoughts including close to home in France and Belgium. Our thoughts have to be with the dead and injured, their families and friends. Inevitably, though, our we cannot help but wonder, where next? Wonder, yes, it is only natural, but we cannot let ourselves brood on the question or let it dominate our thoughts, dictate how we get on with our lives.  If terrorism exploits the very worst of human nature, the human condition itself is better and stronger than that which is why the love, peace and goodness in this world - and we only have to look around to see there is more of it than the media often suggest - will always triumph over any hate, wars and predilection for sheer evil.]

Today marks the anniversary of  London terrorist bombings in July 2005. My close friend (and cameraman) Graham and I were asked some time ago if we would film the 7/7 memorial in Hyde Park especially for a friend of someone who died in the terrorist attacks in London on July 7^th 2005. He lives and works abroad and has been unable to visit the memorial. He has also read the poems and asked me to read them.  Yesterday, I uploaded our efforts to You Tube. Hopefully, no one will find either poems or video intrusive:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBo01eRFB

Yes, anniversaries have an important place in the public consciousness. Yet, for anyone caught up in the events of that awful day and/or directly affected by its terrible consequences, every day that passes is a day of remembrance. Our thoughts should be with them as well the fifty-two people for whom the memorial was created.

We can but try to move on whenever tragedy strikes, although moving on doesn't (ever) mean we leave anyone behind.

REMAINS OF THE DAY

Memory, smoke and screams

that left fifty-two fine people dead,

forever haunting our dreams

Innocence ripped at the seams,

where terrorism rears its ugly head;

Memory, smoke and screams

Despair takes all or so its seems

where hope on its heels often misled,

forever haunting our dreams

Where light but faintly gleams

that tracks the everyday hero’s tread;

Memory, smoke and screams

See inhumanity’s dark schemes

leave its enemies free if badly scarred,

forever haunting our dreams

Faith’s dark side, no love redeems,

its Heaven, even to its martyrs barred;

Memory, smoke and screams,

forever haunting our dreams

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

YEARS ON

Let us all remember, years on,

all those cruelly snatched away

one summer's day in London

Come life's battles lost and won 

no terror shall (ever) win the day;

let us all remember, years on

A mother, father, daughter, son,

calling on Memory its part to play

one summer's day in London

Wherever terror's rage has gone

humanity, too, will ever have a say;

let us all remember, years on

If terror, it would target everyone,
for love alone did Earth Mother pray

one summer's day in London

Love, if sorely tried and put upon,

will always find a way, beside us stay;

let us all remember, years on,

one summer's day in London

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007, 2019

[Note: an earlier version of this poem appears in Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; consequently, it is not the version that accompanies the video.]

Saluting Bomber Command

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

[Update Feb 22nd 2019]: The US bomber - a B-17 Flying Fortress known as Mi Amigo - came down in Endcliffe Park in Sheffield on 22 February 1944, killing everyone on board.

Thousands of people gathered in the park this morning to pay tribute to the fallen US airmen with the flypast due at 8.45am.

It is believed the U.S. Mi Amigo crew from the 305th Bomb Group crashed into woods to avoid a group of boys who were playing as their flying fortress plummeted to earth:

U. S. Bomber air crew (Photo from the Internet]

One of them Tony Foulds, 82, was eight years old when he saw the plane crash; it is he who has attended the crew’s memorial for years and organised today’s fly past.]

[Update May 16th 2018]: On the night of 16-17 May 1943, the RAF's 617 Squadron carried out an audacious bombing raid attacking dams serving the Ruhr valley, leaving German factories and mines badly damaged. ]

This poem is a villanelle that I wrote to mark the occasion and will include in a final collection - Diary of a Time Traveller - scheduled for publication in 2015 (when I will be 70).

SALUTING BOMBER COMMAND

Where Bomber Command once flying

the gamut of heavens and hell;

so many young men, so few returning

Among birds of prey, resolutely diving

a ghastly, deadly, smoky swell

where Bomber Command once flying

For many, no glorious homecoming

nor a single passing bell;

so many young men, so few returning

No glory, only necessity in the bombing

and a faith that peace will prevail

where Bomber Command once flying

Haunting the brave veterans surviving,

a face for every bomb that fell;

so many young men, so few returning

Our thanks, far too long in the waiting,

its last crew, a fitting memorial;

where Bomber Command once flying,

so many young men, so few returning

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

A Lancaster bomber dropped 82,000 poppies over London to remember those who died.