As Time Goes By OR Love, a (Personal) History

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

Time passes; we change, grow older, yet a loved one’s image remains much the same, ageless and timeless in our eyes … 

If we take an hourglass as a metaphor for life, time passing should never be thought of as its  gradually emptying but as its constantly in need of topping up ... with all the emotional resources available to us, especially love.

This poem is a villanelle.

AS TIME GOES BY

Brown hair, shades of grey,
whatever path I pursue;
time, ever slipping away…

Fun childhood days at play,
youth’s wild ways too;
brown hair, shades of grey

“Let’s laugh, not cry!” I say
(some wishes come true)
time, ever slipping away…

For every weepy Blues day,
golden moments too;
brown hair, shades of grey

Late, love, it came my way,
gave my heart to you;
time, ever slipping away…

Forever, love vowed to stay,
life’s tangled strands undo;
brown hair, shades of grey,
time, ever slipping away…

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2014

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Chameleon

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

Some readers may be interested to know that I have posted Chapter 1 of a new serial, Catching Up with Murder on my fiction blog. 

Hopefully, readers who enjoyed Predisposed to Murder will also enjoy meeting up with many of the same characters and discovering how they first came together.

Catching Up with Murder is available in paperback from amazon and could well be described as a black comedy in parts; it is not a gay novel as such, but has a strong gay storyline that becomes clear and takes off in Act II:

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/catching-up-with-murder-chapter-1.html

Meanwhile…

It has always struck me how curious it is that some words used to describe human nature can mean different things to different people in exactly the same circumstances.  Not surprising, though, since everyone's take on life (and people) is different depending on how various socio-cultural-religious, age, economic and political factors conspire to directly affect our personal lives, and therefore our opinions. (Whatever, we need to be wary of rushing to judgement and/or being fooled by a sweeping take on stereotypes; there is much to be said for 'judge not lest ye be judged.')

This poem is (another) kenning or 'Who-am-I?' poem.

CHAMELEON 

I'm not always where I should be

and there are times you will find me

wearing the face of human cruelty,

lashing out at anyone who dares

stand in my way, stamping on them

as if they were but vermin, ready

to excuse, even glorify any choices

I make to mask feelings of inferiority
(indeed, the more fool, me.)

Rarely assuming parts conventions 

would have me play in the world 

or in such corners of the human heart

open to anyone to view who cares

to curry favour with me if only to be

rewarded in turn, with such gestures 
of rank or position as best serve 

anyone at listening in, hoping to learn

how not to be duped again

I'm not always a villain of the piece,

now and then accepting applause, 

with due modesty, ever taking credit 
for acting beyond any call of duty,

such as openly acknowledging 
my sexuality or services to humanity 
as nature intended me to provide, 
rejecting a darker side that I confess
lurks just below my surface

Call me chameleon, for good or bad,

walking tall, running scared

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010, 2019

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010. a later version that appeared on the blog in 2013 has since been revised again.] RT