Teller of Tales, Second to None

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

What I wouldn’t give to be a fly on the wall in the Corridors of Power, just about anywhere in the world! 

There is a saying, ‘Truth will out’ and it invariably will, if only in bits and pieces for us to make of them what we will, our own bias making no less a contribution to our interpretation of those same bits and pieces as whatever personal agenda various sources releasing them may be following. 

As England prepares to enter a second lockdown on Thursday, the local gossips are having as much a field day as party politicians. As ever, I can’t help recalling what my mother used to say of national politics and local gossip alike, “Never rely on one source, and always try to keep an open mind.”

This poem is a kenning.

TELLER OF TALES, SECOND TO NONE 

I mingle with the rich and famous
every day, but am rarely in the public eye
although you may glimpse me
on the telly now and then helping to set
the scene for an interview,
a silent witness never anything to say there
and then, although the chances are
you’ll hear more from me, and openly,
no anonymity 

Politicians have always had my ear,
along with icons of sport and other masters
of their art, whether he or she
be a movie star or small screen celebrity,
writer of novels, poems, recipes
to try at home or travel tales sure to tempt
even a diehard stay-at-home
to roam beyond house and garden, by courtesy
of imagination 

I rub shoulders with kings and queens,
help lift the lid on various world intrigues
(if better late than never);
I can travel past, present and future as easily
as hailing a cab, catching a bus,
free to fly air corridors, saol oceans wide,
summon emotions good and bad,
play such games with the human psyche anyone
engaging with me 

No more sworn to secrecy than bound by time
or place, your everyday bookcase

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mind Games OR Something about Ghosts and Goldfish

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

Apart from adding the occasional new poem, I may well cease blogging - after an enjoyable ten years - once there is no alternative to using the new blogger format.While I have no idea how long my poetry will be accessible here, once I cease to contribute on a regular basis, any readers who enjoy my work may be interested to know I am in the process of creating revised editions of my previous print collections, but in e-format. I am working on an eighth collection at the moment of which I plan to self-publish a limited number of editions in print form, and later reproduce in e-format.

Although a significant number of readers from 70+ different countries visit my poetry blogs on a regular basis, little interest has been shown by print publishers for poetry collections that include gay-interest and general poems; but that is who I am, no less a mixed bag of sense and sensibility than anyone else.

Once print copies of my latest collection are available (hopefully, within a few months) I will let you know, and anyone interested can purchase direct at a very fair price; the same will apply to any subsequent e-editions of my collection titles.

Meanwhile …

Most if not all of us have regrets of one kind or another at just about every stage in our lives. The trick is never to believe it is too late to do something we wished we had done but couldn’t, wouldn’t or simply didn’t for whatever reason. We cannot turn back the tide of subsequent events, of course, but more often than not we can put our minds at rest to some extent rather than keep fretting our lives away…

Worse, perhaps, is regretting something we did simply because we wanted to do it, but the consequences were not as we may have hoped. Even so, better to have given it a go than spend a lifetime wondering how things might have turned out if only…

Yes, there will be some who feel inclined to observe, even judge us, but judge us according to criteria of their own, rarely if ever ours. We may well care what they think, but they might as well observe a goldfish for all it really matters. [Does it matter to a goldfish what we think of them, I wonder? Who knows…? If not, as I suspect, maybe there is some cause for envy there after all…] Whatever, let's be self-confident not self-conscious, yes? YES.

I once asked a tramp why he lived rough. ‘Because I like it’, he said, ‘and sleeping under the stars gives me a good feeling, so it does.’ ‘What about when it’s pouring with rain and freezing cold?’ I wanted to know. He shrugged. “We all of us have to take the rough with the smooth, so we do. Besides, the stars aren’t going anywhere are they...?’

MIND GAMES or SOMETHING ABOUT GHOSTS AND GOLDFISH ...

Can’t hear for ghosts,

banging at the door, damp stains

on walls, bars

across a window taunting us

with wannabe personae

wanting to know why we never

made the grade

Sweating like sick kids

on a sunny spring day who’s ma

won’t let us out to play,

always looking for new ways

to get by, but weary

of puzzles, can’t help but envy

the goldfish

Dreams like broken hearts

falling apart, people pretending

not to notice for fear

of ‘getting involved’ since

(after all) if the Bogeyman

can't be blamed for everything

then who…?

Puppets jerking to order,

except for a street guitar player

making little sense

of a world losing its dignity,

too busy scoring points

against other locals to give music

its due

Goldfish on the sideboard

giving me the eye as if curious

to know why I much prefer

making assumptions to knowing

what's what, such as

whether or not goldfish are happy

with their lot

Ghosts, yelling at the door,

nothing to say I haven't heard

so many times before,

and chose to turn a half-deaf ear;

(shrugs) for all the good

it would have done to let them in

and get cosy

Anaesthetized by blame

is all we cellmates are good for,

deserving everything

we get, prisoners of conscience

locked in drab cells

of petty regret for a lifetime spent

envying goldfish

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2015

[Note: Revised (2015) from an earlier version entitled ‘Inside’ that appears in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Some Days Smack Of Burning Rubber

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

[Update 9/6/17: After weeks of heated campaigning and debate, the UK has a hung Parliament, the worst possible result for everyone because now the Brexit path ahead is unclear and uncertain. No one likes uncertainty, least of all the financial markets. I have to confess, I am very disappointed with the result. At heart, I am no Conservative, but I voted for and hoped for a Tory majority simply because I believe passionately in Brexit. However, I also believe passionately in democracy. Britain is divided, many people uncertain about what they want or expect in the immediate years ahead, No political figure here appears to command the level of universal trust, respect and loyalty that a Prime Minister (or any leader) needs and deserves. Brexit or no Brexit, though, we can - as always in the political arena - but hope for the best, and get on with or daily lives.] RT

We all have them from time to time...

So when was your last really, really BAD day?

SOME DAYS SMACK OF BURNING RUBBER

Shadows like ghosts burning rubber on the highway

come dead of night

One mischief-making ghost gets to play at navigator

for old times sake

Driver takes a shortcut across a field of bad dreams

sprouting like four-leaf clover

Ghosts like shadows ready to drive a hard bargain

with the living for their favours

Driver on a Big Wheel screaming for the fun of a fair

under an acid rain of spreadsheets

Driver on a shrinking wheel, Gulliver lost in Lilliput

without a map

Highway coursing the driver’s veins as sure as boards

turning an actor inside out

Driver’s eyes opening. Wheel of Life resumes a pace

unworthy of a ghost

Home stretch, final act, driver’s waking up to a kinder

endgame than limbo…?

Shadows like ghosts burning rubber on the highway

come dead of night

  

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

[Note: this poem is one of 100+ that will appear in my new collection Tracking the Torchbearer due for publication by late February/early April; like my previous collections, it will be divided into (7) themed sections for easy reading.]