Hello again, from London UK

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

Hello again, from London UK

I thought you might be interested to know that, according to the stats on the home page from which I publish my poem-posts on blogspot.com, readership now stands at 203,004. So, a BIG thank you from yours truly for staying the course with me.

I did not think many people would be interested in my poetry when I first started writing up the blog    nearly 10 years ago, especially as feedback from poems I have published in UK magazines and elsewhere was not always in a positive vein. One reader went s far as to complain that “... I don’t see how you can write general and gay-interest poems of the socio-psychological kind you write and call it poetry...

Clearly that reader hasn’t read much poetry; all poetry attempts to convey a socio-psychological landscape as the poet sees it at any moment in time. As for my gay-interest poems, the title of the blog to which I publish them speaks for itself, surely? Some heterosexual readers have even browsed it from time to time; feedback suggests they have found it helpful in coming to a better (and kinder) understanding of LGBT family members, friends, peers and work colleagues. It is due to such encouragement that I have continued (and enjoyed) writing up all three blogs.

While it is true that my gay poetry blog lags behind this one, stats confirm close to 169,000 views, so I am well-pleased.

There are both gay and general novels on my fiction blog, whose stats are much lower, approaching around 22,000 views. I enjoyed writing my novels, but came to the conclusion that I am no novelist. I cannot deny I was disappointed to discover this about myself, and seeing pipe dreams of fame and fortune burst like playful soap bubbles.

As Robert Louis Stevenson suggested: "To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive." (Virginibus Puerisque,1881.) Besides, nothing, including fame and fortune, is ever quite how it is portrayed by various media which, in turn, brings to mind another old truism along the lines that none of us knows quite what goes on behind closed doors. The rich and famous are only human, after all, and life is no less likely to have its ups and downs for them as for the

Need to rest now. It is inly mid-morning here in the UK, but while growing old doesn't have to be a major issue in itself when like, yours truly, you are having to contend with various health issues as well, it is no picnic...😉 Even so, I continue to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life and urge you to do the same; never easy at any age, but the alternative is we spend our lives peering into The Abyss while life itself passes us by...

Bye for now, folks, and many thanks for dropping in. I am working on a new poem and hope to publish it here very soon.

Take care, keep safe and be sure to treat those who show they care for you with the love and respect they deserve,

Hugs,

Roger

Debating 'Political Correctness'

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

I am often criticised for my personal stand on some religions, notably Christianity and Islam; the former would find me guilty of blasphemy while the latter might well see me beheaded... and that’s just for being gay. I am growing old now, and health issues mean I am no longer sexually active, but mind-body-spirit remains essentially gay so I’m no less open to such charges from either religion.

Now, I am no racist, nor do I have a problem with people as such, from any walk of life. I do, however, have a problem with being judged according to the principles of a religion to which I do not subscribe.

I am not a Christian, so how can I be accused of blasphemy? Similarly, I am not a Muslim so how can I be accused of Islamophobia? Am I not allowed to express a legitimate point of view while meaning no personal offence?

A friend of some years - who hadn’t known when we first met as students that I am gay (I was suffocating in a closet in those days) - told me that he felt uncomfortable with gay people. When I asked if that that included me (he had known I was gay for some years by now) he answered in the affirmative. I was hurt, more than a little disappointed and puzzled, too, since he had never indicated any problem with my sexuality hitherto. Such is human nature, though, so I had to get used to the idea; it certainly never occurred to me to jump on any homophobic bandwagon.

Everyone is, of course, entitled to their own religious Beliefs. Should anyone, though, feel entitled to pass judgement on another person by dint of any agenda set by those same Beliefs, especially when that other person neither shares nor recognises the validity of certain aspects associated with those same Beliefs...?

In my opinion, any society giving the impression - intentionally or not - that certain feelings and Beliefs are above the law, are permissible simply because they wear the colours of this or that religion, risks dividing itself into such pieces as may well prove hard if not impossible to put together again.

DEBATING 'POLITICAL CORRECTNESS'

When asked a question
I will always offer an answer
as best I see fit,
just as mind-body-spirit
would have me do
unsure whether or not my questioner
genuinely cares
or hopes to press all the right buttons
likely to produce revelations

Such is the emotive power
of being put on the spot, needing
to be true to the self
while thought processes
put under pressure,
not least for being only too well aware
of being pounced on
by society’s rush-to-judgemental voices
at the first hint of any prejudices

Discussion, private or public
may well see us treading eggshells,
political correctness
all but turned on its head by some
with much to gain or lose
as the case may be, free expression
across debate in the frame
for agreeing to differ, but a distant memory
in a ‘politically correct’ society

What worth debate or argument,
points of view as need to be made
so often go unheard...
not because participants are afraid
of being challenged,
but of being shouted down, even arrested
for speaking out,
(no disrespect intended) on a growing anxiety
with a ‘politically correct’ society 

No one deserves to be denied a voice,
whatever their ethnicity, sexuality, creed
or culture, and a just society
will neither rush to judgement for fear
of offending any of the parts
that comprise its whole, yet, if harmony
is the key to its success,
any discordant voices, yes, require challenging,
but also, surely, deserve a fair hearing?

Powers that be committed to tackling
prejudice and abuses of privilege in all walks
of life, pick and choose
at their peril, leave themselves open
to all manner of criticism
and allegations of being browbeaten
by the very forces
they would challenge, wherever, even a religion,
fearing to alienate swathes of public opinion

Certain voices need to ask questions of any society;
no questions, no answers, only hypocrisy

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Anthem Played on a Grass Harp

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Some years ago, the children of friends of mine married without the blessing of their parents because both sets of parents disapproved of the match because is a lot older than her. Neither could accept their grown-up children’s choice of life partner. As it is, they have missed out on all the pleasures of being grandparents and seeing their grandchildren grow up.

Among all prejudices, ageism is often seen as the ‘poor relation’ but it can devastate lives as much and as needlessly as any other form of prejudice, whether it be based on the colour of a person’s skin, the nature of their sexuality or... whatever.

The couple in question had celebrated their silver wedding anniversary and were very happy until the younger partner died in a car accident. Only then did the families rally round and try to make peace “for the sake of the grandchildren...” Better late than never, I suppose, but so much time wasted, so many golden opportunities missed.

Prejudice in any shape or form doesn’t only eat away at a person’s mind-body-spirit, however much he or she may resist and rise above it, but can destroy families, even communities that are the chief losers in a human equation that will never quite add up until certain people see sense and recognise that all good people have a right to live their lives as they see fit, whether or not it quite adds up to what others might prefer.

I have seen prejudice drive people to crime, even suicide; such a waste of human potential. Whatever happened to respecting and making the best of our loved one’s choices for the good of everyone concerned? Driving home a point from a which misplaced pride refuses to let us budge can so easily make losers of us all.

ANTHEM PLAYED ON A GRASS HARP

Watery sun dripping through trees,
leaves sparkling like jewels in a crown
where we’d wander, my love and I,
ears pricking up at a chick’s first cry,
looking out for others flapping their way
on first flights through dawn rainbows
till gliding with ease as nature meant
for us all, although less so among humans,
a species well known for thinking they
know better than Earth Mother, wishing
them ill (and Hell) who resist straitjackets
and persist in walking tall

On a magic carpet of many colours,
among daisies passing for fairies
in a palace of dreams, we’d go free,
where all prejudices and bigotry
mean less than a fair breeze in the face,
Earth Mother’s caress in the hair,
reminding us how we are, one and all,
as nature intended, no one creature
any more or less precious than another,
each, in their own way, a ‘live’
testament to mind-body-spirit and a history
lending meaning to eternity

We arrived where the carpet
tuned into stone, where no sun shining,
only Shadows, a gathering of forces
preparing to take humanity on and win
any fight it may choose to pick,
no matter rights and wrongs (or alternative
points of view); for them, a certainty
that the world has no place for men, women
and young people whose sexuality
offends a majority choosing to make stand
on a Ship of Fools in a gale force wind, set on
making sense of humankind

Oh, but spring in our hair like jewels in a crown
Love takes for its own!

Copyright R.N. Taber 2010; rev.2021

Note: This poem has recently been significantly revised since first appearing in my collection On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Book, 2010.] 

(Another) Window on Christmas

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A reader wonders why the Government here are prepared to put people at risk by relaxing Covid-19 safety regulations for Christmas, but not other religious celebrations that have come and gone since the pandemic began. We are, he reminds us, a multicultural society, after all.  A good point, I think, although I do not subscribe to any religion myself other than a feeling for Pantheism.

Whatever, we are a common humanity, after all.

Another reader asks for " … at least one more Christmas poem to see us through what may well be a very difficult time for many of us this year.” 

Hopefully, today’s poem may go some way towards satisfying both readers.

Take care, everyone,

Hugs, 

Roger

(ANOTHER) WINDOW ON CHRISTMAS

It’s redbreast’s song bursts on my ears
as at my window I watch snowflakes fall,
missing you so, wishing we could share
such gifts of love as meant for one and all 

In the distance, I can hear bells bringing
tidings meant to fill sad hearts with cheer,
spread thoughts of peace and goodwill
where much of the world left living in fear 

Caught in a window’s wintry reflection,
I watch tearstained faces reach for the sky,
weepy eyes smiling for a moment divine,
as Apollo drops by and blesses us, you and I 

This mind-body-spirit uniting with yours,
though Covid-19 bent on keeping us apart;
love, it makes us one, and all the stronger,
for distance means little to the human heart 

It’s Love’s song, bursting Christmas at its seams
with humanity's dearest desires and dreams…

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2020

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

L-O-V-E, Survivors

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Today’s poem first appeared on the blog in 2016, and has since been (slightly) revised.

Staying positive and trying to keep looking on the bright side of life has never been harder for many of us than now as the Covid-19 coronavirus continues to take its toll around the world. Essentially, I am a positive thinking person; even so, life has a nasty habit of contriving circumstances likely to make us think differently, circumstances which, for whatever reason, spot a chink in our psychological armour and send us into free fall ...

Many years ago, my lie took a turn for the worse (not the first time) and I had a bad nervous breakdown; unable to see a way through it, I attempted suicide. Fortunately, life forces I cannot begin to describe kicked in, and I started to see something of the wood through its trees. I recall telling a doctor, "I can't do this." His reply has stayed with me ever since. "Yes, you can," he said, "... just tell yourself over and over that you will get through it, and you will. Better still, focus on all the positive things you want to do that giving up now will never let you, and go with the damn flow, man, go with the flow." 

So … I went with the damn flow, and survived to tell the tale.

Good or bad, we make the world we live in and it is up to all of us to try and make it a better one.

Humanity's rage to live for love and the greater good will always defeat its enemies in the end.

Looking on the bright side of life may not always be easy, but human beings have a natural capacity for love, in all its shapes and forms, and the more we can focus on that the better. 

(Did I say it would be easy...?) 

This poem is a villanelle.

L-O-V-E, SURVIVORS

Though bigotry and hate thrive 

among the world’s power brokers,

it’s love that will see us survive

Always, people willing to drive

forces for good to the aid of others,

though bigotry and hate thrive

While terrorist-led plots connive

to mock this world’s peacemakers,

it's love that will see us survive

Open heart and mind ever contrive

to expose the worst attention seekers,

though bigotry and hate thrive

If life giving forces as bees to hive,

(a warning sting for potential takers)

it’s love that will see us survive

As sure to keep freedom's name alive,

as frustrate its would-be code breakers;

though bigotry and hate thrive,

it’s love that will see us survive 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016, 2020

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

Guest Speaker

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Here is another poem that I came across as I work my way though my later print collections in order to (eventually) post revised editions of all my collections online; it does not appear elsewhere on the blog... (Earlier ones will be more time-consuming as I have since revised many of the poems,)  Oh, and anyone interested will also find 'new' poems on my gay-interest poetry blog.

At the time this poem was written, multiculturalism was still finding is way in the UK; although it has been an aspect of society here for years, a growing immigrant population, and a mixed media reaction to it, meant everyone began focusing on the issue with increasing intensity and - as often as not - increasing criticism.Thankfully, most people accept multiculturalism as part of everyday life, but it continues to have its critics, especially where various socio-cultural-religious issues are concerned.

Why, oh, why can't people simply agree to differ and enjoy a feisty debate without recourse to race or gender issues that are no more relevant to the modern world than dinosaurs?

This poem is a kenning or a "Who am I?" poem as the kenning is often called.

GUEST SPEAKER

I am relatively new

to the world’s societies

bent on testing me

to the limits of tolerance

towards a diversity

keen to embrace everyone,

regardless of race, sex

or creed if on its divisions

determined to feed

I dare have my say

in public places, Holy Books,

political manifestos,

though adults (as a rule)

less likely to grasp

what it is we’re getting at

than the child at school

asked what he or she thinks

life is all about

We have to live together,

which means more agreeing

to differ, if only to defuse

rising discontent with animosity

dished up by this culture

or that religion vying for priority

with precious little respect

for a common humanity

Engage with me, Multiculturalism,

expose any Politics of Separatism

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title, 'Footnote to a Treatise on Abuse' in Tracking the Torchbearer, Assembly Books, 2012.]

Just a Question of Love

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Today’s poem  is from my gay-interest blog archives for April 2012 and takes its title from a delightful and moving gay movie of the same name (in translation) Juste une Question d’Amour; it was first shown on French television in January 2000.

There was a time, especially in the 1980's and early 1990's, that Channel 4 here showed a variety of mainstream gay films, but we rarely see any on British television these days. [By mainstream, I mean an alternative to the kind of soft porn stuff that’s easy enough to come by. No worries there, but I for one enjoy a good story line with believable characters. Titles like The Torchsong Trilogy, Beautiful Thing, Get Real and Brokeback Mountain instantly spring to mind...]

Only relatively rarely do we even hear any discussion on gay issues here, either on TV or radio. Could it be that broadcasters are afraid of offending the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority, increasing in numbers all the time in a multicultural society in which various socio-cultural-religious hang-ups invariably include homophobia?

Now, as I have said many times, love does not discriminate so why should anyone? Sometimes I wonder, are we really living in the 21^st century?

Even nowadays, many gay people are made to feel they have to choose between sexuality and family, friends, culture, entire home environment. No one should have to make such a choice anywhere in the world. and no one has the right to impose it on anyone else. To each, their own, of course, but we can agree to differ without going into hostile overdrive, surely?

 Whatever our gender, race, religion, sexuality, disability, age etc. - oh, and politics as well - .we are a common humanity; as such, we need to start treating people we consider 'different' with the same respect we would ask them to pay us. Ageism, sexism, racism, homophobia....there is far too much of such prejudices across the world, as damaging in our Here-and-Now as climate change to our futures, for young people especially since it will be they, not us, who will be expected to bear the long-term consequences. 

Wake up, world, and get real!

This poem is a villanelle.

JUST A QUESTION OF LOVE 

As spring rain from above

on Earth Mother in pain;

it's just a question of love

As push comes to shove,

so love into its own,

as spring rain from above

The healing wing of a dove

will learn to fly again;

it’s just a question of love

Love has nothing to prove;

a bigot’s loss, its gain,

as spring rain from above

See a hand torn from glove

beat cold and pain;

it’s just a question of love

If nature’s sexuality prove

as precious a bane

as spring rain from above,

it’s just a question of love

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

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

Regeneration

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Much as I love spending time with friends, I also enjoy being on my own which is just as well as I often am, even over Christmas and other 'family' occasions. I don’t mind. I have no partner and relations with my family are strained to say the least. For lovers the world over, though, kept apart by various socio-cultural-religious traditions that need to be brought into the 21^st century… for them, I do mind for I was young once, and it happened to me. I resented it then and I resent it now on behalf of star-crossed lovers everywhere.

After once posting this poem on my gay-interest blog some time ago, a number of heterosexual couples who dip into both blogs got in touch to say they how they could relate to it because they found themselves on opposite sides of this or that socio-cultural-religious divide. One couple said how they had never given much thought to the animosity often shown towards gay couples , until ‘we found ourselves victims of our respective cultures and prejudices that should have been put aside centuries ago…’

Christmas and other religious festivals are a time for families and friends to come together in a spirit of peace and love, yet many lovers are kept apart from each other simply because those same families and friends have tunnel vision and cannot see beyond certain socio-cultural-religious confines within which they have been taught and raised.

As for the poem…if you have ever  made love with someone and felt (almost seen) demons on their back trying to drag them away from you (or vice versa) you will understand how it came to be written.

It may well be that absence makes the heart grow fonder, but it is a lonely heart that beats in a half empty bed …

REGENERATION

My lips crushed against yours

as rose petals between angry fingers,

body seeking to assuage a rage

in you doing battle with darker waves

even than in a storm,

I will the language of love to come

into its own, show you

how, together, we can defeat demons

trampling on your dreams,

intruding on mine, expose them

for who and what they are

beat them, hands down, at history’s

own vengeful game

For it is revenge that stirs them

to forage in your mind for feelings

of a darker kind than love

would choose to have on its side were it

freed from its cage;

a cage, indeed, woven by demons

to keep you from me;

though I rattle its bars with my desires,

let you feed and drink from them,

feel your pulse and confirm you live,

I cannot reach within,

only trust that, in a mutual adrenalin rush,

you’ll make a dash for freedom

I can feel your heart beating faster,

pulse growing stronger each time we kiss

and all but drown in love’s blood,

sweat and tears, making its confession

as only body language can

though words struggling to compensate

where the spirit stronger than ever

but flesh weakened by years of captivity

imposed by demon shadows,

ready to pounce at the first opportunity

once their existence threatened,

prisoners taken at past close encounters

actively considering alternatives

I can taste your guilt on my tongue,

slowly sliding down my throat like bile

as your sex begs me

to burst open your cage, free you

once and for all

from whatever spell written on whatever

page or pages of your history

making you stall even as you bid for a life

that’s full, no holds barred

to making the most of love’s true passion

if you’ll but dare fire its enemies

into a faceless oblivion

Explosion! The landscape of love laid bare

for regeneration

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

Love's Take On Multiculturalism

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I received the oddest email yesterday. A reader had some kind words for my poems but asks, ‘What is the point unless you can be counted among the great poets?’

This reader has answered his or her own question.  There is every point in writing poems if even just one person enjoys reading them.

So I am not a ‘great’ poet.  Do I care?  It is more than enough for me that both poetry blogs are read daily worldwide. Whenever and wherever I give poetry readings, they are always well received, and that's more than good enough for me.

Some cultures still persist with a taboo on mixed-culture relationships. This is especially hard on those people, especially young people, living in a modern multicultural society.  Love has no time for such taboos, and only asks that we respect its global identity.

It is no betrayal of culture, family or whatever to fall in love. Love brings shame on no one, and I include gay relationships. Those who see it as some kind of shameful betrayal are not only out of step with love, but out of step with their culture for interpreting it by book rather than by heart; parents and other family members need to remind themselves that, where any cultural responsibilities appear to override their love for children and siblings, any potential for shame lies not within that culture but within themselves. 

LOVE’S TAKE ON MULTICULTURALISM 

As I put my lips to yours
they part to let my flame enter you,
its heat moulding us
into a live love-sculpture portraying
the true meaning of life

As the flame goes to work
on firing a peace offering to all those
who reject our love,
the raw scars of suffering peel away
like layers of an onion

As we dive and swim freely
where waters of the womb have risen
to offer us sanctuary
from wildfires threatening extinction,
we head for infinity

We reach a sandy shore,
our healing selves embraced by palms
whose leaves caress
where cruel hands would not long since 
have denied us a hearth

Oh, heaven, this splendid place;
if a dream, as real and far more likely 
to inspire angel choirs
than conflict among opposite numbers
in temporal divisions

Sadly, we must rise and leave
to make our way in this 'modern' world,
still a slave to its past
for all its fine rhetoric about fair play
in a free society ...

Yet, we have found a place

where no socio-cultural-religious spite

can keep us apart,

though it pounce on, and spit us out

for breaking its 'rules'

Find us among arts and streets,
recreating love’s custom made models,
nor a finer take on life
than sex, sexuality, race, age or creed
reworking its humanity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

Journey Into Space

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Readers ‘Raoul’ and ‘Sunita’ have asked for this poem that last appeared on the blog in 2010. Their, too, has to be a secret love because their families are on opposite sides of a socio-cultural-religious divide and would not approve of their relationship. Sadly, I often hear from star-crossed lovers, gay and straight alike.

It isn’t only gay people living in a gay-unfriendly environment that know all about that cold, dark closet I experienced many years ago as a secretly gay youth and young man. I would have hoped we were done with all that in 21^st century Britain, Tragically, there are as many if not more people having to endure the same unbearable loneliness that goes with the territory whenever divided loyalties conspire to make us to live a lie.

It has to stop, and the only way a fair, peaceful society stands a chance is through education. Socio-cultural-religious prejudices need to be openly, fairly, sensitively and intelligently debated in schools so that future generations will come to understand what I keep saying about our differences not making us different, only human. Many parents do understand that, of course, but I look around and suspect they are in a minority. All good teachers understand it, but are too often prevented by school politics from passing it on to their students. 

Personal space should not be a closet, for whatever reason, but an open door through which we can not only pass at any time, but also share what we find there with family and friends.

Yes, yes, I know. I am repeating myself yet again. But as my dear, late mother used to say, if something is worth saying, it is always worth repeating.

JOURNEY INTO SPACE

Stars on the water like little ships

sailing down the river;

full moon like a lighthouse beacon

guiding them to harbour;

shadows on the bank applauding

the event

like ghosts from history’s pages

passing by

No one about but lovers, you and I,

keepers of the night

on behalf of all kinder humanity

while nature sleeps;

for a while, even ghosts dare relate

to the little ships

sailing past like wistful thoughts

on a leafy breeze

We pause, you and I, enjoying a rare

sense of freedom,

engaging with Earth Mother at peace

before dawn’s call to arms;

there will be other nights, ships too,

but none like this;

witness the universe open up its heart

and let us in

Come night’s illusions beaten to pulp

by daylight’s hooves,

its lovers shall bear witness wherever

shadows gather

to empathise with time’s penchant

for mortality

and nature’s persistent, eternal passion

for life

[From: Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

England, My England, Three Cheers for St George

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A reader has emailed to say he was surprised to discover I had another blog that I write especially with other gay men and women in mind. He was even more surprised to discover that he 'quite enjoyed reading it. and will do so again.' For anyone else who may be interested, follow the link:

http://aspectsofagaymanslifeinverse.blogspot.com/

I am proud of being an Englishman and sick of being told I shouldn’t be by the so-called ‘politically correct’ brigade. During the World Cup some households have been flying the flag of St George ... but some people have complained, suggesting that it will offend people from ethnic minorities ... as if they don't have teams participating as well as England. Given that St George is also known and respected by Muslims only serves to underline the ignorance of some people.

The poem does not appear in any of my collections so far. It has already provoked some protest emails, one from a Muslim man who implied I am racist and complained that English nationalism makes people like him feel excluded. Well, I don’t think that is anyone’s intention and it’s certainly not mine. As for my being racist, regular readers will know better. I have Muslim friends and others whose culture of origin is homophobic but who have no problem with either my sense of national pride (they cherish their own national/cultural identity) or sexuality.

Regarding social exclusion, I'f say gay people have known our share. Yes, things are better now than they used to be ... for some of us. Even so, I, for my part, resent the kind of socio-cultural-religious homophobia I frequently encounter from people who choose to live in the UK because it offers them a better deal than their own country yet persist in complaining about our ‘liberal’ way of life; these may well be in a minority, but it is a significant and (very) vocal minority. Sorry, but if they don’t like how we do things in the UK (or the West generally) no one will stop them returning to their own country.

ENGLAND, MY ENGLAND, THREE CHEERS FOR ST GEORGE

England, my England, where are you now?
Once, I ran in green fields, played conkers
in the school playground with friendly peers
who hadn’t even learned to spell, let alone
discover the meaning of prejudice, bigotry,
racism and homophobia

England, my England, where are you now?
Once I’d shop for sweets in a corner shop
that’s an ugly, costly apartment block now
among other carbuncles that have sneaked
into High Streets and side roads like thieves
in a corporate darkness

England, my England, where are you now?
Once you offered safety in numbers that now
would gobble me up like a swarm of locusts,
forcing an entry to trains, planes and buses,
making it their business to expose my bones
to political scrutiny

England, my England, where are you now
that let ambition get the better of humanity
and now must pay the price for aspiring
to a supremacy sure to be brought down
for its sheer audacity, while (still) declaring
an empathy with globalisation?

England, my England, where are you now
that sucks up to hawks where once it flew
with eagles, leaves crumbs out for doves
where it feasts on cake and caviar, deceiving
itself and all of us who eagerly devour
the latest opinion polls?

England, my England, where are you now?
Falling apart, a unity bought with the blood,
sweat and tears of centuries, even politics
caving in to those who shout the loudest where
this or that smooth tongued religion assumes
the moral high ground

England, my England, my love, pride and joy;
let the locusts feed on me, my spirit dare take
its cue from a bold re-working of our history
into a 21st century that may yet see its crumbs
shared out evenly, a divided humanity declared
its own worst enemy

Where now, once my England, in a world
that’s lost its way?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009