Boy on a Rocking Horse

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

Todays poem first appeared on the blog in 2012; I recorded it on You Tube at the time:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b0gU5W8OQ2I (direct link to Video)

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtabe (for my You  Tube channel)

‘Powerless Structures is the beautifully created figure of a boy on a rocking horse and was the latest art work to grace the 4^th plinth in London’s Trafalgar Square.

The poem I have recorded over the video unfolded in my mind the more I considered what the sculpture meant to me personally. The rocking horse that stood by my bedroom window when I was just a boy provided an escape from the harsher realities with which, as a child, I was poorly equipped to cope. My imagination would let fly and take me into magical realms of fantasy, fairy tale and legend as regular readers of my blogs and/or collections know. .

Hopefully, video and poem complement each other in such a way that where the poem is a fairly personal take on the sculpture, the video leaves plenty of space for the viewer to bring his or her own take to this bronze figure of a boy on a rocking horse and latest art work to grace the 4th plinth in London’s Trafalgar Square. 

In line with the existing iconography of the other statues in the square, the child is elevated to the status of a historical hero. However, where they acknowledge the heroism of the powerful, this work celebrates the heroism of growing up. The image of a young boy astride his rocking horse encourages observers to consider the less spectacular events in their lives, which are often the most important.

Danish artists Michael Elmgreen and Ingar Dragset are widely reported as saying it was “up to the public to love it or hate it, but hopefully not ignore it."

Never ignored, that’s for sure.

BOY ON A ROCKING HORSE

Boy on a rocking horse,

rocking to and fro,

are you part of a happy family,

and do they love you so?

As a child in my bedroom,

I used to rock to and fro,

looking out of my window

at the garden below …

One day, at my window,

rocking to and fro,

a swallow settled on the sill

and said, ‘Hello.'

‘Don’t you ever get fed-up

just rocking to and fro

when there’s so much to see,

scores of places to go?’

‘There’s far, far, more to life

than rocking to and fro.

Fly with me and see the world,’

said the swallow.

If I had been happy enough

rocking to and fro,

now I longed to see the world

like the swallow

I became, oh, but so excited

that I rocked to and fro

so hard that, suddenly, I took off

through the window;

at first, flying was a terrific thrill

(after just rocking to and fro)

seeing how people, places, animals,

make up the world we know 

Then I recalled my little room

where I’d rock to and fro,

believing my folks would miss me

and how I loved them so.

‘Please, swallow, take me home

where I can  rock to and fro,

feel I belong, be part of a family

if only because I miss it all so.’

The swallow then took me home,

to just rock to and fro

by a window, looking on a garden

in a house (still) haunting me so

as any child who ever dreamed

while rocking to and fro

on a safe, friendly rocking horse

will, oh, but surely know

I know you, Boy on a Rocking Horse;

we met years ago, in a looking glass

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

(Another) Flower of the Field Cut Down

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

Lyra Catherine McKee was a journalist from Northern Ireland who wrote for several publications about the consequences of the Troubles. She also served as an editor for MediaGazer, a news aggregator website. On 18 April 2019, she was fatally shot during rioting in the Creggan area of Derry.

I never met Lyra McKee and circumstances at the time have always prevented my visiting Northern Ireland. But I have met other, similarly inspiring people from Belfast and its surrounds who have made me particularly sensitive to the toll The Troubles and their lasting consequences for the good people of Northern Ireland; some might disapprove of an Englishman having written the poem below, but as any poet will tell you … if you gotta write, you gotta write.

(Photo taken from the Internet)

(ANOTHER) FLOWER OF THE FIELD CUT DOWN

A journalist, she died on the job,

cut down in her prime,

murdered by a self-styled New IRA

hell bent on fanning flames

of unrest plaguing Northern Island

since its Assembly collapsed

She’d hoped to marry a partner.

had even bought the ring;

a woman in love and openly gay,

winning hearts and minds,

a crusader for change in a society

(still) in the grip of its past

Robbed of a future, by a single shot

fired in pointless anger

by someone unlikely to be qualified

to explain their purpose 

other than celebrating dark times

in the absence of any light

A lively funeral, various politicians

from all divides mixing

with her family and friends to applaud

the life of a woman

eager for communities and society

to come together in peace 

A priest challenged those present 

to explain why it had taken

a young woman's death for politicians

to unite in condemnation

when loath to meet up, debate, see

to shaping all she stood for

A standing ovation spoke (far) louder

than any words at Stormont

or Westminster could begin to utter

for party leaders fearful

of a breaking out of  common sense

likely to damage media profiles

Consensus, that Lyra’s untimely death

should prove a turning point

for moving on in its social and political

aspirations, not to satisfy

any dogma written on tablets of stone

but a new Here-and-Now ...

To be or not to be? A question folks

of a political bent always ask

the world over, whether better to please

some of the people some

of the time given no hope of pleasing 

all the people all the time

Politics, a good-bad-ugly play on words

meant to engage or disengage,

arm, disarm, even charm where a case

for ends justifying means,

especially when it can mean bridges 

over dark water rebuilt to last

Whatever, some deaths become milestones

in any country’s history,

reminding us how and why someone died,

dates and faces inspirational,

if taken root in mind-body-spirit or left

to haunt us for our shortcomings

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

Majesty, Open Window on an Island History

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

Today Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth 11 is ninety years-old, the longest serving monarch in British history. Here’s wishing Her Majesty a very Happy Birthday.

(Photo taken from the Internet)

There will be tributes paid across the world far greater than mine, but I could not let the occasion pass without marking it on the blog.

(Photo taken from the Internet)

Her Majesty at 90 and three kings-in-waiting,

(Photo taken from the Internet)

This poem is a villanelle.

MAJESTY, OPEN WINDOW ON AN ISLAND HISTORY

Sixty-four years on the throne,

dedicated to serving her country

a much loved, respected queen

A sunny smile for any occasion

marking milestones of pageantry,

sixty-four years on the throne

Classless greetings for everyone

unfazed by royalty, icon of dignity,

a much loved, respected queen

Her innermost thoughts unknown

to those she serves daily, faithfully,

sixty-four years on the throne

Horse riding, a life-time passion,

imaging a very human personality,

a much-loved, respected queen

No abuse of wealth of position

through years of political history;

sixty-four years on the throne,

a much loved, respected queen

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

The Gift Horse

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

Some readers have contacted me in the past to say they cannot access You Tube for one reason or another so I am posting another poem + video here today. (See below.)

Alternatively, you may be able to access it directly on You Tube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5zt3lkwT9k

OR Go to my You Tube channel and search by title:

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

The 4^th Plinth is the north-west plinth in Trafalgar Square in central London, UK set aside for a rolling program of contemporary art works. The current work depicts a skeletal horse in bronze. The artist, German-American Hans Haacke, says it is a tribute to economist Adam Smith and English painter George Stubbs. (The horse is based on an engraving by Stubbs taken from ‘The Anatomy of the Horse’ published in 1766.) Tied to the horse’s front leg is an electronic ribbon displaying live feed from the London Stock Exchange thereby completing the link between power, money and history.

There are many metaphors for wealth and power of which The Trojan (Gift) Horse of myth and legend is but one…

THE GIFT HORSE 

Measure of means, icon for history

gifted with beauty and power;

a horse, once tamed, a worthy ally

An ages-old metaphor for industry,

no less so for sport, and leisure;

measure of means, icon for history

Well trained, no more trustworthy

a vehicle of human endeavour;

a horse, once tamed, a worthy ally

Sometime victim of the inhumanity

human beings show one another;

measure of means, icon for history

Life force against worldly adversity,

(live metaphor for Earth Mother)

a horse; once tamed, a worthy ally

Imaging death as a skeletal memory,

elegy to nature and human nature;

a horse, once tamed, a worthy ally,

measure of means, icon for history

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Flotilla of Remembrance

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

Today, May 21st 2015, a flotilla of boats will set sail from Ramsgate to mark the 75^th anniversary of the Dunkirk evacuation during World War 2.

This poem is a villanelle.

FLOTILLA OF REMEMBRANCE

To Dunkirk, the little ships did sail

for tens of thousands, backs to the sea;

an awesome task they dare not fail

Its bloody beaches saw hope prevail,

a town on fire, centre-stage for history;

to Dunkirk, the little ships did sail

Ordinary people, answering the call

to play their part for king and country;

an awesome task they dare not fail

Injured and dying due for a miracle

few could believe they would ever see;

to Dunkirk, the little ships did sail

Tens of thousands plucked from hell

under plain sail transcending the ordinary;

an awesome task they dare not fail

Soldiers of Peace, heroes one and all,

applying humanity’s balm, braving its fury;

to Dunkirk, the little ships did sail,

an awesome task they dare not fail

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2015 

[Note: May 27^th - June 4^th 1940 saw the remarkable rescue of tens of thousands of allied troops trapped under enemy fire on the beaches of Dunkirk. ]

Islamic State (So-Called); Rivers of Blood, Sea of Hate

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

(Update, December 12 2018: The appalling attack on a Christmas Market in Strasbourg yesterday evening is being treated as a terrorist attack; the perpetrator, known to French police, is believed to have been radicalised in prison.  Whether or not Islamic State claims responsibility, they must surely take the lion's share of responsibility for any terrorist event which involves the perpetrator shouting 'Allahu Akbar (God is Great) in the course of its execution. The hearts of decent people worldwide will be reaching out to the family and friends of the dead and injured.]

[Update. March 23 2018]: Hearts across the world will be reaching out to the families and friends of those killed/ traumatised by events near Carcassonne in southern France earlier today; indeed to all the people of France, tragically no stranger to such atrocities. First reports are suggesting a link to so-called Islamic State. The terrorists can, do, and will bring fear and grief wherever they go...but they can never win if only because there is more humanity than inhumanity across the world and the former, for all the hurt it may suffer, remains indestructible.]

[Update. August 18 2017]: Re-publishing this poem/post is becoming frighteningly familiar. All good hearts cannot help but go out to the families and friends of those killed and all those injured in two horrific terrorist attacks in Spain; one yesterday and another in the early hours of this morning. It is awful enough when natural events like the recent mudslide in Sierra Leone cause devastation and death, but terrorism is a deliberate, human act and all the more horrific for that.

[Update. May 23 2017]: Events in Manchester last night have shocked and horrified the civilised world. Our hearts and thoughts fly not only to the families and friends of the dead and injured, but to anyone who was there, and may well be haunted by this senseless tragedy forever. One death is one death too many, but the ever growing total from terrorist attacks around the world must not deflect a common determination to give the greater good of human spirit a free rein to rise above it all and express itself in such acts of all-inclusive kindness as we have seen in the past; as good a message as any to terrorists that they will not and cannot win.

[Update, March 22 2017]: Our thoughts this morning are especially with the families and friends of those who died and were injured in yesterday's terrorist attack in London. Those who witnessed the attacks on Westminster Bridge and outside the Houses of Parliament will have seen scenes likely to stay with them for the rest of their lives. We can only trust that time will be kind to everyone in helping to alleviate their distress. As for the terrorists, whoever they may be, the bastards can never win if only because the better side of human nature and the natural goodness in people is stronger by far than anything they can throw at us.]

[Update, Jan 2nd 2017]: Yet again our hearts go out to the families and friends of victims and survivors of yet another terrorist atrocity carries out by so-called Islamic State, this time at a nightclub in Istanbul on New Year's Eve. The same, of course, applies to the victims of the latest car bomb attack in Iraq (Baghdad). Around the world, fanatics attached to I S strike at the very principles of our personal freedoms, but they will not emerge victorious in the ultimate endgame...if only because the majority of human kind are better than they can ever hope to be.]

[Update, Dec 20, 2016]: Our hearts go out to all the families and friends of those killed and injured in what appears to have been a terrorist attack on a Christmas market in Berlin yeaterday. Terrorists are worse than just murderers; they have no conception of decent humanity beyond their own warped idealism.  But humanity is comprised of a stronger resilience to attack than these sick minds can possibly conceive; its innate goodness WILL triumph, although the road ahead be long and many more tears shed before terrorism (and all hate crime) hangs its head in shame and concedes defeat.] 

[Update, June 26th 2015: I am sure most if not all readers will join me in utter condemnation of the murderous attack by Islamic State fanatics on innocent civilians in Tunisia, France and Kuwait yesterday. Our thoughts today are with the victims, their families and friends for whom life will never be the same again.]

[Update, November 14th 2015: Yet again, the so-called Islamic State have caused carnage. It is claiming responsibility for the deaths of many innocent civilians in Paris last night and I am sure all my readers hearts go out to the family and friends of those killed. The bastards will not win. The principles of democracy, freedom and the humanitarian values upon which they are founded and from which they will always take their strength and survive, no matter what, WILL prevail.]

Regular readers will know that I try to record certain world/national events as well as my personal relationship with body, mind and spirit and various communications with nature. My collections reflect this, too. 

I once had the idea that, centuries on, someone might come across my poetry in a time capsule and see that, for all the early twenty-first century was a mess, the finer qualities of human nature endured, survived and overcame even the atrocities committed by Islamic State (formerly ISIS) in the name of a form of Islam Muslim friends, acquaintances, and colleagues have assured me for years that no true Muslim would countenance

This poem is a villanelle.

ISLAMIC STATE (SO-CALLED): RIVERS OF BLOOD, SEA OF HATE

A raging tide, Islamic State,
(creating floods of fear);
rivers of blood, Sea of Hate

Religion, at the Devil’s Gate
(password ‘power’ here);
a raging tide, Islamic State

Good people left to their fate
(even the sun sheds a tear);
rivers of blood, Sea of Hate

Women and children but bait
(up for grabs, world media)
a raging tide, Islamic State

Islam dragged into disrepute
(its peace lovers in despair);
rivers of blood, Sea of Hate

Poisonous radicalism at root,
(no care for Earth Mother);
a raging tide, Islamic State;
rivers of blood, Sea of Hate

[London, August 30th 2014]

Copyright R. N. Taber 2014

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]

A Passion for Trees

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

Today's poem has not appeared on the blog since 2008 and has been  especially requested by ‘Jack and Louise’ for ‘[our] son Michael and his partner Jonathan.’

So the  poem talks of gay love…so what? Love is love is love just as a poem is a poem is a poem and - most importantly of all - a person is a person is a person. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.

Oh, but the tales a tree can tell...if we but care to listen!

The famous opening lines of ‘Trees’ by American writer, Joyce Kilmer (1886-1918) s may well spring to mind:

‘I think that I shall never see

A poem lovely as a tree...’

Photo: An ash tree.

A PASSION FOR TREES

There’s a tree in a field

that sings me a love song

every time I’m sitting

where it rises from the ground;

listen, and you’ll hear

the lyric of a love song hanging

on a dream lost and found

By a tree in a field

we wrote our first love song,

bodies entwining

as we lay there on the ground,

sharing with the birds

such joy, such passion, hanging

on a dream lost and found

There’s a tree in a field

that watched us kiss and part,

not daring to believe

as we lay there on the ground

how gay love might

survive a world left but hanging

on dreams lost and found

To a tree in a field

we returned to write a love song,

bodies entwining

as we lay there on the ground,

sharing with the birds

such joy, such passion, a waking

dream lost and found

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

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

Kylie

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

[Update: Nov 14th 2020: Kylie Minogue has become the first female artist to top the UK albums chart in five consecutive decades. She broke the record with the release of her new studio album 'Disco', released last Friday (November 6) and entered the Official Charts at Number One. Well done, Kylie.]

Update (30/5/18): A belated Happy Birthday to Kylie who was 50 years young on May 28th. 

Update (25/2/2016): Congratulations to Kylie and fiancé Joshua Sasse on their recent engagement.

Meanwhile ...

Hello everyone!

I can’t keep away at the moment although I am busy with other things. I have nasty infections in both ears so cannot wear my hearing aids. It is very stressful and there is no point in my seeing as much of friends as I usually do because I can barely hear what is being said!

It can get lonely when you live on your own as I do. When I write up the blogs, I feel less isolated and in contact with a whole range of people across the world. It is a GOOD feeling.

Meanwhile...

In the past, I have posted poems inspired by my favourite singers such as Doris Day and the late, great, Ella Fitzgerald. Several readers have asked if I have any more poems like this so I am posting one today. (I will post another tomorrow, too, for the incredible Shirley Bassey.) I am also working on a villanelle for the late, great, Dusty Springfield.

At nearly 67 years-old, I am probably one of Kylie Minogue’s oldest fans. I only hope that if she ever gets to read it, she will enjoy this villanelle written especially with her in mind. (It is especially nerve-wracking trying to write a poem for a special person or event as I just never know how it will be received, but I guess that goes for any poem...)

Photo: Kylie Minogue (taken from Internet)

KYLIE

Sunshine bursting free
of wintry skies,
a woman called Kylie

Lark on a dawn spree,
spreading happiness,
sunshine bursting free

Modest in her bravery
sharing her fears,
a woman called Kylie

Awe-inspiring artistry
come to entertain us,
sunshine bursting free

A haunting personality
deserving applause,
a woman called Kylie

To life’s darker tapestry,
bringing fair reprise;
sunshine bursting free,
a woman called Kylie

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

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.