Painted Dreams

 

From Roger’s friend, Graham.

 

Greetings from a cloudy Essex riverside, and welcome.

Life can be a bittersweet symphony, as the song by British indie band, Verve, suggests. A shifting interplay of light and shade; smiles, tears, triumph and tragedy. How the individual makes sense of it is, like art, a studied interpretation.

Whether poet, artist, or none of the above, the human sees beyond the innate existence or istigkeit of their subject to reveal deeper truths. Capturing aspects of its meaning, its purpose, or even its cultural symbolism. Though a painting or poem merely occupy a veneer, their expositions delve deep. They’re so much more than just visual facsimiles or mechanical recordings.

Although constrained in his early years by familial and societal expectations, Roger, I think, blossomed in later life. He discovered his métier and befriended his muses. He embraced his passion for poetry, daring to rise above naysayers and the sniffy literati. (Just as any self-respecting Impressionist would disregard the strictures of Académie.) In the period that I knew him, he lived a bold, liberated and authentic life. ‘I’m past caring what people think about me’ he might say. Or sometimes (after a vino or two) he was rather more forthright: ‘Ah boll*cks to ‘em!’ he’d proclaim with a wry bardic grin.

I know Roger loved the paintings of British artist William Turner (or J. M. W. Turner). I sense that influence in his impressionistic wordscapes. His mind’s eye conjuring glittering pools of reflection, rolling pastures of rampant joy, and brooding skies of depression. Edges diffused, flowing and pulsing, in a vivid palette of words. A tree centre stage, feverishly worked into a hazy summer meadow. Figurative renderings; intertwining in storms of passion, making love, coalescing into a single entity. Fleeting beauty, captured in all its fragile and poignant intensity. Grotesque demons of blind hatred and heartless sanctimony exposed in their naked form; their monstrosity and absurdity revealed. Intense outpourings of a soul in ecstasy or agony; becalmed or in the tumult of a raging existential tempest. Unvarnished truths… swirling interplays… bold strokes. Lines of time tracing the vigour of youth to the frailty of old age. A life within and without; captured in all its delicate and gaudy hues.

Though Roger’s passions are now spent, his palette dry and his mind’s eye sleeping, his impressions endure. Open to interpretation and fresh perspectives. But most of all – to be enjoyed in that wondrous communion between artwork and observer.

And like his wordscapes, Rog blazed brightly in life too. Illuminating darkness and filling days with colour. Always there for me when I needed sage counsel, shelter, or reassurance. Likewise, I did my best to help him in his times of need. More than that though, he was great fun to be around. We enjoyed many uproarious days out*; consuming far too much ale and jokingly posturing around town as a pair of swaggering Bohemians. I recall our hilarious drunken antics involving spectacles falling into toilet pans, ales inadvertently slopped over crotch areas, and trousers accidentally slipping to half-mast on tube platforms. (Possibly not the sort of exposure an artist craves?) Plus a whole litany of other indecorous displays. It’s a wonder we weren’t arrested! Ah, dear ‘ole Rogie - feet of clay, but his head in the stars. It was a joy and a privilege…

I feel that Roger left this world slightly more picturesque than he found it. His legacy; a gallery of living, breathing landscapes of the imagination. I’ll leave you with one of my favourite poems. (Please forgive this self-indulgence, but I’m hopeful you’ll enjoy it.) It’s raw creative dynamism still paints my daydreams.

Cheers, Gx

* Reference to the period prior to Roger’s nasty fall and subsequent mobility impairment.

*  *  *  *

 

THE POET’S SONG

I am a Painter of Dreams,
my brush, a pen – words
all the paint available, tackling
the unassailable to bring within reach
of unquiet heart, restless soul,
images of life and love,
vision of a goal beyond perimeters
of time, space - humanity’s crude
conception of grace

I am a Painter of Dreams,
bringing you mine, intruding
on yours, winging heaven’s
elusive towers that flicker in a mist
of aspiration, inviting inspiration,
daring us to home in, defy
the rude mentality of a classroom
morality - humanity’s crude
conception of spirituality

See-Hear-Taste-Touch-Smell,
I am a Painter of Dreams, who
means well but often offends
who dare suggest I speak for all
that seek gold where the rainbow ends
for, like Pandora’s Box, our secrets
once let fly - each to their own;
Painter, dreamer, shades of light
or ships in a cruel night

Senses, falling apart at the seams
for a Painter of Dreams

 

Copyright R. N. Taber. From the collection: First Person Plural, 2002.

Viva la Villanelle!

From Graham, Roger’s friend and ole’ drinking buddy

Greetings from sunny Essex, UK.

Spring has arrived in a delirium of birdsong and the intoxicating scent of cut grass. The sun flames low, setting the river ablaze like smelted gold; gilding trees and rooftops. My gaze lingers as a curtain of dusk draws down; a darkening vignette blushes vermilion, among peach and lilac clouds. Stirring a quixotic soul to reverie.

But meanwhile… throughout the two decades I’ve known Rogie he’s loved writing villanelles. You may have noticed there’s entire forests of them populating this blog (and even more in printed collections). His enthusiasm even extended to encouraging me in the art. Although I rarely dabble nowadays. There’s something quite satisfying in their construction. A bit like finishing a crossword puzzle or a Sudoku. They may even have wellbeing benefits, who knows? Stimulating theta brainwaves or something…?

Assuming you’re interested in poetry (and not here checking for offensive content), I’d encourage you to try composing a villanelle of your own. It’s a fun challenge and could help to while away the boredom of commuting? Or offer a welcome distraction from the banal babble, ear-piercing screeches and nose-picking forays of fellow passengers? Certainly preferable to bumping along in a packed carriage facing someone daubing makeup on in some bizarre homage to Picasso?

Rog sometimes bestowed framed villanelles to friends for special occasions. (I’ve included an example near the end; ‘Free Spirits’.) I hope this might offer an added incentive to get writing. Imagine… sending an amorous villanelle to your secret valentine, or a Mother’s Day tribute that would touch the heart. Alternatively, it could be a satirical vehicle on the growing global trend in demagogues and dictators? Whatever, your choice.

I’ve included a writing guide below:

 

*  *  *

A lay-person’s guide to villanelles (by Prof. Phil E. Stein)

So I won’t bore you with stanzas, tercets and quatrains, blah blah…

Structure and rhyming scheme:

Simply, a villanelle is a poem of nineteen lines which is divided into 6 verses. The first 5 verses are 3 lines each. For each of these verses the first and third line rhyme. The very last (6th) verse has 4 lines - with the first, third and last line all rhyming.

A second (different) rhyming scheme is used on the second line of all 6 verses.

Line repetition:

From the first verse - Line 1 and line 3 repeat alternately on the last line for verses 2, 3, 4, and 5.

In the last verse things change. Line 1 and 3 from the first verse couple together – forming the last two lines.

It’s probably easier to understand structure if you search out some examples. Such as ‘Do not go gentle into that good night’, by Welsh poet Dylan Thomas.

Note 1 - on composing villanelles: I’m not aware of any limit on line length. So provided you can read aloud each entire line without gasping for oxygen then it’s probably fine.

Note 2 - on rhyming: ‘Internal rhyme’ can be used in the rhyming scheme, i.e., words with a similar vowel sound but not an exact rhyming match.

Tip: try jotting down two separate lists of all the words that work with your two rhyming schemes. You can then select from these while composing. And remember that line 1 and line 3 in the first verse need to make sense when placed together in the very last two lines. 

*  *  *

As you can probably tell, I’ve never studied literature like wot Roger done. But I can at least pass on his verve for villanelles! I’ll leave you with some selected examples. And as a cheeky bonus I’ve even included one of my own.

Happy writing! x

 

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

 

THE ZEN OF DISCERNMENT

Like ghosts, our years pass us,
(the mixed blessings of memory)
as hauntingly beautiful as stars

No lesser regard for science
than Earth Mother’s finer poetry,
like ghosts, our years pass us,

Images of laughter and tears
finest art can only ever but copy,
as hauntingly beautiful as stars

No hopes wing more precious
than family and friends in harmony;
like ghosts our years pass us

Come birdsong to fine old trees,
so joy and pain creating our history,
as hauntingly beautiful as stars

As centuries turn nature’s leaves,
so each human heart creates eternity
like ghosts, our years pass us,
as hauntingly beautiful as stars

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2011. Dedication: Jim Howard. From the collection Tracking The Torchbearer.

*  * 

FREE SPIRITS

To Earth Mother, joy among tears
wherever we run
the gamut of life’s fears

Keeping faith with friendly trees,
embracing every one;
to Earth Mother, joy among tears

Come glorious sunsets on pastures
pink and green…
the gamut of life’s fears

Choice, all humankind gladly frees
to be true to its own;
to Earth Mother, joy among tears

Peace (nature too) will find enemies
where its colours run
the gamut of life’s tears

Gay love, blessed by summer kisses,
a bid for freedom won!
To Earth Mother, joy among tears,
the gamut of life’s fears

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2012. Dedication: written for Paul & Rob to celebrate their Civil Partnership in Biggleswade, Saturday 11 July 2009. From the collection: On the Battlefields of Love.

* *

WATERWAYS OF BRITAIN: MAKING PEACE WITH PROGRESS 

On the waterways of Britain
(many neglected for years)
Man and nature as one again

Compensating for acid rain,
find honest sweat and tears
on the waterways of Britain

Ever mindful of loss and gain,
(Oh, spirited volunteers!)
Man and nature as one again

A testament to industry’s pain,
toiling through its centuries
on the waterways of Britain

Hosting the occasional swan,
even water voles and otters,
Man and nature as one again

Among such, pages written
of a nation’s finer endeavours;
on the waterways of Britain,
Man and nature as one again

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016. Note: I wrote this poem to accompany a video shot by Graham Collett for my You Tube channel: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WA8VQoPgX2M

* *

A TREATISE ON EFFLUENCE
[or CONSUMERISM ANGST]

They’re feeding me crap
I’m the worm that turned*
I’m biting back

For our burger and bap
a forest burned
They’re feeding me crap

I am more than a stat!
Processed-mind; unlearned
I’m biting back

Your snake-oil snack
leaves my stomach churned
They’re feeding me crap

This consumerist trap;
my escape route discerned
I’m biting back

I’ll dump all these apps
Sail to Crusoe’s island!
They’re feeding me crap
I’m biting back

By Graham Collett, 2024. [Apologies for this vulgar effort!]

* ‘Even a worm will turn’ is an English language expression used to convey the message that even the meekest or most docile of creatures will retaliate or seek revenge if pushed too far. It was used in William Shakespeare’s play Henry VI. (Sourced from Wikipedia).

Suggestions

 

From Graham – a close friend to Roger

It’s only from space the full extent of Earth’s environmental damage can be observed. Deforestation, receding glaciers, coastal inundation and the advance of deserts. From the flattened horizon of a human perspective, few witness the blanching of a coral reef or a river choked with plastic. The devastation remains somehow abstract… deniable.

It’s difficult to deny global weather patterns are becoming more anomalous and extreme. Or refute data that tells of rising average temperatures and collapsing biodiversity.

Venus, our nearest planet, suffered the fate of runaway atmospheric heating about 1 billion years ago when she still had surface temperatures akin to earth. This calamitous build-up of greenhouse gasses created a roiling inferno. A tormented celestial augur perhaps, foreshadowing the fate of her sister planet?

Just as our Earth’s marring is only framed in the bigger picture, the solution too, must be holistic. Political elites must be pressured to think pro-action over procrastination. Corporations must prioritise preservation over profit. And even wealthy religious organisations might be encouraged to save the planet rather than souls? They could even get real and recognise that their impending Judgment Day-cum-Apocalypse will likely be man-made rather than deity-designed. Surely this is the true existential crisis and moral imperative for all to confront…?

The onus is also on individuals to be the change through the choices they make. Small personal sacrifices for the greater good of our, and future generations. The cumulative benefits of driving a vehicle less, eating less (or no) meat and dairy, and conscientious consumerism should not be underestimated. The individual is not powerless to affect change by boycotting businesses that despoil natural habitat or cruelly exploit our fellow animals. Or to see beyond that acquisitional mindset fuelled by sly advertising.

Oh, but of course, there’ll always be climate change deniers - last seen at a Flat Earth Society meeting alongside creationist preachers and conversion therapists…

Roger loved this sun-kissed cradle of life we call Earth, Gaia, Terre... ‘Earth Mother’ features widely in his nature poems and was his foremost muse. He was captivated by her kaleidoscopic raiment in the ebb and flow of seasons. He took practical steps to conserve our precious planet too. He was ostensibly vegan and passionate about recycling – to the extent of policing rubbish bins where he lived. He’d leave curt notes in communal areas for offending parties who dumped non-recylcables in the green bin. And, believe me, Roger knew how to lambast even the most shameless slattern or slob!

When Rog was more mobile we enjoyed many a stroll on Hampstead Heath; communing with mother nature, imbibing ambrosial scents of wild, iridescent flora and savouring heavenly birdsong. Sometimes (pre-vegan days) we’d enjoy an ice cream and trace meandering lakeside tracks among coruscating sunbeams. We’d invariably climb Parliament Hill and gaze down on London’s sprawling cityscape then dive into a cosy pub. The Heath was Roger’s sanctuary and connection to his beloved Earth Mother.

This next poem of Roger’s appears in Accomplices To Illusion, 2007. I find it provocative.

‘The fact is that no species has ever had such wholesale control over everything on earth, living or dead, as we now have. That lays upon us, whether we like it or not, an awesome responsibility. In our hands now lies not only our own future, but that of all other living creatures with whom we share the earth.’ David Attenborough

‘Anyone who believes in indefinite growth on a physically finite planet is either mad or an economist’ David Attenborough

 

*  *  *

 

SUGGESTIONS

 

They suggest we try and save garden creatures
and ocean whales before it’s too late

They suggest our luxury choices are sure to leave
the generation of 3000 with none

They suggest parents are scared of their children
and raising monsters

They suggest religious leaders pay more attention
to compassion than division

They suggest politicians aren’t listening to those
who put them there

They suggest our multicultural societies are failing
themselves and each other

They suggest we start learning the lessons wars
should have taught us

They suggest we’re but living will and testament
of a dying planet

So who are they, daring to suggest humankind look
to its shortcomings?

Among leafy choirs, anxious waves, nature rehearses
this world’s passing

 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008
[Note: Revised (2008) from the original poem as it appears in Accomplices To Illusion, 2007.]

A Walk in the Park

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

“We are not victims of aging, sickness and death. These are part of scenery, not the seer, who is immune to any form of change. This seer is the spirit, the expression of eternal being.” - Deepak Chopra

“Painting is poetry that is seen rather than felt, and poetry is painting that is felt rather than seen.” – Leonardo da Vinci

“Poetry is a deal of joy and pain and wonder, with a dash of the dictionary.” - Khalil Gibran

“We do not see nature with our eyes, but with our understandings and our hearts.” William Hazlitt

“Forever is composed of Nows.” – Emily Dickinson

Even as a child, I loved being at the heart of nature, not only for its surrounding, but also for the responses to it by mind-body-spirit, communicating sounds and poetry it would be years before I would even begin to define it as a sense of spirituality; years, too, before I felt able to go public with it through poetry. 

As my dear mother used to say, learning curves are not confined to the classroom...

A WALK IN THE PARK

Taking a long walk
in the park, sky many shades
in many moods,
spots of rain urging me pause
by a favourite tree
playing host to feathered friends
bidding me see-hear-listen,
let the indomitable Spirit of Nature
address past-present-future

Becoming more aware
of a Here-and-Now beyond 
rain and cloudy skies,
a part of me opening up, not only
to what it could see
but to feelings, asking questions
of heart-and-soul
it had not thought of asking,
confused by worldly turns of thought,
all but become a habit

Life is for all, no exceptions,
though we are sometimes made 
to feel we don’t deserve
a voice, simply for nurturing
visions of self-identity 
considered ill-suited to this society,
or that community,
for fear of any bullying powers that be;
none so blind as will not see 

Having listened to all the tree
had to say by way of putting lyrics
to the music in my head,
heart-and-soul's reawakened,
already reworking
its approach to everyday living,
less of simply tagging along 
for the ride, up for restating its position;
such is...the art of being human

Ah, but time to go home, hopefully share
all I have yet to make sense of here...

Copyright R. N. Taber (2023)

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

Self-Belief OR Destination, Otherworld

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

“The worst loneliness is to not be comfortable with yourself.” -  Mark Twain

“The greatest thing in the world is to know how to belong to oneself.” - ― Michel de Montaigne

“Wanting to be someone else is a waste of the person you are.”- Marilyn Monroe

“One of the greatest regrets in life is being what others would want you to be, rather than being yourself.” - Shannon L. Alder

“Until you value yourself, you won't value your time. Until you value your time, you will not do anything with it.” - M. Scott Peck 

“Be faithful to that which exists within yourself.” - Andre Gide

“People may flatter themselves just as much by thinking that their faults are always present to other people's minds, as if they believe that the world is always contemplating their individual charms and virtues.” - Elizabeth Gaskell

Foe a variety of reasons, many of us suffer with low self-esteem, sometimes all our lives. I have to admit to being one of the, although I have made real progress over the years in rising above such feelings. Born and raised during the bigoted 1950’s, I was made to feel an inferior person from the time I realised I am gay, at the age of 14. Regular readers will know that I spent years in a lonely closet, rarely confiding in anyone that I was gay until ‘coming out’ to the world in my late 30’s.

Noe was my lack of self-esteem due solely to a rampant homophobia. I am not a very practical person, but found myself in a Technical High School which specialised in practical subjects like woodwork, metalwork, and technical drawing, at all of which I was next to useless and would make the kind of errors that inevitably caught a teacher’s eye; they would, in turn, bring it to the attention of the whole class. Oh, I would laugh it off, but inwardly feel positively sick.

As regular readers will also know, I had a poo relationship with my father, constantly having a go at me for “having my head in a book’ and making me feel a lesser person for that, especially as compared with my older brother who was practical, sporty and all the things my father expected of a son. Rightly or wrongly, I felt psychologically bullied and hadn’t yet learned to effectively stand up for myself without provoking an almighty row.

We are who we are and should not feel a need to justify how we identify ourselves to anyone. Being made - intentionally or otherwise - to feel less of a person by anyone, especially during our formative years or in the workplace, wherever … it can take years, if ever, to shake off a sense of inferiority.

I feel a greater sense of freedom these days, having learned mu lessons the hard way but cannot help wishing I had especially come across the Elizabeth Gaskell quote (above) during my younger years as a bookworm. 

SELF-BELIEF or DESTINATION, OTHERWORLD

Being told this, told that,
and failing to achieve a good result,
gave mind-body-spirit
a sense of falling apart, being unequal
to perspectives on me
I couldn’t work through or begin to share
however hard I’d try,
until I started listening to that voice within
reminding me I'm my own person

All but persuaded to find
my own way in a world confusing me
every step I’d take,
urging I do this or maybe rather do that
to get anywhere,
be the Someone those expecting far more
of me may rest assured
that, if only I’d listened to all they had to say,
I’d have chosen to go a ‘better’ way 

Time and again I’d feel lost,
unsuited and confused by worldly ways
others fell into with ease,
until I stumbled on home truths no-one
had led me to believe,
till mind-body-spirit made time and space
to replace the 'me'
I'd see through other eyes with my very own,
no less from without as from within

I saw a world judging me neither sinner nor fool,
made my peace with heart-and-soul 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2023

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

Hi, Everyone, from London UK

Hi, Everyone, from London UK,

Sorry, no poem today as I am trying to load as many of my poems to a memory stick as I can, just in case the blog ever disappears.

In the past, UK poetry publishers have shown no interest in me because I make it clear that any published collection must include a gay section. My self-published collections proved popular, but the last one appeared in 2021' since then, I have been diagnosed with prostate cancer, had a bad fall that has left me with  mobility problems and have been having to cope while living on my own. I cope OK(ish), so no worries, but nothing gets easier as we grow older and I'm in my late 70's now.

As I have said on the blog before, in latter years, writing poetry has been as much by way of creative therapy than for pleasure; it helps me  manage thought processes and memory problems as a direct result of years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer. So, I feel a need to write what I can, while I can and keep my poems in a safe place in case any publishers eventually show any real interest once I have passed away.

No one has ever appreciated just how much my poetry means to me and, yet again, a BIG thank you to you all, dear readers, for encouraging me by viewing my poems and sending emails from time to time.

Reader H H asks how many views this blog has had in total since I started writing it up about ten years ago. Currently, blogger statistics show 213,149 views; for a poetry blog, this is VERY encouraging, so you can understand why continuing it is so important to an oldie like me, from both a psychological and health point of view. The gay poetry blog statistics show a total of 160, 987 views, again, very encouraging.

Feedback suggests that more LGBT viewers dip into both blogs these days and I like to think it is because they are coming round to the point of view that poetry is for everyone, has something to say to everyone, intent on voicing a perspective on which the reader is invited to consider his or her own take. Whatever, food for thought is important; sadly, the pace of life these days means fewer people can make time enough for even that. 

When I stared blogging, I had been warned that a gay poetry blog would be unlikely to attract many readers and I was unable to find anything similar online, so...G-AY in the Subject Field took to pc screens worldwide. My having been sexually inactive for some years now, it may have  lost its initial momentum, but feedback suggests LGBT readers appreciate the encouragement my poems try to offer. (I spent too many years in a lonely closet to want the same for anyone who is led to believe there is something shameful, even sinful about sexual/ gender identity; neither is a choice, but who we are. 

It is a tragedy of our times that some family members, friends and religious communities continue to be guided by many misleading stereotypes propagated by the less enlightened. 

Nor is the sense of spirituality I have always felt any the less for my being gay. Encouragingly, most young people are more prepared to take others as they find them, without prejudging them for what they may have heard on this or that grapevine. (I suspect political correctness means well, but has proven far less effective than intended;. You cannot effectively legislate for a person's perspectives on life and people; it simply creates closets for any that need to be aired, challenged and modified. 

As for poetry, whether people like a poem or not is less important than they should consider how and why they feel about what it it has to say to the voice in which the poem speaks. (As regular readers well know, I have always championed the right to agree to differ...] RT 😉 

We are barely into 2023, yet violent criminal acts on the streets and behind closed doors are hitting the headlines already .Let us hope that Peace, Love and Understanding will eventually prevail worldwide, the darker side of human nature notwithstanding....!

Oh, and on the subject if headlines, I have been asked what I think of Prince Harry's revelations in his book, Spare. Well, I have no interest in reading it, not least because it is unlikely that other members of the Royal Family will respond and there are always two sides to every story. So, to coin a popular phrase, "No comment." 😉

I am working on a new poem, but slowly as I am not too well and old age is catching up with me. No point in crying over spilt milk, though so, yes, I continue to do my best to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life... even though a fog sometimes.😉

Take care, folks, keep safe and stay positive,

Hopefully, back soon with a new poem,

Hugs,

Roger

Partners for Life

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

“The great thing about getting older is that you become much more mellow. Things aren’t as much black and white and you become much more tolerant. You can see the good things much more easily… “  - Maeve Binchy 

“Aging is not uncomplicated. Creativity is an extraordinary help against destructive demons.” - Ingmar Bergman

“We are not victims of aging, sickness and death. These are part of scenery, not the seer, who is immune to any form of change. This seer is the spirit, the expression of eternal being.” - Deepak Chopra

“The ordinary experiences of aging alter and clarify your view of past, present, and future.” - Edith Pearlman

Now, many if not most of us have to cope with various health issues as we grow old(er). Never easy. The trick is not to let it obscure our perspective on the bright(er) side of life, especially as it is reflected in the kinder side of human nature

PARTNERS FOR LIFE

Growing old,
quality of life much the poorer
just for that, barely 
in touch with a mind-body-spirit
often losing its way
among mixed feelings forever open
to misinterpretation,
of positive thoughts persistently overtaken
by naggings of disillusion?

Looking back
over some shadowy shoulder
at inspiring dreams
left unfulfilled like litter on the streets
where I have lived,
expecting more of a Here-and-Now
than it was able to give,
left wondering what Time may yet yield me
other than... a lonely eternity?

Alternative voices,
familiar enough to any heart-and-soul
having had to rise above
such negative thoughts as sure to haunt
even a positive thinker
whenever life take a turn for the worse,
(as often as not)
tasking us with the greater art of being human,
in starting over, yes, yet again

Oh, mind-and body!
unable to win through, but for letting in
and partnering a native spirit
defying description, invariably taking its cue
from a natural world
no less under threat than a heart-and-soul
continuing to be inspired,
forever working through stages of regeneration;
come mind-body-spirit, in unison.

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2023

[Note: I have been very unwell, but  working on another post-poem has contributed, in no small measure, to my starting to feel a lot better and more positive about looking on the bright(er) side of life...😉 Oh, and I hope some of you will have enjoyed browsing the post-poems in the blog archives during my absence, and will continue to do so.] RT

 

Spelling it Out

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

“We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.” Albert Einstein 

“The world helps you to keep evolving and hope it's for better. You have to rise above all the tragedies in life. You have to grow, and if you stop growing, you are old.” - Hrithik Roshan“

Walking with a friend in the dark is better than walking alone in the light.”- Helen Keller 

“Winter is a season of recovery and preparation.” - Paul Theroux  

“We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty.” ― Maya Angelou

Now, after all the fun and fireworks, the early days of any new year can become daunting as we place our hopes in what lies ahead, no idea whether or not we will see them fulfilled, fail in the attempt or be outwitted by forces beyond our control…? A scary prospect.  The more we contemplate a whole new year ahead, so excitement and enthusiasm may well give way to a mind-body-spirit likely to leave us  less able to think straight than the worst hangover ever.  

So…? We may well need help. We may well need a sounding board. We may well need a good friend (who knows us well) to confide in and help our more positive thoughts to find a voice, give us feedback, help us through the hangover into whatever it takes to help us confront, make sense of and (eventually) rise above whatever is gnawing away at us…

SPELLING IT OUT

Old year done and dusted,
another to get through, for better
or worse, as we can but try 
to keep looking on the bright(er) side
of life, whatever challenges
invading our personal space demand
we meet them head-on, 
resolve to tackle each as best we can,
bring out the best of being human

We can wish our cares away
to no avail, side-step, put on hold
our worst fears in vain,
inevitably have them catch us out
when we are least prepared
for not having thought them through,
shared our feelings with a friend,
sought more than a shoulder to cry on,
called on the best of being human

Every worry, every sadness
needs to find a voice, similarly
every voice needs someone
to listen to what it has to say, hear
what lies beyond the words,
help us to understand our world,
(even make it a kinder place?)
bring such inspiration to personal space
as lets heart-and-soul set the pace

Another year of spelling out You-Me-Us;
keywords: patience, peace, happiness

Copyright R. N. Taber 2023

[Note: This post-poem also appears on my gay poetry blog today, given that feedback continues to suggest that many LGBT readers remain inclined to give this one a miss.] RT

 

Shades of Grey

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“Modern man talks of a battle with nature, forgetting that, if he won the battle, he would find himself on the losing side.” - E. F. Schumacher

“One of the first conditions of happiness is that the link between Man and Nature shall not be broken.” - Leo Tolstoy 

“The best friend on earth of man is the tree: When we use the tree respectfully and economically, we have one of the greatest resources of the earth.”- Frank Lloyd Wright

“Nature's music is never over; her silences are pauses, not conclusions.” - Mary Webb

Now, tomorrow will see us mark the end of 2022, each in our own way.  Across the world, people will be coming together to celebrate New Year’s Eve; a veritable feast of music, dance, relief at having survived another year and hope that the next will, indeed, be a happy one.  

We can, each and every one of us, only do our best to see our hopes fulfilled, subject though all of us are to circumstances beyond our control. All the more reason though, surely, to enjoy the Here-and Now, let it fill our lives with bright colours and inspiring sounds which, though they fade, even die, they, and the person they encouraged us to be, live on in every mind-body-spirit, heart-and-soul, they ever touched.

Oh, and again, many thanks for dropping by, much appreciated, and I hope you will join me again soon for my first post-poem of 2023… assuming that I can continue to rise above - if not quite get the better of - the mess in which ten years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer have left my thought processes.😉

SHADES OF GREY

The world around me,
various shades of grey, a sad, 
often lonely place…
Apollo having all but taken
his leave of us, trusting
we’ll manage gloomy days
as best we can,
let mind-body-spirit aid and abet us
in making wiser choices 

Weary, a natural world
sick of human nature abusing it
in the name of ‘progress’
without taking bold steps enough
to ensure its past-present
may yet anticipate a kinder future
than marks its pages,
colours its history, common humanity
but a chancer’s reality

Shades of green and gold
courtesy of Apollo’s rays of hope,
a brave one-upmanship
taking its cue from any You-Me-Us 
that haunts the history
of a humankind trying to find its way
through multiple shades
of blue-green-gold urging we'll get wise
to its potential demise

Though we suffer its every shade of grey,
trust heart-and-soul to save the day

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

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

Starting Over

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“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.” – Henry David Thoreau

“The mind is its own place and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.” – John Milton

“It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.” - Buddha

Now, overheard in a supermarket on Christmas Eve:

1st Person: “I so love this time of year. It’s so good to unwind, but it’s over too soon, and where are we then? I mean, where’s the excitement, the fun, in a whole new year stretching ahead that’s likely to stress us out all over again?”

2nd Person: “Life is what you make it. For my part, I love the feeling of starting all over again and being given the chance to put a few things right and be happy again. I can’t explain it, but it’s not a bad feeling, quite the opposite…”

I so empathised with that second person. Although I do not subscribe to any of the world religions, I am neither atheist or agnostic. Nature has always filled me with a sense of spirituality I cannot explain, even to myself. Maybe that’s why I write poetry, as an attempt to define the indefinable; not just a feeling, nor a religious faith, but a faith, no less. Whatever, it has seen me through some pretty bad times and some great times too. For better or worse, it has made of my life what, at surface level does not amount to much, but, a n ‘other’ self in me recognizes that it has been an incredible learning curve.

I guess it’s the same for everyone, although in my case it has taken 77+ years to even begin to understand what has to be, in no small part, the role of personal space in the overall meaning of life. As for hope, optimism, positive thinking - whatever we like to call it – maybe that, in turn is the role of the kind of faith that nature inspires in many of us?

For me, anyway, Spinoza’s sense of God and Nature being much of a one-ness, has seen me has seen me through more ups and downs of life to my late 70’s…and I suspect hasn’t finished with me quite yet. So, a new chapter looming in the shape of a new year, is scary, but curiously exciting one. 

Who knows that lies ahead for any of us? We can but trust that still, small voice that goes by whatever name we choose, whatever our personal space learns to feels OK with…? Having grown in the bigoted 1950’s, is it any wonder that it took me until my 30’s to listen to mine and tell the world I’m gay…?

STARTING OVER

End of another year looming,
a global consciousness continuing to plead 
for peace and goodwill
to take root in the hearts of warmongers
in high places left swivelling
on comfy chairs in plush, warm home zones,
rehearsing a Rhetoric of Peace
along with political ends, in keeping with a faux morality
that haunts a weary humanity

End of another year looming,
a global consciousness continuing to hope
for kinder times ahead
on the backs of the quick and the dead
left grieving losses, asking questions,
looking for answers where angels fear to tread
lest they encounter lost souls 
asking the way to a safe house heard tell of called Heaven,
Peace of Mind, second to none

End of another year looming,
mind-body-spirit busy working out
how best to survive;
in or lose, resolving to understand
just who we are
by the end of it all (one way or another) 
not least for listening, believing
in each other, and lending a helping hand, ear, eye, whatever.;
life force, human endeavour

Heart-and-soul preparing to get the better of our flaws again;
mind-body-spirit of being human

Copyright R. N. Taber. 2022

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

 

Hello Everyone, from London UK

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“Faith is a passionate intuition.” - William Wordsworth  

“Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase.” - Martin Luther King, Jr. 

“Faith is an oasis in the heart which will never be reached by the caravan of thinking.” - Khalil Gibran

“The belief that one's own view of reality is the only reality is the most dangerous of all delusions”. - Paul Watzlawick

Now, it is the day before Christmas wherever the birth of Jesus Christ is celebrated; a time, too, to reflect on just what any religious faith means to us, both personally and universally.

As regular readers will know, I consider myself a pantheist. Pantheists believe that God is nature.

Why do I think this way? I have no idea, except that I could never relate to a personified God, yet whenever I have engaged closely with nature, I have always experienced a sense of spirituality which I had always associated with religion, although religion had never given me access to the same experience; a very intimate experience, I should add.

No one person’s perspective on life, faith, whatever, will ever be quite the same, not least because we are all different.  That is not to say that one or other perspective is right or wrong, simply an integral part of who we are. 

Me, I find various religious dogma too prescriptive and often incompatible with my perspective on life as all-embracing, all-inclusive; no excluding anyone on the basis of gender, sexual identity, walk of life etc. Humanity thrives on our differences, differences we need to accept and respect. Religious leaders profess to agree, yet their dogma argues differently. Accordingly, many of their followers may argue differently too.

As regular readers will also be very aware, I am very much in favour of agreeing to differ in a spirit of peace and love, not the kind of divisiveness that causes, families to estrange, nations to declare war. <<wry bardic grin>>

Sadly, human nature is such that we often find ourselves caught on either side of various divides, that cannot or will not see where each is coming from, cannot or will not bring themselves to communicate and even try to understand and find common ground.

Human nature itself is complex, confusing, invariably expected to explain itself, when our actions cannot always be explained away; feelings are not necessarily the same as motives and do not lend themselves easily to the vocabulary of reason. From early years, we are taught that to understand ourselves and each other we need to be insightful as to what motivates, even justifies certain actions.  Yet, as the quotations above suggest, there are elements within all of us that even we, ourselves, are at pains to explain away.

Anyway, enough of my amateurish attempt to explain my deeper sentiments from which has evolved an all-inclusiveness that I try to inject into many of my poems. How far I succeed or not is up to the reader to decide.😉

It is Christmas Eve and, in the Spirit of Christmas, I want to thank you all for looking in on my blog posts and poems, it means a lot to me.

All that remains, for now, is to wish you all safe, well and hopeful always. Sadly, the ways of the world and human nature are such that this is not always the case. Even so, we can but keep looking on the bright(er) side of life and do our best to spread happiness, comfort and joy along the way; rarely easy, yet we can but try.

Whether we celebrate Christmas or not (I don’t) may the spirit of Christmas - one of hope, peace and kindness - be with us all.

Oh, and yes, I am working on a new poem, so do drop by again soon.

Take care, folks, whoever and wherever you are.

Hugs,

Roger

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

PS Many thanks to those readers who take the trouble to point out any print or spelling errors in some of my poems; I always take note, re-read the poem as it appears on the screen and make any necessary amendments.

Hey, it's Snowing!

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"If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?" - Percy Bysshe Shelley

"Laughter is the sun that drives winter from the human face". - Victor Hugo

"Autumn arrives in early morning, but spring at the close of a winter day." - Elizabeth Bowen 

"Advice is like snow - the softer it falls, the longer it dwells upon, and the deeper it sinks into the mind."- Samuel Taylor Coleridge

Now, winter can be a cold, miserable season, especially as we grow old, comfort and joy over festivities relatively short-lived. Yet, the simple sound of children having fun building a snowman can warm the cockles of even the most sceptical heart among us…if we but make time to let it.

As much of the UK experiences its first winter snowfall, even many a disgruntled commuter and shopper is also  discovering that it is better to take snow in their stride and wear an infectious smile than be a miserable so-and-so, adamantly refusing to look on the bright(er) side of life...😉

HEY, IT’S SNOWING…!

Gardens covered in snow
trees all-a-glitter in the morning sun,

Everyone moved by the view
from a cosy indoors
until they need to venture outside
to go to work, school, 
whatever the reason, now having 
to do battle with a freezing winter’s day,
come what may

Motorists menaced by fog
obscuring even the sharpest vision;
icy surfaces demanding
extra care, pedestrians under no less
threat of injury from falls,
especially the old and frail, welcoming
a steadying hand now and then
as sudden, bursts of the white stuff strike 
young and old alike 

A thin spread of ice on ponds,
and lakes inviting, but best avoided
for safety’s sake,
better to build a snowman, sounds
of fun and laughter
warming the cockles of hearts worldwide
seeking respite from the cold,
looking to engage with sunnier memories
to relax, find peace

Inner eye, following footprints in the snow
where spring flowers are preparing to grow

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Poetry Live

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'There is a pleasure in the pathless woods,
 There is a rapture on the lonely shore,
 There is society where none intrudes,
  By the deep Sea, and music in its roar;
  I love not Man the less, but Nature more…’ - Lord Byron [Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage]

“Beauty awakens the soul to act.” - Dante Alighieri

“Equality is the soul of liberty; there is, in fact, no liberty without it.” - Frances ‘Fanny’ Wright

“Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.” - Carl Sandburg

Now, yet another a reader asks why I write poetry “…in a world where, let’s face it, poetry is considered ‘old hat’ by most people?”  Most people, perhaps, but certainly  not everyone , given that blogger stats confirm this blog alone has had 212.000+ views since I started writing it up about 10 years ago; my gay-interest poetry blog, too, has had 160, 000+ views.

Nor is poetry 'old hat' in schools, as some people suggest, including a good many schoolchildren; it has its place, among all the arts, on the learning curve that is life

If just one reader enjoys a poem and it gets them thinking about, not necessarily agreeing with its contents… well, that is reward enough for any poet.

For me, all nature is’ live’ poetry; the more people enjoying it and thinking about its contents, I suspect the chances are the more likely they will want to play their part in keeping it alive for generations to come. Combating climate change, for example, is more than a rescue mission for the survival of humankind, but for a natural world that existed long before us and deserves better from us. Even the most indefatigable resilience  can be worn down over time, especially by circumstances (and people) working just as indefatigably against it, knowingly or otherwise.

POETRY LIVE

Sunlight creeping through my window
roused my eyes to a far cheerful awakening
than an unhappy dreaming had led me
to expect, a welcome surprise after a night
of mind-body-spirit’s being tossed about
on such feisty, restless waves of broken sleep
as left heart-and-soul crying out for rescue,
growing more fearful of no help ever happening 
until it heard a skylark singing

Encouraged and inspired by Apollo’s
first kiss on the grassland where it nested,
it rose to greet the morning on wings
of a song bringing a sense of love and peace
forever crying out to be found
among shadows silenced by human fears,
left chasing the sun by day, moon
by night, invariably made to make do with echoes
of wishful thinking for centuries

Ah, but the Here-and-Now can see me
through whatever, if I will only but let it catch
a shadow or two, give the echoes
haunting mind-body-spirit substance enough
to make even half a dream come true,
much as the arts endeavour to do in music, 
poetry and painting, a creative therapy
inspiring such kinder life forces as it always will
an all-embracing heart-and-soul

For every human shadow, may its silences be heard
as pleas for peace around the world

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Bells, Messaging the Spirit of Christmas

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“Christmas… is love in action. Every time we love, every time we give, it's Christmas.” - Dale Evans

“If there are occasions when my grape turned into a raisin and my joy bell lost its resonance, please forgive me. Charge it to my head and not to my heart.” - Jesse Jackson

“Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind.” – ‘Kris Kringle’ in the movie, Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.” - ‘Scrooge’ in Stave 4 of  A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

“The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.” - Matsuo Basho

During my first winter term at Junior School, (some 70 years ago…oo-err!) a teacher asked what we most enjoy at Christmas. “Presents, sir!", more than half the class yelled. One boy simply put his hand up. When the teacher indicated for him to speak, he said, “I enjoy it because people are much nicer and kinder.” “A good point,” said the teacher with feeling, “I daresay many people would agree with you about other religious festivals as well…” He then changed the subject, but I wasn’t the only one left reflecting on his words… 😉 

As regular readers know, I became as disillusioned with most religious leaders and world religions as with most  politicians and world politics generally over the years, and now think of myself as a Pantheist. 

Now, having written and enjoyed reading poetry for as long as I can remember, I have tried to write a Poem for Christmas that reflects the common spirit of world religions, an all-embracing inclusiveness often found wanting in the interpretation of various dogma associated with them. And, no, I do not exclude Christianity. 

Although I respect anyone’s religious Beliefs, I reserve the right (as regular readers will also know) to agree to differ…

BELLS, MESSAGING THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS

Bells! Ringing out the same message
over centuries of fear
and pain, ringing out yet again
to remind the world
of such love and peace for all souls
striving, even fighting 
for peace of mind, but wishful thinking 
among any made to suffer hate and hypocrisy
poisoning a common humanity

They know, the bells, and feel our pain
as and when we struggle
to rise above it all, find peace and love
within each other,
endeavour to let the world know, for all 
its many differences,
that 'Love rules OK' and will find a way
to make its presence plainly and believably told,
no LGBT folks, left out in the cold

Hear the joyful sound of Christmas bells,
sending a message 
of peace, hope, love and goodwill 
to a common humanity,
men, women and children, no exceptions
for gender, ethnicity 
or sexual identity, celebrating heart-and-soul
of You-Me-Us by drawing on its multiple voices,
addressing the Spirit of Christmas

It's an all-inclusive You-Me-Us, a new generation,
acknowledging the kinder side of being human

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

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

Highs and Lows

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"Time changes everything except something within us which is always surprised by change."  - Thomas Hardy 

" Life is your see-saw. You may not stay balanced long, but you can aim for a high after every low. Sanita Belgrave

"What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it's curved like a road through mountains." - Tennessee Williams

“Painting is silent poetry, and poetry is painting that speaks”. - Plutarch“

Now, most, if not all of us, get to experience the highs and lows of life as we progress; anyone, at any age, from any walk of life. At the time, the lows may well seem insurmountable, but trust the human spirit to see us through, and see us through, it invariably well, all the kinder and quicker with the love of and help from those who care about us. Whatever, like it or not, life is a learning process; we can learn and progress or be in denial and risk being unable to move on…

Common sense, do I hear you say; nothing new, heard it all before…? Almost certainly, yes, and definitely from yours truly. Even so, knowing something and acting on it are two sides of the same coin, as we all know only too well. To be sure, we may flip the coin and it gives the wrong message. Ah, but if, even just a part of us recognizes that it is not answer to our problem, we need to trust heart-and-soul to message mind-body-spirit to…flip the darn coin again, and again… until it comes up with what it senses is the right message. Thereafter, we can feel confident about confronting our problem/s and working them through to a kinder end than when we first flipped the coin… and be reassured that, if things take a turn for the worse at any stage, we can always blame it on that old standby ‘fate’… wry bardic chuckle

Many a time have I tossed that coin and, many a time, blamed ‘fate’ for not helping me bring whatever mess I happen to be in to a hastier, more ‘successful’ conclusion. But… success, of course, is relative and getting out of whatever mess we may have fallen into - invariably down to ourselves, however inadvertently, from start to finish - well, that’s a successful outcome, and don’t let anyone tell you any differently who may have judged you for getting into a mess in the first place.😉

Creative therapy, in any shape or form, is a sure way to help us sort our thoughts, give us a new, more positive perspective on life. How can I be sure? Why else do you think I have turned to writing – especially poetry – since schooldays…?  I may not be famous, in any ‘celebrity’ sense, but, believe you me, having reached my late 70’s is a personal success story. We all have them, it’s as my mother once told schoolboy Roger, on my failing an important exam: “That’s what life is all about, dear, picking yourself up and starting all over again.” 

 I didn’t ‘get it’ then, and was sceptical, to say the least, but I certainly ‘get it’ now! wry bardic grin

HIGHS AND LOWS

It’s our early years
that help shape the rest of our lives
taking on perceptions
of family and friends, wondering where
and why a rainbow ends,
open to such fairy tale explanations
as will lay the foundations
of a worldly rhetoric appearing to offer answers
that leave us asking more questions

In our middle years,
we stand at a crossroads in our lives
taking decisions,
learning about their consequences, taking
responsibility for them
(or not, as the case may be) mixed feelings
throwing us into a confusion
we can shrug off, prepare to bluff our way through
or put mind-body-spirit under review

In our later years,
we may look back with anger, regret, 
even degrees of shame
for paths unwisely taken, mistakes 
haunting mind-body-spirit,
yet comfort, too, for heart-and-soul’s capacity
for learning from them all,
nurturing personal space, the wiser and more mature
for the nature of its past-present-future

For better or worse, in brush strokes on a live canvas,
find home truths that are the be-alls and end-alls of us 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022 

Lines on the Politics of Personal Space

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“Friendship improves happiness and abates misery by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of out grief.” Marcus Tullius Cicero

 “We are all different. There is no such thing as a standard or run-of-the-mill human being, but we share the same human spirit.” – Stephen Hawking

“As an anthropologist, I believe strongly in our common humanity. We can rise above the tribal divisions that have caused so much anguish and real damage in the past.” - Alice Roberts

“Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact”.  -William James

Now, In many ways, today’s poem-post continues yesterday’s theme/s. 

Many people, especially LGBT + folks, including yours truly, have been very disturbed and upset by the banning of rainbow armbands on the pitch during the World Cup in Qatar in support of diversity  and Human Rights; even fans wearing similarly supportive headgear have been told to remove it before entering the ground. Even so,  this action by the authorities  - including and backed by FIFA - has possibly brought the subject  even more to the fore of people's minds across the world than was intended; an own goal, so to speak, by Qatar.

Oh, and one cannot help but admire and applaud the Iranian football  team's bravery for refusing to sing their national anthem by way of making a similar protest.. Hopefully, they will not be subjected to abuse by the Iranian regime on their return home...

As regular readers will know, and some share the sentiment, growing old(er) can be heavy going at any age; either the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak or circumstances cause us to lose heart altogether and depression sets in. Somehow, we have to find our own way to rise above certain everyday ups and downs that challenge us all. (No, never easy, but… we have a choice?)

I recently had a bath lift installed after being unable to get out of the bath for a good thirty minutes some weeks ago, due to mobility problems.😀 A walk-in shower might have been suitable for some, but not someone like myself who needs to be extra careful not to get water in my ears due to perforated eardrums. After being trapped that first time, I did devise a strategy for getting in and out of the bath, but involved a degree of acrobatics that was an accident waiting to happen. Now I feel safer. 

Two close friends were a huge help and supervised my first attempts. They helped boost my patience and self-confidence to the extent that today I managed my first unsupervised bath, using the lift with no one around to help even if I needed it. Sounds simple enough, I know, but nothing is simple once years of hormone therapy for prostate cancer have messed with your thought processes. Yes, I experienced a few teething problems today, but at least I will find the next time I take a bath, a less scary and more relaxing experience.

We all need help sometimes, just as we all need to find our own pace for doing whatever, despite the pace of modern life threatening to leave us behind for one reason or another. 

Well, let it threaten; the human spirit is not easily put down… not for long, anyway, despite any temporary put-downs…

LINES ON THE POLITICS OF PERSONAL SPACE

Life is making the most of its seasons,
growing older, hopefully wiser to the tricks
time so loves to play on us all,
mind-body-spirit continuing to engage 
with an enduring heart-and-soul, 
endeavouring to keep us on the right track,
no matter such ways of a world
that would have us playing deaf, blind and dumb 
to the Politics of Outcome

It’s a tried and tested mind-body-spirit
needs to keep drawing on the native patience
at its command, constantly encouraging us
all to stay true to an evergreen heart-and-soul
urging we engage with patience, 
such patience as will see us through tough times,
head held high, resolutely refusing 
to be cowed by such ways of the world as see many
feeling defeated and empty

The world may well have its reasons,
temptations, and calls to You-Me-Us to comply,
though heart-and-soul cries out
to defy, ignore, turn a deaf ear, no matter
any alternative desires;
wiser by far to steer through troubles and strife,
follow the road map our senses
assure us will lead to far kinder, better times in store,
well worth waiting, working for...

Such is the gift of heart-and-soul, to a shared humanity,
if but the patience to devise a winning strategy

Copyright R.N. Taber, 2022

Hi, folks, from London UK

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"Peace cannot be achieved through violence; it can only be attained through understanding". Ralph Waldo Emerson

“It is far better to endure patiently a smart which nobody feels but yourself than to commit a hasty action whose evil consequences will extend to all connected with you.” - ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

“And sure enough, even waiting will end...if you can just wait long enough.” ― William Faulkner

"Never cut a tree down in the wintertime. Never make a negative decision in the low time. Never make your most important decisions when you are in your worst moods. Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come." - Robert H. Schuller

Hi, folks,

Yet again, I am working on a new poem; the spirit is as willing as ever, but it is a grim looking morning outside and inspiration is not yet quite ready to compensate for it. 😉

A bad night with the prostate cancer hasn't helped; even though it was not diagnosed as aggressive back in 2012, I was not prepared for years of broken sleep. Even so, I continue to feel encouraged and inspired by so many people across the world having to endure far worse circumstances then yours truly, not least the homeless and dying.

Many years ago, at school, I studied Shakespeare's King Lear for A-level GCE Exam; I was only studying two subjects, the other one was French, and I needed to pass both to go to Library Schools - for which I had been conditionally accepted. I failed the French exam, not once, but twice because my oral was not up to scratch. I was devastated and and left school in 1964 with no clear idea of what the future had in store for me. In those days, relatively few people understood homosexuality and were even less tolerant of LGBT+ folks than many still are.

It was King Lear that came to my rescue. Of all the wonderful quotes to be found in Shakespearean texts, perhaps the least likely, but one that has seen me through some tough times all my life, has been from Act 2 where Lear, raging against the cruelties of daughters, Goneril and Regan, cries:

"You heavens, give me that patience, patience, I need...!"

Now, I am a Sagittarian and it would take me another 12 years to get a university degree  and eventually qualify as a graduate chartered librarian, during which time, I needed to draw on far more patience than comes naturally to anyone born under a fire sign...

Generally speaking, attitudes towards LGBT+ folks then left much to be desired and, for a variety of reasons, I stayed in a dark, lonely closet for more years than I care to remember. Slowly but surely, attitudes are changing as more people begin to appreciate that sexual identity is not a matter of choice. 

As I have said on previous posts, one of the greater tragedies of modern life is that many world societies and religions have no understanding of the LGBT+ mindset; in my case, it was this that led to a nervous breakdown in the late 1970'swhich would ,in turn, lead to lead to my coming 'out' and starting the gay poetry blog.

Oh, but I do indeed owe King Lear, more than I could have dreamed or hoped for way back in my schooldays...!  wry bardic grin

So, too ,'new' reader, K W, who dismisses my regular use of quotations prior to the main body of my poetry-posts as "a load of literary b- shit" may understand why we must agree to differ...?

Bye, for now, dear readers, and I hope to be back with another poem very soon.

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: this post also appears on my gay poetry blog today.] RT

Needs Must...

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“There is something in the human spirit that will survive and prevail, there is a tiny and brilliant light burning in the heart of man that will not go out no matter how dark the world becomes.” - Leo Tolstoy 

“We are all different. There is no such thing as a standard or run-of-the-mill human being, but we share the same human spirit.”- Stephen Hawking 

“All the art of living les in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” - Havelock Ellis 

“In solitude the mind gains strength and learns to lean upon itself.”- Laurence Sterne

“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” - Mark Twain

Now, as I grow old, especially perhaps as I live alone, I find myself taking greater meaning and strength from such common idioms as ‘mind over matter’ - the more so as even everyday tasks become more difficult and take much longer. 

As regular readers know, ten years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer have really messed with my thought processes and memory generally. Even so, I find that exercising my mind even just by writing this blog and composing poems helps to lick some of those rogue thought processes into better shape in much the same way as physio exercises help the body.

I used to get so angry with myself - and with time itself - for the way I am. However, by the time I have taken a deep breath, begun to appreciate that I am still alive to tell the tale and how there are many people of all ages and walks of life in far worse circumstances than mine, I invariably calm down and give myself a severe telling-off for feeling sorry for myself rather than attempting to rise to whatever challenges present themselves in the Here-and-Now. 

From feeling lost in a wilderness, the decision to not only look for a way out, but finding one is music to deaf ears…

NEEDS MUST...

Within a mind-body-spirit
common to all humanity, a space
that’s ours alone to fill,
no matter how circumstances appear
to conspire against us
motivating our strengths or preying 
on some native weakness, 
known only to the heart-and-soul, urging us
to make wiser, kinder choices

Whenever circumstances 
make such demands of us as choices
are blurred by feelings
nurtured, cherished within inner selves
and painful to ignore
or even betray, then mind-body-spirit
may well fall apart, 
the faithful heart hurled into such confusion,
no real harm meant, much done

Needs must, we but trust
the inner self to know us way beyond
whatever faces society
may well often require us to wear if only
a façade for fear of being
made to feel, left out of things, unable
or afraid to raise a voice
in protest at this or that buzz of conversation
causing us consternation

The inner self knows us better
than we think we have got know ourselves
while journeying 
through the glorious and less glorious
passages of time, a wisdom 
beyond the confines of worldly demands,
licking us into shape,
an experience as defining an affinity with nature
as its past-present-future

As we pass through the seasons
of life, so mind-body-spirit aids and abets
our adapting to the changes
they ask of us, calling on heart-and soul
to call, in turn, on a native
willpower making us capable of far, far more
than we may have imagined, 
till needs must we rise above misgivings and pain;
no small part of being human

Copyright R N Taber 2022