Top Dog

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

““Politics is war without bloodshed while war is politics with bloodshed.” Mao Tse-tung

"Human beings are born with different capacities. If they are free, they are not equal. If they are equal, they are not free.” Alexander Solzhenitsyn

"Cry Havoc!, and let slip the dogs of war." (William Shakespeare (Julius Caesar)

Now, world politics thrives on half-truths and straight-faced lies. Vladimir Putin’s pre-war denials about Russian military exercises bordering Ukraine amounting to preparations for an invasion and no cause for alarm bells to be ringing around the world...are clearly a classic example political strategy.

The bad news is that such strategies are as common to the darker side of human nature as the air we breathe; the good news is that the majority of us can taste its poison on the tongue and spit it out, hopefully before it can do any mind-body-spirit irreparable harm.

TOP DOG

There are places we can run
whenever conscience pricking us
to flee criticism,
even retribution in some cases,
where a wisdom
of years and its learning processes
have lost their way,
led us astray into a maze of its intentions
and our own ambitions

Mind-body-spirit finds itself
pitted against its own kind, resolved
to assert itself
one way or another, no reasoning
with morality
for exploiting vulnerability in any shape
of form, so long
as left alive to tell the tale, the world agog
at its being top dog

Ah, but few top dogs succeed
without help from allies in thought, deed
and end-game;
the latter achieved, among its spoils,
those same allies, eager
for a place in archives of human history,
found blighting as many
landscapes of so-called 'peace for evermore'
as battlefields of war

Who seeks to know where angels fear to go,
needs but follow the trail of a human ego 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Past-Present-Future, Chameleon on the Doorstep

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

I well recall the father of a friend, way back in my childhood, relating how much satisfaction he took from giving local puppet show, “not only in making kids happy, but being in control, manipulating his puppets towards that very end. Sometimes,” he added with a wry grin, I feel like a god out there, pulling the strings..."

The tragedy is that the attraction of power and the potential opportunity to ‘play God’ attracts too many in the adult world for all the wrong reasons...

Terrorists are probably the best examples of such people, convinced they are acting with the best intentions, albeit (literally) as a devil in them drives, but they appear in all shapes and sizes in most if not all areas of modern life, wherever the better part of human nature is inclined to lose its way, often without even realising it.

PAST-PRESENT-FUTURE, CHAMELEON ON THE DOORSTEP

I come in peace, a force for good,
yet am often abused, ill-used by those
unable to channel the full force
for better rather than worse, opening
personal space to private ambition,
Time left to make of what it will,
if not any final say, given all history’s
various ways with words, not to mention
measured invention

I bring hope where weaker forces
sure to fail, yet so easily misunderstood,
misled even into enemy territory,
where mixed feeling would threaten
to confuse issues, take control
for illicit purposes harbouring agendas
comprising a measured tissue
of lies that will, to all intents and purposes
tick all the right boxes

I offer stability wherever promising
enterprises are in danger of foundering
along with all invested interests;
at the same time, I am easily tempted
to play the hero, persuaded even
by my own convictions that any potential
for universal gain has to come
before settling a lasting peace and happiness
upon my personal space

I dress the bones of history with flair,
who am that old chameleon, Power

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2012; rev. 2021

[Note: The original version of this poem was written in 2009 and was first published under the title ‘The Designer’ in my collection, Tracking the Torchbearer, Assembly Books, 2012.] RT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kingdom Come, an Eco-Artist's Impression

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

Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2010

While  the coronavirus is not on the wane everywhere just yet, and second waves of it are all but inevitable, climate change is unlikely to go away at all; we only have to look at what is happening in Iceland to see how real is the threat that has been looming across the world for years, and underestimated - if not conveniently put to one side - by successive world leaders. A reader asks, do I think Covid-19 could be linked to climate change? Well, I have no idea, any more than I suspect has anyone else, but I wouldn't be surprised ...

What are we doing to the planet? How many more trees must be felled, wildlife lose their habitats (and lives) on land and in the seas before humankind realizes how short sighted it is being? (The old adage is so true, that we rarely - if ever - appreciate what we have until we lose it.)

Will future generations forgive us? (I suspect with great difficulty, if at all.)

It is all very well to acknowledge global warming, but how much longer can we shrug off any blame for it? it? The time to make reparation is by positive action NOW, surely? How many more world conferences and all but meaningless gestures before our politicians risk upsetting this lobby or that and get to grips with the longer-term consequences of playing ostrich?

Too lightly, many people continue to brush such questions and issues aside. After all, they argue, there is plenty of time to save the planet.

Ah, but is there…? It is an old but significant truism that time waits for no one.

Yes, our politicians claim to empathise with Green campaigners, but could they perhaps do (far) more to back up their word with actions…or could it be they are but paying lip service to increasing electorate (and business) concerns?

At school, I once overheard my Religious Education teacher refer to Armageddon as 'the death of  common sense' to which my art teacher commented that it would be an appropriate theme for graffiti art among the corridors of power just about anywhere in the world. 70+ years on, I am inclined to agree with both.

How dare our so-called 'betters' be complacent, close their eyes to unpalatable home truths for fear of losing out in the short term. Too many politicians are hot on rhetoric, at election times in particular, but - as always - the devil is in the detail, and invariably less convincing for anyone who has the time or patience to shovel away  at the rhetoric and see what lies beneath..

Another reader wrote in recently to ask, "We are a common humanity on a common Earth so where is any sense of common responsibility regarding Green issues?"

KINGDOM COME, AN ECO-ARTIST'S IMPRESSION

The sky is red

where once it was blue;

trees turning yellow;

streams, trickles of blood

on a baby's cot...

Time, caught taking a nap

in Earth Mother’s bed

The forest is dead

where once trees grew tall,

birds would nest,

one beast best another

as required…

by nature’s rule of thumb,

its kingdom come

The world, gone quiet

where once people played,

would laugh and sing,

yet sure to best one another

as required …

by nature’s rule of thumb,

our kingdom come

The sky is red

where once it was blue;

trees, turning yellow;

Earth Mother last heard of

treading mud,

weeping the world’s playing

Truth or Dare...?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

The Dresser OR Contemporaneity, lead Figure in a Docudrama

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Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2012.

I have to agree with Prime Minister, Boris Johnson, when he recently declared his his objections to our trying to 'photoshop out' the worst aspects of our cultural history; as bad or ugly as it may well have been sometimes, we need to be reminded of it if only to avoid making the same mistakes.

As for pulling down statues and editing out any media footage that might cause offence, we need to remember that they are products of their time. We cannot and should not deny history, but nor should we dress it up with what amounts to fake news once we start cherry-picking those aspects we prefer to emphasise because they put us in a kinder light.

Regarding some public statues, it is, I suspect, the inscriptions they bear more than the sculptures themselves that cause offence; honouring those, for example, whose financial contribution to society at the time was not least on the back of their being slave owners. Slavery was an abhorrent, inhuman practise, and we should never be allowed to forget that. While I support the Black Lives Matter movement, I would prefer to see the darker aspects of any cultural past confined to a museum rather than provocatively placed in a city centre or wherever and/ or inscriptions changed to reflect those elements of historical fact that dont deserve to be celebrated. At the same time, I have to say that it is a GOOD thing that inequality and prejudice have been given a public platform in the course of recent events; hopefully, we will see world and society leaders take appropriate action to tackle social injustices that have no place in a 21st century.

It has been my experience that certain social, religious, cultural and, yes, even sexual elements of human nature are inclined to conspire against us (supposedly for our own good) in order to establish themselves in this or that driving seat; not infrequently, they choose to ignore that, ultimately, there can only be one driver, who may may well choose to take an alternative route. 

Such is the nature of the human ego that it can be something of a control freak ... as and when it suits. Nor does anything bring this home perhaps than when browsing archives, not least those, relating to family history; reading and capturing the imagination like a docudrama portraying human nature at its best and worst, strongest and weakest, all-enduring despite (even because of) the very flaws that comprise it.

“The most effective way to destroy people is to deny and obliterate their own understanding of their history.” - George Orwell 

“Study the past if you would define the future.” - Confucius

“The great force of history comes from the fact that we carry it within us, are unconsciously controlled by it in many ways, and history is literally present in all that we do.”
- James Baldwin,  The Price of the Ticket: Collected Nonfiction 11948-1985

This poem is a kenning.

THE DRESSER or CONTEMPORANEITY, LEAD FIGURE IN A DOCUDRAMA

I come in peace, a force for good

yet am often abused, used to make war

on lesser forces unable to resist

the strength of my will giving ambition

and determination their way;

for good or ill, time will have its say

and those, too, who endure

the wait to see if they can (ever)

put their trust in me 

I bring hope where weaker forces

sure to fail, yet can be misunderstood,

seen as an enemy, threatening

to take control for my own purposes,

harbouring a secret agenda,

a measured tissue of lies and half lies

an impenetrable camouflage

for self-interest convincingly ticking

all the right boxes 

I offer stability where foundations

of enterprise are in danger of collapse

along with all invested interests;

yet, I am easily distracted in playing

the hero, even persuaded

by my own convictions that any potential

for universal gain has to be better

than settling for less on the grounds

it bring happiness 

Personal Assistant to that chameleon, Power,

I am charged with dressing history with flair 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Lead Player in a Docudrama' in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

Raining Stones

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

I have always tried to keep abreast of significant world events and record at least some of them in my poetry. As I compile e-editions of my collections - containing revised poems as they already appear on the blogs - I am adding any poems here that are not currently accessible and may be of interest. 

On 19 March 2011, a multi-state NATO-led coalition began a military intervention in Libya, ostensibly to implement United Nations Security Council Resolution 1973, in response to events during the Libyan Civil War. 

Muammar Gaddafi, the deposed leader of Libya, was captured and killed on 20 October 2011 during the Battle of Sirte. Gaddafi was found hiding in a culvert west of Sirte and captured by National Transitional Council forces. He was killed shortly afterwards. 

The poem below was written as civil war raged in Libya, rebels losing ground to pro-Gadaffi forces...while the rest of the world debated whether or not to intervene; it appeared on the blog at the time, but was later removed due to lack of interest; it appears in my collection, the following year. 

At the time, and being gay myself, I also posted the poem on my gay-interest poetry blog since LGBT Human Rights have long been repressed in Libya. Indeed, since the fall of Gaddafi's regime in 2011, the status regarding homosexuality in Libya remains unchanged. It is high time world societies and communities got real and came to terms with the fact that a common humanity embraces all human nature of which a person's sexuality is fundamental? LGBT folks mean no harm to anyone, deserve better than many stereotypes circulating for years suggest, and simply ask to get on with our lives in peace, just like anyone else.

RAINING STONES

The cry goes up for deliverance,

for humanity’s sake,

from a tyrant’s stony arrogance

Pride plays Lord of the Dance,

(wheels of diplomacy creak);

the cry goes up for deliverance

Across Libya, thousands chance

their very lives to break

from a tyrant’s stony arrogance

United Nations looks on askance

(arguing what action to take);

the cry goes up for deliverance

Dare justice make an appearance,

freedom’s hold re-take

from a tyrant’s stony arrogance?

Oil politics drives Europe’s stance,

(U.S. up for a stake);

the cry goes up for deliverance

from a tyrant’s stony arrogance

[London: March 10^th 2011]

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

[Note: This poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Behind Every Coffin, Another Question

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Here's another poem from one of my collections as I begin to compile editions that will include revised poems (already on the blogs) for posting as e-books; revised versions of my poems are already on the blogs, but not all my poems so, as requested by some readers, I am adding them now.

The the courage of armed forces around the world cannot be disputed nor their loyalty to the country they serve, but what of those responsible for deploying them wherever its politics dictates or rather, the politics of whatever party dominates its corridors of power...? Do men and women in the world's armed forces die for their country or to satisfy some hidden, even personal agenda creating a nasty draught in those same corridors.?

Political leaders often have a hidden agenda, that much emerges from their choice of words when called upon to explain or justify their actions, although proving it is invariably another matter...

Oh,  and what of all the innocent men, women and children caught up in conflicts over which they have precious little (if any) say or control? The media may well speculate and those directly affected by the consequences of conflicts around the world will debate in huddles on street corners or - more likely - behind closed doors, and so it goes on,...behind every coffin and injury, questions rarely answered to anyone's complete satisfaction.

BEHIND EVERY COFFIN, ANOTHER QUESTION

We salute the fine men and women

redeployed to fight in the safer interests

of their country, those not returning 

kept safer still in the vaults of memory

We salute the fine men and women

redeployed to fight in the safer interests

of their country, acts of friendly fire

but tragic accidents waiting to happen

We salute the fine men and women

redeployed to fight in the safer interests

of their country, trust any returning

shall feel no insult added to injuries

Who leads in the corridors of power,

redeploying troops in the safer interests

of their country, and by what criteria

does its politics prefer to define ‘safer'?

Who leads in the corridors of power,

redeploying troops in the safer interests

of their country to fight shadows

not into killing by any natural rules?

Who leads in the corridors of power,

redeploying troops in the safer interests

of their country, pledging solidarity

in its newspapers, on radio, and TV? 

What say we to the men and women

redeployed to hell in the safer interests

of their country since no politician

can tell anyone what is really going on?

Behind every question, another coffin

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

 [Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

[Note: Revised (2013) from the original as it appears in print  eds., 2012]

Travelling Hopefully

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

Are the freedoms we enjoy being gradually eroded by invisible (and visible) Mandarins or Kingpins of Power?

Wealth is power, yes, but so is  influence and many who put themselves forward as our so-called ‘betters’ have plenty of that across the entire  socio-cultural-religious and political arenas  in which we live.

Free speech, yes, so long as it is not considered politically incorrect and that seems to be decided these days by which side of a particular divide one happens to be.

I am no racist. Neither, though, will I hesitate to speak out against bad attitude or behaviour no matter what colour, creed, sex or sexuality a person may be. Yet, the chances are – as has happened more than once – that I will be called a racist, feminist, bigot (for not subscribing to a religion) etc. etc. I am none of these things, and it goes against the grain not to speak out against someone whose behaviour I find offensive simply whatever their colour, creed, sex sexuality or political persuasion and, yes, even age. (My own generation can be a real pain in the proverbial at times.). Even so, I have to confess to having kept my feelings to myself more often than not in recent years simply to avoid the inevitable hassle. Is that common sense, I wonder, or simply cowardice?

Feedback over years of writing poetry and publishing much of it on the Internet suggests that many people from diverse backgrounds feel much the same way, that there are times when we are made to feel like puppets, poised to speak our minds until a jerk on invisible strings by some kingpin puppeteer advises if not demands our silence or, at best, extreme (diplomatic) caution…or there will be a price to pay.

I will be 72 this year, and I am becoming less and less enamoured with the world as it is now with each passing day. At the same time, I retain a basic faith in human nature, convinced that if we all try and do our best in our own little corner of the world, the ripples will spread to the extent that  it may yet become a better, kinder place no matter what goes on in its  socio-cultural-religious and political arenas.

There are more good people in the world than bad, people for whom peace and love are more, far more, than just rhetoric; it has always been that way, and always will be. Sadly, it has always been the more malevolent Kingpins of Power that, in getting away far too often with pulling our strings, continue to make their presence felt and voices heard.

So will tomorrow be a better day, give brave new worlds an opportunity to flourish? Hope springs eternal... (Yes, sometimes it may be well better to travel hopefully than arrive, and be disappointed, but can anything come even close to comparing with the joy of arrival when he/she/it means the fulfillment of our sweetest dreams...?)

TRAVELLING HOPEFULLY 

Yesterday, a dark mood

descending into a recent grave

created by fall-out

from crises (local and worldwide);

even near comprehension,

of mind- body-spirit all but broken

by political forces alien

to free thinkers everywhere left

ploughing moral high ground,

slaves to this or that philosophy,

whatever cap fits…

Slaves, yes, bound to rebel

against those siding with kingpins

of wealth and power jockeying

(discreetly) for a prime position

in the greater  influence stakes,

claiming to have the best interests

of common humanity at heart

(local and worldwide) while nursing

such personal ambitions as likely

to go down as well with the media

as raising taxes

Today, no lighter mood,

rising among the ghosts of leaders

past and present to remind

those of us (local and worldwide)

why we helped put them there

(if only by default, considering

the alternatives on offer)

no matter gossip buzzing like flies

in corridors of power

about which  kingpins  plotting

whose downfall…

Kingpins of power, yes!

Always ready to load our excuses

on their backs under a cloak

of invisibility to avoid pricking

consciences of crusaders

(local and worldwide) for a way

of life less complicated

by a sense of kingpins composing

the poetry and prose

of destiny on our behalf, and we

having little say

Tomorrow, we will nurture

a more positive mood, rise above

rise above dark thoughts

about any Kingpins of Power

undermining us

at every step we take as we journey

through life…

reassert a native self-confidence,

an enduring spirituality

taken from natures, religion, either

of both (free to choose)

Free to choose, yes,

whether to have faith in ourselves,

(conceding any flaws)

and keep to a learning curve of love,

personal aspiration,

private ambition, social responsibility,

discerning wood and trees,

drawing in the best of whatsoever

and whomsoever

we may find, as we seek completeness,

journeying hopefully

Hopefully, yes, humankind

and nature working together to play

any Kingpins of Power

at their own game, introducing  mind,.

body, and spirit,

working in harmony, all the better

to see light triumph

over darkness, good over evils no one

can deny exist,

a legacy of enduring peace and love,

no end-game in sight

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017

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

W-A-R, Crucible of Remembrance

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

Now and then, I receive emails from ordinary men and women who have lost loved ones in one or other of the world’s a war zones, and seek peace of mind.

Every death deserves a poem. Sadly, though, the Muse cannot keep pace with it all. As for peace of mind, there is little enough of that to be found in a war zone, whether it be in Ukraine, Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan, Gaza…wherever.

Let us give some thought, too, to the survivors of those life-or-death battles around the world in which involvement they may, rightly or wrongly, take pride, while I suspect they, like the rest of us, can but struggle to find words to justify it all. Oh, plenty of excuses under cover of various socio-cultural-religious-political camouflage, but justification in real (human) terms...?

We should also bear in mind, of course, that we are all but human beings trying to do what we think is right; there are casualties on both sides of any conflict, their loved ones, too, left behind to try and pick up the pieces of a fragmented life.

Tragically, while love may well nurture dreams that last forever, the world’s power-hungry vultures from various quasi-cultural/ religious/political backgrounds are inclined to do the same for its nightmares.

W-A-R, CRUCIBLE OF REMEMBRANCE

Blood on the grass, blood on the mud,

evening skies spilling the blood

of dying and wounded on sand, on sea,

sacrifices meant to set the world free

Blood on the hands helping comrades

to call out and challenge Hades;

blood on the pillow, blood on the sheet

where love’s worst nightmares meet

Blood on the ceiling, the lamp shade too,

bloodshot eyes still weeping for you;

bloody, the colour of your lips and warm,

defying nightmares to save a dream

Blood on the grass, blood on the sands,

rites of passages no one understands;

though it shed blood (in whatever name)

to a common humanity, the same dream

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2014

(Other) Secret Agendas OR Ongoing Repair Work in Fractured Societies

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Who needs aliens? You don’t have to be paranoid to imagine shadowy figures in the world, not only treading its corridors of power and conspiring to access our own living rooms but which will almost certainly bring us to the very edge of Armageddon one day if only to give humanity a final push and send us all into freefall…from which only a select few are likely to survive.

The public face of the world leaves much to be desired. Thank goodness then for those people from all socio-cultural-religious backgrounds ever bent upon exposing misleading stereotypes and  redundant traditions to help bring the whole socio-cultural-religious ethic into the 21^st century regardless of the risks to their personal safety from die-hard bigots, religious fundamentalists, and those faceless mandarins that have stalked the corridors of power for centuries whose primary concern is self-interest.

No one person can change the world, but if everyone but does their best in their own little corner of it, hopefully the ripples will spread…

(OTHER) SECRET AGENDAS or ONGOING REPAIR WORK IN FRACTURED SOCIETIES

Secret agendas,

writing treaties in various tongues

on a mother’s heart,

smiling at young lovers cavorting

in comic strip cartoons

Secret agendas,

providing a eulogy for the failures

of its multi-cultures,

observing how occupied territories

live on empty gestures

Secret agendas,

inciting revolution among dreamers

who would face facts,

repair broken words to make good

well-heeled intentions

Secret agendas,

dropping lovers in black holes blown

by would-be martyrs,

sending letters home written on scraps

of roadside shrapnel

Secret agendas

shooting down deaf-blind stargazers

for darker centuries

than this, light years on since we first

let battle commence

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008, 2014

A Short History of the Human Race

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2014 marks the 100^th anniversary of the outbreak of World War 1. While it is only right that we should remember all those who fought and died for world peace along with millions of unsung others caught up in the conflict one way or another, we should perhaps reflect upon how various socio-cultural-religious divides have caused conflicts through the ages, and continue to do so.

If wars are all about winning the peace, remembering that has to be making sure peace prevails, surely? Or what has it all been for, apart from killing innocent people, greasing the palms of arms dealers, promoting political rhetoric and profiling humankind’s inhumanity towards its own? [World leaders of all socio-cultural-religious persuasions, please note.]

When will they every learn? When we ever learn...?

This poem is a villanelle.

A SHORT HISTORY OF THE HUMAN RACE

Coursing centuries,

blood of angry ancestors

cancerous war cries

Wherever they rise,

venom of our adversaries

coursing centuries

Kingdoms, dynasties,

playgrounds for predators’

cancerous war cries

A pot-pourri of lies

camouflaged in scriptures

coursing centuries

Socio-political policies

(sovereign ears and eyes)

cancerous war cries

Drawing on prejudice’s

bottomless well of tears;

coursing centuries,

cancerous war cries

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

Playing Dirty, the Politics of War (and Peace)

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It has to be one of human nature’s greater ironies that it invariably deflects the greater blame for its worst tragedies away from itself.

It is called politics.

It is probably fair to say, though, that most if not all of us are no less guilty sometimes than those who tread the Corridors of Power.

PLAYING DIRTY, THE POLITICS OF WAR (AND PEACE)

Last seen standing on the edge of war,

strutting bravery, dreaming of glory,

no conception of carnage gone before,

rewriting, in blood, a nation’s story

Heads high, eager to answer duty’s call,

faith let fly in the wind, flags unfurled,

no one suspecting how many might fall,

prayers unanswered around the world

Victory (as ever) fell on time’s sword,

eleventh hour, day, month, 1918;

no action-replay, we gave them our word,

only to break it again and again…

Heroes, on Time's sword called upon to fall
for the sake of Peace and Goodwill (to all?)

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2018

[Note: Revised (2016) version of a poem that  appears under the title 'The Rhetoric of Blame' in   Accomplices to Illusion, by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

Maelstrom

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

[Update: (April 8th 2017) Our hearts and thoughts go out today to the families and friends of those killed and injured in the horrific attack yesterday in Stockholm on innocent people going about their daily lives; it is being described as an act of terror. It is being widely reported that a man arrested has sympathies/links with so-called Islamic State. Yet again, decent people everywhere, from all socio-cultural-religious backgrounds, stand firm with the people of Sweden against the threat of terrorism from whatever misguided source.]

[Update: (March 24th 2016) This poem was written in 2007. Since then, the world the world has become and increasingly more dangerous place, not least due to the spread of radical Islam which we should never mistake for true Islam.  The horror of recent events in Brussels is nothing new to us. Yet, while our hearts go out to the families and friends of those so cruelly and senselessly killed simply for going about their daily lives, we must stand firm against these psychopaths, and not let fear dictate how we choose to live; our choice, not theirs.]

Some people, not only but especially religious fundamentalists, are inclined to get carried away by the prospect of martyrdom and welcome it; more often than not, this is a direct result of being mentally groomed and/or emotionally blackmailed into a deluded way of thinking by power-hungry leaders who (naturally) prefer to stay alive. 

The true martyr does not seek martyrdom for personal (including spiritual) gain but for the sake of honourable principles on which he or she refuses to compromise; there is no honour in taking and/or destroying the lives of innocent people.

Who deliberately seeks martyrdom to make a point, however important (to them, at least) deserves our contempt, yes, but perhaps also our pity? Pity for their having become mere tools in the hands of those they see as 'betters' but who, in reality, have surrendered their humanity to a distorted sense of and lust for power, both temporal and spiritual.

Fundamentalism is a threat to world peace, the more when it promotes martyrdom as a glorious ideal.

This poem is a villanelle.

MAELSTROM

No crueller wisdom

or faith more blindly placed

than in martyrdom

Life‘s tragic outcome,

love’s sacred trust misplaced;

no crueller wisdom

No prouder kingdom

better served by want and waste

than in martyrdom

By a beating drum,

each sound heartbeat replaced;

no crueller wisdom

No glory closer come

to grief, by holy words defaced,

than in martyrdom

Magnificent maelstrom,

supposedly to God’s door traced;

no crueller wisdom

than in martyrdom

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2016

[Note:  This poem has been revised (slightly but significantly) from the version that appears in Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; revised version in e-format in preparation.]

Where A Monster Feeds

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

[Update (March 29 2017) Today, Theresa May triggers article 50 of the Lisbon Treaty to take the UK out of the EU. Now, I love Scotland. Why, I keep asking myself, does the SNP think it is better for Scotland to remain under the EU yoke when it would be better off having greater powers devolved to the Scottish Parliament from Westminster (as Theresa May has already implied may well happen)? As for trade, Scotland gets more revenue from trading with the UK than with the EU. Scots (who live in Scotland) whom I have spoken to don't want to see the UK break up so I can only hope that Nicola Sturgeon's obsession with  Independence continues to be seen as NOT in Scotland's best interests by the majority of  those who will be left to carry the proverbial can.]

[Update (June 24 2016): In 1975, I voted in favour of an economic union with the rest of Europe (EEC) not the political (not to mention extortionist) shambles it has become. So, yes, I am delighted that Britain has now voted to leave the EU. There are likely to be both economic and political storms ahead, and we must weather those. Hopefully, though, we will see a rainbow in the longer term, followed by more sunshine than showers. Whatever, the Remain and Brexit camps need to put their differences aside, not bear grudges, and work together; not only for the good of the country, but also of Europe as a whole. Let's not forget that Britain is a part of Europe, always has been and always will be.]

[Update (May 2016): Some readers have been in touch to ask how I feel about the forthcoming UK referendum about staying or leaving the EU. While the poem on this page makes my feelings clear at the time, these are much the same. As far as trade is concerned, EU countries need ours just as much as we need theirs. Regarding security, it is NATO keeps us safe, not the EU. Indeed EU insistence on freedom of movement puts everyone’s security at risk; it is clear the lack of border controls encourage terrorists to infiltrate genuine refugees. However, it is the fact that Turkey is likely to join the EU at some future date that is the deciding factor for me.

In February 2016, two Turkish men aged 22 and 23 who stole an ice cream and a bag of salted sunflower seeds from a classmate when they were 14 and 15 year-old schoolboys were  jailed for 13 years each after a trial lasting eight years. The incredible sentence, for robbery, was passed down by the court even though the victim had never even complained about the matter to police; it was only raised by teachers at the school in Istanbul who were hoping to scare the two boys.

I have no problem with Islam (except the homophobic attitude of many who subscribe to it although that applies to many if not most world religions) but like the rest of the civilised world, I have a problem with radical Islam. The Turkey of today is fast becoming a radical Islamic state; if and when it is admitted to the EU, I fear for the increasing spread of radical Islam Europe-wide.]

Update (June 2016): A good case for BR-EXIT can also be found on You Tube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTMxfAkxfQ0

Now, the banks may be mostly to blame for the credit crunch that first opened its jaws in 2008, but the real monster in the eyes of many Europeans (including myself) is the European Parliament.

The eyes of the world may well be on Greece and Italy at this moment in time, but they do not stand alone where the Economics of Power and Politics of Blame are (frequently) seen to rear their ugly heads....

Dare I suggest there is a need to tame the monster to save the Euro? In other words, there needs to be a cull of its more corrupt and/or inept elements...

This poem is a villanelle.

WHERE A MONSTER FEEDS

Eurozone, in Debt’s dark lair,
struggling to reassure the world;
Europeans, fighting despair

Crisis an ascending stair,
stability, a high risk password;
Eurozone, in Debt’s dark lair

Political in-fighting clear,
Brussels, a theatre of the absurd;
Europeans, fighting despair

Its ineptitude stripped bare,
too few voices of reason heard;
Eurozone, in Debt’s dark lair

Flushed out of devious cover,
MEPs, for jobs running scared;
Europeans, fighting despair

Even the Economics of Power
found wanting on Paradise Road;
Eurozone, in Debt’s dark lair.
Europeans, fighting despair

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011