A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...

Thoughts and observations by English poet Roger N. Taber, a retired librarian and poet-novelist.- "Ethnicity, Religion, Gender, Sexuality ... these are but parts of a whole. It is the whole that counts." RNT [NB While I have no wish to create a social network, I will always reply to critical emails about my poetry. Contact: rogertab@aol.com].

About Me

Name: R. N. Taber

Location: London, United Kingdom

Sadly, a bad fall in 2012 has left me with a mobility problem, and being diagnosed with prostate cancer the same year hasn't helped, but I get out and about with my trusty walking stick as much as I can, take each day as it comes and try to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. Many of my poems reflect the need to nurture a positive-thinking mindset whatever life throws at us.

Friday 24 October 2014

Potential for Inspiration

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

A colleague once remarked, not a little facetiously, that poets think they have the answer to everything.

Oh, but I wish!

At school, some 50+ years ago, my English teacher, Mr Rankin, (a Scotsman) once commented to the effect that life is all about discovery, and that is all about asking questions. 'Stop asking questions,' he told us, 'and you might as well be dead.'

Oh, but YES.

So what is life all about? Why are we here? Different people, different answers, but it’s asking the question that counts, and makes us who we are.

POTENTIAL FOR INSPIRATION

What is life, but to have lived at all?

What is death, but all we‘ve not missed?

What is love, but to have loved at all?

What is beauty, but its flowers in a mist?

What is desire but to know desire at all?

(What is loss but by its light never kissed?)

What are dreams, but a life unfulfilled?

What are regrets, but art’s timelines?

What are hopes, but the inner eye’s take

on seasonal colours?

What is life, but to have lived it all?

What is death, but refuting all we missed?

What is love, but to have loved it all,

the beauty of its flowers in a spring mist?

What is desire, but to have desired it all,

loss but shadows where its light has passed

in a dream, the stuff a common humanity

lets pass for peace where its regrets run

with its hopes along timelines recording

art’s penchant for copycat?

In being moved to ask just one question

lies the potential for inspiration

Labels: answers, human, identity, imagination, inspiration, life, nature, personal, philosophy, poetry, potential, questions, raison d’être, searching, spirituality, unknown