Tide, Turning

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

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul and sings the tune without the words and never stops at all.” – Emily Dickinson 

“Love is a springtime plant that perfumes everything with its hope, even the ruins to which it clings.” – Gustave Flaubert

“Life begins on the other side of despair.” - Jean-Paul Sartre

Now, we never feel so alone as when we despair, for whatever reason. It is an awful feeling, a sense of being adrift and close to drowning in personal space; at least, though, it gives human nature an opportunity to come into its own and set out to prove that mind-body-spirit can do better… if we but give it a fighting chance.

TIDE, TURNING 

All but drowning,
voices asking only that You-Me-Us
re-engage, left struggling 
to keep mind-body-spirit abreast
of vital life forces
separated from a heart-and-soul
gone absent without leave, 
adrift in personal space, seeking a lifeline,
to be restored, forgiven

All but drowning,
half-heartedly attempting to keep pace
with other fishes in a sea
of mixed feelings, pulling me this way
and that, a fickle tide
now consenting to keep me afloat,
now dragging me under,
arms, legs, putting on a show of emulating
the lesser art of living

All but drowning,
vague voices assuming greater clarity,
like a new moon’s rising,
penetrating even the cloudy darkness
of a mind-body-spirit
war-weary of ways of the world,
lost all faith in humanity
nor trusting promises of divine intervention,
yet...stirrings of motivation?

Positive thinking,
tide turning, a sense of its siding with me,
stinging like a sea anemone
but not fatally, as if issuing a challenge
I’d be a fool to ignore,
reminding me there’s no sense in giving in
without at least attempting
a kinder endgame, a chastened heart-and-soul
stepping up, getting real

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

Endeavour

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“I endeavour to make the most of everything.” – Victoria Woodhull

Art is born of the observation and investigation of nature. – Marcus Tullius Cicero

 “People must feel that the natural world is important and valuable and beautiful and wonderful and an amazement and a pleasure is not what you look at, but what you see.”  - David Attenborough

Now, overheard in a local supermarket recently:

1st speaker: “I look at the world we live in these days and it’s so ugly, I sometimes wonder why I bother getting up.”

2nd speaker: Sunshine and birdsong are enough to get me out of bed. They fill me with hope, in much the same way as art sometime can. And hope has such a beautiful voice.”

1st speaker: (scoffs) Huh!

How dare anyone scoff at nature, the poet in me raged. None so blind as will not see. An ugly dog looked up at me as is to reply with such beautiful eyes that I gave myself a good telling-off for initially thinking it ugly. Indeed, I smiled and said “Hello, doggie” to which it wagged a friendly tail and his owner, a complete stranger, gave me a grin that clearly said, “Too right, he’s a beauty…” 

Nor is it only beauty that is in the eye of the beholder; surely, nature has lessons to teach us also, if only we care to let mind-body-spirit watch, listen - and learn...?

ENDEAVOUR

I was like a thwarted stream,
despairing of ever flowing free again,
being at one with a world fairer
by far than it may seem at first glance - before
heavy rains came, left me a prisoner
of myself, time passing through a sad heart
like the trickle of a stream
struggling to find a way past a sudden rockfall,
answer its main flow’s frantic call

Progress, slow but sure, a familiar,
voice in my ear urging I find a way to ease
ts pain, let it be whole once again,
as nature first intended before blue skies
filled with angry clouds
bent on letting rip with a heavy rain,
as if expressing tears of pain  
and disappointment in nature and human nature
increasingly at odds with each other

South wind, strong enough to shift
a few unsettled rocks, enough to let a trickle
run free, eventually reunite 
with its main flow, not quite as vibrantly
as before, but time yet to prove
worthy of serving the needs of natural
and human worlds, 
whither they may yet go, as driven by life forces
plotting their courses over centuries

Heavy rains, they come again, again,
eventually make way for clearer skies, if less so
than we might wish, distracting
ourselves by having singing and dancing chase
dark fears away as haunt 
such dreams as have us negotiating streams
of consciousness, no less vulnerable 
to rockfalls than any other or less able to negotiate,
nature and human nature, ready or not 

The beauty of nature embraces a spirit of endeavour
that's our our mentor, too, and joy forever...

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Hi, folks, from London UK

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

The great thing about growing old is that you don't lose all the other ages you've been." - Madeleine L'Engle

"Age is a question of mind over matter; if you don't mind, it doesn't matter." - Mark Twain

Hi, folks,

Yes, I am working on a new poem, but had such a BAD day yesterday, that I hadn't the emotional energy (let alone inspiration!) to even take comfort in a poem; a day that left me in tears for a growing frustration with losing the proverbial plot from time to time. Yesterday left me feeling emotionally drained for generally losing the kind of plot that appears to thicken - for some if not many of us - as years pass and we grow old...😉

The author of the plot?  My onetime friend, now long-time mischief maker, new technology. While I just about cope with internet banking, I am invariably at a loss when it sides against me and, try as I may, I cannot get it to follow my reasoning and do as I ask! Yesterday my secure key would not work. 

Eventually, I staved off panic by solving several word puzzles - invariably guaranteed to calm me down and help me rise above just about any crisis - and made my way to my bank; its local branch having closed down some time ago, I needed to travel. I don't drive, so chose to use London Underground as I am still wary of (always) crowded buses and having to sit next to someone who is not wearing a face mask.

At the bank, I was given a new secure key in a folder and told to visit the web page indicated in the folder.  I returned home, confident that all would soon be well. Alas, the web page simply took me to my usual page for internet banking, which I could not access because... yes, my secure key would not work!

I returned to the bank, approached a different person who gave me alternative information which, I could not quite follow; my fault, due to muddled thought processes, probably as much down to getting old as years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer. Having barely left the bank, I now returned to try and get help from someone who could show me what to do on a pc. Although it meant a long wait, it was well worth it, as the young man who finally saved my day proved to be very patient as well as well and truly on the new technology ball... 😄

Once home, I failed yet again to log on to my internet banking account. Yet again, I returned to the bank where the same young man took me through the process of activating my new secure key, a process I hadn't quite understood but managed to follow due to his patience and demonstration on a pc. (I had almost got it right at home, but pressed a wrong button.!)

Home again, I solved two word puzzles to calm myself and distract me from the dread of yet another failure to access my internet banking account....

Once more unto the breach, dear readers once more, and... Eureka, success! I needed to transfer funds to another account, and was able to do so without a hitch.😁

I suspect I am not the only person struggling with IT these days, which is why I am sharing this sorry tale... for its happy ending, not my own failings. I was embarrassed, it's true, but the need to achieve my goal got the better of that, with more than a little help from the young man at the bank who, on a scale of one to ten, deserves ten out of ten for his patience with this ole codger. I could not thank him enough, for restoring peace to my personal space as much as access to my internet banking account... 

Another poem, tomorrow, folks, so hope you will join me again then.

Take care, stay safe and be sure to nurture a positive-thinking mindset whatever life throws at you. Never easy, but...we have choice? wry bardic grin

Hugs,

Roger

Where there's Life...

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

“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

“Survival is not so much about the body, but rather it is about the survival of the human spirit.” – Danitra Vance

Reader, C. P. has emailed to say she is elderly and fears that the invasion of Ukraine by Russian forces, as ordered by Vladimir Putin, may lead to a third world war, given Putin’s animosity towards NATO and its okaying supplies of military hardware to assist the beleaguered Ukrainians. She adds that she is in her 80’s and well recalls the devastating effects of WW2 on natural and human landscapes worldwide.

What can I say, but that, hopefully, Putin will have more sense than Hitler and temper any such thoughts and ambitions with due caution? We cannot anticipate any mind-body-spirit, only let our hopes get the better of our fears and get on with our lives, take each day as it comes, focus on staying as cool, keeping as well and being as happy as we can.

Whatever tomorrow has in store for us, we can but wait and see. Meanwhile… all the while, mind-body-spirit continues to engage with heart-and-soul, we may not always feel as complete as we would hope, but at least all the better for remaining as yet unbroken…? 

WHERE THERE'S LIFE...

There is a rising tide across the world
in the cost of living (in more ways than one)
all walks of life, no exceptions...
increasing violence on the streets, 
in the home, hard to explain
various theories as to why it, oh, so often seems
we only dare feel safe in our dreams

A coronavirus pandemic has hit a world
already struggling to contain its fears, rage
and despair as the rich
appear to be getting richer even faster
than the poor getting poorer,
those caught in-between left confused and vexed 
as to what on earth we can expect next

Yet, true to say that where there’s life, hope
may well lie bleeding from wounds made by stabs
of harsh uncertainties
at a mind-body-spirit all but left for dead
by the host heart-and soul
that's overlooking the protective nature of life forces 
primed at birth to do battle with our enemies

Mudflats, home to various living organisms
watched over and duly inspired by Earth Mother
in the art of weathering tides
and other natural elements, reminding us
how all creatures great and small
face daily battles for survival, nor will the stronger win,
but those set to let natural life forces in

Wars, within and without lines drawn in mud,
sand, urban streets, even landscapes where luxury
is byword and keyword…
are fought with know-how strategies
and inborn resolve to expose
the stuff of which we're made for living, such life forces
as the power of love and freedom inspire in us

Win some, lose some, to all intents and purposes,
life and death as likely as not to make its own choices,
heart-and soul finding peace,
even in the thick of battling dark forces
for kith, kin and country, a sense 
of what’s right on its side, inner selves, an all-prevailing 
rallying call, our conscience, motivation and guide

Though freedoms won and lost at the toss of Time’s 
worn coin, we can but trust in Earth Mother and our own
sense of justice, forever to remain,
however tough the going may get, trusting
mind-body-spirit to find ways 
to inspire us, firing heart-and-soul into rising above it all,
cheering us on to (eventually) score a winning goal

Though nature and human nature lose out time and again,
the Landscape of Hope but awaits a healing rain

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

[Note: I have rewritten both the title and closing couplet to this poem after several emails from regular readers confirmed my own misgivings. Any emails, by the way,  should be addressed to rogertab@aol.com with. 'poetry' in the subject field.] RNT

Resilience

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

“Grief and Resilience live together.” - Michelle Obama 

“I can be changed by what happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it.” – Maya Angelou

 As the war in Ukraine enters its 4th week, the resilience of its people continues to leave the rest of the world agog, not least its chief architect, Russian president, Vladimir Putin, who had clearly underestimated the full force of Ukranian resistance.

Indeed, I imagine Putin could well be found guilty of war crimes at some later date, and deservedly so, given that Russian troops appear, time and again, to have deliberately targeted the civilian population; men, woman and children - old, young, the sick and disabled alike.

Such are the horrors of war; so, too, for many, - on a lesser, if no less significant scale to those involved - the trials and troubles of everyday life, even in so-called peace time. More often than not, the spirit of resilience asserts and re-asserts itself, allowing heart-and-soul to overcome the worst, learn to live with it, strive for better times and win through...for others, if not always themselves.

RESILIENCE

As the burden of life on me grows,
so, too, a sense of responsibility to myself,
as much as loved ones and others,
to see it through, to an end often requiring
a compromise of sorts,
while not letting heart-and-soul lie broken
by hurricane forces,
but standing firm to even the worst of all weathers 
to the best of native endeavours

As time continues to wear me down,
would even uproot me from my place of birth,
I can but draw on such gifts
of nature as let a robin sing in bleakest winters,
spring but the likes of dreams away
as inspire human beings to survive a bitter cold,
young and old alike,
engaging with a collective mind-body-spirit to sustain
hopes of rediscovering peace again

Like the willow that bends with the wind,
I vow to survive, for myself as much as loved ones
and others caught up in storms
inflicted by nature and human nature worldwide,
though they underestimate what may lie
behind appearances, often deceived by an apparent
vulnerability, easy prey
to a determined enemy, likely to be caught out in its turn
by the steely stare of self-preservation

Always ready to lend an ear, and more,
to any distress call from heart-and soul under siege
and deserving better, no matter how
or why, although the Here-and-Now as it affects others,
especially as close to home
as some will be, may also affect shape and degrees
of such help as I can rally,
the better part of humanity needing to prove up to the task
without putting itself at too great a risk

Meanwhile, amongst chaos and destruction I dare to battle on
for such peace as offers a collective salvation, and my own...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

Hi Folks...

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

Hi folks, 

Yes, me again in London UK. I've been having a bad day with the prostate cancer and mobility problems, so just dropping by to let you know I hope to post a new poem tomorrow. More to the point, perhaps, is that it helps provide a better quality of sleep if I can stay up a bit later rather than go to bed earlier, however exhausted I might feel. My sleep will still be interrupted (ole Prostate will see to that) but the chances are I may well sleep more soundly between toilet interruptions.😉

Several readers have emailed me to ask just how the cancer affects my quality of life. Well, it certainly does Q o L no favours, but  worrying and hinging about anything never did anyone any favours wither, so as I have said before, I keep nurturing as positive-thinking a mindset as I can (most of the time) and try not to dwell to much on Q o L being in decline and adamantly refusing to measure it on a scale of one to ten... or I would probably burst into tears. 😉

I can at least count myself very fortunate in so far as I remain free of Covid-19 and its variants, although I sometimes wonder why I have been spared so far when far more deserving folks and families have lost loved ones. I live alone, after all, have no family to speak of and, yes, friends would miss me and I them, but it's hardly the same as losing a life partner or close relative...

Such are the ups and downs of life, neither rhyme nor reason to many of them; we can but do our best to overcome the latter and move on, although, as I have said many times on the blog, moving on means leaving no one behind who has contributed to better, kinder, happier times... such memories never die, continuing to support and inspire us even as we struggle to put any hard times behind us.

Oh, yes, I really do practise what I  preach or the prostate cancer and other health issues would have  seen me laid out on a mortuary slab years ago...😉

As I'd invariably I hit hard times when I was younger, I would think myself into a positive frame of mind, look and drive myself  into forward-thinking mode and devise a plan of action (of sorts) rather than start feeling sorry for myself.; after all, travelling hopefully has always had the advantage over going nowhere fast. 😉

Although I have reservations about coronavirus precautions being relaxed next week here in London and much of the UK, especially with a new Omicron variant doing the rounds,  I took the plunge recently and ventured farther afield than usual, taking the London Underground  to have lunch with an old friend in a favourite pub. We enjoyed catching up over a meal and several pints. I only allowed myself one pint and two half pint glasses of Guinness, but had a bad night all the same. Even so, it was well worth it; if friendship and good conversation requires the occasional sacrifice, so be it...😉

Well, time to bid you all "Goodnight" here in London and many thanks again for your supporting the blog and giving me a good reason for getting up in the mornings during the pandemic, not forgetting your motivating me to write poems, among which I hope you will enjoy some, at least, and feel lighter of heart  for reading them as I do for writing them. Although my poems attempt to convey various shades of nature and human nature, I always try to end on a  positive note. Well, it has to beat the alternative, yeah...? 😉

Take care, dear readers, and keep well,

Back again tomorrow with (hopefully) a new poem that is proving a devil to get right,

Hugs,

Roger

Enough is Enough

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

Why is it, I wonder, that many world leaders are only just waking up to the threat of climate change and facing up to their responsibilities, at least as far as gathering material for speeches intended to impress the electorate is concerned; sadly, much of that same electorate remains under the illusion that global warming is some kind of capitalist conspiracy propagated by those most likely to gain from it.

 If it is a rule of thumb never to underestimate one’s adversary, never was it more of a truism than in the context of humankind v nature; in the longer term, at least, and – let’s face it – as far as our time here on Earth is concerned, it’s the longer term that really matters. 

How can those of us who so love to engage with the natural world excuse years of  failing to speak up in its defence... albeit, until now, any protests have fallen on deaf ears and/or justify such in the name of 'progress' or (worse) leisure interests? Yes, that's human nature and better to progress than regress...but  we can hardly expect nature to keep paying the price it is expected to pay without making any protest.  

There comes a time when, for any of us, enough is enough; for Earth Mother, I suspect that time is now;  humankind needs must to make reparation before it is too late.... if it is not too late already. Hope, though, springs eternal and they do say "Better late than never." 😉

ENOUGH IS ENOUGH

Oh, world of love and beauty,
nature’s glory all around;
sadly, a devil’s cruelty in Man’s
own story found

Oh, world, such creatures in it
of every shape and colour;
Man, bent on killing off the planet
for an easy dollar

Oh, Eden, long since abandoned,
History repeating its mistakes;
lion kings in eco-zoos, mercenaries
raising the stakes

Oh, world, defying an ozone crack,
beware! Nature’s fighting back...

Earth Mother, inclined to cut up rough,
"Enough is enough...!"

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001; rev. 2021

[Note: This poem has been slightly but significantly revised since it first appeared under the title 'Global Warning' in an anthology – A Celebration of Verse, Anchor Books, 2001 - and subsequently in my collection, First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2001.]

 

Classroom Politics OR Extinction Rebellion, Getting Real

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OVERHEARD in a local Supermarket: 

MAN: “Don’t talk to me about climate change. If you ask me, it’s a load of rubbish. Youngsters, today, huh! Never happy unless that can find something to whinge about. Take this Extinction Rebellion lot, a bunch of troublemakers if you ask me...” 

WOMAN: “I’m not so sure. I mean, well, what do any of us actually know about what’s causing such high temperatures in Greece, wildfires in Australia, worsening weather conditions all over...?” 

MAN: “Oh, well, the planet’s here to stay for a good while yet, so time enough to worry when and if the time comes, that’s what I say...”

When and if the time comes...? Better to be safe than sorry, surely? The sooner we all start doing our bit to save the planet, the better its chances of survival... and ours. That’s what yours truly says, thinks, and tries to practise what I preach as best I can...

The poem below was written over twenty years ago, and my inner ear told me even then that young people were already beginning to express various Green and Climate concerns. They are much older, now ,of course, ad it is good to see the next generation actively expressing much the same concerns...

CLASSROM POLITICS or EXTINCTION REBELLION, GETTING REAL

Murmurs in the classroom
smack of revolution

Stuck in front of a television,
well able to tell fact from fiction,
the problem being,
where on earth to draw the line
between what we love
to watch over endless cups of tea
while and rejecting
whatever it may be giving us cause
to suspect our sense of pleasure more than
a shade unhealthy

Murmurs in the classroom
smack of revolution

Made to sit back and watch
our home planet being set upon;
little if any regard for nature
whose best interests are ill-served
by those of Big Business
despite any public relations exercise
performed by Fat Cats
keen to exploit media attention,
all the better to disguise a hidden agenda
of mass destruction

Murmurs in the classroom
smack of revolution 

Copyright R N. Taber 2001; rev. 2021

[Note: This poem was first  published in my collection, Love and Human Remains, Assembly Books, 2001; it has recently been slightly but significantly revised, August, 2021.]

 

Hello again Everyone, from London UK

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

Hello again from London UK.

A reader, P R writes to say that “I am a strong-minded person, but am struggling with depression even though I have tried to stay upbeat throughout the pandemic. What the hell is happening to me...? I am ashamed to say I feel nervous, even scared much of the time, and it’s not the kind of person I am or want to be..."

Firstly, I am not doctor, so I urge this reader to make an appointment to see their GP and ask his or her advice asap.

Secondly, there are many men, woman and young people in much the same position, having to deal with such feelings as they may well never have encountered before with such intensity.

Never estimate the power of stress over mind-body-spirit; if left to fester, it can be crippling. likely to leave even the strongest and most upbeat among us feeling like putty in the hands of invisible forces bent on doing us harm. It’s called depression, and there is no shame in falling into the various, nasty emotional traps it has set humankind since its earliest beginnings.

Rarely has the modern world seen such devastating effects on its population as Covid-19 and its variants. Parents, whether trying to keep their children distracted from the full force of lockdowns or helping them with schooling and/or preparing for examinations that have taken a whole new shape during the pandemic, many schools and colleges forced to close.

Children and young people have been stressed out, unable to see their friends, deprived through no fault of their own of a social life and all the trimmings that we associate with being young, eager to explore and enjoy all the pleasures they would normally expect to be on offer.

Yes, Covid restrictions are being lifted for most age-groups here in the UK, especially those people who have had both Covid vaccinations, BUT the coronavirus hasn’t gone away and it remains a threat to many if not most of us; there is no room for complacency while cases continue to rise in certain places and communities. Yes, variants are said to be less serious than the original virus, but serious enough to hospitalise a significant number of people, if not to the extent we have seen worldwide at its various speaks.

Societies and communities worldwide have a collective responsibility to do their best to keep the pandemic on the run rather than encourage a repeat performance. Most people agree, yet there are still a significance number who refuse to wear a mask in busy areas or shops, on public transport etc. simply because it is “advisable” but no longer a legal obligation. Yes, some people are exempt from wearing a mask for medical reasons, but there are plenty who - from the start - have refused to wear a mask for no other reason than personal preference. I ask you, how selfish can some people, be?

Wearing a mask might not prevent a person from catching Covid-19, but it can – and still does – help prevent the spread of it.

I am not unsympathetic to reader P R, believe me. I share much the same feelings a lot of the time, but struggle to rise above them as best I can; an anti-depressant helps as does writing poetry; the latter not only distracts me, but sends my thought processes along far better routes than they might otherwise have been persuaded to take.

As I have said before on the blog, anyone for whom any form of creative therapy appeals to mind-body-spirit, especially if they find themselves struggling (for whatever reason) they would be well-advised to give it a go...

That’s all for now, folks and apologies if I seem to be repeating myself a lot these days. I’ll be back with a new poem soon.

Take care and let’s focus on nurturing a positive-thinking mindset... whatever everyday life throws at us, yeah? Yeah!

(Digital) Hugs,

Roger

Past-Present-Future, Ringing the Changes

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

Overheard recently, two macho-looking guys pausing to light cigarettes while wheeling prams on a Saturday morning: 

1^st man: “I’m sick of hearing about climate change and how we all need to all do our bit to save the planet. It’s been us against the planet for thousands of years and it’s still messing with us, but we’re still here and so’s the damn planet so... what’s the problem? We’re survivors, right? I mean to say, you’ve only got to see how far we’ve come. I mean, it’s History, right, moving forward and all that? History isn’t suddenly about to put the brakes on, well, is it, I mean to say...” 

2^nd: man: (Shrugs) “History is as the likes of you and me do, I guess. We’ve got things wrong in the past and you only have to listen to The News to know we’re still not getting everything right. (Shrugs again) So maybe we need to take a long, hard look at what we are doing and start pulling together instead of trying to put one over on each other all the time... 

Babies start crying 

Both men (Laughing): “Saved by the bell!” (Moving on) 

What can I say? Two machos wheeling prams and Climate Change getting a look-in has to be good start... right?  Or... yes, what...? 

PAST-PRESENT-FUTURE, RINGING THE CHANGES 

No wind in the trees,
not even the lightest of breezes
to cajole human ears
into listening out for ethereal voices
expressing peace, love,
and that old standby, hope, waiting
for mind-body-spirits to call
them in from as bitter and lasting a cold
as lives but left to grow old 

No flickers of light,
nor even the faintest hint of sun,
moon or stars
to suggest the planet is even alive still,
or else as indifferent
to pain inflicted by its own sense
of crisis, as its better parts
to the pleas of a collective consciousness
for a greater self-awareness 

World, keeps turning,
all humanity ringing its changes,
meaning to sing is praises
while being put through its paces sooner
than later, a nagging need
to keep up appearances taking priority
over its harsher realities
rather than demand its global powerhouses
confront certain home truths 

Re-awakening, the spirit
of past-present-future configuring
human history,
doing its best to fire such engines as keep
a global consciousness
more in step with a common humanity
than have its vanities
see those home truths continuing to mutate
by way of political debate 

Now, feeling, the lightest
of breezes come to reassure me
that I, Reasoning may yet
get the better of all human nature seeks
to divide and let fall,
any picking up and reworking left
to an innate mind-body-spirit
encouraged by regenerative powers of nature
(ill-defined by human history.) 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

 

 

Hello again, from London UK

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

Hello again, from London UK

No poem today, but I hope to have one ready for you fairly soon. I don't expect everyone to like every poem, of course, but I feel encouraged that many of you continue to stick with this struggling senior as, like many of you, I struggle with all the changes in everyday life that the coronavirus has imposed. 

A reader asks if I practise what I preach with regard to nurturing a positive mindset. Well, I do my best and manage to do so most of the time, but like all of us, I have good days and bad days.  I can only speak from the perspective of an old codger living alone; different people will have different problem. Partners will have each other to share any difficulties with, but in the kind of circumstances imposed on us by the coronavirus, tempers may well fray. Families will have encountered a different spectrum of problems altogether, especially those with young children. For many if not most  older children and young people, not being able to mix with friends and peers will have been a waking nightmare.

Now, living alone and growing old ain't easy at the best of times. Everything takes so much longer and I get tired so much more easily. Everyday tasks - like stripping a bed and turning a mattress - are a challenge; it takes me ages to replace a duvet cover now too.😊

I coped well with the first lockdown here in the UK, but the latter stages of the second were a nightmare. I often felt lonely, and scared too, a though the latter has more to do with the hormone therapy for my prostate cancer as it can have that effect on some people sometimes. An ear infection and mobility problems haven't helped. So, how do I cope with it all...? Well, better some days than others, that's for sure.😉 

I try to keep reminding myself that there are so many people in the world so much worse off than myself, some of whom I know personally. I tell myself that if they can cope, so can I. Writing up the blogs and posting poems when I can has been a godsend; it distracts me not only from my own problems, but the whole coronavirus scenario. I think everyone needs to find ways of distracting themselves from any personal problems anyway  (coronavirus or no coronavirus) whether it's pursuing a hobby or just watching a favourite video/ TV programme. Me, I avoid News programmes apart from catching up with the headlines. While I am interested and concerned about what else  is going on in the mad, mad world of ours...there is just so much a person can take when so much of it is so depressing.

Now, although lockdown restrictions are being lifted here in the UK, we still have to deal with the threat of a so-called Indian variant, already prevalent in parts. Yet again, all we can do is take care, and (yes!) nurture a positive thinking mindset. We won't always succeed, but just trying can make all the difference.

As I have said on past blogs, I honestly think a healthy diet is a huge help when it comes to dealing with stress.

At the end of the day, of course, we are all different and needs must find our own way through our own waking nightmares. As my mother used to say, though, we should never be afraid to ask for help, never think anyone will think the worse of us for doing so. Each of us, in our own way is, vulnerable; if counselling is not an option and there is no close friend on hand or at the end of a telephone, call The Samaritans. Even simply talking (or writing) about our worst fears can give us an entirely new perspective on them. If I had confided my problems with being a gay man so someone years earlier, I may well have avoided a nasty nervous breakdown in early 30's.

What else can I say for now but... good luck everyone, and bear in mind that most of the time it's down to each and every one of us to make our own luck... or not, as the case may be.

Take care, everyone, and many thanks for dropping by.

Hugs,

Roger

PS In the course of transferring about 1000 poems to a memory stick (so far unpublished except on the blogs) I have significantly revised more earlier poems that you will find in the blog archives. Do feel free to browse now and then, and I hope any revisions (including some titles) will meet with your approval...but won't be offended if they don't. 😉

Winterworld OR In Anticipation of Spring

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

I have often commented on the blogs how love takes on all shapes and appearances; love of family, friends, places, whatever aspects of nature and human nature that can be relied on to bring out the best in us, distance us from anything less. 

A reader writes that “Such positive thinking is all very well, but “… it’s only a theory, so typical of a poet. How, in practice, can it see we ordinary human beings through the likes of a pandemic or such intense personal crises as any of us are likely to experience at any time in our lives?” 

Well, the short answer is that there isn’t one, only as many to choose from as there are aspects of human nature. 

Regular readers will know that, some 40+ years ago, I attempted suicide, so great was the crisis I needed to confront that I felt I couldn’t even make a start, and what was the point?

The point was, of course, that we all need to confront our fears; running away (as regular readers will know I have often done) solves nothing. Somehow, that same ‘theory, so typical of a poet’ found a way through my unconscious self, and I awoke long enough to seek medical help. 

The next four years were a waking nightmare, but such support as I hadn’t expected from certain work colleagues, friends and various professionals saw me through it all. Finally, I found myself taking up the threads of everyday life again, starting a new job, and waking up each morning without mind-body-spirit feeling all but overwhelmed. 

I had a garden in those days. Birdsong, through such summers as were almost as bad any winter, helped me in ways I had no way of understanding until, some years later, I began writing poetry again, something that had seen me through such childhood crises as haunt me still, not least for my never having understood those either. 

While I suspect few if any of us ever (quite) understand ourselves, I like to think I have at least learned (better late than never) that we human beings can do a lot worse in life than take our cue from all the natural world has to offer, not least by way of making the best of and surviving even the worst of its wintry elements.

Many thanks for dropping by the blog, folks, always much appreciated,

Hugs,

Roger 

WINTERWORLD or IN ANTICIPATION OF SPRING 

I spied a starling
flying low, seemingly heading
for a tearful tree,,
the name of which species
escaping me,
the archives of my memory
all but running
on empty, so intense the toll on me
of everyday anxiety 

Barely skimming
the tree’s uppermost branches,
starling appeared
to have a last-minute change
of mind, taking off
in another direction altogether,
as if sensing
little (if any) welcome to be had there,
no rising above despair 

I spied a redbreast,
wings a-flutter in the bitter wind
like a flag of hope
among snow clouds spreading
mixed emotions
among various generations below
for anticipating
multifarious joys as snowfalls may bring,
or yet more suffering 

Alighting on a branch
of so woebegone a tree as appears
struggling so
to stay alive in the total absence
of any pointers
to spring, robin raises a weary head
and starts to sing,
its sweet voice drying Earth Mother’s tears
as it has for centuries 

Imagination or celebration,
tree taking its cue for a new lease
of life, as well might
its listeners all, we creatures great
and small,
for cock robin’s messaging wintry worlds
that the nature
of love demands no words or romantic setting
for the joy of its giving

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Past-Present-Future (+), Voyage of Discovery

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

Many thanks to those readers who have sent emails expressing the hope that I will be feeling better soon. 

Like so many people around the world - of all socio-political-religious persuasions - I can but do my best to rise the daily battles imposed by the scarily fast moving Covid-19 variant, and suspect it is much the same for most, if not all of us, in the sense that it remains a case of our winning one here, losing another there… 

Yesterday, I had to use public transport (London Underground) for further treatment for an obstinate ear infection. I then had to go to the building next door for a PSA test prior to a telephone appointment with my prostate cancer consultant next week. Today, I will venture out again (locally this time) for my first Covid-19 vaccination. (I checked with Oncology staff first that it was ok to have the two within 24 hours of each other.) 

So, hopefully, I will soon start to feel at least more positive about everyday life than during the same period than I am right now; public transport can be so scary at the moment all the while a significant number of people still do not wear their masks properly. 

I will let you know tomorrow how I get on with having the vaccination this afternoon, although I am not worried about having it, only a little concerned that Government here has chosen to ignore WHO advice regarding the spacing out of both jabs. 

Take care, be safe, and let's all keep looking on the bright(er) side of life...whatever.

Hugs, 

Roger 

PAST-PRESENT-FUTURE (+), VOYAGE OF DISCOVERY 

Yesterday I thought
I caught a scent of spring in the air,
a sense of new beginnings
and starting over, no more running
for cover
from a coronavirus wreaking chaos
and pain to households
across the world left struggling to survive
against uncertain odds 

Today, I looked out
upon on a bleak, wintry landscape.
and all but cursed
an imagination promising kinder days,
as if mind-body-spirit
ever stood a chance of beating any odds
till a posthumous consciousness awoke in me
a native stubbornness 

Memories, flooding back
images of loved ones, past and present,
fighting odds,
(winning, losing, passing on the poetry
of love evergreen)
in such shades of hope and Peace on Earth
as humanity dreams,
even as it seems to be drifting beyond the reach
of everyday timelines 

Ah, but an eternal springtime
of the heart is one whose wintry seasons
are but uninvited guests
passing through, no welcome extended
nor invitation
to linger longer than nature intends, humanity
assuming centre-stage
for its Here-and-Now, a place long since reserved
in living Memory 

Wherever the human heart passes on its humanity,
discover the in-depth meaning of eternity 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

 

 

Crisis at Christmas OR Love is the Key

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

For many readers, it will not be a very happy Christmas Day this year, and for most of us it will be a Christmas break like no other for all the wrong reasons. Even so, there are vaccines on the way so still reason to think positive and look forward to better times in 2021.

Here's my favourite ghosts (from happier times) and I  wishing you all love and peace always, and many thanks for dropping by the blog.

Hugs,

Roger

CRISIS AT CHRISTMAS or LOVE IS THE KEY

Christmas, in a year
with many a tear in many an eye
for a year that’s seen
so much grief, anger and pain,
yet, also a sense
of being a common humanity
in a world inclined
to view certain differences as weaknesses,
due to its own short sightedness

In a year that has seen
the devastating effects of Covid-19
on world economies
and personal lives, a sense of unity
attempts to rise
above that grief, anger and pain
all but dominating
everyday life, whoever and wherever we are,
any differences notwithstanding 

In times of crisis, people
will often pull together, bridging chasms
between old enemies,
suggesting bigots have second thoughts
asking of religions
that they practise what they preach
in so far as matching
deeds to fine words, embracing peace and love
without either caveat or favour 

For many, Christmas,
among other celebrations, but reinforce
an overwhelming
sense of loss, regret, loneliness, and losing out
in such everyday move
as humanity makes, potentially this way,
potentially that…
now, raising hopes, now (invariably) taking credit
for (inevitably) losing out to ‘Fate’

So, what can we do,
who are left to pick ourselves up, start over?
For a start, never forget
there are such people in the world who care
about others,
will lend a helping hand and see us through
to a kinder end,
while it’s a positive mindset (no weakness) that asks
for help, more likely to find happiness 

There will always be
the good-bad in this world, the happy-sad too;
we can but try
to rise above it all (down to me, down to you)
even compensate
for such evils as humankind may yet do,
let love be the key
to  mind-body-spirit left free to live, let live and let die
if (still) begging the question, "why…?"

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

What on Earth ... ?

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

The owner of a pub about to enter the strictest tier of restrictions in England was recently heard to comment, “We do our best, but it’s never enough. We are told one thing, and do it, then we are told something different.  How are we expected to plan ahead? What I wouldn’t give to know just what’s going on behind the doors of Number 10 Downing Street! 

Well, the old saying is so true in so far as we never know what’s happening behind closed doors, especially when those doors give access to the powers-that-be responsible for making decisions that all but map out our daily lives. 

Here in the UK, even the Government admits that relaxing safety regulations designed to protect us from Covid-19 during a 5-day window over Christmas will inevitably lead to more deaths. If the thinking behind it is that many people will do their own thing anyway, why not leave things as they are; most people will respect the regulations while those who don’t will go their own way regardless of any window.

WHAT ON EARTH... ?

Weary of restrictions,
patience running (very) thin
shoppers turning on
anyone putting them right
about masks slipping
or not caring to wear one at all;
conspiracy theories
all the rage, and testing the self-control
of majority non-believers 

Christmas edging closer,
safety restrictions to be lifted
for a window of cheer
no matter anyone flinging it
wide open likely
to pay dearly for the pleasure
once it’s slammed shut,
Covid-19 having had no such reservations,
continuing to make itself felt 

Mothers, fathers, sisters,
brothers and close friends left
grieving as we move
into 2021, hopeful a vaccine
will bring an end
once and for all to a coronavirus
spreading chaos and pain
the likes of which all humanity can but trust
it may never so endure again  

May the world’s politicians
stay mindful, too, of such threats
as global warming
to all nature and humankind,
reasoning the need
with care, clarity, and openness,
no room for confusion,
less underestimating Joe Public’s watchful eye
on the party politics of illusion 

Such is life, most of us making
the best of things rather than dwell
on worst scenarios,
its being too precious to waste;
better to seize the day,
celebrate a common humanity,
for all its population
left sighing over rainbows time and again, asking
"What on earth is going on ...?"

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

 

Love. Life Force OR Someone has to Mow the Lawn

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

Today’s poem first appeared on the blog in 2013

I once had good cause to ask a friend, ‘What’s the point of living when the love of your life has died?’

My friend had lost her husband in a road accident some years earlier, and I suppose I was expecting pearls of wisdom. Instead, she gave me a lovely, enigmatic smile, shrugged, and said, ‘Someone has to mow the lawn, it won't mow itself. Besides," adding with a twinkle in each eye, "When you make a home with someone, just being together is home. Nothing can change that. So if you'll excuse me, there's a house that's still a home and it won't sort itself either." 

It was a long while before I understood quite what she meant. I thought she was simply being stoic, but it was, of course, so much more.  Life goes on, and needs must we move on too, but mind-body-spirit will always have it that moving on doesn't have to mean leaving anyone behind.  

LOVE, LIFE FORCE or SOMEONE HAS TO MOW THE LAWN

Our clothes need washing,

shopping needs doing,

and who’ll mow the lawn?

Our lunch needs preparing,

potatoes need peeling

and who’ll mow the lawn?

The dog will need grooming,

birdcage cleaning,

and who’ll mow the lawn?

Our rose trees need pruning,

fences need mending,

and who’ll mow the lawn?

Our bed, it will need making

(the mattress turning)

and who’ll mow the lawn?

But time to be up and leaving

your grave I'm haunting,

and go mow the damn lawn

Copyright R. N Taber 2010; 2020

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

Rites of Spring

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

This poem first appeared on the blog in 2016.

Since the onset of the Covid-19 coronavirus, many people around the world - both sexes, all ages, especially those living alone  - are now experiencing loneliness for the first time in the lives; the need to self-isolate, social distancing, the loss of loved ones to the virus … all are impacting on our lives to some degree or another. Some of us feel supported by friends, family and neighbours while others are made to feel they do not even have that reassurance and comfort to draw upon. Whatever, we are all having to get used to living in a changed world … and change, itself, can be a tough nut to crack, even for the most resilient among us.

Loneliness is not only a sad condition but can also make a person bitter if he or she is not careful to keep a balanced perspective. We poets write about it, but it’s every lonely person’s private hell and there’s nothing poetic about it all; the poetry comes with hindsight after finding that someone special, often when and where we least expect it.

Thankfully there are many ‘special’ people in this world; those who care enough to lend a helping hand (without being asked) or even just make contact by letter, email or much appreciated phone call where they sense it may well be needed. Far too many people either wait to be approached or take offence because someone hasn’t approached them; invariably, there are reasons behind human behaviour, about which many of us don’t think to ask or even consider before taking offence … and not the least of these reasons can be loneliness, a feeling that too few of us are willing to admit.

How long two lonely people having found each other will stay together may be anyone’s guess, but it’s a sure bet they will enjoy a taste of their own private heaven. Needless to say, the heart, too, has its seasons, of which the most joyful (at any age) has to be spring.

Ah, yes, I remember it well ...

RITES OF SPRING

It was a winter of the heart,

craving spring, hungry for summer,

wondering where they’ve gone,

those sounds of laughter haunting

the ear? Why a pillow by mine

and no one there? I’m walking down

a street and all I see is feet,

protesting about being on their own

too long, falling in with others,

insisting it is where they belong

Seasons passed, cycle of pain

turning me, clockwork clown, going

through the same old motions

of getting by (fixed smile, dry eye);

till one night during Happy Hour,

there you were. For a while we took

comfort in drowning together,

letting our glasses relate the way

life's meant to be, you and me

against the world till... (maybe?)

True to say, in each other’s arms

we agreed to stay a while, no weeds

deceiving passers-by but flowers

bright as daffodils after April showers,

tail of a comet on the Milky Way,

favourite songs played over and over

by a late DJ till everyone’s running

for cover but us, left savouring dreams

to share, richer for richer, no poorer

for chancing our luck then and there

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]

Taking Stock OR A Sense of Perspective

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

I am not happy with the new blogger and wasn't when I was invited to try it some time ago. I had hoped we bloggers might  be given a choice  to continue in the old format, but it appears not, so I may not be blogging here for much longer. It is typical - in my personal experience - that so many people and organizations, even some shops, give little thought to how many older people like myself  - who do not have i-phones or android and struggle with IT - are  easily confused, especially those of us living alone and have been struggling with other health issues long before the Covid-19 pandemic. However, I will see how I get on with the new format when needs must ... but am not optimistic. Meanwhile, I will continue in the old format while I still can ...

Today's poem last appeared on the blog in 2014.

People often tell me that as we grow old(er) we spend more time looking back because there are fewer reason to look forward, and it is this ‘negativity’ that  drags us down and others with us. I don’t agree. Looking back can be inspirational, stirring mind and spirit as once it was stirred by the sheer energy and imagination of earlier years, to that sense of spirituality intrinsic to nature and human nature and which may or may not have anything to do with religion.

True, taking stock of one's life can be a scary business; we invariably find self and life wanting. Yet, it can be a comfort too, reminding ourselves that we are but human and our failures are as much down to that as our successes. It reminds us, too, that we are as we are, live as we live…and there is time yet to open our eyes to more of the same (and its multiple variations) before they close forever upon one perspective at least on the art of being human.

I wrote this poem (a villanelle) in a reflective mood on Brighton pier. As regular readers will know, I have been going to Brighton since I was a very young child and my mother would take me during school holidays. I will be 75 later this year so have a lot of taking stock to do from time to time.

It is so true that taking stock of our lives may not always be as rewarding a process as we might like, but it can (if we let it)  help us remember who we are, how we got this far, and even (maybe) lend us the insight to right a few wrongs, make good some mistakes, identify and work through the fears as well as the more positive life forces that drive us ...

This poem is a villanelle.

TAKING STOCK or A SENSE OF PERSPECTIVE

On Brighton pier,

empathy with a feisty sea,

a lifetime to share

Child of yesteryear

spotted waving cheerfully

on Brighton pier

Mist starts to clear,

waves splashing excitedly,

a lifetime to share

Cloud faces as queer

as folk, smile convincingly

on Brighton pier

Listen, and I can hear

a world in perfect harmony,

a lifetime to share

Of life-death, no fear,

for engaging with positivity

on Brighton pier,

a lifetime to share

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2005; 2018

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by

R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]

L-O-V-E, Survivors

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(Did I say it would be easy...?) 

This poem is a villanelle.

L-O-V-E, SURVIVORS

Though bigotry and hate thrive 

among the world’s power brokers,

it’s love that will see us survive

Always, people willing to drive

forces for good to the aid of others,

though bigotry and hate thrive

While terrorist-led plots connive

to mock this world’s peacemakers,

it's love that will see us survive

Open heart and mind ever contrive

to expose the worst attention seekers,

though bigotry and hate thrive

If life giving forces as bees to hive,

(a warning sting for potential takers)

it’s love that will see us survive

As sure to keep freedom's name alive,

as frustrate its would-be code breakers;

though bigotry and hate thrive,

it’s love that will see us survive 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016, 2020

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