A History

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

Many if not most of us have them, moments in time that are surreal, take us out of ourselves and would have us look back at all personal space stripped bare of any well-chosen décor meant to give us a sense of belonging, and we do feel that… for the greater part of us that’s real. 

Only, now and then we treat ourselves to acting out some wannabe persona, lending it a reality, letting it in while, at the same time, acknowledging the need to return it where it (no ‘we’) could well have belonged, but for having to… get real?

A HISTORY

A small child,
playing in the street
outside the house
where I was born, not a care
of the world’s making,
but for its nagging mind-body-spirit
that on my own head be it

Teenage years,
home truths doing battle
with fake news,
faux stereotypes ganging up
on me, redefining
my identity, pressuring that part of me
engaging with my sexuality

A young adult
confused, all but lost
in mixed feelings,
seeking a place to belong.
left dangling 
by a favourite pop song over my head, 
bent on raising the half-dead

Older, wising up
to the ways of a world
that would have us
hang and let hang, devil take
the hindmost,
stiff upper lip, ready cue for surviving;
living and partly living

You-Me-Us, 
body of such thought
across eternity,
as left hanging by art forms
on the inner eye,
looking to make any sense or none at all
of its heart-and-soul

A small child,
playing in the street
outside the house
where he/ she was born, no cares
of the world’s making,
but for ghosts nagging a mind-body-spirit
that on its own head be it

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

From London, UK...

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

Hi, Everyone, from London UK,

I suspect I am not the only one with mixed feelings today, on the brink of a new year that holds more than life's usual share of joys and fears, given that Omicron continues its rapid spread around the world. We can but focus on nurturing a positive-thinking mindset and, yes... be sure to keep our fingers crossed. 😉

Some people argue that, when in doubt, do nothing; my mother, though, preferred the adage, "When in doubt, it's better to err on the side of caution..." I am reminded of that as New Year's Eve approaches and everyone will be celebrating, each in their own way. Me, I will spend a quiet evening watching a favourite series on BBC i-player as if it were just another evening. I will treat myself to glass of red wine  and wish for a kinder 2022 that this year has been for many if not most of us.

In London, especially, but also in other parts of the UK there has been a noticeable rise in violent crime among and against young people; while much of it can be blamed on the stress we have all been under since Covid-19 came into our lives, there can be no excuse for violence. Young lives matter, whatever, their ethnicity, religion or sexuality. Young people not only deserve a future, they are also the future of this planet, all of our futures.  

The stress of the past two years has placed incalculable stress on everyone, lockdowns especially, not least for young people unable to see and mix with loved ones and friends, an essential part of growing up, not to mention a vital learning curve in understanding ourselves and human nature in general. Let's face it, there is a LOT to learn...from the here-and-now to eternity. It is never too late to learn of course, but much of what we learn (or don't) in our youth, we will carry with us for the rest of our lives. All the more reason to get it right, yeah? Or, as near to getting it right as personal space and circumstances will allow.

I well recall a moment in class at my old secondary school when the English  teacher told us that "Life is a perpetual learning curve..." to which someone piled up, "Oh, sir, that is so trite, and you're always telling us to try and be original..." 

"Yes, well," said the teacher, "That's true, but where our thoughts are concerned, the chances are someone, somewhere has already beat us to it and we've heard it voiced so many time in so many variations that it becomes a case of familiarity breeds contempt. For contempt, read trite. Never but never, though, make the mistake of ignoring someone else's original thought. Where it helped them, it may well help us, if only by adapting it to our own approach to life or whatever. Few ideas or thoughts in life are original. It is in how we approach and what we make of them that we can all be original in our own way... Sayings, proverbs, there is plenty of food for thought there, believe you, me..."  

The lesson continued, all about the use of adjectives and adverbs as I recall... but I forget quite what. His words about Thought, though, remain with me to this day, possibly because years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer have thrown my ow thought processes into such chaos that old sayings and proverbs provide as good an opportunity as any for licking them into shape.

That's all for today, folks, except to wish you all an enjoyable evening, whatever socialising you have in mind. Let 'caution' be the keyword, but don't let it stop you having fun, if only just for being in good company.

Take care, stay safe , keep well and I'll be back tomorrow with a poem to greet 2022.

Hugs,

Roger

Tracks

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

OVERHEARD: “They’re always right so everyone else has to be wrong. How vain or self-centred can a person be, for heaven’s sake?” 

Possibly the person in question is neither vain or self-centred in the sense their accuser implies. Sometimes people need to address their inner selves so often, in order to avoid a personal abyss, that they develop tunnel vision; not in every respect, though, only as and when they need to make some cliff-hanger of a personal decision. 

Whatever, everyone’s cliff-hangers are different; what may help one person may not help another. 

Since the person under discussion here was clearly asked for advice, or at least an opinion, with which the speaker plainly disagreed... don’t they deserve some credit for at least trying to answer, in the light of what they may well have discovered for themselves, rather than sitting on the proverbial fence? 

Now, the speaker may well be right, but doesn’t the accused deserve the benefit of doubt rather than be given a stereotypical label that may well do the rounds and prove to be unfounded in different circumstances...? 

Why did I earwig and subsequently write the poem? Well, possibly because one of my favourite recordings from the 1960’s is Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood by The Animals. Sadly, it happens to some of us all the time... 

TRACKS 

Everywhere I look,
I’ll invariably fail to see what lies
beyond certain perimeters,
narrow, though, they well may be
for reasons best accounted for
by formative years left least aware
of a mind-body-spirit
failing to master such arts of interaction
as effect true communication 

Unable to break free
of such hauntings and compelled
to follow, though they lead
into such dark, complex landscapes
of emotion and imagination
as more likely to effect tunnel vision
than lend me a key
to better understanding the finer mysteries
of human history over centuries 

From time to time,
personal space allows me glimpses
of a kinder past-present-future
than the human engine in me running
on lines meant to leave me
missing out on such key destinations
as Love and Peace,
only for me to miss my destination yet again
on such tracks as are but human 

Call me Self-centredness, that human faculty
often mistaken for vanity 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021