Nature and Human Nature Revisited

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

How well I still recall the old childhood cry, “Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me...” It was a lie I actually believed until I stood on the threshold of my youth as a gay person; I was 14 years-old and it was 1959, not a good time to be of an LGBT persuasion.

There were so many words, insults, faux stereotypical images behind every one of them; queer, faggot, cock-sucker among the least offensive, likely to be thrown at anyone even suspected of being “not normal” or as morally prescribed by the majority heterosexual point of view.

Yes, I know things have changed, but not for everyone and not everywhere. Whenever I recall barely scraping by as a real person, too scared to come of the damn closet until my early 30’s, I feel ashamed of myself and angry that some 40+ years on, there are men and women continuing to suffer much as I did, courtesy of various socio-cultural-religious agendas for bigotry worldwide.

Homophobia, sexism, racism... these could have been minimalised, if not eradicated altogether, had Education but done its job properly in its various academic settings rather than being made to feel it had to ‘play safe’’ by choosing to confine itself to academic life-forces rather than those at the heart of human nature that have made the world go round for centuries. Some may well argue that it is up to parents, not teachers, and they would be right, only how many parents really talk to their children (at any age) about the wider ‘moral’ spectrum beyond what they have chosen for themselves? If pressed, they will invariably say it’s a teacher’s responsibility, but as soon as a teacher attempts to help a class cross academic lines into real-life issues, its usually parents who are the first to express such outrage as likely as not  to be ‘legitimised’ by a social media that appears to prefer fake news and local gossip to anything approaching the facts of a matter, Consequently, offence is often taken where no offence meant other than to give us what we can expect to find outside the school gates... if we haven’t already experienced much of it for ourselves already...

Thank goodness for a level of maturity among many if not most young people these days, teaching them to recognize and differentiate between such fake news, home truths and stereotypes as academia rarely has an opportunity to home in on; where it does, it needs must walk on ‘eggshells’ - for which, read metaphor and simile least likely to cause offence.

Unfortunately, even the most well-intentioned statutes, such as those embracing Human Rights and Equal Opportunities are fair game for anyone whose power of persuasion (or power alone) is such that we may too easily be led (or misled) by their interpreting words to their own advantage, for negative as well as positive reasons. Whatever, the chances are that various media sources - with their own agendas - will provide them with a global audience...

NATURE AND HUMAN NATURE REVISITED 

Sun, beating down on a Covid-stricken Earth,
humanity encouraged yet again by the glorious rebirth
of nature as seasons come into their own,
seeds sown long ago start to flower, bear fruit, whatever
expected of their species, so human nature, too,
continues to rework stories of love and peace, such joys
of life that help compensate for its darker aspects,
wars and (local) hate crime ever among its chief suspects
besides drugs and people smugglers 

Apollo glaring down on a panic-stricken Earth
as if bringing kinder weather might even yet encourage
its communities to get their acts together,
cease making out that God’s in His heaven and all’s right
with a world so bent on making assumptions
that everyone’s okay with  progress keeping Business
in the loop, while having some folks jumping
through more Hoops of Change, only to find mind-body-spirit
as willing as ever, but less and less able 

Past-present-future starting to fall like fake news
on human ears ever wrestling with such sounds and effects
as now raising hopes, now free-falling us
into a sea of despair, waves crashing, that sinking feeling
almost welcome... but... mind-body-spirit
not finished with us yet, urging us to panic not, but swim
ashore, grab the reins of life once more, steer it
while reasoning the need, paying less heed to certain ‘betters’
whose words but axes grinding us down 

Rain, beating down on a Covid-stricken Earth, lending us time
and (personal) space to rise above its worst 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

Engaging with the Politics of Word Power

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

Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2017. Meanwhile, I plod on with trying to compile a new collection ...

Now, we all use word power as a means of communication. Where would we be without language? Yet, too often, I suspect, we underestimate the power of words to influence us, for better or worse, depending on how and why they are targeting us. TV, Radio, advertising, social media, one-to ones with family and friends...all claiming to have our best interests at heart. Some do, of course, while others may well have ulterior motives we can easily fail to spot behind every noun, verb and pronoun employed in such a way as to try and influence, distract even do us harm as gossip past and present can bear witness.

Words alone are harmless enough, of course; it is how we use them that can make or break the toughest ego, so what chance the more vulnerable among us? Tone, body language, manipulating interpretation by use of satirical expression loaded with double meaning... all these and more can -and not infrequently are - used as weapons acceptable to society as a whole until fall-out occurs that catches the attacker/s out and demands investigation; we should remember, too, that these same weapons can be used in our defence, although the context is often far from clear, especially where an experienced wordsmith is involved.

At school, years ago, my old English teacher told the class never to take words or groups of words - in written or spoken language - at face value unless we are sure they mean us no harm; the former in particular can be so easily misinterpreted although the spoken word, too, especially if it contradicts certain points if view we may already have reached by ourselves. How we are feeling at any given time also plays a part; if vulnerable for any reason, we are as likely to take words of support or encouragement for criticism as we are to take the art of flattery and ill-motivated persuasion at face value.

How can we tell what's what? Well, there is no sure failsafe, but there is much to be said for the recipient's not jumping to conclusions without due consideration of what has been said and what may or may not have been intended; the writer or speaker, too, needs to consider in what context he or she is using certain words and look for alternatives where the intended meaning can be in the least misconstrued.

Language is far more pliable than many of us give it credit for; in the wrong hands, it can shoot us down, just as in the right hands it can prove just the pick-me-up we need. "Beware flattery most of all," my old teacher said, "Flatterers invariably have hidden motives that are unlikely to be in your best interests, whether in the longer or shorter term. Whatever, the chances are you will end up feeling misled, conned, betrayed... such is the dark side of the Politics of Word Power.

ENGAGING WITH THE POLITICS OF WORD POWER

I know not who, what, where, 

yet I feel it's here at the heart of me, 

no less a part of me than sun, 

moon, stars and rain nurturing 

a world that, when all's said 

and done, knows little for certain 

once its fine rhetoric begun working

its mischief

Mind-body-spirit, but left 

in the dark, once a force for good, 

but not here, tearful victim 

of word power putting us down 

for aspiring to better things, 

better ways than else we'd know 

but for a sense of its brighter light

leading the way

World, its rhetoric on the ear

where none so deaf as will not hear,

what any mind-body-spirit 

has to say regarding its concerns

for our being fed the poetry

of whatever it may take to gull us

into giving way to word power worthy

of Machiavelli

Wherever contemporary dogma 

wears its glad rags, a silvery tongue

ensuring innuendo hits its mark,

we need to beware winks and smiles

on the face of tigers who'd see us

in hell rather than miss the chance

take our place whenever opportunity

making a play

Trust human instinct to win the day,

get the better of rhetoric, rip its finery

into shreds and let them lie

for life's caretakers to sweep and bin,

stronger, kinder companions

to word power looking on, resolving

not to let pretty language have its way

with us again 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001; 2019

[Note: An earlier version of this poem first appeared under the title 'In a Word' in an anthology, In the Dreams of Angels, Triumph House [Forward Press] 2001 and subsequently in my first collection Love and Human Remains, Assembly Books, 2000; it has been substantially revised.]

Soldiering On

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

Today’s poem only appeared early last year, but I was unhappy with both title and poem in spite of encouragement from friends to publish it here. Hopefully, readers will enjoy this version; I have changed the title and completely revised the end couplet. (So why post a poem here if I’m not entirely happy with it? Well, sometimes I am too close to the poem to see rather than simply sense what is wrong or missing; this is, of course, where any critical feedback comes into its own. (Academically, I didn’t do well at school I the 1950’s/ early 60’s, but had some excellent teachers; one of the most valuable lessons they taught me was to always face up to my shortcomings and mistakes, even if only to myself.)

I dare say most if not all of us have upset someone at some time or another with an accidentally inappropriate choice of words. I can think of several occasions when it has happened to me, and I’ve not always been able to mend fences with the person or persons concerned. Some people are quick to take offence and slow to appreciate that it well may be that no offence was intended.

Many years ago, I upset my secondary school English teacher by a using poor choice of words. I apologised, and explained I meant no offence. He accepted my apology, adding a word of warning that has stayed with me these past 50+ years. “Never, but never, underestimate word power, Taber. It can make or break or break any relationship. More often than not, you’ll never understand why unless you make the effort to find out. Even then, the chances are barely 50:50 that the other person will have a clue what you’re on about and will proceed to hold a grudge likely to prey on your mind for years. Most people, you see, forget that different words mean different things to different people. As for the spoken word, well, tone and body language are everything, and half the time we’re unaware how we are using either.”

Oh, but he was so right, and I have inadvertently found myself in that the same situation time and again, not least because I am partially deaf . Believe me, though, those of us who wear hearing aids are no more vulnerable to mishearing and/ or misunderstanding  than the average hearing person. Most of us who belong to the former category can usually tell from the other person's tone or expression that we have misheard and will act to prevent any misunderstanding. Sometimes an apology-cum-explanation can clear the air, sometimes it won’t stand a cat in hell’s chance of getting through to the offended person.

Language lays traps; it is always worth remembering the old adage advising us to think before we speak (write, e-mail, whatever) or risk its damaging the best of good intentions; its misuse is a common enough mistake that most if not all of us make at some time or another, grounds enough for appeal, surely, should we accidentally put a foot wrong? Sadly, such is human nature that it is (too) often inclined to turn a deaf ear.

This poem is a kenning

SOLDIERING ON

I’ll fight the good fight

with the very best of intentions,

yet often misunderstood

for a rogue devil in the detail,

invariably missed

by thought processes less familiar

with the subtler art

of meaning as regards prime destination,

a sensitive mind-body-spirit

Losing the good fight

has been known to hurt those most

whose side I would take

against the harsher machinations

of life, love, whatever

it may be seemingly conspiring

to set us at worse odds

than mind-body-spirit intends, but foiled

by its own commonest flaws

Winning the good fight

with the very best of intentions,

and getting the better

of some rogue devil in the detail

likely to throw a spanner

in the workings of any relationship

can be easily accomplished

for not assuming what’s good for the goose

is good for the gander

I, Word Power, expert in the art of persuasion,

nor less so in the nature of disillusion

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

S-word in the Sheath

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

As I grow old(er) I find myself thinking about death more and more often; not morbidly, and I don’t find the prospect too distressing. I guess I am more curious than anything else.

A non-religious person, I don’t believe in any form of life after death in the sense that many people like to imagine it. A lifelong relationship with nature gives me hope that after this winter of my life, spring will come again. 

While I have to confess I remain fearful of pain and try not to think about it, death itself holds no fear for me at all. Yes, I will miss the people, places and things I love most in this life, of course. Poets, no more or less than many if not most of us, are always up for a challenge, and what greater challenge can there be than death? At the same time, I strongly believe in the existence of a posthumous consciousness in the world (yes, ghosts if you like) continuing to make our presence felt wherever and in whomsoever it has made its presence felt during our lifetime.

Incidentally - and unrelated - I would like to thank all those readers who have been in touch to ask about my prostate cancer. Physically, I have a few problems, but the positive thinker in me remains...well, yes, positive as hormone therapy continues to keep my prostate cancer from becoming aggressive.

This poem is a villanelle.

S-WORD IN THE SHEATH

Death, it's just a word,

a poet’s metaphor,

but sheath for a sword

Still, small, voice heard

keeping our score,

death, it's just a word

Mistaken for a prey-bird
at heaven's door,

but sheath for a sword

Life' s worst fears stirred,

all love forswore,

death, it's just a word 

Any great victory averred
(denying love's lore)

but sheath for a sword

Love, immortality assured

(it's love rates our score)
death, it's just a word,

but sheath for a sword

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2018

[Note: This poem has been significantly revised since it first appeared in a Poetry Now (Forward Press) anthology, Worldly Words (2004) and subsequently in  A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005]