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].

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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.

Saturday 20 June 2009

Arthur Atkins (Painter-Poet) Liverpool, UK/ San Francisco (1)

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

I love Liverpool but rarely get an opportunity to visit these days. Among many places of interest there is a wonderful little bookstore called News From Nowhere.

Only recently, I got chatting to a young Liverpudlian (in a pub, where else?) initially about the bookstore. He seemed genuinely interested in my poetry and was even familiar with some of my better known poems. However, he was even more interested to hear about Arthur Atkins, not least because he shares the same surname. While he thinks it is very unlikely that he is related to the painter, he promised to do a genealogy search and confirm.

Arthur Atkins is something of a romantic figure to me and one of my heroes, so much so that I dedicated Love and Human Remains - volume one of my poetry quartet of the same name - to him.


Arthur Atkins in Bruce Porter's studio, spring 1898

William Arthur Atkins - known as Arthur - was an English artist, raised in the Liverpool area. He studied art in Paris but never exhibited in Europe. His paintings were frequently on show in the San Francisco Bay area of California before his untimely death at the age of 25. One of a group of painter-poets responsible for an arts magazine called The Lark that was published in the San Francisco area during the late 19th century, this remarkable young man has long been an inspiration to me. His grave overlooks the same Piedmont hills he loved and painted, although now encroached upon by urban spread. A friend of mine in the US (also a painter) owns several of his paintings and has made contact with descendants of Arthur's immediate family.

ARTHUR ATKINS
(1873-1899)

Spirit of Liverpool, 
burning bright like autumn leaves 
in the glare of day,
an amber glow at twilight,
kaleidoscope of each season's 
poetry and art in the discerning eye
of body-mind-spirit...
the Candle Holder, 
blending with shadows, discovering 
here, there, everywhere, 
what the naked eye 
cannot see, visions of the mind 
anticipating eternity

Braveheart, ventures 
to France, Italy, exploring new paths 
of creativity,
imploring mind-body-spirit
let artistic expression 
go free, establish its identity; 
in a New World society
busy chasing gold tales, find art 
and poetry marking out
their own trails across landscapes 
of a land in its youth, 
not least by a young man's
passion for truth

Where life's candle long since snuffed out, 
a painter-poet's passion lives on 
as its art and nature wills in each leaf that falls
among crowded Piedmont hills

Copyright R. N. Taber 2000; 2017

[Note: an earlier version of this poem appears in Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001; rev. ed. in e-format in preparation.]

UPDATE: More about Arthur at: 
http://rogertab.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/arthur-atkins-2.html

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Wednesday 14 January 2009

Last One Home Is A Green Pig

Whatever happened to childhood? Given that we carry much of those early years into maturity, we may well ask why adulthood often resembles a green pig…


LAST ONE HOME IS A GREEN PIG

Spots of rain on the pavement
heading home, marked out
like hopscotch and whose turn
to throw the slate?
A hop, skip and jump, anxious
to land well clear, stay ahead,
aware that last one home
is a green pig;
Rain comes faster than an enemy
at the gate, wiping out all effort,
obliging someone - to
pocket the slate;
What next, computer games?
(No one at home likely
to insist we must
take turns);
For slate, read mouse, dying
to score (Oh, the lives little
people play and always
up for more!);
Sun’s out; pavement dries
to a smug grin, like
the face of a pig
coloured green

[From: The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004]

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Tuesday 3 June 2008

Summer is a Man in a Blue Denim Shirt

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

[Update August 4th 2018: Oh, what a difference 10 years makes! Here we are, in one of the hottest summers the UK, much of Europe and beyond has known for decades! Oh, but where is that rain now, and how can anyone remain in denial of climate change?]

It's June 2008 and summer must be here, surely? Yet, here in the UK, I look out of my window at pouring rain and wonder…

SUMMER IS A MAN IN A BLUE DENIM SHIRT

In a field of sunflowers I met a man
wearing a blue denim shirt,
smelling of roses, singing a song
about love, joy and peace;
Laughing, he took me by the hand,
led me a dance as lightly
as a summer wind’s teasing leaves,
stroking a sparrow’s feathers,
running friendly fingers
through my hair, making me feel
so…alive

When I asked his name, he smiled
and burst into song again
without answering, lifting my heart
like the sparrow’s wing,
flirting with clouds at heaven’s door
as if daring someone to fling
it wide and protest at such blasphemy
as behaving so badly we even
whisper gossip at prayers
intended to give thanks for being
so…alive

A dark storm broke. We could but run
for the shelter and safety
of a nearby farmhouse painted green
but when I turned, that man
in the faded blue denim shirt was gone;
I searched long and hard
in pouring rain until soaked to the skin
before finally knocking at the door,
no sign of life so had to move on,
nearly … died

Come sun or storms, see summer pass,
its heart left waiting on love and peace

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

[From: Accomplices  to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]

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