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].

Name:
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.

Thursday 28 April 2011

A Common Garden Snapshot

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

After a great evening yesterday, I just had to come and tell you about it. Now, I am no artist, not least because I don’t think visually, and have the greatest admiration for those who do. So I was thrilled to be invited to a private viewing of 'Authorized’ by artist James Howard. It is his latest solo show, and  a very exciting experience.

The show proved to be very different from anything of his that I have seen before, yet still characteristically sharp, satirical, entertaining and (very) thought provoking.

Regular readers will know that I have enthused about this young man's work before. I have known his parents for years and will continue to watch his creative talents develop and evolve with great interest. His work reflects ways of seeing and feeling that arouse all the observer's senses as if waking them up after a restless sleep. One cannot help but come away from his 'Authorized' with one's own outlook on life and art (and perception of self) under review.

Find more about James Howard at: http://luckyluckydice.com/

Enjoy! [Above all else, any art form best comes into its own once it is not only shared but also enjoyed.]

Meanwhile...

Friends  often comment that I rarely take photographs even when on holiday or passing through new places. My camera is my mind’s eye and it encourages me to write poems.

I get a feeling for places, people too, that I frequently shape into a poem that I can share with others just as they might share their holiday snaps. Such was the case when I visited Scarborough to give a poetry reading there a few years ago. By way of illustration, the second poem is one I wrote about this very pretty and friendly town on the Yorkshire coast.

Welcome to my garden. [Sadly, I don't have my own where I live in London although I do look out over one.]

A COMMON GARDEN SNAPSHOT

Leaves, strewn about in the mud
like underwear torn from a washing line
by a freak wind

Lies, piling up like dead leaves
providing sustenance for the very earth
that nurtured them

Hearts, now joined together,
now ripped apart, like stale bread fought 
over by sparrows

Hopes, tossed like underwear
on a cruel wind over hungry graves ready
to gobble us up

Chase the wind, stumble in mud,
retrieve underwear for a washing machine
or stand by and watch?

Choices, a gathering of sparrows
debating how best to survive a bad winter
through to spring

Graves, wearing hard won badges
of flowers and dead leaves, each sure to be
telling tales on us ...

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



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Monday 11 April 2011

A Shared Antipathy For Beer Can Rings OR Marine Life Under Threat

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

Regular readers will know I have always loved Brighton (East Sussex) and been a regular visitor there for more than fifty years. I often go there on my birthday even though it is in December; I started writing this poem there on my 63rd birthday and finished it on the train back to London.

Several readers have kindly contacted me to say how much they enjoyed the poems I read in Brighton for YouTube last December.

[Find these and others at: http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber ]

Thanks for that, folks. Encouraging feedback is always gratefully received, especially as I find reading outdoors quite hard since there are always so many distractions.

I included today’s poem in my latest poetry collection. Regular readers will also know that all my poetry titles are listed on amazon.co.uk (with some readers’ reviews) if anyone is interested. They can be ordered at any UK bookstore. Alternatively, (signed) copies of most of my collections are available (now FREE + Postage) to overseas readers as my collections are only on sale in the UK. [Contact: rogertab@aol.com with ‘Blog Reader’ in the subject field.]

My poetry books contain a mixture of gay-interest and other poems, divided into themed sections for easy reading; there are about 20 – 25 poems per section so readers can just pick one and then try another section another time. [I should say that my critics complain I crowd my books with too many poems. I take their point, but readers seem to enjoy having six or seven little poetry books in one. So I think I’ll stick with my readers rather than pander to the critics for my next collection in 2012.]

On the whole, Brighton beach is kept remarkably clean and tidy; all the more remarkable for the way some people simply toss their litter away where they stand (on the beach or even in the sea; both present a danger to wildlife) rather than find a waste bin.

This poem is a villanelle.

A SHARED ANTIPATHY FOR BEER CAN RINGS or MARINE LIFE UNDER THREAT

We kept the most curious company,
watching waves clear beer cans rings away;
clouds, a crab, two seagulls and me

A spring twilight glowing beautifully,
footprints unable though longing to stay;
we kept the most curious company

I wondered, what do they think of me?
Could we converse, whatever would we say,
clouds, a crab, two seagulls and me?

Clouds, lamenting pollution, I dare say,
crab and gulls much the same of the sea;
we kept the most curious company

On one thing we’d be sure to agree,
the world doesn’t see things nature’s way;
clouds, a crab, two seagulls and me

A sudden rush of waves hit me angrily,
a smoky dusk making a meal of us per se;
we kept the most curious company;
clouds, a crab, two seagulls and me

[Brighton, East Sussex (UK), May 2008]

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

PS The use of 'per se' in the 6th stanza is yet another example of the liberties I often take with 'hidden' rhyme; i.e. sounds that are similar but not an exact rhyming match.

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Friday 1 April 2011

Passers-By, a Collage

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

Life is rarely as dark as it sometimes may seem in our personal space just so long as we always make room there for love, in all its shapes, forms and consciousness.

While it may sometimes seem that even love has forgotten us, we need to remember that, although loved ones may be far away, even dead, moving on does not mean leaving anyone behind and their love will continue to sustain us through good times and bad  ... if we let it.

We also need to consider future generations and how the human condition can be much improved - mentally and physically - by paying closer attention to environmental as well as social issues; at the root of the latter often lies an inability to grasp that we are a common humanity whose differences do not make us 'different', only human. Moreover, we need to act in the Here-and-Now or any future generations that may yet emerge will never forgive us. [Yes, I know I have said this before, but as my old English teacher, 'Jock' Rankin ,used to say, if something is worth saying, it is worth repeating.]

PASSERS-BY, A COLLAGE

Time, it’s passing by me,
all alone;
stress, getting worse each day;
love, it’s all around me.
yet closed to many (still) refusing 
to answer for any tears let fall or accept
any blame

Society, it’s hacking me
to pieces,
(human remains everywhere);
among those left for dead 
by religions whose agendas pass
for dogma spelling out our sins, for better,
for worse

Politics, it’s smothering me,
so weary
of hearing its lies and half-lies,
to satisfy appetites
for power feeding on such promises 
as likely to win votes as lead its paymasters 
by the nose 

Hope, always there for me,
urging me
to stay (for the better part)
on the brighter side
of life, notwithstanding a fascination
with its darker side, innate as it well may be,
and only human

Differences, ever hacking
into each other,
if only to be first among equals;
history, busy reworking
ages-old myths as likely as likely as not 
to confound, let generations naively deploring
lessons unlearned

Time, it’s passing by me,
listening out
for the timbre of each heartbeat;
love, it’s all around,
and would heal even those among us
allowing self-pity to consign its essential integrity
to free fall

See-Hear, a common humanity
with a duty of care
to all creatures great and small,
or risk the well-being
of future generations put in jeopardy
by a collective failing to acknowledge and act on early
warning signs

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012, rev.2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]

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Wednesday 23 March 2011

A Harper's Song


As requested by a number of readers, the link below is to my informal poetry reading on the 4th plinth in London's Trafalgar Square; it was my contribution to sculptor Antony  Gormley's One and Other 'live' sculpture' project which involved 2,400 people doing their 'own' thing' for one hour 24/7 over 100 days during the summer of 2009:

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T [NB: Sept 19, 2019 - The British Library confirmed today that he video is no longer available as it was incompatible with a new IT system, However, it still exists and BL hope to reinstate it and make it available to the public again at some future date.] RNT

Meanwhile...

My mother once told me that the best thing a parent can do for his or her children is to encourage them to think for themselves, believe in themselves and stand on their own two feet. Oh, but that is all so true!

Ah, but she never said it would be easy for either parent or child. She certainly had a hard time with me and I am just so grateful she persevered. Although she died in 1976 at the age of 59, I like to think she would be pleased if not proud I’ve come as far as I have. True, this may not seem very far to some people, but to paraphrase the legendary Neil Armstrong, one person’s small step is another person’s giant leap.

A HARPER’S SONG

A child is born and its very first cry
plays on the heart like a harp to the soul;
instrument for a lifetime, you and I,
following every note’s rise and fall

A child is born and its eyes upon us
read the words in our hearts like a poem
about life’s great joys and its mysteries
if sometimes, the challenge, a battle hymn

A child is born and we’ll tell everyone
of this jewel come to light that is ours,
and may it shine like the morning sun
nurturing earth’s songbirds and flowers

Be there cheers or tears, let the harper play
and the child, like a flower, find its way

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

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Saturday 19 March 2011

Spring is a Girl in a New Dress

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

Okay, so spring isn’t quite here in the UK yet but...it’s just around the corner so let’s get a little ahead of ourselves, yeah?

SPRING IS A GIRL IN A NEW DRESS

Among bluebells, she skipped
wearing a matching dress,
smelling of rain, singing a song
about love, joy and peace;
laughing, she took me by the hand,
led me a dance as lightly
as a cheery breeze, teasing leaves,
caressing a dove’s feathers,
running exciting fingers across time
and space as lovers might to each other,
keeping the dream ... alive

I asked her name, and her voice
(like a tinkling of bluebells)
oh, so subtly, caressed my heart
like the dove’s wing
while parading a glowing pregnancy
at Earth's battered gate
though half expecting to be kept out
for reconstructing its wintry world
by keeping the Sandman to his word
in demonstrating a capacity for peace,
keeping hope … alive

A glittering shower of sunny rain
brought an offer of shelter
from a friendly tree, leaves of green
already playing host
to assorted couples, some foreign,
but when I turned, that girl
in her new blue dress was gone;
I searched awhile, soaked through
to the skin before sensing how it was
the very quality of my sadness lifting me,
making me feel ... alive

Come sunshine, showers, joy, sadness,
spring wears a new dress just for us

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2011

[Note: An earlier version of this poem under the title 'Spring is a Girl in a Blue Print Dress' appears in Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]

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Tuesday 15 March 2011

All the Signs Point to Heart Failure

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

The link below is to my informal poetry reading on the 4th plinth in London's Trafalgar Square in 2009 as my contribution to Sir Antony Gormley's One and Other 'live part' project that took place that summer:

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T  [For now, at least, this link needs the latest Adobe Flash Player  and works best in Firefox; the archives website cannot run Flash but changes scheduled for later this year may well mean the link will open without it. Ignore any error message and give it a minute or so to start up. The video lasts an hour. ] RT 3/18

Now, as regular readers know well enough, just because I don’t relate to religion doesn’t mean I don’t care about those who do.

When gay people ask me why they should have to choose between their religion and their sexuality, my answer is always the same. They shouldn’t.

Homosexuality is neither a sin nor a crime although it is seen as both in some countries and in the eyes of some people; it is high time they all came into the 21st century and accepted that, since there are gay people from all manner of socio-cultural-religious backgrounds, sexuality has to be in the genes.

There is nothing ‘unnatural’ about same sex relationships; we are simply acting as nature intended for us.

Me, I have more respect for the diehard homophobe who speaks his or her mind than those hypocrites who continue to dress up their homophobia in politics, religion or other popular rhetoric to put us off the scent; to them all I say, get a decent life and let us gay men and women get on with our lives too.


ALL THE SIGNS POINT TO HEART FAILURE

An evangelical Christian
told me I’d go to Hell or worse
for being gay
if the world didn’t strike first
(such is its thirst for blood)
and make me suffer for going
with my nature

A Muslim cleric
told me much the same thing
another day
upon accosting me leaving a bar
known for its gay clientele
so a worse environment by far
than any Hell

Other religious people
at school, at work, wherever,
have called me ‘sinner’
for going against a God I never
believed in, choosing
to put my trust in Earth Mother
forever

One day I met a Christian
who told me it didn’t matter
a jot I was gay
(even if he’d rather I wasn’t)
for who was he to say
I’d go to Hell? He was certain
Jesus wouldn’t

An everyday Muslim
told me much the same thing
another day
as we chatted in a bar known
for its gay clientele
like two fallen angels doing
very well

It just goes to show,
being different isn’t different,
only human,
and humanity for some people
is the heart of religion,
to be cherished come what may,
straight or gay

Let religions break free
of their prejudices and bigotry
and maybe, one day,
they will see the world as it is,
a common humanity
created for the common good
to live in peace

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

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Monday 14 March 2011

Tears Of The Sun

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

Many thanks to ‘Mariam’ who contacted me to say she enjoys my blogs and prints out all the poems. I would rather readers buy my books, but fair enough.

I assume Mariam is a teacher since she also mentioned that she has read some of my poems in class although I should perhaps remind everyone that the copyright to all the poems I publish on my blogs is exclusively mine; readers should ask permission before reading them in any public arena, including a classroom, or it is technically a breach of copyright. While I have never refused anyone and am, indeed, always delighted to be asked, it is helpful for me to learn of any feedback, good or bad, from someone’s reading of my poems.

Since 2007, a number of teachers have used my poems to help kick-start class discussion on various subjects; street crime, global warming etc. and even, very occasionally, gay issues. I love the idea of the blog/s acting as an educational resource but it would be very helpful as well as interesting to know just when and where and how well (or badly) they are received.

Meanwhile....

This poem is a villanelle and appeared on the blog in April 2008, It is repeated today especially for ‘Emilie’ & ‘Jeanne’ & ‘Colin' who have been in touch over a period of time with some kind words to say about my villanelles and a special request for this one.

The world weeps and is quick to offer help when earthquakes and Tsunamis decimate humankind, yet war and poverty and HIV-AIDS are at it all the time...

TEARS OF THE SUN

Falling, tears of the sun
on a life-nurturing earth;
a weeping never done

For each man, woman
world-weary since birth,
falling, tears of the sun

For refugees on the run
yearning home and hearth,
a weeping never done

Civil wars, AIDS, famine,
of lonely prayers a dearth;
falling, tears of the sun

Terror, the new religion
at this 21st century’s birth,
a weeping never done

For the people’s politician
a quickening of stale breath;
falling, tears of the sun,
a weeping never done

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2017

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]

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