Bailiffs On The Doorstep OR Comeuppance

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

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T [I am often asked for this link to my poetry reading on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square, my contribution to sculptor Antony Gotmlry' s One and Other 'live sculpture' project in 1999. For now, at least, though, 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

I have been more than a little anxious about getting my biopsy results next Wednesday. I dare say that is why I recently dreamed I opened my front door to Death. Ah, but Earth Mother slipped past him to stand beside me. Now I feel confident of getting the better of him ... for now, at least.

A friend recently confessed he did not know what to say to me, whether to wish me luck with the biopsy or ignore the subject altogether. I could only say that it is always nice to know we feature positively in other people’s thoughts.

Whether on the world stage or in our own living rooms, we are called upon time and again to make choices which, as often as not, find us stuck between a rock and a hard place. Do we speak up or say nothing rather than chance making things worse (or better)? Do we let actions speak louder than words ... and risk making things worse (or better)?

Perhaps we should ask ourselves for whom we risk making things worse or better? Are we motivated by altruism or self-interest?

BAILIFFS ON THE DOORSTEP or COMEUPPANCE

There's a banging
on my door, but what can I do?
No point in my turning
a deaf ear, everyone knows
only too well I'm living here
(Door forced ajar)

Who does he think he is,
presuming so to call Time’
before I'm ready?

I will appeal to a kinder nature
to grant my reprieve,
for I'm not ready yet to leave
this place, despite
its worst flaws, neglecting peace
in pursuit of wars
on those who would avoid
well-trodden paths
of reason and need, seeking
only to feed themselves,
procreating in their own image
a mirage of Fate when,
in truth, only themselves to blame,
though the world rise
eagerly enough to its bait, lured
by a glare of Public Relations
designed to fool us all into thinking
altruism rules OK

Oh, but let them, bang away;
none may enter here, I'll keep
a foot in the door

Better the damn door
left ajar, let Earth Mother
slip in (hopefully)
with a reprieve for any part
I've played in faults and flaws
at other people’s doors

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011