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.

Friday 18 May 2012

The Last Donkey Ride

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

Nature may be fickle, but so is human nature; the chances are whoever takes the last donkey ride will look around and see a coastline that’s nowhere near as sound or green as we see now or may have done centuries ago; even the sea is losing its wildlife to a polluted modernity. 

Humankind may we rail against nature where it wreaks havoc and tragedy, the greater irony being that, in our desperation to harness and make it serve our own ends, there is really little to choose between the two.

Most if not all we human beings are vain enough to think we deserve priority over the natural world. Could it be, though, that Earth Mother has other ideas?

THE LAST DONKEY RIDE

Time and again you have passed me by,
turned a cloth ear to cries from a heart
begging its release or at least some relief
from such pain as only they know
who roam  the shores of life asking Why?"
In spite of those willing to lend a hand
where the need is greatest, you  deny
ignore, the rhetoric of discretion being
much the better part of valour

So weary am I of being taken for a ride,
on wings of a prayer or bored donkeys
at the seaside reassuring children
how sand shells tell tales of a golden age
not yet spent … where the sea is as safe
as the sky is blue, grass is green and corn
grows high, hopes for world peace
alive and well if but sailing on driftwood 
among time’s uneasy swell

How long can it last, me doing my best
for kith and kin, you abandoning us
to empty words, promises of better days,
world left railing against humankind’s
inhumanity, sure to get the better of me
without even a native dignity to cover
my blushes as they strip me bare, caring
little more in their naivety for my decline
than our mutual salvation?

Hear me, your Earth Mother in distress,
ye who engineer the Politics of Progress 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]


This collection is still in print, but only on sale in the UK.  All readers, including any outside the UK, can obtain (signed) copies direct from me at a generous blogger discount on [retail price + shipping]. Enquiries to: rogertab@aol.com with ‘Poetry collection’ or ‘Blog reader’ in the subject field.


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