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 21 June 2013

H-I-S-T-O-R-Y, Time's Footprints


Sometimes, we can be walking along without a care in the world, and then we spot something, as often as not quite trivial, that triggers a chain reaction taking us to places we would have much preferred to avoid…and once there, struggle to find our way back again.

It is true to say that time's footprints are sometimes those of hobnail boots, all but obliterating any prints that have gone before although, as an open heart is to bigotry, so humanity is to inhumanity, and all the more capable of regeneration. 

H-I-S-T-O-R-Y, TIME'S FOOTPRINTS

Scraps of a letter floating down a gutter,
pricking the occasional comfort zone

Wondering about blue ink stains, inwardly
debating the when, whose, and why

Doesn’t matter, of course, all history now,
heading in pieces for the nearest drain

Yet, someone had once made time to write,
feel, read (send?) decide to throw away

Secrets passing between lovers found out,
and punished, disowned…ever forgiven?

Friends, family, stranded on opposite sides
of some socio-cultural-religious divide?

Had someone discovered, betrayed, turned
finer feelings into anonymous ink stains?

Tearful, over scraps of a letter, potentially
sucking the life out of any one of us

Bad memories eagerly mowed down by rolls
of thunder, over anxious to leave no trace

Rain! Gutter, a river, scraps gone to sewage
under a city that stinks of rotten secrets

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]


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