Taking Stock OR A Sense of Perspective

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

I am not happy with the new blogger and wasn't when I was invited to try it some time ago. I had hoped we bloggers might  be given a choice  to continue in the old format, but it appears not, so I may not be blogging here for much longer. It is typical - in my personal experience - that so many people and organizations, even some shops, give little thought to how many older people like myself  - who do not have i-phones or android and struggle with IT - are  easily confused, especially those of us living alone and have been struggling with other health issues long before the Covid-19 pandemic. However, I will see how I get on with the new format when needs must ... but am not optimistic. Meanwhile, I will continue in the old format while I still can ...

Today's poem last appeared on the blog in 2014.

People often tell me that as we grow old(er) we spend more time looking back because there are fewer reason to look forward, and it is this ‘negativity’ that  drags us down and others with us. I don’t agree. Looking back can be inspirational, stirring mind and spirit as once it was stirred by the sheer energy and imagination of earlier years, to that sense of spirituality intrinsic to nature and human nature and which may or may not have anything to do with religion.

True, taking stock of one's life can be a scary business; we invariably find self and life wanting. Yet, it can be a comfort too, reminding ourselves that we are but human and our failures are as much down to that as our successes. It reminds us, too, that we are as we are, live as we live…and there is time yet to open our eyes to more of the same (and its multiple variations) before they close forever upon one perspective at least on the art of being human.

I wrote this poem (a villanelle) in a reflective mood on Brighton pier. As regular readers will know, I have been going to Brighton since I was a very young child and my mother would take me during school holidays. I will be 75 later this year so have a lot of taking stock to do from time to time.

It is so true that taking stock of our lives may not always be as rewarding a process as we might like, but it can (if we let it)  help us remember who we are, how we got this far, and even (maybe) lend us the insight to right a few wrongs, make good some mistakes, identify and work through the fears as well as the more positive life forces that drive us ...

This poem is a villanelle.

TAKING STOCK or A SENSE OF PERSPECTIVE

On Brighton pier,

empathy with a feisty sea,

a lifetime to share

Child of yesteryear

spotted waving cheerfully

on Brighton pier

Mist starts to clear,

waves splashing excitedly,

a lifetime to share

Cloud faces as queer

as folk, smile convincingly

on Brighton pier

Listen, and I can hear

a world in perfect harmony,

a lifetime to share

Of life-death, no fear,

for engaging with positivity

on Brighton pier,

a lifetime to share

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2005; 2018

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by

R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]

A Seaside Calendar

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

I spent another lovely day in Brighton, Sussex (UK) recently. I love it there and always enjoy time spent at the seaside. 

I have read poems ‘on location’ in Brighton for You Tube that some of you might enjoy although don’t expect the quality of the videos to be up to BBC standards; just follow the link and click on ‘videos’ to browse and view any that might interest you. (I read different poems on each Brighton video):

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

Meanwhile, as a song goes with which UK readers especially will be familiar, Oh, I do like to be beside the seaside...

{Photo: Pendower, Conwall, taken from the Internet.]

A SEASIDE CALENDAR 

Laughter, on summer-scented air

bursts on jaunty wing;

glad eyes shine the dipping gull,

excite twin waves,

returns excelling. Sun on sand.

Oh world, on hand 

to greet me, make or break, 

whatever

Joy but hushed, the autumn year

devours the sky;

sad eyes shape the dipping gull,

endure each wave,

returns excelling. Sun on sand.

Oh world, on hand 

to greet me, make or break,

whatever...

Hopes reviewed, wintry ways

break their silence;

watery eyes applaud a lone bird,

brave each wave,

returns excelling. Sun on sand.

Oh world, on hand

to greet me, make or break,

whatever...

Comings and goings of n-o-i-s-e

in playful flight;

wide eyes consume a mating pair,

glide twin waves, 

returns excelling. Sun on sand.

Oh. world, on hand 

to greet me, make or break.

whatever...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2000; 2018

[Note: an earlier version of this poem appears in Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]