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.

Monday 17 October 2016

On the Nature of Love


I have often heard people say they feel they have missed out on love, and it saddens them because they feel life has left them feeling incomplete.  Perhaps they have never been ‘in love’ or a partner has died young or a lover may have let them down in their eyes…

Whatever, love is neither so easily defined nor confined to the context of being ‘in love’. As I have said before on the blogs (and dare say will say again) love takes many shapes and forms that can be as real, inspiring and life-shaping as a lover.

Me, I haven’t had a steady partner for many years and we only had a short time together, but knowing him was a learning curve in many ways, not least in learning to take nothing for granted, especially love. It is possible, even likely, that platonic love between good friends can be as enriching in its own way as the love shared by lovers. A love of certain places or simply for travelling and experiencing new places can be wonderful nor less so the love of home life and everything it means to us, even if we rarely if ever step out of that particular comfort zone.

Different people want and need different things from life, but so long as we keep our eye on love, and always remain aware of and nurture its presence, the least likely we are to ever look back on our lives and find them wanting.

Few people, in my experience, can say they feel wholly fulfilled, Yes, I envy those that can, of course I do, but we should never let envy of others blind us to our own blessings, even when the latter sometimes seem somewhat thin on the ground; be assured they will pick up, but only if we open up to them, fill our senses with them, see them for what they are through our own eyes, not someone else’s.  Yes, I know it’s pretty obvious, but SO many people fail to see the proverbial wood for trees planted by someone else.

As for sexuality, it embraces love, yes, but love is bigger than that, and anyone who believes in love needs to be big enough to admit it, socio-cultural-religious prejudices notwithstanding, or they are 
hypocrites...to say the least.

‘Where there is love, there is life.’ - Mahatma Gandhi

ON THE NATURE OF LOVE

Hey, listen out…

Hear that lasting beat 
whose remit to feed
the sweetest memories
to a hungry heart.
long after its life force
carried away
on wings of a day set aside
for sorrow

Hey, look there…

Discover cloud shapes
whose remit to relay
best (and worst) times
to an inner eye
long after losing sight
of friendly faces
to hands on a wall clock
stuck fast

Hey, have a smell…

Where grass is greenest
and leaves bring
the scent of summer roses
to the mind
all but closing down
in keeping
with a winter all but gone
to earth

Hey, get the taste…

For honey on the tongue
on what we may
liken to a ‘soul’ having left
its lasting imprint
on such as we may care
to call ‘spirit’
in the lamentable absence
of a poem

Ever get the feeling…?

Earth Mother, nurturing
the beauty
of our seasons going
full cycle,
constructive comment
even on dreams
of each hopeful tomorrow
left unfulfilled

Hey, reach up, touch…

Where the heart beats out
its hopes
for such peace and love
as may or may not
run true, but much the more 
worth the dreaming
for filling all my senses
with you

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

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Friday 2 May 2014

First Impressions


Have you ever wondered what a baby thinks as he or she opens their eyes for the first time in a mother’s arms? Okay, a baby can’t talk, but who says we can’t think for ourselves even from the very start? We feel reassured, safe...

Ah, but for how long?

It is one of humankind's greater tragedies that many children are born into an environment that will give them neither the love nor care they deserve.

With luck, we are welcomed into the world with love. A sense of the power of love passes from mother to child, and will stay with us always.

Yes, with luck. Sadly it is not the same for all of us, and we have to look elsewhere to discover the power of love for ourselves. Some of us do, others never will. There are so many unwanted children and young people in the world who deserve better.  I have known some people who have gone through the Care system and not only survived, but done well for themselves. Yet, I have also known others who have ended up spending most of their lives in and out of prison, never knowing that wonderful sense of belonging peculiar to family life and being loved as a matter of course, no matter what. My own family life was flawed (whose isn’t?).Even so, that immeasurable sense of belonging helped shape my formative years in a very positive way.

A sense of belonging should never be underestimated. Tragically, it drives some young people to become part of a street gang; gangs are often seen as a substitute family, albeit a poor one. I once knew a family whose children became involved in a local gang culture. When one of the sons went to jail for a gang related offence, the parents saw it as a wake-up call, moved away and set about mending their broken family life. That was years ago. All the children have turned out well and take their own parental responsibilities very seriously; their children will never want for love, care, and a positive sense of direction.

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

The first thing I saw on opening my eyes
was a love in my mother’s face
I hadn’t yet learned the words to describe,
but sensed I was in a safe place

The first thing I felt as I opened my eyes
was my mother’s arms cradling me;
I hadn’t yet learned the words to describe,
but sensed it was a good place to be

The first thought I had on opening my eyes
was that this was but the start 
of living by and learning words to describe
the love in Earth Mother’s heart

In a world without words, only its first cries
find reassurance in well-meant promises

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

[Note: This poem was first published under the title Opening Up to Love in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]


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Monday 20 May 2013

Twilight on a Lake OR Nature, an Everyman's Guide to Infinity

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


As I grow old, some memories dim while others take on a whole new perspective, probably because we don''t always realize at the time just how much certain occasions mean to us or those with whom we get to share them. 

I have made some changes to this villanelle that I wrote during a wonderful weekend in the Lake District some years ago.

 Twilight at Ashness Bridge (Lake District)

TWILIGHT ON A LAKE or NATURE, AN EVERYMAN'S GUIDE TO INFINITY

Though pain a part
in our lives surely take,
play on, glad heart

There is a beauty art
strives its copies to make
though pain a part

When life falls apart,
and fragile promises break,
play on, glad heart

Cherish from the start
each dip in passion’s lake
though pain a part

Where the stars chart
our every move, mistake,
play on, glad heart

May love’s winged dart
find its mark for our sake;
though pain a part,
play on, glad heart

Copyright R. N. Taber 2003; 2016

[Note An earlier version of this poem was first published in an anthology, 'Chasing Shadows', Poetry Now [Forward Press] 2003 and subsequently in 1st eds. of The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004; revised ed. in e-format in preparation. The poem was slightly revised in 2013, and an alternative title, added 2016.]

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Monday 3 December 2012

The Lovers OR Quality Time

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

Today’s poem is a favourite of mine and appeared in several poetry magazines/anthologies before I included it in my first major collection; it was written in 1991 after a conversation over a garden hedge with an elderly man whose wife had died the previous year. He talked about the spirituality of love and togetherness in such a way that I was full of admiration and close to tears.

THE LOVERS or QUALITY TIME

Scarce we talked of love,
scarce we talked at all

I would scan the paper
while you got the tea
or prune my roses
while you watched me
out of the corner of one eye
at your herbaceous border
busy with a trowel

Scarce we talked of love,
scarce we talked at all 

I would fix whatever
while you made us a cuppa,
and when I’d finished
we would sip comfortably
in our favourite places
glancing up now and then to
read each other’s faces

Scarce we talked of love,
scarce we talked at all 

Now I prattle away
in a misty rain,
bring you roses where you lie
in a patch of cemetery,
birds for company,
wondering why, oh why?
Again and again

Scarce we talked of love
scarce we talked at all

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001

[Note: this poem was first published as 'The Lovers' in Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001; rev. ed. in e-format in preparation.]

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