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.

Wednesday 19 March 2014

Anatomy of Chaos

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

We may not be rich, but even those of us blessed with life’s simpler, everyday comforts need to count our blessings whenever, from time to time, they may seem somewhat thin on the ground. 

Millions of people worldwide are struggling to survive in appalling conditions; floods, drought, famine, lack of clean drinking water, overcrowded refugee camps, extreme poverty, war…We may catch glimpses of these on TV and spare them a thought, only to go on and watch a movie, fun quiz, chat show or whatever…

There is no point in feeling guilty, just very fortunate, and if awareness of the world’s ills does not help us keep a sense of proportion, it damn well should.

ANATOMY OF CHAOS 

Carpet stains
greeting the dawn,
yawning
away with bare feet,
flip-flops,
mouths dripping
coffee,
cornflakes, butter
on toast…
chair legs banging on
about
how chaos rules
OK

Carpet stains,
epitome of a life
enjoyed,
fibre heart strings
singing along
with garden birds,
grasshoppers,
teenage rock moves
and ma
performing a star
turn
at the kitchen
sink

Carpet stains,
alive, but only just;
sunset
soaking its fibres
with shades
of red and yellow,
like autumn
saying its goodbyes
to faces
at windows looking
for ways
to make the best 
of things

Carpet stains,
put to bed with wine
and candles,
left to soak up
evidence
of home comforts,
world politics
redirecting its refugees
via short-cuts
to Paradise Road,
splinters
of broken glass
overlooked

There will be blood...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2014

Labels: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Thursday 12 January 2012

Some Days Smack Of Burning Rubber


[Update 9/6/17: After weeks of heated campaigning and debate, the UK has a hung Parliament, the worst possible result for everyone because now the Brexit path ahead is unclear and uncertain. No one likes uncertainty, least of all the financial markets. I have to confess, I am very disappointed with the result. At heart, I am no Conservative, but I voted for and hoped for a Tory majority simply because I believe passionately in Brexit. However, I also believe passionately in democracy. Britain is divided, many people uncertain about what they want or expect in the immediate years ahead, No political figure here appears to command the level of universal trust, respect and loyalty that a Prime Minister (or any leader) needs and deserves. Brexit or no Brexit, though, we can - as always in the political arena - but hope for the best, and get on with or daily lives.] RT

We all have them from time to time...

So when was your last really, really BAD day?

SOME DAYS SMACK OF BURNING RUBBER

Shadows like ghosts burning rubber on the highway
come dead of night

One mischief-making ghost gets to play at navigator
for old times sake

Driver takes a shortcut across a field of bad dreams
sprouting like four-leaf clover

Ghosts like shadows ready to drive a hard bargain
with the living for their favours

Driver on a Big Wheel screaming for the fun of a fair
under an acid rain of spreadsheets

Driver on a shrinking wheel, Gulliver lost in Lilliput
without a map

Highway coursing the driver’s veins as sure as boards
turning an actor inside out

Driver’s eyes opening. Wheel of Life resumes a pace
unworthy of a ghost

Home stretch, final act, driver’s waking up to a kinder
endgame than limbo…?

Shadows like ghosts burning rubber on the highway
come dead of night
  
Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

[Note: this poem is one of 100+ that will appear in my new collection Tracking the Torchbearer due for publication by late February/early April; like my previous collections, it will be divided into (7) themed sections for easy reading.]

Labels: , , , , , , , , , , , ,