Growing Wise to Ways of the World

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

A reader writes that “My partner and I love your tree poems, and always find them a comfort and inspiration. Can we have another please? Well, many thanks for that, and it’s my pleasure to oblige.

I can only hope they - and many if not most of you, will enjoy this new poem that  has taken me down the sunny side of Memory Lane and helped restore flagging spirits; I can always rely on nature to engage with and rally the latter, even when I cannot get out and about to enjoy it  for real. Yet, no less real is the presence of nature in any of us if we will but let it in; no way does the creator-performer in any art form have a monopoly on nature unless in so far as it is their raison d'être to provide food for thought.

GROWING WISE TO WAYS OF WORLD 

Once, I had a friend
that would always listen
to my worst concerns,
ease the troubled mind
of a child who didn’t yet understand
the ways of the world

Once, I had a friend
that always knew just how
to cheer a sad heart,
bring light to any darkness,
company to ease a growing loneliness
for ways of the world 

As the child took on
the seasons of life, it learned
to take each as it came,
the good, the bad, the ugly,
let the heart sing even as it would weep
for ways of the world 

Now and then, the child
would return to bond yet again
with its old friend
in dreams if not reality
save a mind-body-spirit close to free fall
for ways of the world 

Though a time must come
when death us do part, old friend,
your spirit lives on
in all who care to engage
with an ages-old wisdom being passed on,
generation to generation 

Whenever ways of the world would defeat us,
find new life forces to be had in its trees

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

Take care, folks, and be sure to nurture a positive thinking mindset,

Hugs,

Roger 

 

A Life in the Day of a Couch Potato

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

A reader, Helen, has kindly written in to say she and her family enjoy my poetry and she thinks my blogs I deserve more followers. Well, thanks a lot, Helen, encouragement is always welcome. Poetry, though, is not everyone’s cup of tea and I am just happy that the blogs are still going strong after six years via my Google Plus site that links to new and historical posts/poems. I have set the statistics so Google does not count my own views; this gives me a clearer picture of readership. 

Now, today’s little poem was written way back in 1979. Sadly, it strikes me as being even more relevant now than it was then. A neighbour had been complaining to me about retirement, saying how he missed ‘the buzz of real life’ because all there was for the likes of retired people was a second hand existence by courtesy of television and cinema. I suggested keeping up with friends, getting out and about and doing things, going places…pleasures for which we often have little or no time when working full-time and/or bringing up a family…? (Mind you, we need to make time.) He simply shrugged and went indoors to watch an afternoon soap opera.

No, I’m not knocking TV, or the fact that we live in a Digital Age, but now I am retired myself, I enjoy keeping up with friends, getting out and about and doing things, going places…the simple pleasures for which it was often hard making time for when working.

Following a bad fall in summer 2014, I was housebound for months and spent a good year or so learning to walk again. I live alone so TV was a great comfort and companionship (of sorts) in between writing up the blogs, three sessions of (ten) physiotherapy exercises a day and chatting to friends who were kind enough to drop by and help out on a regular basis all the while I could barely walk. I missed getting out and about and do so now as much as I can; even though walking is still quite painful, I have a sturdy oak walking stick, and it is always worth making the effort.

So when I talk to young people rushing home to spend hours on social media, I can’t help feeling they are missing out…

No, I am not knocking on-line social networking, but there can be no substitute for real-life, face to face companionship and banter among friends, not to mention getting out and about in the sunshine…can there? Now I am older (71) and less mobile, it is harder to get out and about and meet people, but (still) always worth making the effort.

Social media. the world wide web, TV...all have a place in our lives, of course they do, but no one's real life balance should be tipped in their favour...surely?

Yes, cyber fun can be good fun, but there's no fun quite like sharing fun in the real-life company of friends, forming and developing interpersonal skills that can teach us as much about ourselves as other people, and will see us though the best part of a lifetime. Oh, and it really isn't a case of you can't teach an old dog new (digital) tricks; this old dog knows a few, and all the better for having learned a good few of the non-digital variety...

A LIFE IN THE DAY OF A COUCH POTATO

Little birds singing on the garden wall

I’ll not write you up;

you’re, too sentimental

for the Age, they say

As one to another you brightly call

I’ll shut the window;

a new soap opera's about

to start on TV  

Bright sunlight distorting everything

Screen-lined faces

like grotesque cartoons

in a Hall of Mirrors

Let's close the curtains, better already

Comfortable now...
with armchair perspectives
on the world

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001; 2017

[Note: This poem has been revised since it first appeared under the title 'To a Sunny Day' in Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001.]

L-I-F-E, Fair Skies Punctuated by Patches of Dark Cloud

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To several readers who have said they enjoy my blogs but prefer not to register as followers for various reasons, thank you for your kind words and it doesn't matter whether you choose to 'follow' or not; it is more than enough for me that you visit them. I would also like to welcome any new readers who may also be interested to know that I add (and remove) historical as well as current posts/poems from this and my gay-interest blog to my Google Plus site on an almost daily basis, not least to save anyone who is interested in my work having to browse 1,000+ poems. [I don't publish comments, but you are welcome to email me any time; the address is in the blog heading.]

https://plus.google.com/118347623673930289606/posts

A small child more years ago than I care to remember, I well recall looking up one wintry day and seeing a splendid patch of blue among darkening clouds; that image has stayed with me ever since. (I am 70 now)

No matter how ominous, threatening or just faintly disturbing any clouds in my life, my inner eye has never (quite) lost sight of that patch of blue, as good a metaphor for love, peace, hope and happiness as any, surely, however elusive they may seem sometimes...


Life is not, of course, mostly blue skies for everyone. I commented as much to a disabled friend once whose response I have never forgotten. He said, 'True, but what life can't give us, no matter how hard we try, imagination can almost compensate for if we try hard enough. Not the same, no, but it's enough for most of us if we try to make the most of what we have and make our peace with what we can't have. Whatever, it's down to us; sink or enjoy a good swim..."

This poem is a villanelle.

L-I-F-E, FAIR SKIES PUNCTUATED BY PATCHES OF DARK CLOUD

Making a (far) kinder world with you,
a bright smile for everyone,
though clouds among patches of blue   

Whether exploring points of view,
enjoying life, just having fun...
making a (far) kinder world with you

No matter a storm passing through,
find our love, its gamut run,
though clouds among patches of blue

Like a brave new dream come true,
(harvest of the sun)
making a (far) kinder world with you

Dark death, its worst can never do,
love's victory already won,
though clouds among patches of blue

Among ghosts, such friends we knew
ere theirs and our day done;
making a (far) kinder world with you,
though clouds among patches of blue

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2016

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Blue Skies Punctuated by Patches of Cloud' in an anthology, A Poetic Formula, Poetry Today (Forward Press),2001.]

Where's Robin?

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Gay or straight, people without a partner or close loved ones, for whatever reason, can feel very lonely; it can so easily seem as if everyone else has someone, and we feel shut out. Yet, love comes in many shapes and forms. We don't have to be in a relationship or even a family to be comforted and inspired by love wherever it makes itself felt.

Simply going for a walk and soaking up the landscape can bring us into contact with other people and help us find words to go further than that first 'hello'. Then, of course, there is always the power of imagination; reading has taken me to some wonderful places and introduced me to a range of wonderful characters. I used to love reading and miss it now that my eyes get too tired to read as often as I would like. Earth Mother, too, is a great comforter, inviting us to share and be inspired by the beauty of the natural world for all its unpredictability.

There is only one cure for loneliness; think positive and do something about it. Oh, and never for one second believe you are the only lonely person in your locality. The trick is to home in on a feeling for love, nurture it, and leave the rest to nature and human nature…

WHERE’S ROBIN? 

Two people meet and fall in love,

live happy-ever-after,

though tears of grief and pain

among sounds of joy

and laughter like drops of acid rain

in leafy evergreen

Some never fall in love,

stay single ever after,

conceal tears of grief and pain,

among sounds of joy

and laughter like drops of acid rain 

in leafy evergreen

Oh, how love confounds us,

many its shapes

and sounds joining with nature

to bring happiness,

like the song of redbreast rarely seen

in leafy evergreen

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001; 2015

[A slightly different version of this poem appeared in Hands of Time, Poetry Now [Forward Press] 2001 and subsequently in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

Sunny Days, Passing Storms

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Many if not most of us have to weather a winter of the heart at some time during our lives; sometimes a winter that never quite passes, but surrenders to spring and other, kinder seasons of life as it proceeds to beat for the best rather than the worst of times. It is then we most need to be reassured that we are loved; it is love, and love alone, that comforts us and will see us through to another spring. It may be the love of family, friends, or perhaps a pet. Whatever, can there be anything sadder than a person having no love in their life to which they can turn for comfort and inspiration in his or her hour of need?

I once worked with a Home Library Service. Among many lovely people I visited on a regular basis was a very old lady who lived alone. I asked her once if she was lonely. She replied, “In the sense that I miss people, yes. But how can I be lonely for long in the company of so many ghosts who love me as I love them? Memory, you know, doesn’t have to be a well of tears. It can just as easily be a garden of all things bright and beautiful that will never stop growing unless you stop caring for them. Stop caring, “she added with a dazzling smile, “and you’re all but dead already.” 

SUNNY DAYS, PASSING STORMS 

Wintry sunshine, breaking through

a fine mist of fun things done,

summer places known, kinder times

to memory consigned yet gladly retrieved

now and then when we are lonely, to enjoy

all over again like a toy always kept

in a special place that’s yours, mine, ours,

for rediscovering things that matter

more than rose-tinted tears of self-pity;

the simple joys of peace of mind

secured by friendship’s hugs, kisses,

cuddles, confiding poems, making plans

(though they be but daydreams)

and caring about each other, even apart;

let fiction against fact conspire

to distract us and a storm break, together

we’ll weather whatever challenges

the dark side of nature may throw down

or a gossipy neighbour just across the street,

curtains (forever) unsubtly twitching

No friendship is surer than upon itself

freely feeding or love as enduring,

no matter that some seize any opportunity

to redefine, malign its intimacy ...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2014

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in first editions of Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; revised edition in e-format in preparation.]

Making Peace With Christmas

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

Now, I have never minded being on my own at Christmas and my kinder ghosts make sure I never feel lonely. I enjoy doing my own thing, in my own time, and in my own way. It’s selfish perhaps, but it is a delight not having to make an effort for anyone, but just be myself. Traditionally, I run the gamut of emotions from past sadness and regrets to being (eventually) reconciled with and thankful for the Here and Now…those ghosts dearest to me always making sure any demons don’t get a look in.

For those that can spend a happy time with family and friends, that’s wonderful, but being alone doesn’t have to mean being lonely; you don't have to be with anyone to enjoy fond thoughts, happy memories, favourite music or even just a feel-good movie/ programme on the radio or TV likely to inspire a sense of peace and love.

(Image from the Internet)

MAKING PEACE WITH CHRISTMAS

It was the night before Christmas
and the world was uncaring and grey
as I made my way home
from bright, cheerful, carols in The Square
knowing that when I turned the key
in my front door there’ll be no one there
just like so many Christmases before

I took my time along the road
and the first snowflakes began to fall
as I made my way home
joyful voices stinging, ringing, in my ears
remembering how once I’d turn the key
in my front door, and you’d be there for me
just like long-ago Christmases before

I passed a tree, its leaves glistening,
and seemed to hear your voice calling me
to hurry, hurry, home
if only to be warm and safe from harm
if oh, so, alone, shutting the door
on a world  making out that all things holy
embrace even the lonely

It was the night before Christmas
and the world was uncaring and grey
as I made my way home
from bright, cheerful, carols in The Square
knowing that when I turned the key
in my front door, the dearest of all my ghosts
would be waiting for me there

Love, lifting me so as it always does,
I made my peace with Christmas

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

The Snowflake

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

A BIG thank you also goes to those of you who have expressed pleasure at the videos my friend Graham and I have uploaded to YouTube; we probably would not have continued without so much encouragement. Oh, the hits are relatively small compared to videos uploaded by others, but, yet again, surprising for poetry videos. I only hope you have enjoyed the poems as much as Graham’s photography: We only have time to publish a few each year but be sure there are more in the pipeline.
http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

To those of you who are enjoying the fiction blog , I hope you will continue to enjoy the story lines I plan to serialise during the years ahead; there will be a mixture of gay-interest and general titles since, as with poetry, I don’t see them as separate genres within a genre. [It is always particularly rewarding when heterosexual readers get in touch to say they have enjoyed a gay-interest story like Dog Roses or a poem like Three Little Words]:

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.com

Meanwhile ...

Truly, a thing of beauty is a joy forever. Now, ever looked closely at a snowflake? It is beautiful, only for a moment in time, yet saved to our personal space forever ...

[Image from the Internet]

Here's wishing you all, dear readers, a greater share of happiness, peace and love... whoever and wherever you are, and whatever the season of your life.

THE SNOWFLAKE

I spotted a snowflake on a leaf,

watched it settle for seconds there,

and in those precious seconds saw the face

of my love appear

Eyes that glittered like the snow

smiled back at me as you used to do,

and in that smile I relived the happy times

we’ve  shared, sad times too

By the light of a solstice moon,

snowflake and leaf began to dance,

and their togetherness recalled how we met,

not quite by chance

Lips as red as a robin’s breast

kissed mine, like a breath of spring

gently insisting that you to me and me to you

are its life, love, everything

You were my snowflake on a leaf

seconds before a feisty white flurry

interrupted our waltz, Earth Mother insisting

we home in on eternity

I spotted a snowflake on a leaf,

watched it settle for seconds there,

and in those precious seconds saw the face

of my Christmas appear

[London; December 2011]

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

At the End of the Day..

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This poem first appeared on the blog in September 2007 and has been requested again today by ‘Maureen’ for ‘my dear husband Jim who has kept me happy and snug in bed every night for the past 25 years.’

Happy silver wedding anniversary! I’m sure we all wish Maureen and Jim many more years together.

AT THE END OF THE DAY

At the end of the day,
darkness wraps us in black satin
and (if we’re lucky) takes us
to bed and tucks us in

At the end of the day,
darkness cloaks us in black satin
and (if we’re lucky) keeps
the cold at bay

At the end of the day,
darkness hoods us in black satin
and (if we’re lucky) a sandman
helps us see

At the end of the day,
darkness hides us in black satin
and (if we’re lucky) dawn
means us no harm

At the end of the day,
we can but trust in black satin
to keep our darker selves
under wraps

At the end of the day,
darkness buries us in black satin
and (if we’re lucky) leaves us
to rest in peace

[From: Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]