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.

Thursday 9 July 2020

Kingdom Come, an Eco-Artist's Impression

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

Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2010

While  the coronavirus is not on the wane everywhere just yet, and second waves of it are all but inevitable, climate change is unlikely to go away at all; we only have to look at what is happening in Iceland to see how real is the threat that has been looming across the world for years, and underestimated - if not conveniently put to one side - by successive world leaders. A reader asks, do I think Covid-19 could be linked to climate change? Well, I have no idea, any more than I suspect has anyone else, but I wouldn't be surprised ...

What are we doing to the planet? How many more trees must be felled, wildlife lose their habitats (and lives) on land and in the seas before humankind realizes how short sighted it is being? (The old adage is so true, that we rarely - if ever - appreciate what we have until we lose it.)

Will future generations forgive us? (I suspect with great difficulty, if at all.)

It is all very well to acknowledge global warming, but how much longer can we shrug off any blame for it? it? The time to make reparation is by positive action NOW, surely? How many more world conferences and all but meaningless gestures before our politicians risk upsetting this lobby or that and get to grips with the longer-term consequences of playing ostrich?

Too lightly, many people continue to brush such questions and issues aside. After all, they argue, there is plenty of time to save the planet.

Ah, but is there…? It is an old but significant truism that time waits for no one.

Yes, our politicians claim to empathise with Green campaigners, but could they perhaps do (far) more to back up their word with actions…or could it be they are but paying lip service to increasing electorate (and business) concerns?

At school, I once overheard my Religious Education teacher refer to Armageddon as 'the death of  common sense' to which my art teacher commented that it would be an appropriate theme for graffiti art among the corridors of power just about anywhere in the world. 70+ years on, I am inclined to agree with both.

How dare our so-called 'betters' be complacent, close their eyes to unpalatable home truths for fear of losing out in the short term. Too many politicians are hot on rhetoric, at election times in particular, but - as always - the devil is in the detail, and invariably less convincing for anyone who has the time or patience to shovel away  at the rhetoric and see what lies beneath..

Another reader wrote in recently to ask, "We are a common humanity on a common Earth so where is any sense of common responsibility regarding Green issues?"

KINGDOM COME, AN ECO-ARTIST'S IMPRESSION

The sky is red
where once it was blue;
trees turning yellow;
streams, trickles of blood
on a baby's cot...
Time, caught taking a nap
in Earth Mother’s bed

The forest is dead
where once trees grew tall,
birds would nest,
one beast best another
as required…
by nature’s rule of thumb,
its kingdom come

The world, gone quiet
where once people played,
would laugh and sing,
yet sure to best one another
as required …
by nature’s rule of thumb,
our kingdom come

The sky is red
where once it was blue;
trees, turning yellow;
Earth Mother last heard of
treading mud,
weeping the world’s playing
Truth or Dare...?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

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Wednesday 27 May 2020

At the End of the Day

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

We should always try and make the most of each day to its very end  if only because tomorrow is another story altogether; rarely more so than now as the C-19 coronavirus continues to spread across the world.

We need to make the most of the natural world, too, before humankind destroys even more swathes of it for its own convenience. While it is true that more people are waking up to their responsibilities regarding its protection, I still see people casually dropping their rubbish in the street (recyclable and otherwise) and/or leaving picnic sites strewn with the same and/or tossing plastic bottles into the sea without a thought for its marine inhabitants ...

Carpe Diem, yes, but with due care for the environment as well as ourselves and others; there is no room for complacency, assuming all will be well since there will always be someone else to make it right; that 'someone else' is no more or less than You-Me-Us, the definitive collective consciousness.

AT THE END OF THE DAY

Jaded sunshine like an amber glow
after a summer shower,
logo proclaiming peace and love;
songbirds on cue;
summer, bursting with pride and joy,
wishing us kind dreams

A pink glow infiltrating grey clouds,
tips of angels’ wings
spying out the lie of borrowed time;
jet lag moon
among laid back stars fodder enough
for a wide-awake media

A grey squirrel turning over garbage
is quick to turn up its nose
at an envelope marked ‘Top Secret’;
kids trespassing a building site
find ancient skulls, bane of developers
gift to archaeology

Night falls, harbinger of sleep waiting
in the wings, time’s hopeful
understudies groomed for second best;
world’s "betters"
last seen flogging half dead horses 
with  Apollo’s  tee shirt

[From: Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]









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Saturday 7 February 2015

Rites of Silence, Fingers of Blame OR Survival, a Collective Responsibility


Time and again, we feel inclined to silently lament how there is nothing we can do about this or that, while expecting someone to do something.

There is always something we can do, even if it is only to lend someone a helping hand or shoulder to cry on or (better still, more often than not) speak up for them.

Arguments rage worldwide while fingers of blame point to the damage humankind is inflicting on the planet. Indeed, there seems to be a majority conscience on the streets that something needs to be done…before it is too late for future generations.

So just whose ear does Earth Mother have, and how effective can we expect it to be, the voice of this majority conscience demanding our leaders listen to and respect our greater hopes and worst fears…and whose silence is deafening?

'Throughout history, it has been the inaction of those who could have acted; the indifference of those who should have known better; the silence of the voice of justice when it mattered most; that has made it possible for evil to triumph.' - Haile Selassie

This poem is a villanelle.

RITES OF SILENCE, FINGERS OF BLAME or SURVIVAL, A COLLECTIVE RESPONSIBILITY

We've heard Earth Mother crying
dutifully considered speaking up often
but chose to say...what, nothing? 

Wherever our senses reaching,
(restless dreams, at work or play even)
we've heard Earth Mother crying

Finally placed on a war footing,
in all conscience asking we be forgiven,
but chose to say...what, nothing?

A welcome peace celebrating
an end to all battles hard lost, hard won;
we've heard Earth Mother crying

The politics of blame resuming,
pointing out certain voices that complain,
but chose to say...what, nothing?

Her weary vigil forever keeping,
world putting its interests second to none,
we've heard Earth Mother crying,
but chose to say...what, nothing?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2018

[Note: This poem has been significantly revised (2015) from a version that first appeared under the title Who’s Sorry Now in an anthology - The Bread of Life, Triumph House (Forward Press) 2004 - and subsequently in  The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004; revised edition in e-format in preparation.]

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Tuesday 11 March 2014

Earmarked for Development


Several readers have asked when I intend to record more of my poems for You Tube. Well, soon I hope. However, Graham, my close friend and cameraman works full-time so is not often available and I have been unable to get anyone else interested.

For those of you who may be interested but haven’t yet seen and heard my capers on You Tube,
try: http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber  or keyword ‘Roger Taber You Tube

We only do it for fun (and that includes heading straight for the nearest pub afterwards) but hopefully people will enjoy our efforts. I will be posting more on You Tube throughout the year, weather and cameraman availability permitting.

Meanwhile...

The world's growing population requires that we provide for its housing and other needs. We should not forget, though, that nature provides not only for its own protection but ours too. Our taking from nature without giving back is already making itself menacingly felt in various ways, and will likely haunt future generations with even greater menace. Deforestation especially, leaves us all exposed to climate change,

EARMARKED FOR DEVELOPMENT 

Archived, children at play
where once were trees and grass;
echoes of sunny laughter
but splinters of broken glass

Carefree voices, last heard
drifting away like autumn leaves;
carbuncles springing up
where Earth Mother grieves

Manna for the developers,
demand ever outstripping supply;
grass all concreted over,
(a time to live, a time to die?)

Nobody left likely to recall
how things were once-upon-a-tree
come nature, fairy tale...
Carbuncles, the new poetry

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2016

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004; rev. ed. in e-format in preparation.]

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Tuesday 4 February 2014

Global Warnings


Most if not all of us fancy we see hear voices in the wind from time to time,. Maybe we should  pause and make time to listen...  

Fanciful, you say?  Yes, of course, but sometimes what we digest can do us a whole lot of good…so long as we can keep it down  rather than throw it up because we feel guilty for fancying it in the first place. It is high time we treated the natural world with the respect it deserves, not as a communal rubbish bin; nor killing vanishing species, for whatever reason, without putting safeguards in place to ensure their survival. Humankind has a collective responsibility towards all nature or Earth Mother will take the ultimate revenge, and it may well be the likes of you and me will not be found among any survivors 

GLOBAL WARNINGS

Listen to the rain
telling tales on people
running for cover

Listen to the trees
telling tales on people.
cutting to the quick

Listen to the birds
telling tales on people
shooting them down

Listen to the fishes
telling tales on people
poisoning the seas

Listen to the worms
telling tales on people
doctoring the soil

Listen to the wind
telling tales of people
on life support

Listen to the people
marching for the planet
while we still can


Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

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Tuesday 7 May 2013

Paying a (Heavy) Price for Climate Change, 3000 AD

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

[Update June 2nd 2017]: Yesterday, president Trump withdrew the USA from the Paris agreement on climate change. Such a step has been met with dismay by most countries around the world. Wie the president professes to be putting America and Americans first, it remains to be seen if that will prove the case or whether excessive carbon emissions may yet be the death of us all.] RT

As regular readers will know, I am revising some  poems that appear in my collection. An earlier version of today's poem first appeared in an anthology, Free-Falling, Poetry Now [Forward Press] 2006 and subsequently in my collection the following year. While there is a strong argument for leaving well alone, as I look at poems from a distance of several years or more, I sometimes feel the need to 'get it right'. Some readers, of course, will always prefer the original.

Now, we hear and read about climate change all the time.Yet how seriously do we take it? How committed are we to future generations?  Nor is climate all that's changing. Some would argue that humankind itself is being gradually eroded by complacency if not by by its own inhumanity.

Fatalism is humankind's worst enemy; we cannot blame our shortcomings on fate, only ourselves.

As for the planet, I suspect nature has ideas of its own ...

Whatever, there is no room for complacency; the well-being of future generations is at stake. Governments of the world and certain politicians with an invested interest in fossil fuels need declare those interests, get their priorities right and log into some positive thinking ... NOW.
  
PAYING A (HEAVY) PRICE FOR CLIMATE CHANGE, 3000 AD

Preserved in ice, like some
prehistoric monster
poised to tread weeping clay,
dead water

Traces of green, shades of envy
to the probing eye
investigating its reappearance
and repercussions

Provoking alarm in Big Brother’s
desolate backyard
stretching endlessly, like
a yawning clay pit

Hysteria among humanoid
and robotic camps alike,
tugging at the archaeologist’s arm
to leave well alone

Preserved in ice, like some
prehistoric monster,
missed potential for all humanity;
Statue of Liberty

Copyright R. N. Taber 2006; 2013

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears 1st eds. of  Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; 2nd (revised) e-edition in preparation.]

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