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 7 May 2020

L-I-F-E, Misunderstandings and Infinite Horizons

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

Once asked to name my favourite song of all time, I had to confess it has to be ‘Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood, first recorded by the late, great Nina Simone and then by The Animals whose lead singer Eric Burden’s turn it was to lift it to  inspirational heights.

Why my favourite song?  I am a great fan of both Nina Simone and The Animals, but the song hits me where it hurts most. The curious thing about hurt is that it can be both awfully painful and inspirational at the same time.  (I suspect I am not the only one who has lost friends for their having misunderstood our spoken or written words.)

Rightly or wrongly, I have felt misunderstood for the greater part of my life. The fact that I have a hearing problem, left undiagnosed as a form of ‘perceptive deafness’ for years hasn’t helped, but that is no excuse. Indeed, there are no excuses. On the other hand, there is room for reparation and reconciliation if the offended party will only say why they feel offended, thus giving the other person an opportunity to at least try and clear up any misunderstandings. Too often, though, this simply doesn’t happen.  One could argue that it is down to anyone who can see they have caused offence to make the first move while, on the other hand, isn’t the offended person also morally obliged to say why they have taken offence instead of simply resorting to postures that are no less offensive if not more so for being deliberate?

Many if not most friends and family members fall out from time to time, but any friends or family members worth their salt will engage us in an exchange of views, however heated, which  - more often than not – will clear the air and effect reconciliation. Sadly, many people see taking offence as a means to ending a relationship which, for reasons best known (or unknown) to themselves they would prefer to discontinue; an act of shifting any and all all blame elsewhere that has been a socially acceptable get-out cause for centuries. Those of us to whom reconciliation is all-important will know each other well to make sure it happens, albeit probably after arguing who threw the first stone …

“Drop the people who do not value you, respect you. Life has infinite horizons. Accept yourself, love yourself, and move forward.” ― Amit Ray, Peace, Bliss, Beauty and Truth: Living with Positivity


L-I-F-E, MISUNDERSTANDINGS AND INFINITE HORIZONS

I rarely mean to say
how it’s taken what I mean,
and held against me
rarely asked to explain,
try repairing damage done
(end of conversation)

Friends all but strangers,
family members taking sides,
cue for body language;
Looks, casting aspersions
on the best of my intentions,
no one asking questions

Hurt feelings on a chatline
exchanging gossip and rumour,
(No one any the wiser);
I, left to mull (close to tears)
 a real mess-up of a diary filled
with smudges and smears

Yet, some entries in my diary
stand out, no smears or smudges
in sight, only what’s writ;
not always a misunderstood
child, teenager or senior citizen,
for embracing infinite horizons


Copyright R. N. Taber, 2020

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Monday 27 April 2020

Heavens Above

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

As winter begins to give way to spring, even the most uninspiring landscape assumes a sense of potential more pleasing to the eye. Much the same can be said for those aspects of life coloured by a sense of negativity for whatever reason.

I began to suspect even as a child that humankind has much to learn from nature about its potential for good as well as bad and - by way of lateral thinking, although I did realise it at the time - the art of being positive, no matter what life throws at us.

‘Look deep into nature, and then you will understand everything better.’ - Albert Einstein

“There is one spectacle grander than the sea, that is the sky; there is one spectacle grander than the sky, that is the interior of the soul.” - Victor Hugo [Les Miserables]

HEAVENS ABOVE 

Glad blue skies, vivid backcloth
to sad, naked branches
barely hinting at far kinder times
yet to come once winter
has worked its worst on humanity
for wanting to prove itself
better, stronger than Earth Mother
while working its worst
on all things bright and beautiful,
freely given

Sad clouds leading us a merry dance
for wondering if any tears
that may (or may not) fall are meant
to harm (even kill) or nurture,
inspire, re-invent an ethos of peace,
love, kindness and respect
for nature, human nature, all-inclusive,
no cherry picking for egos
to feed on the brighter, more beautiful,
least demanding

Grey skies, making no sure promises
(or threats) to naked humanity
anxious to avoid the worst of nature
yet to come once winters
of the heart have worked their worst
on human mind-body-spirit
obsessed with survival for its own sake
rather than enjoying each day
in all things brighter and more beautiful
for freely given

Pink-yellow skies, reflecting uncertainty
on earth as it is in heavens
that would guard us from all evil save any
we knowingly or unknowingly
proceed to propagate for some greater good
as dictated by dogma
mindless of consequences to any true feeling
for freedom of movement,
negotiating all things bright and beautiful
on its own terms

Wide, open skies, ever inviting all nature
and human nature to a life
freely given albeit for the asking or taking
as they see fit who seek
to ask or take but on their own terms,
only to realise soon enough
there is no bargaining with Earth Mother
for nature is to a mind of its own
as human nature is to ‘karma’ by way
of making excuses

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020












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Friday 3 April 2020

A Global Consciousness

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

As the COVID-19 coronavirus continues to make its presence felt around the world, many if not most of us are having to deal with mounting pressure, not least in the form of mental health issues as financial constraints pile up along with an incredible number of  C-19 victims; many of the latter will survive, but many others, sadly, will not. Testing times, indeed.

Every death is a tragedy at any time, but worse now as only a very limited number of family members and friends (if any)  are allowed to attend funerals, and none at most cremations. Grief, though, cannot be put on hold, and the word is that we are all in this for the long haul. 

As time passes and social pressures mount, tempers may well fray and it has been suggested that a degree of social unrest is inevitable. To this, I can only emphasise that it is down to each and every one of us to do our very best to keep a lid on things, lead by good example and prevent this awful global crisis from undermining that human spirit in all of us which is capable of rising above and thereby getting the better of even the most heartbreaking situations.  Never easy, in the best of times, and about as tough as it gets in the worst. 

Let's be kind, yes, to ourselves as well as each other?

Several readers have been kind enough to ask how I, personally, am coping. Well, I'm just taking each day as it comes, trying not to lose too many marbles and constantly awarding myself proverbial kicks for memory lapses that result in my misplacing, forgetting and losing things! So far, so good, though, as I have no virus symptoms and suspect (hope) I had the mild version in early January.

Thinking of and rooting for you all here,

Digital hugs all round,

Roger

A GLOBAL CONSCIOUSNESS 

World falling apart,
or so it feels as we look around
at all but deserted streets;
no folks chatting on corners
or children playing;
shuttered shops, bars, restaurants;
Coronavirus spreading,
World running a gamut of hope and fear
as if at war

Front-line foot soldiers  
doing battle with an invisible enemy,
improperly kitted out,
going way beyond the call of duty;
doctors and nurses
used to looking mortality in the eye
putting their own lives
on the line for want of effective protection
against infection

Nature and humanity
caught unawares, having to improvise
in kitchens and farms,
companies, big and small, taking a fall
yet none so despairing
as on the Home Front, family and friends
grieving, tearful,
while drawing (still) on nature’s inspirational
arts of survival

Societies shutting down, any sense of crashing
tempered only by a gift for positive thinking

Copyright R. N. Taber April 2nd 2020

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Tuesday 24 March 2020

Mind-Body-Spirit, Opening Up to Spring

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

Spring is in the air, but sadly, the COVID-19 coronavirus is taking its toll just abut everywhere across the world. Not since World War 2 have we all needed to trust love - in all its shape and forms - to distract us and help us rediscover peace of mind ...

"Daffodils that come before the swallow dares, and takes the winds of March with beauty." - William Shakespeare (The Winter's Tale)
MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, OPENING UP TO SPRING
Come wintry seasons,
no peace for the unquiet mind
as it mulls its choices;
none so obvious as yelling “Me!”
and let the rest go free,
leaving mind-body-spirit to focus
on such kinder aspects
of human nature as any disinclined
to be a slave to its worst flaws

Winter, preferring gloom
to sunlight more often than not,
sending mixed feelings
all but mad with mixed messages,
now reassuring us,
now threatening us with the worst
it can throw our way,
now suggesting we do this, now that,
at each new day’s dragging out

Come, a hint of spring,
daffodils making their presence felt
in buds no quite ready
to open their hearts to the world,
let us see inside,
be inspired by Earth Mother’s need
to take a lead,
defy inhibitions hell bent on throwing
even the best of us off the scent

To mind-body-spirit, all the more peace 
and love for spring’s embrace

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020



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Saturday 14 March 2020

Insight, the Twinkle in Time's Eye


Rarely are our thoughts processed more intensely and tested than as we ponder questions about life and death, especially the latter if only because it represents The Great Unknown and we human beings prefer to know (for sure) what we are up against. Throughout our lives, we have at least the semblance of some control, but over the time and nature of our death we have little or none. More disturbing still, what happens once we are cut free of a life that so loves to play us like puppets on a string and go into free fall? Something or nothing…?

Those who subscribe to a religion think they have the answer while those of us who don’t take hope from nature’s cycle of renewal.

Whatever, thinking about such things, homing on any conclusions (however arbitrary) we may reach and acting on them, is probably as good a preparation for life and death as we can aspire. 

There is much to be said for the old adage, look before you leap, but it has to be said that the looking eye does not always see; it is the inner eye, as prompted by searching thought, that is more likely to home in (or not) on not only what is it looking at but also looking for.

Looking, finding, reworking, making reparation, whatever ...  life, art and science owe much to its wannabes and wanna-knows. As for what anyone really thinks about all they see and hear, few will ever get to know unless they have access to his or her personal space.

INSIGHT, THE TWINKLE IN TIME'S EYE

Squatting on a patch of waste land,
imaging the growing emptiness
of wishful thinking feeding streams
of consciousness running through
alleys, backyards and housing estates,
watching the living and the dead
vying for time's favours in diaries
and poems they were always meaning
to write

Addressing the insubstantial nature
of shadows, inner sight focusing
on the human spirit playing host to body
no more or less than the flow of blood
feeding its veins as myth's muddy waters
close in, re-assessing attitudes scrawled
in everyday graffiti or glued to pasteboard
points of view; scientific, religious…
(does it really matter?) ever attempting
to win us over by fair means or foul
since that first day at school, now exposed
for the saddest, cruellest trick of all

Articulating on life as mind-body-spirit 
preparing mind and body to chance
a coming of age, despite envious gods
and their petty tyrannies if upstaged
by human selfishness, stuff of immaturity
feeding an ego-led imagination
(Oh, and whatever happened to that?)
and leading us astray who so love to think
we know it all

Focusing on and interpreting the purpose
of one starry eye watching out for us
who are frantically rummaging mortality,
for a kinder fate (surely?) than to be left
drifting in full view of old gods gathered
to gloat, our humanity come less than right
for running the gamut of human history
posed by selective readings between lines
of cautionary tales told by one, Jonah,
from the belly of a whale last seen spouting
gobbledegook to hunters well up for the chase
no more or less than for its own sake

Mind-body-spirit, cultivating the wry twinkle
of all-seeing eye

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2016

[Note: This poem has been revised from an earlier version that appears under the title ‘Death Star’ in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber 2010.]


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Wednesday 11 March 2020

Face-Saver


Few of us can say in all honesty that we have no regrets, and have made no mistakes. Even so, there is no point in crying over spilt milk. (As good a philosophy as any, I say.) Besides, sometimes we need to make mistakes in order to discover our true path in life; we can but try and learn from them and move on. Life is a learning curve, after all.

When I look back at my worse mistakes I can also see how some good has come from having made them. Whatever, if you want to do something badly enough, I wholeheartedly agree with giving it a go; if it turns out to be a mistake, better regret having tried and failed than wonder how things might have turned out. [Story of my life…] Besides, all poetry needs must expose at least glimpses of life's negatives if only to encourage its positives to shine through. 

I am often asked by heterosexual readers if I regret including gay-interest poems in my collections and if it has damaged my reputation as a poet in the wider arena. The answer is ‘no’ to the first question. As for the second…yes, it has probably adversely affected my reputation as a poet in the wider arena (and why the arts media practically ignore me) but…no, I have no regrets.

While I can't expect to please everyone with every poem I write (nor do I exclude myself) but have received some lovely emails from readers all over the world who enjoy reading them. What poet can ask for more?  Although I do not allow comments - too many idiots spoiling posts for genuine readers, and I leave social media well alone for the same reason - do feel free to email me any time on any subject. I will always reply as soon as I can. If you don’t like my poetry, but still want to exchange points of view, no problem.

Contact rogertab@aol.com; with ‘Blogs’ or ‘Poems’ in the subject field.

FACE-SAVER

I move without favour or prejudice
among men, women, children;
to whomsoever calls me out, I will
always answer, no one denied
the music I'll bring, blues I'll sing;
rich, poor, famous, infamous, saints
and sinners…all welcome to tap
into a wisdom some like to call Fate,
lessons learned too late

I touch without favour or prejudice
the loose thread missing a button,
that odd sock, empty vase in rooms
yawning with boredom for what’s
on TV, and must have heard that CD
a thousand times (surely?) though
any sound has to be better than none,
answerable (finally) to a plaintive purr
beside a lap tray set for one

I bury without favour or prejudice
forgotten dreams, misspent ideals,
all wishful thinking on falling stars
meant to compensate humanity
for its brooding on old letters, photos,
poems, home videos…all as dead
as the cat whose purr the ear recalls
where the inner eye revisits every day
at a lonely table set for one

First among equals among the human race
is selective memory, a face-saving grace

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Regret' in Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books 2007,]


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Monday 9 March 2020

When the only Way is Up

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

Sometimes we seem to be going nowhere fast, and haven’t a clue what to about it. I felt that way for years. Plans I’d made about becoming a librarian after leaving school depended on my passing at least two A-level exams, but I only passed one. I drifted into my early 20’s with no clear sense of direction and finally decided to migrate to Australia. This didn’t work out, either, but gave me time to take a long, honest look at myself and work out a positive plan of action; this depended on my returning home as it became clear there was no future for me in Oz. As it happened, I couldn’t get a job and soon did just that. I signed up for a course of teacher training in Canterbury, but my first teaching practise made me realise that a hearing problem should not be underestimated. As luck would have it, I was able to transfer to the local university, finally graduating with a good degree in English and American Literature; this, in turn, made me eligible for a postgraduate course in librarianship.

Career-wise, I seemed to be on an even keel at last, but was still grappling with a sexuality I had been raised to believe was ‘sick’ although no longer a criminal offence for consenting adults since 1967. It would be another few years and a bad nervous breakdown later before I would not only be entirely at ease with being gay, but also see my sexuality as a sure positive rather than a defensive one, certainly no negative.

It would be four years after my breakdown before I was eventually able to get a job in my chosen profession, and have never looked back. The only fly in the ointment was a pressing desire to write, and there just weren’t enough hours in the day. In 1993, cutbacks in Local Government spending meant some compulsory redundancies while everyone else at the library where I worked was offered voluntary redundancy. I decided to be positive, accept, and work part-time. Again, I was fortunate enough to get enough work to support myself and try my hand at writing fiction and poetry until I retired in 2004. I didn’t become a best-selling novelist, but have a modest reputation worldwide as a poet and have no regrets. I see gay-interest poetry and fiction as alternative voices of the same genres and have enjoyed exploring and sharing both on my blogs. I only wish I had emerged from my deaf-blind chrysalis years earlier; no butterfly here, but a psyche with which I am no longer anywhere near as unhappy as I was some 50 years ago.

I once commented to an old friend how I felt lost and had no idea even what path next to take in a life that was...a mess. "Well, Roger," he said, "When you reach rock bottom, the only way is up so hadn't you better make start? The sooner, the better by the sound of it. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, right?

Right!

WHEN THE ONLY WAY IS UP

So near, so far, dreams
in the heart desperate to break out
and go live, make themselves known
to an unsuspecting world

So near, so far, thoughts
fit for a positive mind-set playing
fast and loose with a vulnerable psyche
all but unfit for purpose

So near, so far, aspirations
persistently put down by jeers pulsing
a self-esteem deaf-blind to the landscape
of human potential…

Deep breaths and first steps,
picking up the gauntlet thrown down
by die-hard naysayers and doom-mongers
with little or no imagination

Learning the art of persuasion,
pitting it against any nemesis of faith
in the power of positive thinking to prove
a worthy winner over all else

A rush of adrenaline for playing
an active role in life’s amphitheatre
rather than sit with live ghosts in the gallery,
left wishing and hoping in vain

Bit between the teeth, not a time
to be resting on laurels, can do better,
need to take on new roles, new challenges,
critics welcome to any field days

So near, so far, nightmares haunting
a psyche afraid of being measured out
for better or worse according to expectations
thrust upon it by false impressions

Here-and-Now, assigned a lead role
in a past-present-future psyche poised
to explore the rolling see-hear landscape
of human potential

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018





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Saturday 29 February 2020

All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go


Who has never been there, all dressed up and nowhere to go, making-believe we’ll have just as  good time staying in on our own, and who’s lonely anyway…?

Too right, it’s not a good place to be. (Most if not all of  us have been or will go there at some time or another in this life.)

So...?  Be positive. Find yourself a kinder place to be, and don't waste time thinking about it. Better, surely, to enter into the process of building self-confidence than pressing self-destruct?  If human relationships are a minefield, the trick is learning to avoid the mines not the relationships. (Did I say it would be easy?)

By the way ...

If there is anyone more boring than a whinger, it has to be a troll; to those well-meaning readers who suggest I promote my poetry on social media, I can only say I left it in the first place because of trolls and have no intention of returning. [I ignore trolls, of course, and some still email me from time to time, but they unimaginative to the point of being boring, and life is too precious to waste being bored.]

https://rogertab.blogspot.com  (General)

https://aspectsofagaymanslifeinverse.blogspot.com/ Gay-interest)

https://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.com/2016/05/news-updates-fiction.html (Fiction)

ALL DRESSED UP AND NOWHERE TO GO 

Tables in a room, Happy Hour,
forced laughter booming like canon
across no man’s land;
lots of food and drink so let’s not think
about tomorrow, mind
the remains of a Here and Now  
flying past in the wind

Singing along to the radio man
(sure to cheer us up if anyone can?)
while old gods tease us
about the rights and wrongs of strings
we pull on those of us 
left banging on doors, crying to be
let in for pity’s sake

Dreams, footprints left by chairs
across a floor, toys seen better days,
their owners never (quite)
grown out of old inhibitions or found
better ways to spend an evening
than with life fictions sure to cut us
to the quick

There's a whole world out there 
waiting to be discovered, people too,
who need someone to share lives
that haven't measured up to expectation,
thereby stifling earlier aspirations;
Yes, time to get real, and no, it's never
too late ...

Copyright R. N. Taber 1997; rev. 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem under the same title 'first appeared in poetry magazines (Community of Poets, 5, 1995 and Reach, 5, 1997) before I included it in  Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books 2001.] 


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Friday 21 February 2020

The Last Word

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

Regular readers may recall that, in my late 60's, I had a bad fall that saw me housebound for several months and having to deal with a nasty clot in my left leg. I made a reasonable recovery, however, and am thankful I can get out and about again, albeit with the aid of a walking stick. Last year (my 73rd) I developed venous problems, resulting in a very painful ulcer on the same leg. I endured, persevered, and eventually came through it all still managing to take my cue from Monty Python and  keep looking on the bright side of life.

Lately, so much has been going wrong that, given certain health issues as well,  I even began to wonder if it was time to let go, and hive the Grim Reaper carte blanche do with me what he will.

Yet again, an inner voice chastised me mercilessly for being negative and demanded I find a way to recover a more positive consciousness. Eventually, I succeeded; not out of the woods altogether yet...but getting there, resolved to give old age a good run for its money, and let love have the last word.

Love, of course, comes in all shapes and forms; human relationships, bonding with nature and the arts, an affinity with the animal world including, naturally, our pets ... 

Nothing and no one has a monopoly on love, whether or not we subscribe to any religion.

Peace Be, regardless of any socio-cultural-religious differences, and let's work at being kinder to and more understanding of each other as, each of us in our own way, needs must runs the gauntlet life throws down. 

As my old English teacher. 'Jock' Rankin warned many years ago, "Never assume anything of anyone until you know them well enough, and that can take a lifetime."

THE LAST WORD

Old age,
hovering like some glittering sword
just above my head
inviting the unkindest cut of all
(before my time)
grown worse in later years, defaulting
to tears

Escape,
promising an eternal peace and rest
from the complications
of everyday existence, made worse
by new technology,
progress, (inevitably) leaving some of us
behind

Streets,
living nightmare, zombies doubling
for human beings,
glued to mobile phones, laptops,
whatever mind games
best distracting from the Here-and Now’s 
demands

Often,
(like me) needing a seat on train or bus,
fishing for eyes
alert to someone else’s struggling
to stay on top of things, only catching sight
of headphones

Old age,
an everyday see-saw, few roundabouts
and swings in play;
ups and downs, sometimes sick
at heart, always having to push down harder
on positive thinking

Memory,
fading fast, the sweeter ones sure to last
If only in part
where the human heart persists
in saving best for last, halcyon days in no hurry
to pass 

Death,  
hovering like the most beautiful thing,
barely out of reach,
and just as well since temptation
no match for a mind-body-spirit set on rescue
mode

Life,
worth every convincing heartbeat for years,
no matter its defaulting
to tears of pleasure, pain, whatever
till I’m up for leaving this mad world, giving love
the last word

Copyright R.N. Taber 2020

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Monday 10 February 2020

Making Peace with Mind-Body-Spirit

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

Love does not always work out for us as we had hoped, but it can take a long time to fade if, indeed, it ever does.

Now, it well may be that love is a win or lose affair, but for any loser it is very real at the time; mind-body-spirit needs must make its peace with it - and all those concerned -  if we can hope to move on, whatever our socio-cultural-religious background.

MAKING PEACE WITH MIND-BODY-SPIRIT

I could  feel it licking at my heels
with every step I took;
it cast a feisty shadow every time
I chanced a look,
making me feel like a missing page
in my own history book

One day I waited, let it catch me up
then moved in,
seized it by the scruff of the neck,
and demanded it explain;
it wrestled me to the ground, left me
writhing in pain

I staggered after summer, still reeling
from its blow,
grabbed it by the hand, insisted I had
a right to know;
it laughed in my face, warned me not
to follow, or else...

Ah, but follow I did, down blind alleys
into a shady corner;
we glared at each other, sworn enemies
(forever...?)
but finally trapping jealousy, my shadow,
and love, my stalker

It was now or never. Grateful for a choice,
we made our peace,
and time since has been more than kind
to us. Though long ago,
that summer’s rogue flames still
a timely warning...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2019

[Note: A slightly different version of this poem appears under the title 'Making Peace with Love'  in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]



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Friday 7 February 2020

Mysterious Ways


I often refer to ghosts in my poems. Do I believe in ghosts? Oh, yes, I certainly do.  Here, though, the ghost is simply a metaphor in the manner of many poets, writers, and artists before me and I dare say many more to come…

A metaphor, for what, did you say? Ah, therein lies the secret of the kenning form of poetry; you usually have to read it to discover the narrator’s true identity.

MYSTERIOUS WAYS

I am the ghosts
of seasons taking their cue
from all around me,
busy recreating roles to play
that I dare step back into
once choice comes into its own
while (still) denying access 
to any 'live' past-present-future
offering to make peace

I am the ghosts
of seasons taking their cue
from a restless heart,
invading the enquiring mind,
seeking to be reconciled
with whatever moral order
loath to acknowledge
no (conscious) harm ever done 
in agreeing to differ

I am the ghosts
of every season's fretting
about fulfilling
its potential, whether physical,
psychological, emotional
or, yes, sexual, since you ask 
(and well you might)
given that we're both working out
a full life sentence

I am Conscience, human nature's diary,
the sum total of its eternal mystery


Copyright R. N. Taber 2011



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Sunday 26 January 2020

The Stalker

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

[Update March 16th 2020]: By now, the COVID-19 has become a pandemic; older people and those with underlying health problems already are most at risk from this particular form of coronavirus. So let's all do our best - wherever we are in the world, whatever our socio-cultural-religious background - to put any differences aside, be good friends and neighbours, watch out for each other over the next few months. Rarely has human nature been challenged to play a more positive role in enabling mind-body-spirit to pull together and prove itself integral to a common humanity. Well, fingers crossed.] RT

Some people are made to feel - knowingly or unknowingly - that they never quite 'fit in' ... with family, peers, schoolmates, workmates...whatever; when life deals us a particularly crushing blow -at any time, anywhere, and at any age - we look for someone to turn to, and there is no one.

Whatever the crushing blow, it can defeat a person altogether when it seems there is no one to whom they can turn; it is the worst feeling in the world. There is always someone, of course, and some people train as counsellors just to try to bridge such gaping holes in a lonely person's life; the loneliness all the harder to bear because they thought they were part of a social network that would always provide a safety net; to discover it was all an illusion, and believing no one really gives a damn, is had nut for the person at the centre of it all to crack.

The human spirit, though, is a tough cookie, and there is always an alternative to despair, but we need to feel sufficiently motivated to seek it out, and act on what we find, no matter how great the temptation to turn tail and tun for fear of finding ourselves in much the same situation again. There are good people out there, among family, peers, schoolmates, workmates...whatever; they are not mind readers; confronting home truths may be half the battle, but it is not until we learn to share them that we stand a fighting chance of winning through.

Whatever may have encouraged us to feel comfortably deluded about our life before it took us into crisis mode, we need to at least reassess if not put aside altogether and start over; nor is it ever too late for that, whoever and wherever we may be.  Our world, as we thought we knew it, may have fallen apart, failed to live up to its own propaganda, doctrine, or whatever else fake news or hidden agendas we may have stumbled blindly upon...but it can be replaced with something better so long as we learn to trust good people to help us make better choices,  and start believing in ourselves again, and understanding that we are not alone since most if not all of us spend the greater part of our lives on a learning curve.

There is no shame in asking for help. Moreover, there are people out there willing to let live, let learn, and let us in on the process. How to find them? Incredible as it may seem, sometimes all we need to do is follow our noses and trust out better instincts. How do I know? Because it worked for me years ago...and continues to do so. Yes, I get lonely sometimes, but having experienced the worst loneliness can do, I am enough of a 'people person' in my 70's to see it as a relatively minor blip in the way of things, not an end in itself.

THE STALKER


I may well creep up on you,
unaware of me till all but too late,
and then let battle
commence, or not as the case
may well be.
if he or she not of a mind
(for whatever reason)
to confront a common human need,
and go into restart mode

I peer over your shoulder
at all you do for seeing it as bravery
to evade the enemy
although there’s no avoiding me
(as you know full well)
but you are fast losing sight
of calendar days
in a world dead set on getting its kicks
by playing nasty tricks

Oh, my mistake, no easy prey,
(even a mind-body-spirit in free fall)
forgetful of a humanity
looking out for its own; family,
friends, neighbours,
passers-by in the street concerned
for the frightened air  
of one become sensitive to my stalking,
if no less fearful of escaping

Call me Loneliness, that customised hell
its human heart knows only too well


Copyright R. N. Taber, 2020


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Thursday 23 January 2020

Catching Up with Raison d'être


The new year has not begun well for me, not least for having to rise above the stress of mislaying my debit card last week, having to rally my thought processes to report it missing (online) and then grapple with various aspects of acquiring a replacement; all tasks I would have taken in my stride even in my 60’s, but for which my 70’s resisted even acknowledging the necessity. My delight at receiving and registering a new card, was somewhat dampened - to say the least - by discovering my old card this morning… in the lining of my wallet where it had slipped through an invisible hole. I was furious with myself, having searched high and low for the damn thing. A glass of red wine helped calm me; so much for promising myself a dry January…

On Friday, I will have a PSA test prior to seeing my prostate cancer consultant next week.  Regular readers will know that I have been treated with hormone therapy since 2011 when the cancer was   first diagnosed. If it isn’t the cancer taking its toll on me, it’s the hormone therapy although I dare say growing old plays its part. At the same time, I am having to get used to wearing compression stockings following my being successfully treated for a nasty venous ulcer last year.

Regular readers will also know that I am a great believer in trying to look on the bright side of life no matter what it throws at us, and I do, I DO; never easy, but always worth the effort (which in my case, invariably involves writing a poem) if only because the alternative is unthinkable.

CATCHING UP WITH RAISON D'ÊTRE 

We catch up,
with each other time and again,
go for long walks
in sunshine, snow and rain,
hand in hand
as close friends do, yet neither friend
am I to you nor enemy,
we pair comprising but one mind-body-spirit
anxious to break free

Born to take life,
in our stride little or nothing to hide
through formative years,
though vaguely aware of innocence
doing battle
with articulation, keeping our thoughts
from getting too close
to home truths, shadows increasingly taking on
an air of being human

Time passes,
dreams, daydreams infiltrating reality,
compromising us
at every turn, mind-body spirit
resisting its dark side,
yet still they persist, those shadowy figures
with human voices,
making excuses for writing off abuses of privilege
as but rites of passage

Come, mind-body-spirit
learning to see without always needing to rely
on the human eye,
hear the tick-tock of the human clock
as time passes,
inhale the perfumes of nature, dismiss bad smells
as par for the course
for better, for worse, day or night, trust Earth Mother
to see us right

So what is ‘seeing us right’
supposed to mean? No more or less than each
to his or her own...
Some will argue we get our just deserts
in any after-life,
while others depend on religion to secure their place
in a Heaven of sorts;
for most, no matter when or how we take leave of Earth,
there is only death

At journey's end, more questions, 
anxious to distinguish an enemy from a friend,
easier said than done
for anyone whose self-awareness
succours the human spirit, 
even while feeding 
on flaws as sure to spit us out 
behind closed doors as expose any shadowy life forms
for who’s who

Yet, no living thing dies
if only because Memory will always care for its own,
nurturing any seeds
we’ve knowingly or unknowingly sown
that may well, in turn,
have touched the lives of loved ones and strangers alike,
our spirit joining theirs
in rising above much the same fears, wiping a world’s tears
for love and peace


Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

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Sunday 31 December 2017

The Zen of Renewal OR Outlook, Positive


So many people tell me every year that they dread January 1st, a whole new year stretching ahead that is unlikely to live up to either Happy Christmas or New Year celebrations. January sales on the High Street are more likely to be suspect than generous (shifting unwanted stock) and any excitement over ‘bargains’ short-lived. 

So, what next? What, indeed…? Dare I suggest it is down to us…not circumstances-beyond-our-control or fate by any other name …but us. 

Oh, we are not entirely in control of whatever life dishes us. That is SO true. We ARE, though, in control (if we choose to take it) of how – in the longer term at least – we choose to respond. We all have choices and many if not most of these are not easily made, but choosing positives over negatives has to be a good thing … well, doesn’t it?

Now, if New Year creates a sense of renewal in us, that is just the start - albeit a good one - of a lifetime process; we  need to keep up the momentum during the months to come, do our best to stay positive whatever life (and weather) chooses to throw at us. (Did I say it would be easy?)

An integral part of the human condition is its spirit, regardless of whether or not we subscribe to any religion; we need to trust it to see us through any bad times and return us to a positive sense of who we really are ... better than the worst life can throw at us, for a start

Once we start feeding negative thoughts into mind-body-spirit, the chances are it will go onto free fall sooner rather than later. I've done that, been there and ... never again, if I can help it.

Here's wishing you all a Happy, Positive and Peaceful life,

Love 'n' Hugs,

Roger x

THE ZEN OF RENEWAL or OUTLOOK, POSITIVE

Another year begs
to be enjoyed for its own sake,
not as reparation
for others that have let us down,
failed to live up
to expectations feeding dreams
that fail to mature…
because that’s just how it is,
the way we are?

Another year
pleads a chance to prove itself,
not as reparation
for glossing over past misfortunes
turning mountains
into molehills so the human ego
can rest easy…
because that’s just how it is,
the way we are?

Another year
when looking back at negatives
will get us nowhere
unless it’s back where we started
before we began
to get wise to false promises
and fake news…
because that’s just how it is,
the way we are?

Another year,
urging mind-body-spirit to listen
to its weaker self
focusing on losses, regrets, mistakes,
and making excuses
for not looking on the bright side
of life…
because that’s just how it is,
the way we are?

Another year,
making time to let a dawn chorus
reassure us all
that nature and human nature but wait
to be embraced
in a spirit of hope-peace-love
(raison d’être)
because that’s just how it is,
the way we are

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018






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