Somewhere, In-Between

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

During the Covid-19 coronavirus pandemic I have witnessed several headed arguments about the wearing of face masks. I discussed this with a GP at the start of the crisis and, basically, she said t was down to individual choice, that it would not sop anyone getting the virus but it may well help slow the spread of it. I have only been verbally abused once for not wearing a face mask, and I gave as good as I got.  I am very uncomfortable wearing a mask;  my breathing is becomes difficult and I get very stressed out. I had the virus in early January when I misinterpreted all the symptoms as a very bad cold and stayed indoors. I am also of a generation taught to put a hand or handkerchief across our mouths when we cough or sneeze,  As someone who uses public transport a lot in normal times, I have to say that many people do not bother even with this simple act of hygiene. When life gets back to some semblance of normality, I will wear a mask on public transport whether it becomes mandatory or not. Meanwhile, all the while it is voluntary, I will continue as I am.

When not directly involved, it is often possible to see both sides of an argument or divisive situation. We then, of course, leave ourselves open to the accusation that we’re sitting on the proverbial fence. Well, as my mother used to say, there is nothing wrong with that so long as we are prepared to jump down and take sides should the need arise.

Seeing both sides can help us to move a peace process along; it can also create further divisions and lose us friends among those convinced they are in the right so everyone else must not only be in the wrong but an ‘enemy’ for thinking so. (I dare say I'm not the only person to have been squeezed out of certain areas of circulation in that way.)

Yes, life can be tough for those 'in-betweeners' of this world. Mind you, as I have already pointed our regarding my mother's wise advice, no one can sit on any fence forever and we all need to be prepared to jump down on one side or the other when (as invariably it does) push comes to shove .. .

AS I see it, if more people were inclined to agree to differ instead of insisting on open conflict, the planet, its various societies and those of us within those societies would enjoy a far happier and more peaceful life.

SOMEWHERE, IN-BETWEEN

Day is day

as night is night;

in-between, a twilight

always playing tug-of-war

with us

Love is love

as hate is hate,

yet we can always find an affinity

with both

Dreamers dream

as nightmares haunt,

infiltrating a native stoicism

in us

Beggars beg

while rich men profit

insinuating a sense of fatalism

in us

Brave is brave

as scared is scared,

yet we can always find an affinity

with both

Day is day

as night is night;

in-between, a twilight

always playing tug-of-war

with us

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017; 2020

Raining Stones

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

I have always tried to keep abreast of significant world events and record at least some of them in my poetry. As I compile e-editions of my collections - containing revised poems as they already appear on the blogs - I am adding any poems here that are not currently accessible and may be of interest. 

On 19 March 2011, a multi-state NATO-led coalition began a military intervention in Libya, ostensibly to implement United Nations Security Council Resolution 1973, in response to events during the Libyan Civil War. 

Muammar Gaddafi, the deposed leader of Libya, was captured and killed on 20 October 2011 during the Battle of Sirte. Gaddafi was found hiding in a culvert west of Sirte and captured by National Transitional Council forces. He was killed shortly afterwards. 

The poem below was written as civil war raged in Libya, rebels losing ground to pro-Gadaffi forces...while the rest of the world debated whether or not to intervene; it appeared on the blog at the time, but was later removed due to lack of interest; it appears in my collection, the following year. 

At the time, and being gay myself, I also posted the poem on my gay-interest poetry blog since LGBT Human Rights have long been repressed in Libya. Indeed, since the fall of Gaddafi's regime in 2011, the status regarding homosexuality in Libya remains unchanged. It is high time world societies and communities got real and came to terms with the fact that a common humanity embraces all human nature of which a person's sexuality is fundamental? LGBT folks mean no harm to anyone, deserve better than many stereotypes circulating for years suggest, and simply ask to get on with our lives in peace, just like anyone else.

RAINING STONES

The cry goes up for deliverance,

for humanity’s sake,

from a tyrant’s stony arrogance

Pride plays Lord of the Dance,

(wheels of diplomacy creak);

the cry goes up for deliverance

Across Libya, thousands chance

their very lives to break

from a tyrant’s stony arrogance

United Nations looks on askance

(arguing what action to take);

the cry goes up for deliverance

Dare justice make an appearance,

freedom’s hold re-take

from a tyrant’s stony arrogance?

Oil politics drives Europe’s stance,

(U.S. up for a stake);

the cry goes up for deliverance

from a tyrant’s stony arrogance

[London: March 10^th 2011]

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

[Note: This poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Behind Every Coffin, Another Question

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

Here's another poem from one of my collections as I begin to compile editions that will include revised poems (already on the blogs) for posting as e-books; revised versions of my poems are already on the blogs, but not all my poems so, as requested by some readers, I am adding them now.

The the courage of armed forces around the world cannot be disputed nor their loyalty to the country they serve, but what of those responsible for deploying them wherever its politics dictates or rather, the politics of whatever party dominates its corridors of power...? Do men and women in the world's armed forces die for their country or to satisfy some hidden, even personal agenda creating a nasty draught in those same corridors.?

Political leaders often have a hidden agenda, that much emerges from their choice of words when called upon to explain or justify their actions, although proving it is invariably another matter...

Oh,  and what of all the innocent men, women and children caught up in conflicts over which they have precious little (if any) say or control? The media may well speculate and those directly affected by the consequences of conflicts around the world will debate in huddles on street corners or - more likely - behind closed doors, and so it goes on,...behind every coffin and injury, questions rarely answered to anyone's complete satisfaction.

BEHIND EVERY COFFIN, ANOTHER QUESTION

We salute the fine men and women

redeployed to fight in the safer interests

of their country, those not returning 

kept safer still in the vaults of memory

We salute the fine men and women

redeployed to fight in the safer interests

of their country, acts of friendly fire

but tragic accidents waiting to happen

We salute the fine men and women

redeployed to fight in the safer interests

of their country, trust any returning

shall feel no insult added to injuries

Who leads in the corridors of power,

redeploying troops in the safer interests

of their country, and by what criteria

does its politics prefer to define ‘safer'?

Who leads in the corridors of power,

redeploying troops in the safer interests

of their country to fight shadows

not into killing by any natural rules?

Who leads in the corridors of power,

redeploying troops in the safer interests

of their country, pledging solidarity

in its newspapers, on radio, and TV? 

What say we to the men and women

redeployed to hell in the safer interests

of their country since no politician

can tell anyone what is really going on?

Behind every question, another coffin

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

 [Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

[Note: Revised (2013) from the original as it appears in print  eds., 2012]

Walls, among 'live' Metaphors

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

We often hear talk of moral courage, and it is to be applauded, but standing up for what we believe in is not always the same as standing up for the rights of everyone in the same corner we are fighting. The recent shutdown of the U.S. Government over funding for a wall across the border with Mexico, the continuing impasse at Stormont in Northern Ireland and the Brexit fiasco in the British Parliament are but a few examples of how our so-called ‘betters’ should not lead by example.

Meanwhile ...

Parents in West Yorkshire, UK, came up against another such wall only recently.  Kirklees Council debated the supply of non-stun halal meat to 43 schools. in West Yorkshire; this, after receiving a petition of almost 8,000 parents expressing concern over animal welfare. Various councillors - including  Green Party members who voted with Labour colleagues - sided with the pro-cruelty lobby on the grounds that it supports diversity. Perhaps they can explain what diversity has to do with either animal welfare ... or freedom of choice, such as so far denied the schoolchildren concerned?

In most if not all cases of intransigence across the  whole spectrum of issues plaguing various societies worldwide, where there's a will there is invariably a way; it is called compromise. Sadly, where compromise means having to agree to differ and act for the better of all rather than some (or self) this puts 'will' in a position too many of our so-called 'betters' are unwilling to accept.

This poem is a villanelle.

WALLS, AMONG 'LIVE' METAPHORS

At a wall dripping blood and tears
find world democracies' sins well-met,
live metaphor for the world’s fears

Where true democracy disappears,
political ambition refuting its social debt
at a wall dripping blood and tears

Wherever love-and-peace, it veers
away, find agents conspiring to thwart;
live metaphor for the world fears

Divisions perpetuated for years
driven further apart since last ill-met
at a wall dripping blood and tears

Where time’s kinder mist clears,
discern guards with orders to shoot on sight;
live metaphor for the world’s fears

It's Freedom’s fair head that rears,
to debate any socio-cultural-religious tenet
at a wall dripping blood and tears,
live metaphor for the world’s fears

Copyright R N Taber 2019

Victims

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

Domestic abuse can happen anywhere in the world at any time. More often than not family members and/or friends and/or neighbours and/or teachers and/or work colleagues may have suspicions. It is not a subject on which anyone should remain silent for fear of being wrong. Better to be proven wrong than let a wrong continue and say nothing, surely…? 

Domestic abuse is not uncommon in any society; men, women, children, it can happen to anyone. Yet, the same people that will protest about environmental and Human Rights abuses will often remain silent about domestic abuse.  Where is the logic in that and what excuses can there be? Yes, well, plenty of excuses; even love - to its everlasting shame - is one of the masks perpetrators of domestic abuse often wear.

VICTIMS

Brightness falling from the sky

like summer rain, makes flowers grow,

the world shine like rainbow trout

on a school kid's line at a local stream

who should be in the football team,

but his dad's beat him black and blue

where ma's laid out on the kitchen floor,

can't take any more

Brightness falling from the sky

like acid rain, making the trees cry

as leaves die like fishes in the sea,

collector specimens neatly laid out

under glass for generations to see
how dead things appear to suggest

a history of human deprivation for want
of a better education

Shadows, like corpses on the grass;

skylark, a near forgotten sound at a spot

where revelations in the clay suggest

a once-busy stream in a world earmarked

for the winning team, the rest of us

neatly laid out under corporate glass,

(preserved for a new century, a new class)

victims of abuse

Copyright R. N. Taber 2000; 2016

[Note: This poem has been slightly revised from an earlier version that appears in 1st eds. of Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

Innocent, Until Proven Human (As Defined by Rites of Conscience)

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

I once saw a foal and a child born at different times of the same day. One had no conscience and would remain a picture of innocence until its slaughter for human convenience; the other would soon become wise to the ways of the world and learn to manipulate them … one way or another.

INNOCENT, UNTIL PROVEN HUMAN (AS DEFINED BY RITES OF CONSCIENCE)

Every birth, a celebration,
history redeeming
the very nature of creation

At break of day, an ovation
for each living thing;
every birth, a celebration

From its time of hibernation,
a glorious spring;
the very nature of creation

At the heart of every season,
find love enduring;
every birth, a celebration

If history pauses for no one,
find in its evolving,
the very nature of creation

Seeds of a world’s salvation
here for the nurturing;
at every birth, celebration,
the very nature of creation

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009; 2015

New Year, New Hope, Old Story

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

Today’s poem first appeared in Poetry Monthly International (sadly, since discontinued) in 2008 prior to its inclusion in my collection. It seems an appropriate enough poem for today since this evening will be New Year’s Eve.

Let’s just hope the celebrations will not be premature and that the 2014 brings more than just hope for world peace and a genuine sense of reconciliation between its divided socio-cultural-religious groups; a recognition, too, of basic human rights for everyone regardless of colour, creed, sex or sexuality, especially in those areas of the world and its societies that encourage if not legislate a policy of persecution.

NEW YEAR, NEW HOPE, OLD STORY

Bursting into the New Year

with a sing-song and a prayer

for peace across the world

Toasting our tomorrows

by way of drowning sorrows

for not letting go of pain

Putting on a smile, laughing

at sick jokes, better than crying

for the price of our mistakes

Brave New Year resolutions

little more than poor solutions

to centuries-old problems

Humankind’s record so poor,

less likely to make peace than war

if good at saying prayers…

Higher and farther they fly,

fine words across a New Year sky,

only to repeating history...

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Deconstructing Cyberia

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

[Update (August 15, 2016): It has been recently reported in the national press that Times Square in New York, Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris and Disneyland Park in France are among tourist attractions where mobile phones are most likely to be hacked. Golden Gate Park in San Francisco, Ocean Park in Hong Kong and Las Vegas's strip are the next three mostly likely places, according to research by mobile threat defence company Skycure. Among the best suggestion to prevent hacking is always to use passwords, never share them, change them from time to time, and never program them into a mobile phone. It is also available never to keep any particularly sensitive personal data on a mobile phone for long. I imagine much the same applies to laptops and tablets.]

Regular readers will know that I try to record important if necessarily selective events in my poems and subsequent collections.

Yesterday, I listened to news breaking all afternoon about Rupert Murdoch's British newspapers [not only the News of the World] allegedly resorting to the most horrific tactics in the name of investigative journalism. Blagging, hacking into the phones of a murdered teenager and armed forces personnel killed on active duty...we are being told that these are allegedly among the usual suspects targeting just about anyone in the public eye hell bent on obtaining any information that might pass for ‘news’ considered to be ‘in the public interest.’  This is not (surely?) what investigative journalism is all about.

I have never cared for people like Rupert Murdoch. Even so, like many a business magnate through the centuries, he’s probably not the only Chief who may well have paid his Indians (and other Chiefs) to do any dirty work for him.

Mind you, we should never forget that questionable practices are in a minority even in journalism. Moreover, while we may not agree with whatever News any better practices may come up with, neither should we be quick to write anything or anyone off as either offensive or immoral, especially after consenting to show an interest either by pressing a button or turning a page. Even so, we cannot help but wonder just who may be listening in to our calls and/or monitoring our emails these days.

Perhaps the title of the poem should be Reconstructing Cyberia (for whatever purpose whomsoever may have in mind...?!) Whatever, one suspects it is happening on a very underestimated scale around the world, and this is the tip of a huge iceberg.

At school, 50+ years ago, we had a great English teacher, 'Jock' Rankin, who once spent several lessons illustrating and leading class discussions on how and why we should not accept any one version of what we read in newspapers or hear on the radio or see on television as necessarily objective, but to take account of various versions and form our own opinions. I not only count this amongst the most valuable advice I’ve ever been given, but also the most worthwhile lesson (if not the only one) that I took from my schooldays and have put into practice ever since.

This poem is a villanelle and will appear in my next major collection, Tracking the Torchbearer, next spring.

DECONSTRUCTING CYBERIA

Who (now) has the faintest idea
what’s right, wrong, true, false, hearsay,
regarding goings-on in the media?

Is no one safe from the blagger,
and whose phone was hacked into today?
Who (now) has the faintest idea?

Seedy types are exploiting Cyberia,
its millions of everyday tourists led astray
regarding goings-on in the media

Can intrusion into any private arena
be justified by pushing it Joe Public's way?
Who (now) has the faintest idea?

If one malpractice leads to another,
what's the right take on what is or isn't okay
regarding goings-on in the media?

Though no person or enterprise bigger
than a Free Press left to have an honest say,
who (now) has the faintest idea
regarding goings-on in the media?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011