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.

Saturday 10 August 2013

Insomnia OR Never Let a Sandman Wear You Down.

The world's differences in socio-cultural-religious and political affairs have always had much to answer for, and one thing in common - a penchant for inviting insomnia...

INSOMNIA or NEVER LET A SANDMAN WEAR YOU DOWN

Tossing and turning, unable to sleep,
a desperate yearning for peace
of mind - but they are unkind to me,
the pillows, the sheets, a mattress
that sags in the middle; eerie shadows
on the ceiling, spiders on the wall,
strange noises rising from the floor,
sounds of partying next door
(I was not invited by the way, slighted
as ever, could it be because I'm gay,
surely not? The twenty-first 21st century
is well under way for heaven's sake,
though you wouldn’t think so for tragic
goings-on in countries like Iraq

So what’s wrong with me that people
always seem to be taking the piss,
leaving me tossing and turning, unable
to sleep, desperate for some peace?
Maybe I should try harder to be nice
or could it be I’m trying too hard,
need to devote more time to listening
instead of being wise after events,
mis taking media pundits for mentors’?
Mind you, at least I have opinions
worth voicing (surely?) less than happy
to settle for recycling everyday gossip
thrown out by Mr, Mrs and Ms Average
so the neighbours can have a say

Ah, neighbours, bless 'em all, the short,
tall and obese, not just keeping up
with the Jones' (and how!) but some keen
to put their money wheresoever mouths
open and shut like constipated goldfish
inviting advertising moguls to get in
on the act, vying to take over the show,
various media pundits busy partying
in Corridors of Power, confusing issues,
(incidentally boosting sales of tissues)
inciting Mr Mrs and Ms to exhibitionism
(credit card fetishism?) as if anyone
really cares but for feeling a need to take
re-evaluate their own affairs, if only to see
if they can (surely?) go one better

It has to be said, most of us are easily led
by any old halter, cattle to slaughter;
Note, I didn’t say ‘sheep’ - the exclusive
property of those unable to sleep
for sweating over, oh, such pretty lambs
(thanks, Mother Nature, you're a star)
therefore not in the same blanket category
as Average and Jones who'll never
lose any sleep over Dolly clones, let alone
war in Iraq, North Korea's intentions,
Human Rights globally, poverty everywhere,
not to mention the likes of that double act,
Bush and Blair, with whom the history books
will hopefully more than get even

Alas, it will all keep, while the rest of us toss
and turn, trying to get some sleep

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2019

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title Insomnia  in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]

























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Saturday 17 July 2010

At the End of the Day..

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

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]

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