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 28 February 2013

Memo From Earth Mother

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My thanks go to all of you who have been in touch to ask how I am getting on with my prostate cancer as first diagnosed in February 2011. Well, I saw my consultant yesterday and the news is very encouraging. The hormone therapy continues to do its job and my cancer remains at bay.

Oh, but  I will have a cataract removed from my right eye tomorrow so may not be adding to my blogs for a short while as I plan to keep computer use to a minimum in the early days while the eye settles down. I have to confess to being a shade nervous, but my best friend is taking a day’s leave from work to come to the hospital with me for which I am very grateful as I will need some moral support.  As I live alone, I’m a little nervous about coping during the immediate days following the cataract procedure, but I dare say I will cope. (Do I have a choice?)

Meanwhile…

Regular readers will be well aware of my passion for nature. Beautiful and inspiring in all its moods, dare I say that nature also reminds us of (mirrors even) our own strengths and shortcomings …?

MEMO FROM EARTH MOTHER

Grieving cliffs

Telling tragic tales
of grief and pain,
souls wracked on a wheel
that turns, turns,
and turns again until a time
all human misery
is shaped into pretty poetry.
all the better
for posterity and the ears
of youth than … truth

Stoic cliffs

Battered by wind, rain,
and sea,
keeping faith with a wheel
that turns, turns,
and turns again until a time
all humanity
is pressed like souvenir leaves
into well-worn pages
of science and spirituality
competing for … truth

Splendid cliffs

Bold, fantastic canvases
for sun and stars
to work the art of a wheel
that turns, turns,
and turns again until a time
all humanity
assumes the savagery and  guile
of an animal world,
its conscience and survival
said to rest on … truth

Coming at me…

Shadows across the mind
(people - friendly giants)
treading some Great Wheel
that turns, turns,
and turns again, until a time
fairy tale and myth
ally themselves with  history
in a Hall of Mirrors
reflecting its uses and abuses
of power and … truth?

Almighty cliffs, stark reminders
of life, death, and home truths


Copyright R. N. Taber 2013 




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Wednesday 27 February 2013

Peace

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Peace Rose

Of all the dreams anyone ever had, second only to love, the most beautiful if one of the saddest has to be…

PEACE

It’s a hybrid rose called Peace
that carries spring into summer,
letting its petals fall in autumn
to shield the heart from its winter

Coloured yellow, the peace rose
is for remembrance of times past;
if love, like roses, fade and die,
be sure its petals are crafted to last

At any time of year, whenever
and wherever we ache for a need
to inhale love’s heady perfume,
Peace roses, human senses, invade

Too often loved ones go to war,
never to return or, even if they do,
we too, like them, still suffer
as only humanity in winter can do

If the more ghastly realities of war
even ghosts fear, only fools suppose
its deeper roots lie but dormant
as nature sleeps and nothing grows

At such times, we must be strong,
take well-worn paths the heart knows,
for where there’s love there’s hope
and kinder summers of the Peace rose


From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010

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Tuesday 26 February 2013

Nightmare on the High Street

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[Update: 20/2/17]: High Street shop owners now fear being left in financial ruin as the Government considers a huge increase in business rates in town and cities across Britain. Don't these (mostly financially secure) politicians realise that small businesses are the backbone of any nation.] RT

Today’s poem was written in 2009, less than a year after the so-called ‘credit crunch’ first made its appearance in the UK and began to bite; it first appeared in an American poetry magazine under the title Nightmare On Main Street (2010) and then in a UK anthology, Inspired Minds, Forward Press as well as my own collection during the same year.

Across the world, many families and small businesses continue to suffer great hardship as we all seem stuck with a prolonged period of adversity.

Yes, there are glimmers of light at the end of the proverbial tunnel. Yet, it all seems so far away….

NIGHTMARE ON THE HIGH STREET

Jobs tossed away like beer cans
in a trash bin;
houses repossessed, cash hawks
at the ready

Homes crumbling like sand bags
in a hurricane;
marriages made in heaven filing
for bankruptcy

Bankers playing the blame game
to save face;
politicians relying on fiscal fears
for a free hand

In politics, business much as usual
(promises, promises…);
credit crunch or no, can’t go frugal
on the arms budget

World religions cleaning up on new
converts;
safety in numbers, unless you’re in
a war zone

Told to save on energy, and who’ll
save the children?

[From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

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Monday 25 February 2013

O, Cervantes

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Since the 1970s, pressure of work on the average person has at least doubled; fewer staff and the common misconception by (too many) managers that just about anyone can be replaced by a computer has been a major contributory factor. Only ten years earlier, my teachers at school had been telling us how wonderful the 1980s would be once machines were doing the lion’s share of the work we were paid full-time wages for part-time hours. [Whatever happened to the Golden Age of Leisure we were promised?]

Oh, but show me a windmill!

O, CERVANTES

One commuter rises
at seven, has to run for the train
at eight after ritual peck
on doorstep, and warning the kids
not to be late for school

Arrives for work wearily,
re-sorts any post meticulously,
checks with a secretary
about what’s worth knowing
on the grapevine

Another day done,
breaks for tea well-deserved,
our hero heads home,
packed like a helpless veal calf
on the continental run

Turns a brassy yale
at about half-six most days,
picking at supper
by seven ten, sends screaming kids
to do their homework

Starts to tell the wife
about his own work, and then...
(Damn, the mobile again!)
A smoke, glass of red, some soap TV,
(pity about the ulcer, scary.)

No outstanding bills, and never
a thing about windmills

Copyright R. N. Taber 1999; 2013

[Note: An earlier but only slightly different version of today’s poem was written in 1972; it appeared in Poetry Monthly (1999) that has since closed down and iAll in One Day, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2001 prior to my first major collection,  Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001;]

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Sunday 24 February 2013

In the Company of Dolphins

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I have been asked to repeat the link  to my poetry reading on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square during the summer of 2009  as part of sculptor Antony Gormley's One and Other 'live sculpture' project. At first, I am shown being lowered by crane to the plinth and it is a good five minutes before the reading starts: http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T  [NB: Sept 19, 2019 - The British Library confirmed today that he video is no longer available as it was incompatible with a new IT system, However, it still exists and BL hope to reinstate it and make it available to the public again at some future date.] RNT

Meanwhile...

This short poem is about love and friendship and being there for loved ones and friends when they need us. .It is also about the lasting power of love and friendship.


There is a saying that what goes around comes around. We never know when it will be our turn to need help. People for whose idea of love and friendship is a one-way street (and there are plenty out there who expect us to be there for them but rarely if ever reciprocate!) would do well to remember that.

IN THE COMPANY OF DOLPHINS

I think of us at twilight’s gentler tears
on flowers in a pretty garden, glistening
like ocean spray in spring sunshine…
In the mind’s eye, I see survivors
clinging to the wreckage of a ship that
safe harbours will never greet again,
and dolphins come like guardian angels
to redeem a fate demanded by storm clouds
riding old Poseidon’s back

Now calmer seas, survivors washed up
on kinder shores, dolphins gone, task done.
Lost souls saved at godly whim?
I know not, can but let heart and mind
wish the company of dolphins to bring us
safely home…and though that be left
to this sad world’s darker poetry,
may love’s light shine through twilight’s
gentler tears on us

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




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Saturday 16 February 2013

Inspiration

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One of the nicest compliments I receive is from readers who say that as a rule, they don’t like poetry but enjoy reading the blog.

So can we try a little experiment? Please send the blog URL to at least one person you know (especially if they don’t like poetry) and ask them to do the same. Then we’ll see what happens:

http://rogertab.blogspot.com/

Meanwhile…

This poem was written with a woman in mind whose courage in the face of serious health problems as well as her natural beauty is truly inspiring. She is also a dancer. Oh, she’s not rich or famous, just one of thousands of ‘ordinary’ people who are far from ordinary.

This poem is a villanelle.

INSPIRATION

Dancer in the gloom
with angel poise
lights up any room

Sunshine in a storm
spreading its rays,
dancer in the gloom

A music all her own
across stone floors
lights up any room

To Penelope’s loom,
her soul she bares,
dancer in the gloom

Like heaven’s broom,
our fears she clears,
lights up any room

Mere flesh and bone,
our joy and tears,
dancer in the gloom
lights up any room

[From: The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004]

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Friday 15 February 2013

Lament for a Grasshopper

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I have nothing against progress. Civilization would not have come far without it. At the same time, nature deserves better than to have us measure progress in terms other than material gain or cosmetic ‘improvement’. Nature protects us as well as giving us pleasure and breathing space to consider out options…

Nature is an inspiration, not just for artists and poets but for every man, woman and child in the street who seeks sanctuary sometimes, precious moments of peace and quiet away  from the frantic hustle and bustle of everyday life (and worse) in the modern world.

Yes, nature can be cruel, but perhaps humankind should look to its own archives before we enter into that argument.


Nature is a treasure beyond words, much of which we are in danger of losing forever; the more we lose, the less likely future generations will ever forgive us.

This poem is a villanelle, given a degree of poetic licence.

LAMENT FOR A GRASSHOPPER

Once I heard a grasshopper sing,
heard the dawn chorus…
where now, trucks thundering

I have heard bluebells ring
sweet sounds of silence;
once, I heard a grasshopper sing

I saw a stream, twisting, turning,
haunted by otters …
where now, trucks thundering

I have watched birds mating
in leafy trees;
once, I heard a grasshopper sing

There used to be a graceful flying
of kingfishers …
where now, trucks thundering

No denying nature's every warning
through the centuries ...
Once, I heard a grasshopper sing
where now, trucks thundering

[Note: An errors occurs in the version that appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005]

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