The World this Weekend

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

[Update: April 15 2017]: It is Easter, when we should all be thinking of love and peace towards each other instead of the threat of a nuclear confrontation between North Korea and the United States of America. I can't recall anything quite like this since the Cuban missile crisis in 1962. I am am reminded by the song, Where Have All The Flowers Gone, that I first heard sung by Peter, Paul and Mary in 1962 although I confess I prefer the Joan Baez version (1967). When, indeed, will the conveniently anonymous yet all-encompassing 'they' ever learn? I love the song, not least because it made me think, just as it did a few minutes ago when I listened to it on You Tube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iCAmQkmBrj8 

Now, some readers find it irritating that I link to historical as well as newer posts/poems while feedback suggests that others take a genuine interest. Possibly, if my blogs/poems survive my eventual passing from this world, posterity, too, may take an interest? [I like to think so, but...who knows?]

Now, the poem below was written in 2002 but could have been written at any time in any century; an earlier version also appeared in an anthology - Daily Reflections, Triumph House [Forward Press] 2003 - and Ygdrasil, an on-line poetry journal, April 2005.

Some readers have questioned my use of the word 'faith' in the last stanza. Well, as I have often said before on my blogs, faith embraces a whole spectrum of feeling and thought. Religion does not have a monopoly on faith even with a capital 'F'; I chose to put mine in nature even as a child. 

Yes, The kind of spiritual strength that religious faith lends is important to many people and we should respect that. No less important to those like myself, though, is the sense of spirituality we take from nature. More importantly still, we need to have faith in ourselves...or how else can we expect it of others?

Where progress is a tool which we shape past, present and future, we need to make sure we get it right. and compose a living poem to last, not an epitaph for the wind to wear down until no one can read what it says, or wants to…

It may be true that money talks, but it doesn't have the wit that words do. (Now, there is potential for a war of words second to none...)

This poem is a villanelle.

THE WORLD THIS WEEKEND

In pastures green or desert sand,

they haunt and pursue us,

history's lessons unlearned

Fear, much like a dead man’s hand,

appears sound, washed clean,

in pastures green or desert sand

Words, drawn swords to the land,

ripping out its spleen;

history's lessons unlearned

Love, a well-worn but infinite strand

of hope on the world scene

in pastures green or desert sand

Time, a chance to make a stand

against war and pain,

history's lessons unlearned?

Faith would keep us safe and sound,

washing raw wounds clean;

in pastures green or desert sand,

history's lessons unlearned

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2016

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly  Books, 2002.] 

Tapping into Social Conscience OR Shaking Up Society

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

Few people set out to deliberately hurt others. It’s just a sad fact of human nature that some  are so blinkered to any if not all home truths that it’s just the way they are; we can take it or leave it. More needs to be done, especially in schools, by way of educating the blinkered among us to the harsher realities of life, an how we can combat them.

With several people who have played a significant part in my life, it took 20+ years before I finally decided to call it a day. Since being diagnosed with prostate cancer in February 2011, I have written off more fair weather friendships. 

There was a time I’d have been philosophical to the extent of being stoical and simply accepted the situation, telling myself I was being selfish and others had their own lives to lead and resuming the friendship once this or that crisis to which I had been subjected and they preferred to turn a blind eye had passed. Not anymore though. Since turning 60 (born in 1945) I decided that enough is enough, and time is too precious to waste on such people. .

So why do I feel so guilty about it...?

It is easy enough to jump to wrong conclusions or fall prey to false impressions passed on and further distorted by gossips, hackers and the like. I guess we need to give people - especially family and friends - the benefit of any doubt; it works both ways, though ... doesn't it?

[Update 2/2016: I still feel much the same way if not more so. Having spent nearly eighteen months learning to walk again after smashing up my foot in a bad fall during the summer of 2014, I now know for sure who my real friends are. I was housebound for five months during which relatively few so-called friends could be bothered to even pick up a phone for a chat, which would have meant a lot. Oh, I haven't given up on all my fair weather friends, but our association is much the worse for wear and I will see to it that I spend far less time with them than in future.]

This poem is a kenning.

TAPPING INTO SOCIAL CONSCIENCE or SHAKING UP SOCIETY

I’ve run the gauntlet

of love, life, fun, and tears,

trying to make the best

of things rather than complain

about the worst years,

struggling to rise above

the pain human beings

inflict upon each other time

and time again

I turn to nature

for comfort and brief respite

from a daily torture

humanity asks me to endure

with all the dignity

and stoicism of someone

always expected to put

other people’s needs before

his or her own

I lie awake at night

wondering who or what

is wrong or right

amongst all that’s been said

and done in the course

of whatever merry chase

mischievous Apollo

and outcast Cassiopeia care

to lead us on

I am that heartbeat of humanity
embracing its own vulnerability

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

The World Today

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

[Update (April 15 2017): Can it really be that North Korea and the United States have brought the world closer to a nuclear war than ever before? Can even the world's leading politicians be so stupid as to do nothing, let alone even consider supporting the US should a diplomacy-inept president Trump launch some form of preemptive strike on North Korea? My opinion of world politicians has been at an all-time low for some years now, and I suspect I am not alone. I mean to say, how long before these power players start to get real about what is happening to ordinary people (not least down to their actions) in their own countries? The tragedy is, our fate lies in their hands. We can but hope that, on this occasion at least, political rivalries and divisions will be put aside in favour of some goo, old-fashioned commonsense.]

[Update (June 26 2016): Britain has just voted to divorce the European Union due to irreconcilable differences. However, the world remains a common humanity. We all need to do whatever we can to preserve and cherish its more positive values; peace and love to all - regardless of colour, creed, sex or sexuality - may well be under threat from all sides, but will resist all attempts to undermine and defeat them.  Common humanity is above any socio-cultural-religious issues; he or she who would deny that needs to get a better life.]

Meanwhile...

It would probably seem to an alien observing earth from another planet that humankind’s greater tragedy is that, essentially, nothing much changes. Take the war in Syria, for example, a humanitarian crisis of immense proportions, yet…nothing new there.

Oh, to the casual human observer, it may well seem that everything changes if only for appearances sake and that old chestnut, 'progress'. 

Ah, but to the inner eye?  Yes, well, I suspect any recorded changes as far as human nature is concerned are likely to be along the lines of some earnest historian's research or devout cleric’s optimism and any subsequent interpretations (or misinterpretations, as the case may (well) be…

Thank goodness for the arts, where all change is no change, and full marks for an honest if personal perception of those parts of a whole we call humanity that may or may not be fit for purpose.  

I sometimes wonder if we are not born into a union of Heaven and Hell (as interpreted by whomsoever) for its better and its worse, its richer and its poorer, its sickness and its health, so help us all. 

We are, though, free to do our best by ourselves and each other, and even allowing for failures and mistakes along the way, do our planet proud.  Any prospect of Armageddon is down to us, living in the Here and Now, just as any hope of survival will be down to future generations. We have a huge responsibility to the latter to make the world a better, kinder, peaceful place. What chance, though, I wonder, given the sheer fickleness of human nature...?

Whatever, make or break, the kind of world we choose to live in and perpetuate is down to each and every one of us. As for looking on the bright side of life, as I well recall my English teacher, "Jock" Rankin  telling the whole class when someone complained about words in a spelling test being too difficult. "Try looking on the bright side," he said with a wry smile, "for you can be sure there always is one. You may have come last, boy, but at least you've learned something." I didn't think much of it at the time, but years on, I have learned to appreciate how failing at some things has taught me to appreciate those who do better...and to try harder.

If there are all sides to all things )and people) let's try and to keep looking on look on the brighter side, yeah?

THE WORLD TODAY

The world today, it oozes pain and fear,

guns on the street, in playground, park;

drugs, like sweet bags left here and there,

knives stuck in backs at home, at work

Where the War on Terror taking its toll,

people afraid of their own shadows;

fanaticism failing to make us look small

but (still) wannabe suicide bombers

News over breakfast turning the stomach;

(a pill to keep going, another to sleep)

yet no one seems to care about very much

except making money, getting into debt

The world today, it oozes pain and fear,

but love, too, so it's glad I am I'm here

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2016

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

The Gift Horse

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

Some readers have contacted me in the past to say they cannot access You Tube for one reason or another so I am posting another poem + video here today. (See below.)

Alternatively, you may be able to access it directly on You Tube:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Q5zt3lkwT9k

OR Go to my You Tube channel and search by title:

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

The 4^th Plinth is the north-west plinth in Trafalgar Square in central London, UK set aside for a rolling program of contemporary art works. The current work depicts a skeletal horse in bronze. The artist, German-American Hans Haacke, says it is a tribute to economist Adam Smith and English painter George Stubbs. (The horse is based on an engraving by Stubbs taken from ‘The Anatomy of the Horse’ published in 1766.) Tied to the horse’s front leg is an electronic ribbon displaying live feed from the London Stock Exchange thereby completing the link between power, money and history.

There are many metaphors for wealth and power of which The Trojan (Gift) Horse of myth and legend is but one…

THE GIFT HORSE 

Measure of means, icon for history

gifted with beauty and power;

a horse, once tamed, a worthy ally

An ages-old metaphor for industry,

no less so for sport, and leisure;

measure of means, icon for history

Well trained, no more trustworthy

a vehicle of human endeavour;

a horse, once tamed, a worthy ally

Sometime victim of the inhumanity

human beings show one another;

measure of means, icon for history

Life force against worldly adversity,

(live metaphor for Earth Mother)

a horse; once tamed, a worthy ally

Imaging death as a skeletal memory,

elegy to nature and human nature;

a horse, once tamed, a worthy ally,

measure of means, icon for history

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Positive Thinking (Getting the Better of Dark Forces)

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

[Update (Nov 7, 2016): Readers sometimes get in touch to ask just how positive t thinking person I am. Suffice to say perhaps that, having been diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2011 and treated with hormone therapy ever since, I still take a leaf out of Monty Python's book by always looking on the bright side of life. Indeed, I have opened a Just Giving page to help raise funds for Prostate Cancer UK with a poetry reading in London next year, and am optimistic that I will continue to elude the Grim Reaper long enough to deliver: https://www.justgiving.com/fundraising/Roger-Taber ]

Now, many of us have experienced hard times since the credit crunch began to bite and may well continue to do so for some time yet.

Recalling happier times can make us feel worse…until we pause to remember that what goes around comes around.

Happy memories are reminders of what we can look forward to again. Things won’t be the same, of course. Nothing stays the same for long, but develops and matures just as we do…for all life’s ups and downs along the way.

Now, the heart may well be familiar with an autumn that turned into winter far too soon for its liking, burying memories of its finest summers under layers of sadness and longing. Ah, yes, but we can always look forward to another spring, nature bursting with the joys of life and music, inspiring us to go with its flow, recover poor, damaged hope along the way, and set about the task of making it whole again. Besides, memory knows better than to ever (quite) let go of better days even during the worst of times.

I guess we just have to allow for hard times by ensuring we pave ole Memory Lane with more than enough good times to compensate…

[Did I say it was easy?]

This poem is a villanelle.

POSITIVE THINKING (GETTING THE BETTER OF DARK FORCES)

Where angry winds blow
scary smoke rings,
a bold spirit, too, may go

Harvest home, we know
but sadness brings
where angry winds blow

Where naked fear on show
(peasantry among kings?)
a bold spirit, too, may go

Nature, daring us to follow
(dove or hawk’s wings?)
where angry winds blow

Where too few flowers grow
as dark winter clings,
a bold spirit, too, may go

Bonding with a late swallow,
of spring, a robin sings…
Where angry winds blow,
a bold spirit, too, may go


Copyright R. N. Taber 2009; 2016

Wake-Up Call

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

I suspect many if not most of us are inclined to misinterpret images conjured up by our dream selves, failing to see them as warning signs and as good a reason as any to take a closer look at ourselves…

The dawn chorus, for some of us, can be something of a wake-up call in more ways than one, lifting spirits and appealing to a bold imagination and spirituality, but only if we let it.

Too often, we get stuck in  psycho-emotional rut of our own making and we need to listen to nature's song, tap into its freely flowing potential for positive thinking.

WAKE-UP CALL

Glad chorus

greets a dawn birthing

brave new worlds

to a Here-and-Now
custom built

Love in the air,

snakes in long grass,

good and bad

sharing our burden

of choice

Lark, skylark,

dear symbol of light

and beauty,

victim of Man’s

sheer apathy

Let us not dwell

on any fears haunting

our pillows,

all that’s between us

self-destruct

Follow the skylark,

take a cue from nature,

seize the day

for the beauty we see

in one another

Copyright R. N. Taber 2000; 2016

[Note: This poem is a later version of the original that appears in 1st eds. of Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000 as ‘Alarm Call’; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

Never let a Wrinkle have the Last Word

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

I was 70 on the last winter solstice, and more than one person has expressed well-meaning sympathy for my growing old. Well, I am happy enough...most of the time.

Yes, I get aches and pains in unexpected and often inconvenient places and, yes, my treatment for prostate cancer doesn’t exactly agree with me. Even so, whenever I start feeling sorry for myself, and lamenting my lost youth, I recall a lovely old lady in her 90s whom I used to visit when I was on the staff of a local Home Library Service. She was housebound, and suffered with severe arthritis, but had a smile for everyone. I asked her once how she coped with not being able to get out and about. "Oh, but I do," she said without hesitation. "I read, watch videos and TV, listen to the radio...and let my imagination take me places you cannot imagine. Yes, I miss walking, of course I do, and neither my eyesight or hearing are are too good these days, but imagination...well, that lasts forever just so long as we give it its head and don't let real life have its wicked way with us..."

Life is what we make it at any age.  We all want different things from life, and it is down to each and every one of us to get the most out of the time we have, on the best terms available to us, instead of constantly brooding on the worst.

Did I say it was easy?

NEVER LET A WRINKLE HAVE THE LAST WORD

Growing old can be scary,

but there’s not much we can do

about it…?

So shall we take the dog

for walkies, put the world to rights

with next door’s cat, indulge

in some chat TV, watch a DVD

and leave it at that?

Ah, but there’s more

to life than our practising

the art of killing time

even if time is no friend

(or real enemy either)

Oh, and I haven’t heard

from so-and-so for ages so time

to get in touch and find out

when we can meet up, catch up,

(maybe even make up?)

The grapevine has it

a new class is starting up;

Now, was it art, crafts

or yoga? No matter, time enough

to find out more

I’ve always wanted

to do things folks said I couldn’t,

see places they said

I really shouldn’t ‘at my age’

(Yes, even then...)

Although time does us

no favours (or is it vice-versa?)

we can put records straight,

marginalise wishful thinking

and regret

Time to wake up, get up,

make up for missed opportunities,

(at least in part) though aches,

pains, and all sorts may have lots

to say about that

Time to call on an old pal

(Will Power) to haul him out

of his comfy armchair

and make damn sure he’ll start

pulling his weight

If growing old can be scary,

there’s no end to what we can do

about it…

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013; 2016