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.

Tuesday 28 July 2020

Taking Stock OR A Sense of Perspective

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

I am not happy with the new blogger and wasn't when I was invited to try it some time ago. I had hoped we bloggers might  be given a choice  to continue in the old format, but it appears not, so I may not be blogging here for much longer. It is typical - in my personal experience - that so many people and organizations, even some shops, give little thought to how many older people like myself  - who do not have i-phones or android and struggle with IT - are  easily confused, especially those of us living alone and have been struggling with other health issues long before the Covid-19 pandemic. However, I will see how I get on with the new format when needs must ... but am not optimistic. Meanwhile, I will continue in the old format while I still can ...

Today's poem last appeared on the blog in 2014.

People often tell me that as we grow old(er) we spend more time looking back because there are fewer reason to look forward, and it is this ‘negativity’ that  drags us down and others with us. I don’t agree. Looking back can be inspirational, stirring mind and spirit as once it was stirred by the sheer energy and imagination of earlier years, to that sense of spirituality intrinsic to nature and human nature and which may or may not have anything to do with religion.

True, taking stock of one's life can be a scary business; we invariably find self and life wanting. Yet, it can be a comfort too, reminding ourselves that we are but human and our failures are as much down to that as our successes. It reminds us, too, that we are as we are, live as we live…and there is time yet to open our eyes to more of the same (and its multiple variations) before they close forever upon one perspective at least on the art of being human.

I wrote this poem (a villanelle) in a reflective mood on Brighton pier. As regular readers will know, I have been going to Brighton since I was a very young child and my mother would take me during school holidays. I will be 75 later this year so have a lot of taking stock to do from time to time.

It is so true that taking stock of our lives may not always be as rewarding a process as we might like, but it can (if we let it)  help us remember who we are, how we got this far, and even (maybe) lend us the insight to right a few wrongs, make good some mistakes, identify and work through the fears as well as the more positive life forces that drive us ...

This poem is a villanelle.

TAKING STOCK or A SENSE OF PERSPECTIVE

On Brighton pier,
empathy with a feisty sea,
a lifetime to share

Child of yesteryear
spotted waving cheerfully
on Brighton pier

Mist starts to clear,
waves splashing excitedly,
a lifetime to share

Cloud faces as queer
as folk, smile convincingly
on Brighton pier

Listen, and I can hear
a world in perfect harmony,
a lifetime to share

Of life-death, no fear,
for engaging with positivity
on Brighton pier,
a lifetime to share

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2005; 2018

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

Labels: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,

Wednesday 11 January 2017

Lewes, Landscape of Imagination


This poem is the direct result of a visit to the historic Sussex town of Lewes. As always, my friend Graham Collett shot and edited the video and I wrote a poem to accompany it. I have posted the video/poem on my You Tube channel:


or access direct at:


It was during the latter days of last summer that Graham  and I visited Lewes. We only had time to visit the castle and Anne of Cleves’ House, and we thought you might enjoy sharing the experience.

The town is the location of several significant historic buildings, including Lewes Castle and a sixteenth-century timber-framed Wealden hall house known as Anne of Cleves House because it was given to her as part of her divorce settlement from Henry VIII; although there is no historical evidence to show that she never lived there, she may well have visited from time to time.  

Both Anne of Cleves' House and the Castle are owned and maintained by the Sussex Archaeological Society.

LEWES, LANDSCAPE OF IMAGINATION

Looking for creative therapy?
Visit the landscape of imagination,
take a journey into history;
Lewes, spoils of Norman invasion,
Courtesy of William, Conqueror
to William de Warenne and spouse
on overcoming Saxon resistance,
a castle there to build on the Ouse,
dedicated to St Pancras,
in remembrance of a child martyr,
executed for his faith

Pass through the Barbican Gate,
get a feel for olde England surrounds;
a Motte and Bailey castle,
later fortified with stone, the better
to defend against invasion;
few richer spoils of time to be found,
firing the imagination,
filling inner eye and ear with sights 
and sounds of generations
ghosting a courtyard dominated
by all-seeing towers

Climb, climb, a winding stair
of stone, labour of love, chiselled
out of the history
of olde England, witness to battles
and executions,
as well as celebrations, successes
and failures of its tenants
over centuries of war and peace;
echoes of laughter and tears
haunting East Sussex surrounds
for a thousand years

Lewes, meeting its past head-on,
where Anne of Cleves, and entourage
loyal to a discarded queen
may well have sought out the peace
of Tudor England’s green
but troubled land, under a fickle king
so desperate for a son
he wed unwisely (six times, no less)
letting ego-led lust have its head,
while Anne kept hers, even acquired
a house in Lewes

Time, though, will wait for nothing
and no one, least of all a poem passing
through its eternal passages
of fame and fortune, secrets and lies,
honourable deaths, executions
history may well attempt to justify
and scholars make excuses
while poets love to visit time and again,
bring to the landscapes
of imagination, inner eye and ear,
open to whatever…

Day done, history’s curtain drawn
across the windows of minds anxious
to chew on history’s bones,
reach their own conclusions as to how
past into present excavations
of various ruins and other testaments
to history’s own, for better or worse,
invest ghosts the ilk of Anne of Cleves
and such tenants as its castle
once let live, love, make merry and die,
with a singular peace…

Lewes

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Note: I had problems uploading the video to You Tube so you may need to watch it again if your first attempt resulted in any distorted images.



Labels: , , , , , , , , , , ,