Bells, Messaging the Spirit of Christmas

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

“Christmas… is love in action. Every time we love, every time we give, it's Christmas.” - Dale Evans

“If there are occasions when my grape turned into a raisin and my joy bell lost its resonance, please forgive me. Charge it to my head and not to my heart.” - Jesse Jackson

“Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind.” – ‘Kris Kringle’ in the movie, Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.” - ‘Scrooge’ in Stave 4 of  A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

“The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.” - Matsuo Basho

During my first winter term at Junior School, (some 70 years ago…oo-err!) a teacher asked what we most enjoy at Christmas. “Presents, sir!", more than half the class yelled. One boy simply put his hand up. When the teacher indicated for him to speak, he said, “I enjoy it because people are much nicer and kinder.” “A good point,” said the teacher with feeling, “I daresay many people would agree with you about other religious festivals as well…” He then changed the subject, but I wasn’t the only one left reflecting on his words… 😉 

As regular readers know, I became as disillusioned with most religious leaders and world religions as with most  politicians and world politics generally over the years, and now think of myself as a Pantheist. 

Now, having written and enjoyed reading poetry for as long as I can remember, I have tried to write a Poem for Christmas that reflects the common spirit of world religions, an all-embracing inclusiveness often found wanting in the interpretation of various dogma associated with them. And, no, I do not exclude Christianity. 

Although I respect anyone’s religious Beliefs, I reserve the right (as regular readers will also know) to agree to differ…

BELLS, MESSAGING THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS

Bells! Ringing out the same message
over centuries of fear
and pain, ringing out yet again
to remind the world
of such love and peace for all souls
striving, even fighting 
for peace of mind, but wishful thinking 
among any made to suffer hate and hypocrisy
poisoning a common humanity

They know, the bells, and feel our pain
as and when we struggle
to rise above it all, find peace and love
within each other,
endeavour to let the world know, for all 
its many differences,
that 'Love rules OK' and will find a way
to make its presence plainly and believably told,
no LGBT folks, left out in the cold

Hear the joyful sound of Christmas bells,
sending a message 
of peace, hope, love and goodwill 
to a common humanity,
men, women and children, no exceptions
for gender, ethnicity 
or sexual identity, celebrating heart-and-soul
of You-Me-Us by drawing on its multiple voices,
addressing the Spirit of Christmas

It's an all-inclusive You-Me-Us, a new generation,
acknowledging the kinder side of being human

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

[Note: This post-poem also appears on my gay-interest poetry blog today.] RT

Lines on the Politics of Personal Space

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

“Friendship improves happiness and abates misery by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of out grief.” Marcus Tullius Cicero

 “We are all different. There is no such thing as a standard or run-of-the-mill human being, but we share the same human spirit.” – Stephen Hawking

“As an anthropologist, I believe strongly in our common humanity. We can rise above the tribal divisions that have caused so much anguish and real damage in the past.” - Alice Roberts

“Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact”.  -William James

Now, In many ways, today’s poem-post continues yesterday’s theme/s. 

Many people, especially LGBT + folks, including yours truly, have been very disturbed and upset by the banning of rainbow armbands on the pitch during the World Cup in Qatar in support of diversity  and Human Rights; even fans wearing similarly supportive headgear have been told to remove it before entering the ground. Even so,  this action by the authorities  - including and backed by FIFA - has possibly brought the subject  even more to the fore of people's minds across the world than was intended; an own goal, so to speak, by Qatar.

Oh, and one cannot help but admire and applaud the Iranian football  team's bravery for refusing to sing their national anthem by way of making a similar protest.. Hopefully, they will not be subjected to abuse by the Iranian regime on their return home...

As regular readers will know, and some share the sentiment, growing old(er) can be heavy going at any age; either the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak or circumstances cause us to lose heart altogether and depression sets in. Somehow, we have to find our own way to rise above certain everyday ups and downs that challenge us all. (No, never easy, but… we have a choice?)

I recently had a bath lift installed after being unable to get out of the bath for a good thirty minutes some weeks ago, due to mobility problems.😀 A walk-in shower might have been suitable for some, but not someone like myself who needs to be extra careful not to get water in my ears due to perforated eardrums. After being trapped that first time, I did devise a strategy for getting in and out of the bath, but involved a degree of acrobatics that was an accident waiting to happen. Now I feel safer. 

Two close friends were a huge help and supervised my first attempts. They helped boost my patience and self-confidence to the extent that today I managed my first unsupervised bath, using the lift with no one around to help even if I needed it. Sounds simple enough, I know, but nothing is simple once years of hormone therapy for prostate cancer have messed with your thought processes. Yes, I experienced a few teething problems today, but at least I will find the next time I take a bath, a less scary and more relaxing experience.

We all need help sometimes, just as we all need to find our own pace for doing whatever, despite the pace of modern life threatening to leave us behind for one reason or another. 

Well, let it threaten; the human spirit is not easily put down… not for long, anyway, despite any temporary put-downs…

LINES ON THE POLITICS OF PERSONAL SPACE

Life is making the most of its seasons,
growing older, hopefully wiser to the tricks
time so loves to play on us all,
mind-body-spirit continuing to engage 
with an enduring heart-and-soul, 
endeavouring to keep us on the right track,
no matter such ways of a world
that would have us playing deaf, blind and dumb 
to the Politics of Outcome

It’s a tried and tested mind-body-spirit
needs to keep drawing on the native patience
at its command, constantly encouraging us
all to stay true to an evergreen heart-and-soul
urging we engage with patience, 
such patience as will see us through tough times,
head held high, resolutely refusing 
to be cowed by such ways of the world as see many
feeling defeated and empty

The world may well have its reasons,
temptations, and calls to You-Me-Us to comply,
though heart-and-soul cries out
to defy, ignore, turn a deaf ear, no matter
any alternative desires;
wiser by far to steer through troubles and strife,
follow the road map our senses
assure us will lead to far kinder, better times in store,
well worth waiting, working for...

Such is the gift of heart-and-soul, to a shared humanity,
if but the patience to devise a winning strategy

Copyright R.N. Taber, 2022

A Life in the Day of Mind-body-Spirit

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“Make the most of your regrets; Never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it ’til it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.” – Gabriel García Márquez  

“Look closely and you will see almost everyone carrying bags of cement on their shoulders. That’s why it takes courage to get out of bed in the morning and climb into the day.” ~ Edward Hirsch

“Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness; it has no taste.” – Charlotte Bronte

Now, as each day passes, my 77th birthday looming (in December) I am often hard pressed to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. I so miss being young, fit, able to make plans and feel confident that I will be well enough to not only carry them through, but also enjoy and learn from them. I miss having friends around for cosy chats and a laugh; many have moved away now and mobility problems make travelling difficult.

Ah, corny though it may sound, the human spirit really can keep us young at heart and soul, if only we will let it, Rarely (if ever) easy. We can but try, even if, as life itself invariably proves, it’s a case of ‘win some, lose some…’

A LIFE IN THE DAY OF MIND-BODY-SPIRIT

There are times in any life
when the flesh is weak, but the spirit
remains as strong as ever,
whatever its reasons or seasons,
be it a spring, summer, 
autumn or winter of mind-body-spirit;
it perseveres, encouraged
by a heart-and-soul, wiser beyond its years
to sources of human tears

There are times in any life
when waking after a poor night’s sleep 
leaves the body too weary
to even raise a smile at dawn’s rising
above early mist and cloud,
trying to force its way to half-open eyes 
and ears, through drapes 
at windows obscuring Everyman’s perception
of life, love, regeneration…

Finally, though, mind and body
takes its cue from what lends it sense,
sensibility and stability,
from birth to death, whatever in-between
may lie in wait, ready to pounce
and test us to limits sure to weigh heavy
on any host body, 
all the love attending it beseeching its survival
of Humanity’s heart-and soul

Alas, not every ear that hears
can comply with every caller’s bidding;
no call, though, is ever in vain,
no matter of the human outcome be loss,
and pain, in whatever form;
living, partly living, or stored in Memory’s
vault of eternal springtime,
there remain such ways for all selves to choose,
every which way, then…loose?

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Needs Must...

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

“There is something in the human spirit that will survive and prevail, there is a tiny and brilliant light burning in the heart of man that will not go out no matter how dark the world becomes.” - Leo Tolstoy 

“We are all different. There is no such thing as a standard or run-of-the-mill human being, but we share the same human spirit.”- Stephen Hawking 

“All the art of living les in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” - Havelock Ellis 

“In solitude the mind gains strength and learns to lean upon itself.”- Laurence Sterne

“Anger is an acid that can do more harm to the vessel in which it is stored than to anything on which it is poured.” - Mark Twain

Now, as I grow old, especially perhaps as I live alone, I find myself taking greater meaning and strength from such common idioms as ‘mind over matter’ - the more so as even everyday tasks become more difficult and take much longer. 

As regular readers know, ten years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer have really messed with my thought processes and memory generally. Even so, I find that exercising my mind even just by writing this blog and composing poems helps to lick some of those rogue thought processes into better shape in much the same way as physio exercises help the body.

I used to get so angry with myself - and with time itself - for the way I am. However, by the time I have taken a deep breath, begun to appreciate that I am still alive to tell the tale and how there are many people of all ages and walks of life in far worse circumstances than mine, I invariably calm down and give myself a severe telling-off for feeling sorry for myself rather than attempting to rise to whatever challenges present themselves in the Here-and-Now. 

From feeling lost in a wilderness, the decision to not only look for a way out, but finding one is music to deaf ears…

NEEDS MUST...

Within a mind-body-spirit
common to all humanity, a space
that’s ours alone to fill,
no matter how circumstances appear
to conspire against us
motivating our strengths or preying 
on some native weakness, 
known only to the heart-and-soul, urging us
to make wiser, kinder choices

Whenever circumstances 
make such demands of us as choices
are blurred by feelings
nurtured, cherished within inner selves
and painful to ignore
or even betray, then mind-body-spirit
may well fall apart, 
the faithful heart hurled into such confusion,
no real harm meant, much done

Needs must, we but trust
the inner self to know us way beyond
whatever faces society
may well often require us to wear if only
a façade for fear of being
made to feel, left out of things, unable
or afraid to raise a voice
in protest at this or that buzz of conversation
causing us consternation

The inner self knows us better
than we think we have got know ourselves
while journeying 
through the glorious and less glorious
passages of time, a wisdom 
beyond the confines of worldly demands,
licking us into shape,
an experience as defining an affinity with nature
as its past-present-future

As we pass through the seasons
of life, so mind-body-spirit aids and abets
our adapting to the changes
they ask of us, calling on heart-and soul
to call, in turn, on a native
willpower making us capable of far, far more
than we may have imagined, 
till needs must we rise above misgivings and pain;
no small part of being human

Copyright R N Taber 2022

Hello from London, UK

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

“In order to carry a positive action, we must develop here a positive vision. -  Dalai Lama 

“Correction does much, but encouragement does more.” - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

“A good laugh is sunshine in the house.” William Makepeace Thackeray 

“Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact.” – William James

“Life is not easy for any of us. But what of that? We must have perseverance and above all confidence in ourselves. We must believe that we are gifted for something and that this thing must be attained.” - Marie Curie 

"What we have once enjoyed, we can never lose. All that we love deeply becomes a part of us." - Helen Keller

Hello from London, UK

No poem today as I am very unwell, but while my body may be ailing, my spirit is as strong and resilient as ever, so… expect a new poem soon.

Now, all is not well here in the UK, as in so many other parts of the world, but our thoughts are always with those so much worse off, not least the people of Somalia suffering the effects of a devastating drought. Ukraine, too, deserves our support and compassion, especially those families losing loved one in the course of Putin’s cruel invasion. 

The ordinary folks of Russia loom high in our thoughts, compassion too, for they are not to blame for the machinations of Vladimir Putin’s dictatorship.

Across much of Europe and, indeed. the world, Putin’s invasion of Ukraine continues to badly affect everyday lives; a duel energy- financial crisis deepening everywhere.

Here in the UK, our politics does nothing to ease anyone’s fears of a tough, rough winder ahead. Few people I know, myself included, have any faith in our new Prime minister’s economic policies. Liz Truss - and the Conservative Party generally – are, as usual, high on rhetoric and all but negligible on detail. A neighbour who attended the recent Party conference says she had the impression that no one was coming away with much, if any, confidence.

People hate uncertainty, it scares them and makes them feel unsafe. Liz Truss’ maiden speech as Prime Minister, did nothing to allay such fears; again, high on rhetoric, low on detail. Certainly nothing to alleviate the average family’s fears regarding, energy costs, mortgages, and how to afford to put food on the table in the light of rising prices for essential groceries and travel costs.

Nothing I can say can do much to allay anyone’s fears, except perhaps to trust in the power of mind-body-spirit to unite with heart-and-soul to help us rise above the worst and keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. Never easy, I know. But… we have a choice?

Take care, everyone, I am thinking of and rooting for you all. I can offer little comfort to those in distress, except to urge you to be resilient, never give up on hope or underestimate the power of the human spirit to see us though to kinder times.

Here’s wishing you safe, well, and nurturing a positive-thinking mindset, no matter what your circumstances. 

Hugs,

Roger

You-Me-Us, Reason not the Need

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

“The mystery of human existence lies not in just staying alive, but in finding something to live for.” – Fyodor Dostoevsky

“Man is the only animal for whom his own existence is a problem which he has to solve.” -Erich Fromm  

"The greatest tragedy of human existence is the illusion of separateness." – Albert Einstein

"As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being." – Carl Jung  

"We must not wish for the disappearance of our troubles but for the grace to transform them." – Simone Weil

Now, as regular readers of either or both poetry blogs will know, I will be 77 years old later this year. As old age continues to takes its toll on various health issues, I often find myself wondering what it has all been for and…why, me?  There are no easy answers, of course. 

The main question has to be, have all the extreme ups and downs been worth it in so far as they have, at least, taught me much and brought be to this Here-and-Now, albeit one with whose pace I am finding it increasingly harder to maintain an appearance of even trying to keep up… wry bardic grin

Well, on reflection, happy memories will always get the better of bad ones; I cannot ‘see’ many of those memories now, but I can still feel them and the joy they generated.

So, yes, on balance, I am glad to be here to tell the tale. Do I deserve to be? Well, let’s face it, I’m biased… wry bardic chuckle. 

Oh, and for the reader who emailed to ask if, by You-Me-Us, I mean human relationships, the short answer is ‘yes’, bearing in mind that we can enjoy a lasting relationship with anything and anyone, at any level, if it feels right; an affinity with people, pets, nature, works of art…

YOU-ME-US, REASON NOT THE NEED

We live to love
and find ways to be happy,
but human nature
does not always concur,
mind-body-spirit
not always able to keep pace
with a heart-and-soul
subject and vulnerable to override 
by its darker side 

Ah, bur humankind
also exists to do its very best
to nurture potential
for seeing mind-body-spirit
shine a light through
any darkness, compensate 
for its mistakes
wherever, whenever and however,
(better late than never)

Yet, Time will seek
to always have its wicked way, 
with You-Me-Us,
regardless of circumstances,
answerable only
to itself, leaving humankind
at the whim
of what some would argue as its fate, 
‘late’ always too late

Time, though rarely
reckons with the positive 
nature of humanity,
its inclination to encourage
better, kinder ways
to rise above negative thoughts
inspiring the worst
in us all, leaving us prey to biased hype
and cruel stereotype

Yes, Time’s no match
for either the sheer resilience
of a common humanity
or the power of human memory
to retain, nurture 
and learn from any misfortune,
no matter the burden,
urging heart-and soul to do its very best
to alleviate the worst

To some, the meaning
of life is a blur, any reasoning
unclear as we pursue
such dreams as everyone enjoys
(win some, lose some);
only heart-and-soul has the true 
measure of us, 
whether we find ourselves united or alone
for … being but human

In whatever keeps heart-and-soul together
lies a joy forever

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Refugee

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“I am prepared for the worst, but hope for the best.” – Benjamin Disraeli

“Do the best you can until you know better. Then, when you know better, do better.” Maya Angelou

“The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.” - Lao Tzu

“They always say time changes things, but you actually have to change them yourself.”. – Andy Warhol

As the war in Ukraine rages on, tens of thousands of refugees face an uncertain future. Now, moving on is one thing; being forced to move on, uprooted from the very soil that has shaped your life so far... that’s something else altogether. We wish them every success in rebuilding their lives.

A friend once commented to the effect that that we are all refugees from our own mistakes and/ or misfortunes, trying to give our heart-and-soul the chance to build a better home in a  wiser self. Well, I guess we can but try...

REFUGEE

Need to move on,
but can’t stop keep looking back
at the way things were
when we were happy, just you and me
doing things, sharing dreams
looking for rainbows even as our heavens
falling apart at the seams

Need to move on,
taking inspiration from the way
we were then, can be again,
if we but put our shoulders to the wheel
of change, turn it anti-clockwise,
expose this Here-and-Now for just what it is,
a punchy, fistful of lies...

"Need to move on,"
they keep telling me, much loved
voices in the head, presuming
to speak for the dead, in whom our love
trusted to keep us safe, see us right,
though our thought processes left all weepy
and scared, day and night

Need to move on
from raging against the cruel winds
of war and want; let my fears
remind me there is still hope for us, winds
of peace on pause yet again,
rise above them, get a new, kinder, life for us
no ifs and buts, as and when

Need to move on,
made to run a gauntlet of life and death
challenges to which we are born,
trusting in the power of love-and-peace
to see us over the finishing line.
favourite to win, inner voices first to applaud
in front boxes reserved for reunion

Whenever the need to reshape mind-body-spirit,
the heart-and-soul up to it, never defeated

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Resilience

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“Grief and Resilience live together.” - Michelle Obama 

“I can be changed by what happens to me, but I refuse to be reduced by it.” – Maya Angelou

 As the war in Ukraine enters its 4th week, the resilience of its people continues to leave the rest of the world agog, not least its chief architect, Russian president, Vladimir Putin, who had clearly underestimated the full force of Ukranian resistance.

Indeed, I imagine Putin could well be found guilty of war crimes at some later date, and deservedly so, given that Russian troops appear, time and again, to have deliberately targeted the civilian population; men, woman and children - old, young, the sick and disabled alike.

Such are the horrors of war; so, too, for many, - on a lesser, if no less significant scale to those involved - the trials and troubles of everyday life, even in so-called peace time. More often than not, the spirit of resilience asserts and re-asserts itself, allowing heart-and-soul to overcome the worst, learn to live with it, strive for better times and win through...for others, if not always themselves.

RESILIENCE

As the burden of life on me grows,
so, too, a sense of responsibility to myself,
as much as loved ones and others,
to see it through, to an end often requiring
a compromise of sorts,
while not letting heart-and-soul lie broken
by hurricane forces,
but standing firm to even the worst of all weathers 
to the best of native endeavours

As time continues to wear me down,
would even uproot me from my place of birth,
I can but draw on such gifts
of nature as let a robin sing in bleakest winters,
spring but the likes of dreams away
as inspire human beings to survive a bitter cold,
young and old alike,
engaging with a collective mind-body-spirit to sustain
hopes of rediscovering peace again

Like the willow that bends with the wind,
I vow to survive, for myself as much as loved ones
and others caught up in storms
inflicted by nature and human nature worldwide,
though they underestimate what may lie
behind appearances, often deceived by an apparent
vulnerability, easy prey
to a determined enemy, likely to be caught out in its turn
by the steely stare of self-preservation

Always ready to lend an ear, and more,
to any distress call from heart-and soul under siege
and deserving better, no matter how
or why, although the Here-and-Now as it affects others,
especially as close to home
as some will be, may also affect shape and degrees
of such help as I can rally,
the better part of humanity needing to prove up to the task
without putting itself at too great a risk

Meanwhile, amongst chaos and destruction I dare to battle on
for such peace as offers a collective salvation, and my own...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

Endurance

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“Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory.” – William Barclay

Endurance id one of the most difficult disciplines, but it is to the one who endures that the final victory comes.” – Buddha

“Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.” – Helen Keller

“In war, whichever side may call itself the victor, there are no winners, but all are losers.” – Neville Chamberlain.

Now, there are few good-feel News stories in the world today; one such story is the release of Nazanin, Zaghari-Radcliffe forcibly detained and separated from her husband and young daughter for six long years by Iranian authorities bent on using her (among others) as a political pawn. The human mind can barely begin to imagine the full horror of her experience; it can only be awe-struck by an inspirational level of endurance.  

Meanwhile, the horrors of war continue, yet again, to dominate our tv screens as the Russian invasion of Ukraine proceeds into it fourth week...

ENDURANCE

Sometimes. mind-body-spirit
needs must force itself to rise and dance
to the music of such times past
as heart and soul would celebrate happy days,
enough as would wake the dead
if they could, but the dead prefer to sleep
in perfect peace,
the music stopped with such devilish suddenness
as gives innocence its cue for endurance

In no time at all, heart and soul,
plunged into an ultra-surreal a scenario,
like characters in a classic tragedy, played out
for all the world to watch,
moved to almost as great a despair as its players,
no end in view from which
to walk away into the nearest comfort zone,
enjoy whatever pleasures can usually be relied upon
to thrust us into a more agreeable fiction

No such comforting reality on hand
to those so caught up in the savagery of war,
as natural thought processes
temporarily on hold while struggling to make sense
of it all, no end in sight,
personal space spoiled for choice; see it through
and hope to survive – or flee,
endeavour to restore a balance of well-being in pieces,
left shell-shocked by invader-neighbours

A sense of reason, even under duress,
needs must make it way through any fog of war,
steel itself to walk a tightrope
of fear, struggle to ignore such irretrievable losses
as the simple pleasures of life
in the company of family, friends, peers.
guaranteeing the kind of tomorrows
likely to let us sleep soundly, hopeful of yet another day
to see us and loved ones safely on our way

No safety here, danger in every step taken,
dashing for cover at the sound of every air raid siren,
conscious of the enemy’s disrespect
for old and young alike, an indiscriminate bombing
and shelling, no hospital safe,
nor even a theatre, refuge for many hundreds,
only to be destroyed, few survivors
to tell their terrible tales, inflict yet more anguish and pain
on already exhausted fellow countrymen

Fathers, grandfathers and older teenage sons,
having to stay behind, face the rising crescendo of war
knowing they well may never see
and feel the comfort and joy of family togetherness
ever again, heart and soul alone
unable to quite compensate for the reality of being one,
rather than in bits and pieces
like the human jigsaw puzzle that can never be completed
though mind-body-spirits left undefeated

Time passes, but no hiding place for authors of human misery
among the pages of its history

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

 

Empathy with a Camel

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"Lives of great men all remind us, we can make our lives sublime, and, departing, leave behind us, footprints in the sand." A Psalm of Life - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.

The key to Longfellow’s often repeated quotation has to lie in the words ‘remind us’; for better or worse, we all leave our footprints in the sands of time, not only the famous (and infamous).

EMPATHY WITH A CAMEL 

Crossing a desert,
hump on the back, sniffing
out oasis and shade,
penetrating mirage on mirage
enough to attack
a hopeful visage, angry pricks
of sand, graffiti
on a human soul, left to the mercy
of fingers on a rag doll 

Crossing a desert,
hump on the back, sniffing
out oasis and shade
under the spell of a culture
of adventure,
needing to explore Dante’s inferno,
no matter vultures
invariably homing in like drug dealers
at a local disco 

Crossing a desert,
hump on the back,
sniffing out oasis and shade,
compensating for delusion
with illusion...
Lords of Misrule taking the blame
for any blisters
on the soul, although (trick or treat?)
it’s our call 

Making our way
across the sands of time, leaving
our mark, one way
or another, inspiring a generation
of hopefuls
with no intention of becoming food
for vultures to leave
misleading messages while raking over
bones of history? 

Humanity, making
what it will of its ever shifting
landscapes of sea,
sand, earth and sky, each to its own,
whether a camel
at home in a desert or human being
intending to flower,
last seen counting rings on a tree stump
and getting the hump

Whoever we are,
whether travelling on a train, bus,
sailing boat, private jet
or taking a camel ride into an inferno,
so will the Winds of Time
have us set out on yet another journey,
for better or worse,,
the richer or poorer, across multifarious
landscapes of memory 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2002, rev.2022

[Note: This poem takes its cue from an earlier poem that appears under the title 'Riddle of the Sands' in my collection, First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002; it is a complete re-working of the original poem to the extent that I hesitate to call it a revision.] RT

 

In the Blink of an Elephant's Eye

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A reader asks how I manage to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life “... in order to end most of your poems on a positive note?”  Well, I do try and have probably posted more such poems than usual lately, partly to knee-jerk a positive thinking mindset of my own in to action while, hopefully, encouraging any readers who may be feeling at a low ebb, to recharge their batteries.

I am by no means good with new technology. Writing up blog posts on my p c has always been stressful for me, but the kind of stress I welcome, if only for knowing that, by the time I am ready to publish, I will have shown various health issues just who’s boss.

Progress is, of course, part and parcel of life, but some of us adapt to it better than others, for various reasons, not the least of them being growing old and/ or having to tackle mental health issues.

To those who adapt to change fairly easily, welcome it as a challenge even, I would, of course, always encourage so positive and forward-looking approach; at the same time, I would also ask them not to be dismissive of those of us not up to the mark in one respect or another, for whatever reason. 

As we journey through life, our weaknesses often become obvious, less so the strengths that enable us to carry them, not least memories of kinder, happier times; the latter has never been about wanting time to stand still, rather it's about being inspired to journey on... whatever the next day may have in store for us. 

IN THE BLINK OF AN ELEPHANT’S EYE

Peering into the digital eye
of an elephant, my screen saver,
carried on a tide of empathy
by the beast into a digital jungle,
trumpeting our arrival
above other noises, all despairing
of anyone listening

Empathy, mind-body-spirit
conceding any virtual trumpeting
able to suss out surrounds,
savaged every day of every year,
its habitats and sources
of vital life forces put under duress
in the interests of progress

Progress for whom, though,
among creatures great and small,
left behind, struggling
to adapt while not knowing why
needs must all species
move on, make front pages of history
for classroom curiosity?

Can hear new bells tolling
nature and human nature’s failing
to solve new puzzles,
fathom new mysteries, making out
we know what’s going on,
whether or not (really) up to the mark,
all but in the dark...

Computer crashes, leaving me
wondering why, and what on earth I do
next by way of resuming
whatever progress I’d been making
in a winking, blinking,
elephant’s eye, invariably taking heart,
to reboot and restart

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

 

Addressing Time and Personal Space

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While out shopping the other day, I overheard someone say, "Growing old is bad enough without having to deal with Covid-19 as well..." I can empathise, especially as I will be 76 in December. Even so, I take the same view as Her Majesty the Queen who, at 95, recently turned down a 'Golden Oldie' award on the grounds that "You're as old as you feel."  Or as young, as the case may well be.

Mind you, I defy anyone to say they never feel their age. Some days...!

Here in the UK we need to put our clocks back an hour before going to bed tonight. Oh, and still on the subject of time...😉

ADDRESSING TIME AND PERSONAL SPACE 

I grow older,
my life is full of ghosts
inclined to taunt
and haunt me with its ebb and flow
of hopes and dreams

I grow older,
needs must find ways
to adapt to changes
progressively haunting, taunting me
with mixed feelings 

I grow old,
looking back in anger, love
and tears for all I am
that’s bent on breaking ties that bind
mind-body-spirit 

Young, once,
a part of me that will always
bask in a kinder
past-present-future that insists I stay
the course...

Younger, once,
on a learning curve that’s taught me
to keep looking
on the bright(er) side of life, whatever
it throws at me 

Younger, once,
discovering the art of letting laughter
get the better of tears,
happy talk giving alter ego more time
to swim than sink 

I grow older,
memory bent on playing tricks on me
while imagination
conjures up a positive thinking mindset
that’s ageless 

I grow older... so?
If youth and old age are but seasons
of life, let’s engage
more with rainbows than rain, roses
than snowdrops? 

Time, having us run
its gauntlet, reasoning not the need;
Earth Mother,
taking me to heart who has given it
my best shot 

Me? I am humankind,
evolving in personae after personae
as its 'live 'poetry
reaps the harvest of such memories
as it can bear 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

Love Letters in an Attic

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A reader, J C has emailed to suggest I publish too many love poems on the blog and need to "get real about life." Well, any readers for whom love is not a reality has my sympathy.  Besides, I suspect most of us have hade our fill of having to 'get real during the pandemic. Me, I live alone, but the loves I have known in my life - in all shapes and forms - have saved me time and again from sinking into loneliness and despair.  

Once engaged in, the spiritual experience of love never dies, albeit may well reside in that part of us we reserve for our favourite memories; it can be a person, a place, a pet... whatever. (Yes, I know I have said this before, and probably will again; whatever J. .C may think, the blog is about life and the forces that not only help define us, but see us through thick and thin... of which the strongest and most influential has to be love, surely?

Happy memories can make us sad, but only if we let them rather than be not only comforted, but inspired. by them. No happy memory can ever be repeated or replaced; happiness, though, can be repeated  - time and again - in various scenarios as we pass through the seasons of life;  it is a common mistake, though, to compare what or whom has made us happy with whatever or whomsoever may yet make us happy again. 

Time passes, the world changes, and so do we. Even so, if  happy times have helped make us who we are now, who are we to deny our future the same opportunity? 

Brooding on the loss of happy times is only natural, but we risk losing sight of even those; a counsellor once advised me  - in the course of my having a nervous breakdown some years ago - that the trick is to harness the spirit of happy times and let it move us on, leaving nothing and no one behind whose part in our lives not only endures, but having shown us happy times may well do so again... if we let it...

LOVE LETTERS IN AN ATTIC

Wings of a dove
trailing us, centuries
of pain, love;
many tears shed,
taken as read;
so, glides our history,
Time's passage;
all sadness forsworn,
(for the most part)
any madness forgiven,
mind-body-spirit
bravely moving on,
accompanied only
by thoughts and desires
of the tender kind,
nor leaving anything
no, nor anyone 
behind

Such feelings!
Caress me, thrill me,
enduring bird,
each faded quill,
a tender word;
our love and laughter,
 a symphony,
ever inspiring us,
cheering us on,
we lovers pairing;
twin doves,
winging personal space,
deserving far more
than these outpourings
like acid rain
bent on
having me lose you
yet again

World turning,
moving us on through
 a personal space
as only love inspires;
no boundaries,
just a continuum
wherein we run
a gamut of life forces
letting us win some,
lose some,
but all the while sending
 messages of hope
(defiance, too)
challenging us to see
life through,
the wiser
for having known
each other

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2001; rev. 2021

[Note: This poem was written in 1993, first published in my collection, Love and Human Remains by  R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001; revised, 2021.] RT

Togetherness, Poetry set to the Music of Time

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Spring, summer, autumn, winter... mixed experiences, all weathers and feelings as nature runs the gamut of its potential. Likewise, mind-body-spirit as it passes through the seasons of its life on Earth.

If the finest of weathers is sunshine and the warmth it brings so, too, the finest of feelings has to be love... and who’s to say, in the winter of our years, whether or not we shall ever see another summer...?

Love comes in all shapes and forms and, yes, sometimes the illusion can be such that we mistake it for reality, but the spirit of true love never dies...

TOGETHERNESS, POETRY SET TO THE MUSIC OF TIME

Hope, rippling summer corn

like stirrings of a child unborn,

wondering in the womb

on whatever may lie waiting between

life and tomb...

I lift my eyes to a gorgeous sky,
loose more dreams, watch them fly
like the tail of a child’s kite
flapping bravely against nature's 
might till barely a flicker, 
waved out of sight with tearful eye
and puckered brow, the child
I once was, returning now across
shadowy years, watery eyes
less of a surprise in the summer air
than once having sought 
without finding, been hurt without
making a sound while caged
in a breast so often deprived of rest,
tired of hearing “it's for the best,”
weary of waiting for waiting’s end,
lonely for want of a dear friend,
finally found, only to sail off on a sea
of corn,  FREE – and you’re smiling
wistfully back at me who’s left to bear
a heavy heart, weather the pain
that has us part, your look that says
“We made our world a far, far happier,
and kinder place..." 

A summer breeze, making music 

like a piano player idling at the keys

with an artist’s ease, lulling Earth’s

so-restless womb before the breaking

of a storm that’s spreading alarm

amongst the corn; I spot a field mouse,

tiny, quick, soon forgot, needs must

hasten my own tread, the music growing

to a crescendo in my head, like LIFE,

LOVE... Instead, I’ll linger in this place

and to wind and rain, I’ll lift the face 

of one who’s glad he came to see-hear

our history passing into such beauty

as I’ll always cherish for being no less

a part of you-me-us than s the shoes 

I wear, though much worn through a world 

much torn in two, three, and more 

by envy, hate and war, I have to say, kneeling

now to pray (to what or whom, who knows

with certainty until we get to be part

of the poem that's eternity?) Now, though,

dear friend I cannot let you go without 

thanks for today,  its agenda

for lasting peace and love ringing all the truer

for our being together... 

Hope, rippling  summer corn

like the stirrings of a child unborn,

wondering in the womb,

at whatever may lie waiting beyond 

life and tomb

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001, 2021

 [Note: The original version of this poem was written in 1998 and was first published under the title ‘Once More, Dear Friend’ in my collection, Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001; it has recently been considerably and significantly revised.] RNT

 

Mind-Body-Spirit, Subject to Time and Consequence(s)

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

A wise woman, my mother. She died 25+ years ago, but I probably listen n to her more now than I ever did. I could be a naughty child (who isn’t?) at which times she would teach as well as scold. She once pointed out that almost everything we say has consequences, for better or worse, for ourselves and/or others; the latter, especially, we may never be made aware of... 

All the more reason, I eventually understood, to think before we do something, or don’t do it as the case may be... 

Easier said than done, of course, yours truly no less guilty than anyone else of forgetting to look before we leap and risk feeding this or that cliché its potential for truism. 

MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, SUBJECT TO TIME AND CONSEQUENCE(S) 

Surely, the tide,
as surely life’s sweet dreams saving us
from ourselves and each other for offering
alternatives? 

I see your face
in a brave moon, straining to shine on,
but in vain as needs must it, too, take its cue
from Apollo

 Surely, the tide,
as surely as high hopes of fame, fortune
superseded by life-images of lovers kept busy
building bridge 

They laughed us
off the planet, yet we’d take it on the chin,
find a white horse to help us find our way back,
time and again 

We rode to hell
and back, you and I, joining Earth Mother
in races against the clock, win some, lose some,
no going back 

Yes, we fell prey
to a collective giving, taking, having to settle
for less than we bargained for, our personal space
a saving grace 

Now, a sure tide’s
surfing me still (always will), moving me on
to that one-and-only shore proving longer than life
for being loved

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2021 

[NB: This poem has its origins in an earlier poem, Surfing, that appears in my first collection, Love and Human Remains, Assembly Books, 2000 (see also Gay blog, March, 2011); it had already appeared in several poetry journals and worked well enough at the time, but 20+ years on, subsequent changes in form and content defy my referring to it as simply a revision.] RNT

Hello again from London UK

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

Reader A J asks if he or she can put the URL for my blogs on social media “since you seem to disapprove of social media and avoid it yourself...”

I don’t entirely disapprove of social media; it has its merits, but having tried it once, I have no wish to return to it. However, should any readers feel they want to share the blog URL, they are welcome to do so; all three blogs - general poetry/ gay-interest poetry and fiction + archives can be accessed from:

https://rogertab.blogspot.com

Anyone recommending the link may well wish to add that I do not publish comments, complimentary or otherwise. Neither do I reply to emails now - except from friends and regular blog readers - as various  health issues include poor eyesight.

Any LGBT poetry lovers may well be especially interested in that blog’s archives as I rarely add gay-specific poems these days, mostly due to lack of inspiration; years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer have left me sexually inactive and less able to relate to and enter into the spirit of the poem.

In spite of health issues, I am hoping to self-publish limited (print) editions of new collections which, as previously, will include a gay section as well as some poems of interest to LGBT readers in other sections; with any luck, these will also be available on-line at a later date. However, prostate cancer has a mind of its own so there will come a time - hopefully sooner rather than later - when there will be no more tomorrows for yours truly. Whatever, c’est la vie, so better to make the most of what we have while we have it, each in our own way...?

Years of hormone therapy may have played merry hell with my thought processes, but writing poetry helps keep them in some sort of order, so I will continue to add to the poetry blogs as long as I can.

Another reader asks if I intend to add to my fiction blog. Sadly, it is very unlikely as I couldn’t even interest any in my fantasy novel, Mamelon and don’t have the energy these days, let alone inspiration. Even so, I enjoyed my foray into fiction, so no regrets.

Meanwhile, I take each day as it comes, treat it as a bonus and do my best to nurture a positive-thinking mindset. 

I am working on a new poem, and hope to publish it on the blog soon. Sadly, poems take me a lot longer to write these days, but I enjoy making the effort; as I have said many times on the blog, it is a form of creative therapy I can throw myself into and temporarily forget health concerns, pandemic implications and other worries. As my mother used to say, “If you worry, you’ll die and if you don’t worry, you’ll still die, so...why worry?” 😉

Take care everyone, and try to stay positive, whatever life throws at you; time may not heal altogether, but - partnered with good sense and sensibility - it can do a pretty good job, if we let it...

Bye for now,

Hugs,

Roger

Points of View

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Rising above a deteriorating quality of life these days, mostly due to various health issues, I am rarely in the mood to reply to emails unless they are from friends and/or about poetry or such passions as also provide mind-body spirit with creative therapy as well as a healthy emotional diet.  However, someone who signs themselves ’an elderly male reader’ has expressed despair at being “...unable, for various reasons, to make love to my partner of nearly thirty years.” and worries that the partner “... is already  looking elsewhere, and I will be left alone...”

I am in no position to advise as I have been without a partner for the best part of a lifetime, but I have been in love and I strongly suspect that this reader has nothing to fear. It is important, though, that he and his partner talk about this. Too many of us fail to discuss our more intimate concerns with loved ones; either we are embarrassed and/ or fear the possible outcome. Whatever, it is always better to know than just suspect; the latter can only loose all manner of demons upon us, not the least being jealousy.

As regular readers will know, years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer has left me with no appetite for sex in any form; even porn mags don’t turn me on. At first, it left me feeling emotionally inadequate, and I missed the sheer pleasure of lovemaking. Now, though, I take pleasure even more pleasure in such simple delights as meeting up and putting the world to rights (as if!) with friends and/or visiting places I love, whether for real or in my imagination.  

While I don’t miss sex anymore, I can appreciate that it's not the same for everyone, nor do all men of a certain age lose either their appetite for sex or their ability/ inclination to perform. Even so, the expression ‘making love’ is something of a misnomer, to say the least; love is not made, it is created between soulmates who are mutually inspired by letting it grow and mature. 

There is great pleasure to be taken from sex between partners who are physically attracted to one another, and nothing wrong with it at all, but whether or not they fall in love, that is something else altogether.

A heart-to-heart between this reader and his partner will establish the emotional paths both need to take; should the partner need to continue satisfying his or her sexual appetite the reader should try not  see this as a poor reflection on their love for one another. Easier said than done, I agree, but life is rarely easy in every way. Such are the ways of love that they, too, are no less inclined to test mind-body-spirit from time to time, trusting it to pass with flying colours... or not, as the case maybe.

POINTS OF VIEW

At open windows by the sea,
listening to waves telling and retelling
stirring tales of derring-do,
discovery and exploration, lifting
spirits while breaking hearts
of those left counting days and nights
before any returns on dreams
likely to leave pride in tears, love in pain,
time after time, and time again 

At open windows on cornfields,
leafy woodlands and all manner of bird
and beast sure to nurture
its natural surroundings in the time left
before the human race,
cocksure of ways and means to match
any end-of-world scenarios,
continues to confuse its images of progress
with paths of peace and happiness 

At open windows on the world,
expecting even more from its seasons,
in demonstrating our worth,
nature and human nature, each as vulnerable
as the other to kindness
and neglect, pride, disrespect. even violence
as weathered during Earth Mother’s
labour pains for both peopling and colouring
landscapes worth the nurturing 

At dead of night, left to reflect
on such life-forces as have inspired us
to let love light up our lives, thereby creating
a kinder, wiser personal space, addressing
past mistakes, shying away
from a Here-and-Now that’s dependent
on algorithms as may well suffice,
but never replace innate sensibilities, life forces
defining Earth Mother for centuries... 

Reminding nature-and-human-nature how progress
is best judged by its capacity for alleviating distress

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

Beautiful Dreamer

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When we are young, many if not most of us like to think we are invincible, the world our oyster and every beautiful dream worth chasing. It may well be that we are able to make some dreams come true while others will invariably fall short of the mark. 

An elderly friend once commented along the lines that what he hated most about growing old was that dreaming becomes redundant. “Dreams are about the future,” he insisted, “What future is there for ordinary folks like me who have neither the money nor energy to pursue impossible dreams?” It was meant as a rhetorical question, but one I could not resist answering. 

As I see it, young people making their way in life have no more monopoly on beautiful dreams than religion has on spirituality. As we grow old, our mind-body-spirit is as likely to tune into our past-present-future just as it has always done- if we but let it. 

Aged 75 and living alone, I cannot pretend that old age is as I imagined it years ago, and I don’t see much of a future for myself. Yet, recalling the better, kinder aspects of my past and present along with those with whom I shared them, continues to fill what otherwise would be long, lonely days... nights, too. 

As I have said many times on the blog, love takes all shapes and forms; friends, places, and favourite pastimes as well as lovers. Old age may place limitations on any or all of these by way of various medical, issues, physical or psychological reasons, but they are part of who we are and that may well change outwardly, but not inwardly. 

The inner self is never too old to dream; if it cannot look forwards, it can always look back, and I defy anyone to say they have none of the better, kinder, things in life to look back on, not with regret for their having passed, but with thanks for their having come our way. 

Such is life; such, too, is the stuff of sweet dreams. So, you ask, what about nightmares? Well, many of us have those, awake and asleep; I guess the trick is letting the light of a sandman’s lantern save us from being overwhelmed by the shadows it throws. 

BEAUTIFUL DREAMER 

I am the glow
that lights up any dark
encroaching
on the mind-body-spirit
that’s edging
too close for comfort
to an abyss,
watching over us though we 
embrace or deny it 

I am close kin
to the star we wish upon
as darkness
threatens to leave us feeling
abandoned, scared,
just as we were whenever
we felt much like
ill-chosen pieces of a jigsaw in
an impossible dream 

I inspire the hopes
of things to come when life
is as likely
to fail us as we may well fail
even ourselves
and each other now and then,
by chasing rainbows, 
only to kickstart yet more storms
in tea cups or wherever 

I, am Love, as eternal a companion
as ever lit a Sandman’s lantern 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

Dotting I's and Crossing T's

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

)I recall various classmates of 1961 becoming very feisty and argumentative when asked to comment on certain lines in T. S. Eliot’s Murder in the Cathedral. 

When asked to explain so many different arguments and points of view, the class became feistier still and even more argumentative. 

Everyone was clearly enjoying themselves, possibly because most of us hadn’t expected to enjoy the poem, not least for having had to read it for homework over the previous school holidays. 

No less aware then now as to how differences of personal opinion and interpretation can touch base with passions in us with which we may or may be overly familiar, it was my first major experience of seriously thinking about it. 

We need to hear and respect different points of view if only to help us formulate a critical response to them.   

DOTTING I’s AND CROSSING T’S

World, all but falling apart
seemingly losing heart, its peoples
coming together
now and then, but only in times
of crises, personal space
and sensitive global consciousness
then left to divide again,
crying over potential healing undone,
dying to review Square One 

World, looking all but dead
on its feet, weary of its weepy days,
anxious to revive kinder ways,
bridge chasms widening, deepening,
invariably by courtesy
of a global consciousness dead set
on reaping the better part
of nature-nurture in the sowing, reaping,
and saving of its own future 

Humanity, playing the world
with its demand for new technologies,
would have us tell tales
on each other, create such histories
of one-upmanship as embrace
all the politics of progress ever needed
to take credit where it’s to be had,
while any getting too close to home truths
dubbed vulnerable to fake news 

No matter how we dot its ‘i’ or cross its ‘t’,
it only takes one ‘y’ to redefine humanity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021