http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
A new reader has been in touch asking about my poetry reading on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square that is mentioned in my Wikipedia entry. The entire web stream is now archived in the British Library. You can access my contribution via the link below; removing my name from the link will enable you to access all 2400 contributors:
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...
I have never kept a conventional diary. Yet, my poems are a diary of sorts. They reflect thoughts inspired by all manner of people, places and events, all coming together at that crossroads we like to call a philosophy of life. Readers are invited to share without being asked or expected to take the same journey; hopefully, some of you will find something along the way to make your own lives that little bit easier and/or reassuring and/or comforting. If I fail miserably, at least I have left a record of my own journey. Certainly, I enjoy retracing my steps from time to time. (I can still remember the feeling of pride I felt on my first Gay Pride march in London. Pride, less in myself than in being a part of everything the march stood for and standing shoulder to shoulder with people feeling much the same way, each after his or her own fashion.)
Whenever I read a poem of mine, I usually think how I could have done better. Even so, I instantly relive the experience of writing it and likewise the inspiration behind it. It’s like flicking through pages of living memory; seeing, hearing, tasting, touching and smelling early years, middle years and later years... getting a sense of endings that are not endings and feeling encouraged to believe that nature has more in store for us than just ‘The End.’
On a very personal note, my poems track my love for a man that lies at the root of just about everything I do, say, write and am. Our relationship may not have lasted long in terms of time but rose above that to conquer space. He was killed in a road accident years ago. For a while, my world stood still. But love was having none of that and told me to get on with my life. So I did. But he is as much a part of me now as he was then.
So we were two gay men in love...so what? The heterosexual majority never had a monopoly on love.
I, DIARY
Sun on my face, joy in my ears,
summer jostling for pride of place
among the seasons of my life
Feel autumn drawing near,
its leaves jostling for pride of place
among the pages of my life
Tears on my face like icicles,
winter jostling for pride of place
while Earth Mother takes five
Sun on my face, joy in my ears,
springtime jostling for pride of place
among the seasons of our life
Feel summer drawing near,
its leaves jostling for pride of place
as we turn the pages of our life
End pages, no blank space,
words of love signing off our history
while Earth Mother takes five
Copyright R. N. Taber 2011
A new reader has been in touch asking about my poetry reading on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square that is mentioned in my Wikipedia entry. The entire web stream is now archived in the British Library. You can access my contribution via the link below; removing my name from the link will enable you to access all 2400 contributors:
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...
I have never kept a conventional diary. Yet, my poems are a diary of sorts. They reflect thoughts inspired by all manner of people, places and events, all coming together at that crossroads we like to call a philosophy of life. Readers are invited to share without being asked or expected to take the same journey; hopefully, some of you will find something along the way to make your own lives that little bit easier and/or reassuring and/or comforting. If I fail miserably, at least I have left a record of my own journey. Certainly, I enjoy retracing my steps from time to time. (I can still remember the feeling of pride I felt on my first Gay Pride march in London. Pride, less in myself than in being a part of everything the march stood for and standing shoulder to shoulder with people feeling much the same way, each after his or her own fashion.)
Whenever I read a poem of mine, I usually think how I could have done better. Even so, I instantly relive the experience of writing it and likewise the inspiration behind it. It’s like flicking through pages of living memory; seeing, hearing, tasting, touching and smelling early years, middle years and later years... getting a sense of endings that are not endings and feeling encouraged to believe that nature has more in store for us than just ‘The End.’
On a very personal note, my poems track my love for a man that lies at the root of just about everything I do, say, write and am. Our relationship may not have lasted long in terms of time but rose above that to conquer space. He was killed in a road accident years ago. For a while, my world stood still. But love was having none of that and told me to get on with my life. So I did. But he is as much a part of me now as he was then.
So we were two gay men in love...so what? The heterosexual majority never had a monopoly on love.
I, DIARY
Sun on my face, joy in my ears,
summer jostling for pride of place
among the seasons of my life
Feel autumn drawing near,
its leaves jostling for pride of place
among the pages of my life
Tears on my face like icicles,
winter jostling for pride of place
while Earth Mother takes five
Sun on my face, joy in my ears,
springtime jostling for pride of place
among the seasons of our life
Feel summer drawing near,
its leaves jostling for pride of place
as we turn the pages of our life
End pages, no blank space,
words of love signing off our history
while Earth Mother takes five
Copyright R. N. Taber 2011
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