Saturday, 4 April 2020

Autobiography of a Light Bulb

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

Today's poem first appeared on my general poetry blog in 2010. A reader, Marc, who admits "I don't visit your other poetry blog often enough, especially as your poems and comments there are often support of gay people worldwide. Yesterday, I did, and discovered 'Autobiography of a Light Bulb'.Do put this on the gay blog please, I loved it, and am sure my gay brothers and sisters around the world will too." Well, many thanks for that, Martin. Hopefully, more gay readers will enjoy the poem. [It is always hard to choose which poems to publish on which blogs; a poem is a poem is a poem just as a person is a person is a person ... but it would be pretty boring for readers if I put the same poem of both blogs all the time, yeah?]

Now,people often tell me they have a feeling for poetry and would love to write a poem but never seem to find inspiration. Well, look around you. As I have often said, you can write a poem on just about anything,  I have written poems about tables, chairs, even puddles...

A reader once challenged me on this.He contacted me to suggest I could not write a poem about a light bulb.

Never let it be said I’d duck such a challenge.

Too many of us, I suspect, remain in the dark about so many things, including ourselves, but it is never too late to switch on, and take a good look; thereby lies the path to discernment and understanding...of ourselves, others too.We may be a diverse human race, but no one person in or facet of it has a monopoly on the human spirit; it is common to us all if less common is how, when or whether we ever choose to acknowledge and address it.

[Image taken from the Internet]

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A LIGHT BULB

I have coloured the cheeks of a child
at a birthday party

I have seen quarrels turn into beatings
and draw blood

I have watched over students yawning
for trying to concentrate

I have watched over meetings ringing
with raised voices

I have followed the progress of lovers
with delight

I am privy to secrets a journalist would
die for

I have been amused by such melodrama
as politicians love to stage

I have been moved by a significant few
brokering for peace

I become incensed by folks playing safe
for a quiet life

I despair of clerics reworking scriptures
to exonerate themselves

I empathise with poets transcending light
to justify darkness

Yet, party as I am to the whole sorry mess,
at least I can switch off

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

No comments: