Mother, Mine (Alice Maud Taber 1916-1976)

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

Hello again, folks, from London UK

Many thanks to the gay reader who says he has been exploring and very much enjoying the blo archives. 

Now, I hope you all managed to enjoy the Christmas spirit in spite of the pandemic and its new Omicron variant raging all around us.

For many families who have lost a loved one to Covid-19 or for any other reason, Christmas, like birthdays and other family gatherings make us all the more aware that someone is missing; it can be a painful experience, but as time goes by, we learn to live with happy memories of that person, always with us in spirit if small compensation for their absence.

For example, I still miss my mother who died in 1976, but her indomitable spirit remains a part of me and has helped me through many a personal crisis. The poem below is the Dedication poem that precedes my collection, A Feeling for the Quickness of Time; it has been significantly revised since publication in 2005.

As regular readers will know, many of the poems in my collections have been revised in the course of appearing on my blogs and I am hoping to publish revised editions before the Grim Reaper comes calling; if not, a close friend has said he will see to, it if we can find a publisher. All my collections include a gay section and no UK publishers have showed any interest, so I self-published limited editions under my own imprint; many copies went to public libraries where I am pleased to say they issued well. As a poet, I am no household word nor ever likely to be, but this general poetry blog has passed 202,012 views and the gay-interest poetry blog has had nearly 170,000 views, so many thanks again, dear readers, for being regular visitors.

Sadly, we LGBT folks - from all walks of life - continue to be much maligned worldwide, but there is less hatred and prejudice than when I was growing up, except within certain religious groups who fail to see that sexuality is not a lifestyle choice, but simply who we are in mind-body-spirit. Their leaders speak of a God of Love and preach Goodwill to All...so, to exempt LGBT folks has always struck me as the height of hypocrisy. (Why can't we all simply agree to differ and respect each other for that, regardless?)As a gay pantheist, I refuse to believe that any God would deny me a sense of His ethereal presence any more than Earth Mother would deny me a sense of Hers; rightly or wrongly, I don’t believe any religious agenda has the right to exclude anyone on the grounds of sexuality alone. (Yes, I know I have said this many times, but, as my dear mother would often say, if something is worth saying, it is always worth repeating.)

We all owe much of what and who we are to one or both our parents or to whoever took responsibility for raising us. I count myself very fortunate, indeed, to have the likes of my late mother as a positive role model.  Although my father and I did not get along, I owe him, too, a debt of gratitude for providing a home for the family. Gratitude, though, is not the same as love.; if he loved me in his own way, he certainly never showed it, and no child can expected to be a mind-reader. As far as I am (still) concerned, he was a psychological bully towards me and , for this reason, could not bring myself to attend his funeral in the early 1980's..

I am working on a poem for New Year's Day, so hope you will join me again then. Meanwhile...

MOTHER MINE (ALICE MAUD TABER, 1916-1976)

Mother, you were always there for me,
always believing in me more than I believed
in myself, knowing me
better than I knew myself, always loving me
more than I loved myself,
although I could not give all you all you' had hoped
for me, live and love how you wanted for me
subscribe to your dream, sadly only ever a fantasy
of family unity...

We did our best by each other, endeavouring
to support one another through life’s cruel maze
of emotional twists, turns and dead-ends;
me, unable to grasp for years
how conflicting family loyalties were daily
tearing at your heart, divided so
by the very loved-ones to whom you gave your all,
never quite finding peace of mind for our making you
Love’s own dear thrall

Yet, years on since a cruel tumour took its toll,
you continue to comfort my very soul, feed into it
all that good about mind-body-spirit,
lamenting its mistakes while making sure it follows
a learning curve, finds inspiration
in the Poetry of Love, resists
rather than too easily caves in to darker life forces
likely to confound and confuse us until we lose any sight
of potential consequences

Mother dear, you will always be the first to whom
I turn, to help and guide me along kinder paths than some
I’ve inadvertently taken, for turning
deaf ears and blind eyes to that still, small voice within
that would urge me not err or sin
on the side of an inflated ego that cannot see woods
for trees nor will admit
any flaws in a mind-body-spirit, much to live for and learn
about what makes the world turn

A part of me now, as always, oh, wise and wonderful mother,
no distant memory, but a part of me forever 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2005; rev. 2021

[Note: A This poem also appears on my general poetry blog today; an earlier version first appears as a Dedication in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]

 

 

 

  

The Way Ahead

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

I will try and compose a new poem for this blog soon. Sadly I am feeling low on inspiration these days, but continue to root for gay man and woman worldwide, especially those who feel trapped in a closet from which there seems no obvious escape without inflicting incalculable hurt to family and friends who sill cannot accept us LGBT folks as...only human.

Meanwhile... these are troubled times for us all as Covid-29 pursues its relentless course around the world, its variants hopefully indicating that its powers are diminishing, but as yet no hard evidence that such is the shape of things to come. We can but call on mind-body-spirit to lend us both hope and wherewithal to see us through our pain and see the hopeful heart emerge the stronger if not unscathed.

We face a difficult New Year ahead, but let us face it with a sense of collective responsibility, cautious optimism and that all-embracing hopeful heart with which this blog and its author-poet has been much concerned from its start, nearly ten years ago.

Here’s wishing you all as Happy a New Year as we can make it for family friends and those we have yet to get to know as well as ourselves.

Many thanks for dropping by, hope to engage with you again soon. (Yes, I am working on a poem to greet 2022.)

Hugs,

Roger

THE WAY AHEAD

A new year approaching,
as we can’t help but wonder
in fear and dread
whether or not it will be another
that’s Covid-19 led?

Everyday life, a struggle
with every safety precaution
taken by a majority,
wearing face masks still rejected
by a scared minority

Vaccinations, to protect us,
young, old and more vulnerable
in societies worldwide;
a race against Covid’s angry tide,
no one spared

Deaths soaring, hospitals
overflowing, staff left struggling
as more become infected,
so many businesses having to close,
no one unaffected 

Delta, a vicious Covid variant
overtaken by the Omicron mutation;
world scientists passing on
relevant data as it becomes available,
inevitable confusion

Meanwhile, world still turning,
all its peoples left weeping such crises
of nature and human nature;
inevitable stress, invariable fall-out,
past-present-future

Yet, there is a resilience among
humanity seeing us rise above the worst,
forces for good working
to lend us strength enough to alleviate
our suffering

Among the ruins of a life, engaging
with Love and Kindness, always
ready and willing to help us
bring the hopeful heart into play against
even a coronavirus

Mind-body-spirit, up for whatever task;
we have but to ask...

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

[Note: This poem also appears on my general poetry blog today.] RT

Comfort and Joy OR A pandemic called Loneliness

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

"If you're lonely when you're alone, you're bad company." - Jean-Paul Sartre

They say you can be lonely even in a crowd. For me, that was never so true as during my closet years. Sadly even in this 21st Century of ours, here are still many LGBT folks who feel unable to leave that same, lonely closet for on reason or another. I respect those reason, of course, but urge anyone who feels they are caged-in, as I did for many years, to find the strength of will to escape it and trust that family, friends and peers will accept that we LGBT folk are only as human as they themselves.

Now, several people have expressed concern that I will be on my own over Christmas, but I welcome the solitude and an opportunity to engage with both a positive-thinking mindset and you, too, dear readers, especially any of you who might also on your own; a mixed blessing at the best of times, even more so  as Covid-19 and its variants continue to rage all around us. 7

As I have said many times on the blog, love comes in many shapes and sizes. I defy anyone to say they have never loved, and/ or  been loved; it may feel like it sometimes, but we only have to look within ourselves to realise we may well be suffering from blurred vision, invariably due to hard times...

I have only  just written this poem, off the cuff, to help reassure all of you, me too, that the world may well be a mad one, but it has a kind heart and a mind-body-spirit more than capable of overcoming any pain and fear if we but engage with and give it its head... Not always easy, true, but what in life is ever easy...?

Perhaps, after all, there is a lot to be said - in many if not most circumstances - for the old adage, 'No Pain, no Gain.'

COMFORT AND JOY or A PANDEMIC CALLED LONELINESS

Alone at Christmas, yet not so,
surrounded by cards from family and friends,
marking where love begins
and any wallowing in self-pity ends
just for knowing they are there
and thinking of me, each part of a memory
that’s fresh and evergreen,
written and signed with such love on the heart,
as to comfort global mind-body-spirit

Alone at Christmas, yet not so,
fond thoughts traversing past-present-future
with thanks and hope
for things yet to come, feed inspiration,
even a salvation of sorts
in the eyes of whatever God and Earth Mother
engages with the souls
of all creatures great and small if only for trying
to give and make the best out of living 

Alone at Christmas, yet not so,
a sense of peace and joy flowing through bones
that have taken knocks enough
over years of struggling to get by in a world
that would pass us by
if we let it, but for such enduring spirits as Love
and Kindness, invariably there
for us at times of need, not always on time (if ever)
but, true to say, “Better late than never...) 

Loneliness is a pandemic for which no vaccination,
yet, to love and have been loved its sure salvation 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

[Note: this post-poem also appears on my general poetry blog today.] RT

 

 

 

  

Hello again, Everyone, from London UK

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

"Times of terror and the deepest misery may arrive, but if there is to be any happiness in this misery, it can only be a spiritual happiness related to the past in the rescue of the culture of early ages and to the future of a serene and indefatigable  championship of the spirit in a time which would otherwise completely swallow up the material." - Herman Hess (The Glass Bead Game)

Hello again Everyone, from London UK

Hi folks,

Sorry, no poem yet as my health issues are ganging up on me, but they on't include Covid-19 or any of its variants, so am trying to look on the bright(er) side of life... albeit through a misty window.😉

Again, most of this post appears on both poetry blogs today, given that feedback suggests some LGBT readers  are only interested in LGBT-specific poems. I can but urge them to explore the blog archives as most of my early entries are precisely that...

Yesterdays, my 76th birthday, I had lunch with my best friend who was later mugged, his debit card stolen and phone smashed. I.am hoping to see him later today if the trains are running ok as I don't have a car; travel is not advised, but needs must... Fortunately, he is not hurt, but may well be in shock for awhile yet. It was a birthday we won't forget, and much the same will apply to Christmas this year, already in tatters for many people due to the meteoric spread of Omicron. 

I am working on a positive-thinking poem to post here on Christmas Day, so do drop by over Christmas if you can. Meanwhile, we can only do our best to enjoy as Happy a Christmas as we can make it each in our own way. 

As regular readers know, I am not a Christian but a Pantheist. Whatever, we all deserve a good slice of Peace and Goodwill at any time of year, especially in the middle of a pandemic that is creating personal crises for so many people, not least in terms of their mental well-being. Stress is a cunning beast; it can creep up on us unawares and/or insinuate itself among other worries and concerns we may be having to deal with and see that we get everything out of proportion to such an extent that depression sinks its teeth into us and we feel we just cannot cope.

If you know someone who tells you they cannot cope any more, do lend a helping hand as well as a shoulder to cry on Some people, especially men, seem to think that giving way to stress is a weakness to be kept hidden. Ah, but we are only human, men and women, younger and older; there is no shame in asking for help. Yes, I know I have said this before on the blog, only recently too, but - as my mother used to say - if something is worth saying, it is worth repeating... time and again if necessary.

That's all for today, I'm afraid, as I need to get on with some physical exercises if only to  find relief for my mounting anxieties before I visit my friend who has been mugged. Oh, and I expect to be back by early evening, in time to tap Inspiration for yet another Covid Christmas poem.

If you have time and are in the mood, do feel free to explore the blog archives.

Take care everyone, stay safe and do your best to keep nurturing a positive-thinking mindset,

Hugs,

Roger

Tattered Remains OR The Fall and Rise of Mind-Body-Spirit

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

“Sometimes, even to live is an act of courage.” – Lucius Annaeus Seneca (c.4BCE – 65 CE)

A reader asks why I continue to publish post-poems that are not LGBT-specific to his blog. Well, although feedback suggests that more readers access both poetry blogs these days some had emailed to request that I continue to poet any that I might think relevant. Thinking back to my closet years, I am haunted by the image of someone to whom the title of today's poem once fitted lie a glove. 😉

In trying to encourage readers around this mad, Mad, MAD world of ours to take heart in whatever life crisis they may be struggling to overcome, Covid-19 and variants notwithstanding, I have to confess that, at the same time, I am addressing my inner self and, yes, urging it to help me practice what I preach. This is why – and has always been why – poetry as creative therapy has invariably worked for me, even as a schoolboy in a school to which I was not best suited, made to move away from friends I had known since early years and struggling with being gay in an essentially homophobic society, as the UK was (predominantly) then.

Hopefully, some of my poems on this often-repeated theme encourage at least some readers to go into survival mode and (eventually) find an inner peace and happiness that is not only priceless, but meaningful to the individual in such a way that no one – even with the best of intentions - should feel entitled to advise on or judge according to their own standards; sadly, of course, the latter is only too common and too many of us fall for it every time.

So, thanks again. dear readers, for not only dropping by, but also being my inspiration, especially at the moment when I really need to lean on its friendly arm.

Take care, try to stay safe and well, and be sure to continue nurturing a positive-thinking mindset, especially in a crisis.

Hugs,

Roger

TATTERED REMAINS or THE FALL AND RISE OF MIND-BODY-SPIRIT

Worry, worry, worry,
all but getting the better of me,
confusion giving way
to apprehension just for trying
to make sense
of a society struggling to deal
with a global pandemic,
world leaders sending out mixed messages,
having to rely on their scientists

Scientists, in their turn
having to interpret emerging data
as it comes through,
though what it suggests we do
may well conflict
with political aims and policies
declared by this or that
Party in this or that race to convince society
to let it take overall responsibility

Responsibility, a sword
that’s double-edged, spur to ambition,
may well promote
peace and goodwill, at least until
Crisis rears its ugly head
opinions divided as to what to do,
put Party before Society
and bluff it out, or be seen to give priority
to a weary, stressed humanity?

Humanity, left battered
and feeling as if in tatters by pandemic
or governments or both,
yet as loath as ever to concede defeat,
reassembling its life forces
to rise above any growing despair,
restore a positive mindset,
let love and friendships rise above our pain
see us all start over again...

Time, not always on our side at times of need,
but kinder life forces, good friends indeed...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

[Note: Back with another poem soon, a lighter theme, I promise. 😉]

 

 

 

L-I-F-E; Mist, Mountains and Motivation

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

"Our life is what our thoughts make it." -Marcus Aurelius

Gay or straight, none of us are immune to stress, especially at the moment, as the new Omicron variant finds many of us feeling threatened and vulnerable; some, if not many LGBT folks, it will be a familiar journey. Not the same kind of gay-specific poem you will find in the blog archives, true, but I feel it has its place on both blogs. .

I wrote the poem below during my recovery from a nervous breakdown back in the late 1970's. Until now, reading it has always left me depressed as it recalls a period in my life I would much rather forget. Yesterday evening, though, I found myself in something of a perfect storm; computer crashing, TV failing to respond, a rising panic leaving me unable to quite get my thought processes - already in a mess due to years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer - into any kind of order.

After a kind friend had helped me send foe, Panic, into retreat over the telephone, I found myself needing to read the poem again. I recalled someone telling me it was "a load of hackneyed crap" at the time, which had done nothing for my fragile morale. 😉Reading it again now, after nearly two years of the world having to live with Covid-19 and now, another rapidly spreading variant, Omicron, it did not leave me feeling depressed at all. On the contrary, it reassured me that, like everyone else, I have the potential to try and rise above the stress that Covid-19 has imposed. 

Like all of you, I can but try, succeed or fail, do or die, and may mind-body-spirit see us through this stress, just as it did yours truly 40+ years ago. My choice, and I decided to GO for it; already, I could feel my panic retreating, no victory in sight, but the potential for it was there and my depleted energy levels all but restored. I feel much the same now, a positive-thinking mindset well and truly in place.

I rarely sleep well, but last night I slept better than I had for a long time...

L-I-F-E: MIST, MOUNTANS AND MOTIVATION

I creep up on you unawares
over periods of time as the going
shifts from gentle slope
to steep hill, until it starts to feel
like there’s a mountain
to climb, its peak shrouded in mist
as if acknowledging
a nagging fear that an enemy is near
if not already here...

At the peak, the scary mist
emanating half-forgotten faces
I can barely place,
whose names long since forgotten
in mists of time, no less
scary for reminding me who I am,
even yet could be,
left wondering why mind-body-spirit
gone eerily quiet...

Tempted, to leap into space
rather than risk descending, ending
all pretence at living,
better to die now – and prove what?
That it has counted for nothing,
this endless searching for something
and getting nowhere fast?
Suddenly, mind-body-spirit finds its voice,
“Do or die, your choice...”

A global challenge, Choice. Do we, nurture
or give up on our past-present-future...?

 Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

.

Hello again, folks, from London UK

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

"You can please some of the people some of the time, all of the people some of the time, but you can never please all of the people all of the time." - Abraham Lincoln

Hello again, folks, from London UK

Sorry, no poem again today, but soon...

While I have no Covid symptoms, I suspect the stress f the past 18 months or so is beginning taking its toll on ole Roger, just as it is on everyone else, worldwide. Yes, I feel a lot safer for having had my booster jab, but I am feeling very worn down by it all, as I suspect all of you are too. Writing poetry helps distract me and keep a sense of proportion, but inspiration is in short supply right now. Even so, I have high hopes for a poem that is edging its way into my mind and will hopefully find its way to expressing itself before too long...

As if climate change was all we had to contend with...!

So, how do we come through Covid and its variants and manage to maintain a positive-thinking mindset in the face of illness and death all around us?  Good question, no easy answers. I guess we can but do our best to support each other and try not to blow the short fuse many if not most of us have felt burning a gaping hole in our lives for far too long, if it hasn't already.

As regular readers know, I had a bad nervous breakdown in my mid-30's. partly for being gay and closet-bound, chiefly because I had no real sense of direction and was physically and mentally tired of drifting and feeling sorry for myself. Eventually, I saw sense and realised that whatever future I might have was down to me, no one else. At the same time, I needed help,  to be pointed in the right direction. I had to go to Australia to benefit from the wisdom of an old Aborigine and suffer the indignity of being repatriated (because I couldn't find a job) before I found my way in life, although it would be uphill for a few more years yet. Eventually, I found the self-confidence to leave the awful closet that certain  peers and family had made me feel I 'deserved 'while growing up in the 1950' and aim for the life that I wanted, not what other people might have or want. Selfish of me, perhaps, but we all have individual needs and have to recognise them, not be intimidated into being copycats.

With the support of some wonderful people, some hard work on my part and accepting that being gay is who I am and not only doesn't make me less of a human being, but also strengthened my resolve to help give the lie to the fake news and faux stereotypes that continue to haunt many corners of various societies and communities worldwide. Yes, I have said all this before, so why say it again? I guess the keyword is self-awareness; admitting to ourselves that we are a psychological mess is a battle half won already, victory in sigh; it is up to each and every one of us not to lose sight of just what 'victory' means - for us and for any family and friends closest to us, given that so much of what we do and say invariably affects them also.

So why am I raking up my pathetic past? Because our past-present-future is the sum of who we are; interdependent aspects of growing up, whoever and wherever we are in the world, and doing our best to learn from our mistakes as well as invariably having to pay for them, one way or another. Learning is strength, and strength is what will see us through the pandemic; not least, strength of will, purpose and character. We can, after all, only ever do our best; it will never be enough for some people, possibly even ourselves, but it is what keeps us on that learning curve, adapting to change as only mind-body-spirit can. 

We are all different, so our 'best' will invariably highlight our differences, differences that can  no more be measured in academic terms than the human spirit itself. Education and learning applies no less to the inner self than what appears visible to others in terms of what we may say and do; both words and actions are always vulnerable to misinterpretation, especially if we try to 'measure' them according to what we see as 'acceptable' rather then making an effort to understand what drives those whose 'best' bears little or no resemblance to our own.

The best advice my mother ever gave me was not only to try and take each day as it comes, but people too, no rushing to judgement as humankind is so often inclined. We can but try, do our best to give people the benefit of whatever reservations we might have in the course of any casual,  closer, even more intimate acquaintance. Alas, what drives the inner self will always remain something of a mystery, to ourselves as well as each other; the least we can do as we climb the various hills and mountains of this life is... yes, do our beat.

Well, that's all my ramblings for today and many thanks, as always for joining me here on the blog. I only hope it helps prevent some of you losing the proverbial plot as it helps me, if only for doing my best to keep from falling into a cesspit of Doubt, Fear and various indescribable Unknowns that so like to tease Mind-Body-Spirit at such times as a pandemic or any crisis when many if not most of us are at our most vulnerable.  

Religions and philosophies will drive and comfort their own follower; for the rest of us, we can only do our best to rise above the worst of things, even if it means having to go with the flow until we get to swim freestyle again...

Take care, everyone and remember that we can only do our best, whatever circumstances in which we find ourselves. or may yet find ourselves; it may not always seem enough, but it has to beat doing less or nothing, surely?

Bye for now, take care and let's all do our best to nurture a positive-thinking mindset...yes?

Hugs,

Roger

[Note; this post also appears on my general blog today.]

Hello from London, UK (Yes, it's the old codger-poet again!)

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

Hello again from London UK

No poem to day, but soon... if my messed-up thought processes can rise to the occasion.  My prostate cancer isn't painful, but...oh, I have such fond (if distant!) memories of getting a decent night's sleep!

Straight people, all ages, sometimes ask what it's like to be gay and "not in the swim of everyday life." A silly question, if only for assuming that LGBT folks are not in the swim of everyday life. We are, after all, human beings and, as such, as much a part of a common humanity as anyone else.

Sometimes people, all ages, also ask me how I cope, not just with the prostate cancer but with growing old in general. To be honest, I'm not sure, but on the whole I just do... I suspect it's down to Mind-Body-Spirit pulling together as good friends will during hard times. 😉 Body is likely o prove the weaker link at any moment in time, but especially after it has been around long enough for a good many years to leave their mark, but - more often than not - Mind and Spirit act as pacemakers, and Body feels encouraged to press on...

Ah, but what if Mind falls foul of the darker of human temptations and  gets too close to The Edge of it all, cannot find the will to draw back, prevent freefalling into that same darkness? It is at such times that the human Spirit comes into its own, encouraging native willpower to see the trees in the wood for the beautiful species they are, find a way through to a place of such potential reassurance as to offer a good chance of our being able to enjoy the flowers and birdsong that the inner ear is pleading with us to  hear and take heart...

That's all very well, but what if the Human Spirit, too, has lost its way, become confused, unable to see any wood for its damn trees that seem to be closing in on it, their motives unclear although an encroaching darkness s a sure threat, no comfort there, no sleep to rescue us from despair with sweet dreams and memories of how things were before... whatever. Mind may well  struggle to restore Spirit to its senses, Body too, but what chance of success, Spirit being by far the stronger of the trinity?

Ah, but let's not forget the power of  life forces from which Mind-Body-Spirit engages all the time, whether we are aware of it or not; the sheer Poetry of Love; family, friendship, images of  the natural world that have made such an impression on our sensibilities that we hear them calling to us through time and space . True, we may yet play deaf to the call and teeter over The Edge, but Mind-Body-Spirit, will inevitably pull together and do its best to persuade us otherwise... if we will but pause just a moment from  feeling sorry for ourselves, engaging with the politics of blame long enough to listen . Yes, finding our way through the woods may well be  a hard slog, maybe even impossible...BUT...worth a try, surely?

So much for life forces concerned only with our well-being, whether we choose to engage with them or not, but what of Death's lack of concern for our survival, able to  take us away from the Poetry of Life and Love at the blink of an eye? Well, there is a Poetry of Faith that may or may not be related to any religion that assures us of a place in an all-embracing Mind-Body-Spirit that defies even life itself, sure to carry us into the hearts of any with whom we have shared the Poetry of Love in whatever form it may have taken; it is called Remembrance or Personal Space (Memory) in it more intimate form; sense of spirituality denied no one. I suspect that Personal Space archives memories of it own that even dementia patients are able to take heart and comfort from. even though they may not be consciously aware of their evergreen presence within the deeper, inner self, able to select happy times and leave any bad times to fade like autumn leaves.; such, too is the Poetry pf Spirituality...

"Stuff and nonsense," do I hear some readers say? Possibly so, but there is a life-force within even  of  certain 'Stuff and 'Nonsense' wherein even the most troubled heart can find a degree of peace... if it chooses to look for it; easily enough done if we choose to freely and frankly engage with Mind-Body-Spirit whenever we find ourselves at the end of our tether... for whatever reason.

Take care, folks, stay safe and many thanks for dropping by,

Hugs,

Roger 

[Note: This post also appears on my general blog today, given that feedback suggests t significant number of LGBT readers are inclined to ignore it, for whatever reason. I can only emphasise, yet again, that poetry is open to everyone to explore, hopefully enjoy and reach whatever conclusion/s may apply within a mind-body-spirit whose individuality is unique to us all.] RT 

Two (poems) for the Price of One

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

After two years of learning to live with the Covid-19 pandemic, tempers are beginning to fray for whom some, who were living on The Edge even before the pandemic, pent-up feelings of frustration have sought release in a variety of ways, some violent. While there can be no excuse for violence against another, mental health issues should never be underestimated, especially in such times as we are living in now.

A healthy diet and regular exercise can help to alleviate stress,, of course, but self-help isn't always enough. There is help available for anyone less able to cope with stress, especially when it seems to be coming at them from all sides; we have to recognise the signs, though, and actively seek help; There is no shame whatever in feeling less and less able to cope with stress, whatever its source, but we need to recognise the signs and get help before it manifests itself in such a way or ways that we are likely to live to regret.

My failing to recognise the extent of the stress that living in a closet was making itself felt over a period of some 20 years, resulted in a nervous breakdown in my 30's. I had been too scared to ask for help,  had convinced myself I could cope... and could not have been more wrong. The help and support I received on a road to recovery that took me 4 to years of hard, mental slog to cover and start applying for jobs again... was a lifesaver.

Whether heterosexual or of an LGBT persuasion, we are, each and every one of us, only human and human nature, being as complex a life force as it is, needs a helping hand from time to time and mind-body-spirit needs must reach out and take it. Never easy... but what in life comes easy to any of us? We may think some people have an easy life,  but few of us are ever privy to what goes on behind closed doors...

THE ENEMY WITHIN

Love turned its back on me,
yet would not run away,
but left me nailed to a tree,
(couldn't even pray.)

Pain alone left me free
to fight another day;
Love, my sworn enemy,
nails in a god of clay

Better stay angry than grieve,
avid ties sure to rot,
scars worm on a sleeve,
to prove - what...?

Love, like war and peace,
down to each of us

Copyright R. N. Taber. 2004, 2021

FLOTSAM AND JETSAM

Love hadn't touched me
for many years;
I'd let myself drift freely
on a Sea of Tears

Chanced to find peace
(or did it find me?)
and sought to anchor us
in that same blue sea

Sea of Sadness, no more;
blue, only the sky;
soul once bruised and sore,
bright as a swallow's eye

Ashore at last, for homing in
on your heart's outline

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2021

[Note: This post also appears on my other poetry blog today; both poems first appeared in my collection, A Feeling for the Quickness of Time, Assembly Books, 2005.]