Either/Or, Life Force

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

Email feedback suggests that LGBT readers feel that non-specific LGBT poems do not belong on this blog so today’s entry will be the last. Poetry is for everyone so I would ask those readers to try my general poetry blog. At the same time, today's poem only embraces any LGBT readers  in the sense that the only choice facing us is whether or not to follow mind-body-spirit  be open about them; sexuality is not, of course, a choice, but in our genes. Meanwhile, I can only promise to try and write a new gay-specific poem, although inspiration has not been very forthcoming since my prostate cancer was diagnosed some years ago; I  lost interest in sex as a direct  result of subsequent, ongoing hormone therapy.  

Again, I can but refer these readers to the blog archives where poems written during my sexually active years appear; none are offensive or pornographic, but would be of little or no interest to the heterosexual reader.

Now, of all life forces confronting us a we journey through life, few if any are equal to that of choice; it can literally be a matter of life and death or, at the very least, a life changing experience.

Forewarned is forearmed, or so they say, that communal ‘they’ might well do better to stick to what it does best, making mountains out of molehills, than trying to dictate the workings of a mind-body-spirit inclined to put its trust in basic instinct.

A couple of days ago, I was warned by a specialist that a recurring ear complaint could be cancer of the ear and might require surgery. The possibility had been put to me before, but native instinct was already rejecting surgery, whatever the outcome. Normally I would not hesitate to take specialist advice, but sometimes our instincts should not be ignored, especially when they are as forceful as mine in this particular case. However, it still remains to be seen if I do have ear cancer, so...finger crossed.

Which is the more important, life or quality of life? Everyone will have their own answer to that, depending on all manner of circumstances; religion, too, will have its say. Whatever, the final decision remains ours or, if it so happens that we are not able to make it for ourselves, we can but trust those who know and love us best to see that the right choice is made on our behalf; the right choice for us, that is, not necessarily for them.]

As for yours truly, I’ve had a good run and, at 76 years old, have no intention of agreeing to surgery even if it is considered to be in my best interests. Meanwhile, I will continue to play events by ear as they unfold... no pun intended.

EITHER/ OR, LIFE FORCE

Though friendly clouds carry me
to the ends of the earth
whenever and wherever caught
such ever-changing
landscapes, matching humanity
mood for mood,
as we now engage, now beat a retreat
with its every heartbeat

It was a landscape of the womb
first installed in me
a mind-body-spirit reaching out
across a family history
of which soon I would be a part,
for good or ill...
I could not even guess, no thoughts yet
of engaging or retreat

Come into the world on a tide
of mixed feelings...
pain and joy, relief and such hope
as would carry me
into landscapes unknown...
across generations
drawing on and shaping the human heart
to destroy and/or create

Thus, a first take on that to-be-or-not-to-be
question for/ of humanity

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

[Note: The poem above also appears on my general blog today.] RT 

Home Sown

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

“In any moment in time, the best thing you can do is the right thing, the next best thing you can do is the wrong thing and the worst thing you can do is nothing.” – Theodore Roosevelt

After two years of having to cope with the stresses imposed on us all by the ever-present (but hopefully decreasing) threat of Covid-19, many of us are on a short fuse; frustration, anger, and confusion just three of the triggers to a flame that could see any one of us light the darn fuse any time...

No gay-specific poem again today, I'm afraid; you need to explore the blog archives for most of those,  As regular readers will know, inspiration of that nature rarely strikes since being diagnosed with prostate cancer some years ago..  

Tragically anyone may find themselves a target of verbal and/ or physical abuse, including those of us in the LGBT community especially, too, while stress levels in general remain high and inclined to feed on such darker aspects of human nature as its prejudices, not least homophobia, among others,. 

Somehow, we need to bear in mind that where there are negatives, there are invariably positives, even if the latter appear to be in short supply in any Here-a kinder future beckons us all as mind-body-spirit knows only too well as it encourages us to focus.

Focus but a blur? We can do a lot worse than take our cue from Earth Mother, promising any winter of the human heart yet more of the joys of spring... all in good time, rarely just when we need them most, although a promise is a promise, a lifeline in any crisis.

 Oh, and no, this isn’t just a poet imposing the gloss of pretty rhetoric on hard times, but the voce of personal experience. Testing times, indeed, certain darker life forces, but Mind-Body-Spirit can and will overcome them; we but need to focus on and believe in the power of positive thinking to see us through to happier times.

Yes, dear readers, I draw yet again on the old adage ‘Better late than never...”; trite, indeed, it may well sound, but so true...

HOME SOWN

One sunny wintry day,
messaging a not-too-distant coming
of another spring...
we’d take stroll, just you and I,
in leafless woods
where home birds would be singing
in its trees, a hint of buddings here and there
alleviating human despair

A long winter, it had been,
dragging us, protesting loud and clear,
to abyss, after abyss,
free-fall, but a (very) near miss,
leaning on each other,
holding hands, not least to get the better
of any doubts, nurture hopes, treating any fear
with tender loving care...

Apollo, always smiling through
the troubles of world and personal space,
messaging the hope
of kinder days yet, rescuing us
not least from the worst
of ourselves, giving misty-eyed hearts
cause to open wide, let in the world – and focus;
the rest, down to us...

In winter, be sure that any silver linings to be seen
are home sown...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

[Note: The above poem appears on both poetry blogs today.] RT

The Shared Heart

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

A married friend with children and also owns his own house once commented on my living alone and growing old in a council flat: ” A home without love in it isn’t a real home...” I see what he meant, but take issue with it all the same; just because a person may not have a partner, doesn’t mean their home is loveless.

As I have repeated many times on the blog, love comes in many shapes and forms, as do memories. The love people share can never be underestimated nor need the same people necessarily be married or even lovers; close friends may well bond in much the same way as lovers but for the absence of sex.

 Even in the absence of a close friend or relative, a person’s approach to the arts, gardening, politics or simply walking in the countryside, whether alone or in the company of others who share the same passions... the kind of love we have for and take from such life forces should not be underestimated either, especially by observers who only see  a person’s circumstances as they appear to the naked eye, invariably comparing them with their own, for better or worse. It is commonly said and universally true that appearances can be deceptive... in all manner of ways.

Yes, I am single, gay, live alone and have been estranged from my family for many years, but never let it be said that my home has no love in it or is any less of a home for my not having a lover to share it.

Love is more than a feeling; more, even, than those who feel it. Love is a ‘live passion, accessible to us al in whatever shapes and forms we choose - or which, perhaps, may well  have chosen us...?

THE SHARED HEART

The cares of our world,
they pass us by
whenever we make love,
you and I, on wings
of personal space left free
to soar higher, higher, even higher still
as any shared heart will

Assuming all the colours}
of a rainbow...
No harm done by taking them
for our own
in the heat of a passion
that makes poets of the mind-body-spirit
embracing a shared heart

Finally, having to surrender
to such thrills and spills
of reality to which, needs must,
humanity has been
called upon to answer, one way
or another, in the name of peace and quiet
as won by a shared heart

Despite the world’s inflicting
bruises and hurt,
ignoring even true lovers crying
“Enough, enough...!”
there is something about its capacity
for opening up, taking on and  reaching out
that inspires a shared heart

No finer, more enduring gift
can this life impart
than love enough to succour
the human heart,
whether it be people, places, pets...
memories to cherish, no matter whatever else
engages in the making of us

Let cynics consider immortality a pack of lies,
any shared heart will always argue otherwise 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021 

[This post-poem also appears on my general poetry blog today.] RT

 

 

 

Destination, By-and-By

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

Today's poem started out with me revising a poem to which I had given the title Strangers on a Train; the original written in 1994, it appeared on the blog once, but has since disappeared. However, as I progressed with the 'revision', the poem took on a new life of its own and became an altogether different poem to the one I was working on, ceasing to be a revised version at all.

While creating the poem, a conversation I had recently overheard in a supermarket  came to mind. Two woman were discussing a mutual friend who had apparently "been round the block a few times" and been married three times although  it appears the third time was to her first husband. "Can you believe it? the couple were asking, "It makes a mockery of marriage, love too..."

Could I believe it? Oh, yes, I could. Human nature is called upon to adapt to all kinds of changes in circumstances as time passes; some of us adapt to these changes, others don't, won't or can't. reason the need.

Any change in circumstances invariably results in changes in our behaviour, for better or worse; such changes mat well only be temporary, maybe not. Just as we need to adapt so, too, we ask that others will adapt accordingly, bear our new circumstances in mind and, hopefully, make allowances where  appropriate; it can sometimes  be a lot to ask of family, friends, work colleagues; some of whom will prove understanding and supportive while others will rush to judgement and  waste no time making their opinions known... 

My mother told me much the same thing once. When the boy, Roger, asked why that should be so, she simply sighed and said, "Such are the vagaries of life and human nature, dear..." to which my only response at the age of about 11 years was to ask what the word' 'vagaries' meant!  With hindsight, 60+ years on, I would have done better to have pursued the matter in hand, if only because it may well  have better prepared me for the many faces of adult life, warts 'n' all...

As regular readers will know, I was in my early 30's before I came out to everyone as a gay man after years of only partly feeling alive in a closet that, yes, was self-imposed, but many false and misleading stereotypes  - and the many, many people I knew taken in by them -  had, I thought, left me no choice.

Ah, but there is always a choice. The tragedy is that human nature is often inclined to make mountains of making right or wrong choices for the right or wrong reasons; a greater tragedy, perhaps, is that some of us are not good climbers... ?

DESTINATION, BY-AND-BY

Met someone on a train,
(years ago, seems but yesterday)
heading away from things,
places and people held dear,
nor less so for Fate
come knocking on my door
taking me for a fool, leading me on,
the more so for letting you in

I told myself it was a devil
on my shoulder, urging me bolder,
especially as I grew older,
felt a need to show the world
I’m not afraid of it,
playing deaf-blind to inner ear
and eye, inclined to re-invent the truth
about the vagaries of youth

So, we danced all night long
and the devil on my shoulder sang
“To hell with what’s right
or wrong... We have but one life,
let’s have some fun,
and where’s the harm in that?”
None,” said I, always up for the chance
of its embracing romance

Romance, indeed, would see us
rise, fall and rise again as life saw fit
to deal us blows, make-up kisses,
and also-rans, as many mixed feelings
as lively passions
keeping us together, leading us astray
our hearts leaning on and loving each other,
home truths at odds with one another

Ah, but inevitably, a dark winter
of the heart sure to miss out on spring,
never to watch Apollo
bring trees to leaf again, flowers to bloom,
smiles to human faces
for giving high hopes their head,
despite Fate’s taking liberties with any of us
defying even the Spirit of Togetherness

At a loss after our last farewell,

so caught the first train to Anywhere;
a stranger (oddly familiar)
caught my eye, listened to my life history,
empathised (without resorting
to platitudes) urging I learn to live,
even love again, the face in a train window
of that same You-Me-Us I’d got to know

Emerging from a long tunnel, Face and I
our Fate, promised to Apollo by-and-by

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

Hi folks, from London UK

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

" It is our collective and individual responsibility to preserve and tend to the environment in which we all live." - Dalai Lama XIV

 "I don't believe in collective guilt, but I do believe in collective responsibility.” - Audrey Hepburn

Hi Folks,

No poem today, but I am working on one. Mind you, inspiration is flagging at the moment as I am still having to deal with a bad cold. I have started to feel better over the last couple of days, but inspiration doesn't seem to have taken the hint...😉 However, I remain coronavirus-free, so am still able to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life... well, most of the time.😊

I have been able to get out and about locally just for basic shopping, but while the Omicron variant remains rampant, it is scary, so I try to go as early as I can to avoid crowds. 

 Now,  while wearing a mask won't necessarily stop anyone catching  Covid BUT it will stop a person spreading it. At 76 years old and living with prostate cancer, I am vulnerable, so hate it when people get too close to me in a queue, especially if they are not wearing a mask. Unfortunately, many stores no longer have the floor markings to show how people can remain at least two metres apart.

If someone has genuine medical reasons for not wearing a mask, fair enough, but it does not excuse that person getting too close to others in a queue. This happened to me only yesterday. I was queuing at a supermarket checkout.  I asked a Muslim woman queuing behind me with her grown-up daughter not to stand so close to me in the queue; neither were wearing face masks. The woman took no notice, just glared at me and I hear someone say "Racist." I was angry, but managed to keep my temper and moved away as soon as I had finished loading my shopping bag.

Now, I am not a racist and if someone chooses not to wear a mask for any reason, that is up to them BUT where their not wearing a mask potentially and directly affects me, I reserve the right to protest. It seems to be a fairly common problem everywhere. While Omicron continues to spread and fill hospitals, social distancing remains important for all of us, especially with regard to those people who are not wearing face masks. 

Given that data appears to show that the vast majority of people who are critically ill in hospitals are those who have not been been vaccinated, I can no more understand the reasoning behind not being vaccinated that not wearing a face mask in shops, on public transport and in crowded areas. Such is human nature, I suppose, sometimes wise and wonderful, sometimes plain stupid. 

Celebrities from all walks of life and ethnic backgrounds have appeared on television to persuade others to get vaccinated against Covid-19; it beggars belief that a significant percentage of  populations in various parts of the UK  have chosen to remain unvaccinated against the coronavirus. Data suggests that the majority of the unvaccinated are from ethnic minority backgrounds. (No, I am not being racist it is a fact.) 

Collective responsibility is for the good of everyone and rejects discrimination of all kinds except on grounds of an individual's bad or criminal behaviour.. . well, doesn't it?

Hopefully, the coronavirus will pass sooner rather than later, but all the while certain people, from all walks of life, refuse to be vaccinated against it, the likelihood remains that is likely to be later rather than sooner. Don't the rest of us deserve better than that?

Now, whoever and wherever you may be in the world, I can but wish you all safe, well, and finding the inner strength of mind-body-spirit to nurture a positive-thinking mindset, whatever your personal  circumstances; never easy, I know only too well just as I know, too, that it's always well worth the effort.

Take care, everyone, and do drop by again soon. Meanwhile, you may enjoy browsing the blog archives?

Hugs,

Roger 

[Note: This post also appears on my general (poetry) blog today.] RT

Sealed with a Kiss

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

Love does not discriminate, can be found in all walks of life and means different things to different people.  

Just as people may well change as time passes, so too may the love that binds them; it will either accept and adapt to any changes, or not. In the latter case, it does not entirely deaden the spirit of that love which first brought lovers together, but lets it pass into a dreamless sleep from which there is no waking, leaving both parties free to find love again if they can and so choose. I once knew a woman who married for a second time late in life; it was his second marriage too. Each loved both partners dearly. “They were both very different,” she once told me, “...but so was I, that second time, and love fitted us like a glove, just as it had for each of us the first time around...”

A loneliness of the heart can be filled in many ways, not least by finding that special someone who can help fulfil our needs, share our passions and generally be looking for much the same in a life companion as we are ourselves. That’s as near as I can get to defining ‘true’ love’ while not to say its various imitations are any the less meaningful or honest at any given moment in time.

Two people can enjoy sex with each other, for example, without wanting the kind of commitment that being ‘in love’ involves sooner or later. ‘Casual’ sex is a misnomer; there is nothing casual about two adults agreeing to sex simply because a mutual attraction also satisfies a deep-seated need, whether or not those needs are quite the same.

A reader asks if I have anyone in mind when I write love poems. Yes, I do, but only for having felt the power in all its shapes and forms, though having been ‘in love’ for only a short time. My potential partner was killed in a car accident long ago, before we’d had time to come out of our respective closets and tell friends and family we were in a relationship. I never met anyone again who saw me as a potential life partner.  Even so, as I deal with living alone on a physical level, I am never alone on an emotional one.

Loved-ones, living or passed away, whether family, friends or lovers... they never die, but pass into our consciousness and will continue loving and supporting us if we let them. Yes, it is a sentiment at which some may well scoff, but it works for me and can work for them too if they will only give it a go...

SEALED WITH A KISS

We met at a dance,
soon got into romancing
under a moon as misty
as a priest’s glass eye,
voices in the wind making us
laugh, making us cry

We wished on stars,
felt the world cease to turn,
pause, as if eager
to share our first kiss,
voices in the wind sighing
“Yes, yes, yes...”

So began, a fairy tale
that would see us hitching
rides across landscapes
of such joy and tears
as any lifetime sure to bring
true lovers

That first kiss, a blessing
as of Earth Mother
to Her children, lending us
a spirituality
to rise above the many failings
of Society

Through thick and thin,
up against walls
or dancing other nights away
wherever we may be,
we bonded with that very first kiss
into eternity

Come other nights, dawns,
wherever life chanced
to take us, be we awake or asleep
together or apart
a life force would always sustain us,
,our shared heart

If all good things must end,
memory grow dim
and time wing its way to eternity,
be sure of this;
true love lives on forever, once sealed
with a kiss

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

[Note: This poem is loosely based on an earlier poem that appears under the title ‘Hold the Dream’ in my collection First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002.; this post-poem also appears on my general poetry blog today.] RT

The House of Many Rooms

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

“On the whole, human beings want to be good, but not too good, and not quite all the time.” – George Orwell in All Art is Propaganda: Critical Essays

As the pandemic pursues its relentless course around the world, many of us are taking refuge in kinder, happier times, albeit often tailored to kinder, happier needs; there is a lot to be said for and against the selective power of Memory.

On the whole, though, I would suggest that, for many if not most of us, Memory draws on the finer points of mind-body-spirit, sweeping any darker aspects aside; some specks, though, will inevitably remain, like flaws of human nature best forgotten, but which have a nasty habit of resurfacing now and then, invariably in some unseemly manner as likely as not to cause offence, even where none intended.

Arguably, there are elements of that consciousness we call ‘Memory’ which are genetic, a part of us that has its roots in a family history that can be so persuasive as to plant itself in our subconscious, visit us in dreams so ‘real’ that we may well carry them as ‘memories’ which, in turn, may well have behavioural consequences, for better or worse.

A gay poet, I am, of course very much aware that many people believe sexuality is a lifestyle choice; it is, of course, in the genes if selective in whom it manifests itself.

THE HOUSE OF MANY ROOMS

I go there often, to an old house
of many rooms,
each one different, yet oddly familiar,
but nothing ever quite
the same, it seems, from one visit
to another

I love to explore the old house
of many rooms,
now playing games of hide-and-seek
with childhood friends,
now discovering home truths
and heartbreak

I often shelter in the old house
of many rooms,
seek comfort from cold, mist and rain,
or so I tell myself
despite an inner voice insisting
I’m on the run

Ghosts, too, in the old house
of many rooms
and only so many games we can play,
its doors opening
and closing on shadowy masks
of “live” clay

Dusty corners, in the old house
of many rooms,
I do my best to sweep clear and clean,
but always a residue
left behind that I’ll pretend
I’ve never seen

A guardian of sorts, the old house
of many rooms,
a store of life forces, good, bad and ugly,
reminders of a life
lived for love and its pitfalls;
such is humanity

Everyone knows an old house
of many rooms,
best approached with mixed expectations,
much of a muchness
the world over, despite universal
mutations

Many and varied are such houses
of many rooms,
nor bricks and mortar can we expect to see,
but a consciousness
of personal-posthumous-collective
family history

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

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

 

 

 

 

 

De Profundis OR Mind-Body-Spirit, On the Mend

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

“Everybody’s journey is individual. If you fall in love with a boy, you fall in love with a boy. The fact that many Americans consider it a disease says more about them than it does about homosexuality.” – James Baldwin

May 2010 saw the resignation of David Laws from the coalition government; it was very sad, for him personally and the country. The latter was told that he broke the rules regarding MP’s expenses in order to protect his privacy. Apparently, he had claimed rent for an apartment owned by a man with whom he had been in a relationship since 2001. He had not declared the relationship.

Now, I have suffered from depression all my life and poetry has been literally, a life-saver, as was the case when I came to write a first draft of today’s poem in 1983; I was feeling suicidal at the time.

The title -meaning ‘Out of the Depths’ is taken from a love letter written by Oscar Wilde while serving time in Reading Gaol.

I wasn’t in despair about being gay, having come to terms with that some years earlier, but I was feeling acutely disappointed in myself and my inability to get my life on an even keel. Eventually, I would do just that, and writing this poem helped considerably, but it would take a few more years yet and a troubled ocean to cross... in more ways than one...to Australia. Regular readers will know the tale so I won’t repeat it here. Suffice to say, I managed to rise above the worst and get my life in better shape.

While shopping yesterday, I overheard a group of people discussing how ‘scary’ the pandemic, and how they feel close to despair of life ever returning to the way it used to be before Covid-19 and its variants struck. I suspect thee are many such folks out there, among blog readers too, who feel much the same way. I (know I do, at times.)

My hope is that the poem may yet help you, as it did me, to rise above our fears and rediscover the Poetry of Love, Friendship and Motivation...

Yes, Oscar Wilde was gay, and anyone can find themselves in despair, for whatever reason, any time, any place, anywhere... so, can deny it or dare judge anyone else for being so driven, whatever his or her sexuality?

DE PROFUNDIS or MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, ON THE MEND

I lay floating an ocean of misery,
willing myself to drown,
while dolphins kept me company
and Apollo lingered on

Sharks, they kept a hungry distance,
an albatross winged by,
while waves lent a gentle cadence
to twilight’s lullaby

Went into freefall to the ocean floor,
and would have stayed,
but Apollo demanded of me more,
while the dolphins cried...

I let them have their way, if reluctantly,
screaming out for motivation,
searching the finest Poetry of Mortality
for the Threshold of Reason

No inner voice answered me, although
I strained to hear,
then twilight let a cloud pass through
and I found a poem there

Body of straw in that ocean of misery,
willing myself to drown,
I read an ode to life, love and a history
of peace, after wars hard won

It told, how few things in life come easy,
including death...
Such is the fickle nature of humanity
and ways of Godmother, Earth

I felt a poet’s passion take hold of me,
heard its voice in a seagull’s cry,
swimming me across an ocean of misery
to walk kinder shores, head high

I woke in tears still drenching my pillow,
began (slowly) to recover;
at chinks in the blinds, winks from Apollo,
reassuring me the worst was over

Copyright R.N. Taber, 2010; rev.2022

[Note: The poem’s title means Out of the Depths. An earlier version of the poem itself appears as the Dedication poem (to Oscar Wilde) in my collection, Tracking the Torchbearer, Assembly Books, 2012; it has been only slightly but significantly, revised. This post-poem also appears on my other poetry blog today. I only post poems of  particular interest to gay/ LGBT readers here as the the blog archives will confirm.] RT

My Canine Partner

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

again, not an LGBT-specific poem, but not irrelevant as I have met disabled LGBT folks from all walks of life and locations worldwide. I will try and post n gay-specific poem here one of these days, but please browse the archives for my earlier efforts. Struggling with prostate cancer since 2012 has meant I am not sexually active any more, and inspiration is not forthcoming, but I will try and find an LGBT-interest poem in my collections that has not appeared on the blogs...

Meanwhile...

Today's poem was written with a close friend's mother, Sheila, in mind; she was disabled in has meant I am  a car accident some years ago. Her first Assistant Dog, Juneau, sadly long since deceased and replaced by others, was trained by Canine Partners, a UK charity transforming the lives of people with disabilities by partnering them with highly trained assistant dogs. 

We all have our personal battles to fight, disabled people more than most. Assistant Dogs are skilled in helping their owners  confront and overcome all manner of obstacles, emotional as well as physical. Sheila is no exception, an  inspiration, even after a recent stroke, an epitome of the human spirit at its finest, as embraced by disabled people from all walks of life on a daily basis.

For more information about Canine Partners, visit their website; https://caninepartners.org.uk. For organizations outside the UK, see: https://assistancedogsinternational.org  (Support by way of donations always welcome and much appreciated.)

I have always admired the indomitable spirit of  disabled people everywhere, not least since joining them in a less but significant capacity following an accident in 2012. I was fortunate enough to recover sufficient mobility to get out and about with the aid of a walking stick. Even so, I used to walk miles and miss it terribly, especially as I cannot walk far these days, nor have been able to do so since. Even so, I try to emulate people like Sheila, truly an inspiration, and try my best to nurture  the kind of a positive thinking mindset that sees disabled people climb mountains every day of their lives.

MY CANINE PARTNER

While I'm just an ordinary person,

although I have a disability;

Juneau's trained to be one in a million

assisting, supporting, inspiring me

Juneau helps me participate fully 

in the business of everyday living;

people would rather get to know me

instead of looking away or staring

Juneau is my trusty canine partner,

together we tackle life's ups and downs;

we make a team like you'll find no other

on slopes where once only mountains 

Far more than assistant or friend to me, 

Juneau helps make my dreams reality

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2002, 2021

[This poem, dedicated to 'Disabled People Everywhere' first appears in my collection, On the Battlefields of Love, Assembly Books, 2010.]

See-Hear

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

Growing up gay, transgender or bisexual can be tough enough, even these days, in certain societies and communities worldwide, but growing up with hearing problems that are not properly addressed can make life a whole lot tougher still. I have met gay people with hearing problems who have not even had access to hearing aids because either the individual and/ or their or family has  failed to recognize and accept the problem. This having been my own experience since early childhood, I have no hesitation in publishing this post-poem on both poetry blogs today. For more LGBT-specific poems, though, do explore the blog archives. (Click beside the blog title in the top right hand corner of any post.)

Now, I am very forgetful these days, but a young reader ‘A V’ has emailed to ask if I would repeat what I appear to have once once said on the blog about my being partially deaf; in fact, it is ‘perceptive deafness’ – to use its proper name which has been the bane of my life since I contracted measles at the age of 4 years... 72 years ago! The reader is convinced he or she has the same problem, but it has yet to be identified/ confirmed. Hopefully, this can be done much sooner than it happened for me as I was not referred to an ENT (Ear Nose & Throat) hospital until my early 20’s.

Schooldays were a nightmare. Even now, it isn’t easy to get people to grasp and remember that perceptive deafness is a pitch deafness; the pitch of a person’s voice plays an important part in just how much I catch of what of someone is saying. Acoustics are also important; in one room I might hear someone perfectly well, but in another room, with different acoustics, I would struggle to hear the same person. Accents are always a problem for me, too, especially over the phone, as a result of which I have often been accused of shades of racism if (as I often do) I need to ask someone to speak a little slower and clearer.

I have lost count of how many times operators have hung up on me whenever they feel insulted and haven’t time to listen to my explanation; saying I have perceptive deafness is rarely acceptable as most people don’t understand what that entails. Settling for explaining that I am partially deaf often helps, but not always.

At home, there were all sorts of problems as well, especially with my father who would often address me and I wouldn’t hear, so he would shout at me and send me to my room. I would not understand why he was shouting and did not believe that I hadn’t heard him, so would invariably sulk, even respond rudely for the sheer injustice of it all – which, of course, would make the situation worse. He never hit me, my father, but nor did he ever accept that I had a hearing problem, and who can blame him as no one else really understood my problem either?

Mind you, even had I been blessed with normal hearing, my father and I would not have got along, not least because I never subscribed to the stereotypical template of what makes a boy tick; he had badly wanted a girl and I was never going to compensate for that.

In my mid-20’s I was prescribed hearing aids that proved to be a great help. Later, the ENT hospital in London obtained hearing aids from Germany for me that were especially tailored to perceptive deafness. I would continue to have problems, but these were less damaging to my life in general, although I would always have a problem with large groups, and still do. While there is no point in crying over spilt milk, I’ve often had cause to regret that I cannot give the social animal that I am, by nature, its head...

I should add that, up to a point, I subconsciously lip read, so I don't always fully understand anyone wearing a  mask, so... not easy these days when it is so important to wear one in shops, on public transport and busy streets. Oh, well, c'est la vie. 😉

Oh, well, we are who we are and must make the best of that rather than hanker to be otherwise or we will never find peace of mind, let alone be happy. I continue to nurture a positive-thinking mindset and keep looking on the bright(er) side of life.

Take care everyone, please do visit the blog again soon, and feel free to explore the archives any time,

Hugs,

Roger 

SEE-HEAR

A Blur of Silence all around,
closing in on me...
All I sought, yet so rarely found

A yearning for the true sound
of bird and bee...
A Blur of Silence all around

Oh, to leap life’s merry-go-round,
for a chance to be...
All I sought, yet so rarely found

It was you that ran me to ground
persistently...
A Blur of Silence all around

It’s now, I hear the sweetest sound
within me...
All I sought, yet so rarely found

On love, my heart can now expound
well and truly...
A Blur of Silence all around,
all I sought, yet so rarely found

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

[Note: An earlier version of this poem (a villanelle) appears as the Dedication poem ‘To Deaf and Hard of Hearing People Everywhere’ in my collection, First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002; rev. 2021]

 

 

 

Looking to the Future

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

Here’s wishing everyone as Happy (and Healthy) a New Year as mind-body-spirit can magic up for us... in the spirit of Togetherness...with more than a little help from loved ones and friends.

Hugs,

Roger

LOOKING TO THE FUTURE

So, we begin another year
as well as another day, looking ahead
with mixed feelings
of happiness and hope, yet dread too
for wondering whether or not
the coming months well see the end
of Covid-19, who may get
to re-enter the Arts and Politics of Life
and who will not...?

New Year celebrations muted
for many of us, both Delta and Omicron
variants of coronavirus
raging all around the world, striking fear
here, there, everywhere, in all
walks of life, opinions varying as to just
when and how science-led data
will help restore return us a greater security,
now... or never?

There is a sickness in the world
other than Covid-19, not least a beast
that is jealousy-prejudice-hate;
if we cannot ever be rid of the species
for all time, we can at least
try to educate and inform, let them know
who should know better
that, as a common humanity, we all need to get
our acts together

We can but trust mind--body-spirit
to make sense of the world, encourage us
in playing our part
to make the worst (far) better, to darkness
bring the lights of hope and love,
not play ourselves false or wish others ill,
nor let our differences divide us,
but listen to Reason and Conscience, let them
help us find Peace

 Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022 

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