Merry ‘Pantheistmas’

 

It’s clear from knowing Roger that he ascribed meaning to Christmas. Meaning beyond enjoying festive drinks and indulging in mince pies and other seasonal treats. Superficially, it seems odd that a Pantheist would celebrate, or even write poems about a Christian festival (albeit with pagan roots). And yet his poetry collections reveal an array of festive delights such as Messaging Christmas Day, Home For Christmas, Once Upon A Wiccan Yule…

Certainly Roger’s opinion on Christianity, and indeed on other monotheist religions, was more ‘charitable’ than my own. He recognised wisdom in some of the core teachings while rejecting those doctrinal absurdities. However, for both of us Christianity always seemed merely a comfort blanket for existential angst - whilst failing to explain or probe the universe’s deeper mysteries. From a historical perspective it too frequently inspired persecution over piety. From a scientific perspective it places fable over fact. And from a philosophical perspective it stifles ontological enquiry with dogma…

So why the Christmas poems…?!

I believe Roger drew inspiration from a universal symbolism echoed in the Christmas message. Particularly, the theme of hope-born-anew in the Nativity story. And that disparate collective brought together to celebrate the sacred nature of birth. Other Christmas tropes would have also touched him - such as people coming together in fellowship and song, and the joy of exchanging gifts with family and friends. Roger’s poetry explores an underlying sentiment abounding, like the joyous peel of church bells, in the collective consciousness. Although often juxtaposed against feelings of loneliness, even alienation.

Roger recognised an overarching Christmas message to explore transcendent qualities within; beneficence, goodwill, forgiveness, and reconciliation. To reconnect over our shared humanity, rather than obsess over tribal differences. More than anything he savoured that brief collective commitment to a spirit of agape - if tempered by a healthy dose of skepticism.

Season’s greetings to all and my best wishes for 2026.

Graham

P.S. My apologies to regular readers for the long absence. It’s neglectful of me although health issues and work pressures too often take precedence.

 

*  *  *  *

 

ANOTHER COUNTRY

 

You’ll come naked to my dreams

and breathe life into me,

repair my body at its fraying seams,

fill me with ecstasy

 

You’ll croon a love song in my ear,

play on the same guitar

I bought you for Christmas the year

we first kissed each other

 

You’ll make love to me, our passion

a bitter-sweet hymn to Creation,

though I must wake too soon, too soon,

at time’s cruel persuasion

 

Parted by forces fired by human bigotry,

reunited forever in love's 'other' country

 

R.N. Taber, 2020. From the collection Addressing the Art of Being Human
(To be published in eBook format, 2026)

Glimpse through a Veil

 

ROGER TABER - POETRY READING

21 March 2017 – Part 3

Note from Roger’s friend, Graham

Hello again, welcome. And sorry for my long absence.

I’m sharing the final recording segment of the trio. I haven’t included the usual visual narrative for much of this as it’s essentially a question and answer session. The audience pose some interesting questions, I think, and Roger’s answers are candid. It lifts the veil on his creative process to some extent – which may interest any aspiring wordsmiths out there. In hindsight, I should have recorded and filmed more of his performances*. Ah well, c’est la vie.

Here's the link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gygG7RTkbbw.

I intended to post this clip last autumn. Sadly, circumstances overtook me with the passing away of my mother. We were very close and I’m still not reconciled to her loss.

One of the tragic aspects of getting older is the inexorable loss of those we love. It can feel as if one’s life is being dismantled piece by piece. The grand aspirations we build – all brought to ruin. But even destruction has beauty. The fallen tree makes space for, and nurtures new life. In dissolution, rebirth.

Meanwhile… I’m presently taking time off work to cat sit for a workmate. I’m residing in Whitstable; a small seaside town on the Kent coast. It’s a bright spring day with gulls gliding effortlessly in pastel blue sky. Pebble beaches and groynes interweave and arch; diminishing into a hazy headland. Above the chorus of glittering waves; the wistful cries of the gulls. People gather. Dog walkers call to their excited pets. Couples muzzle one another dreamily. Children, exuberant with laughter. Back at the house my two feline friends greet me affectionately. They gather at empty food bowls mewing expectantly…

I’ve stayed here numerous times over the years. And Roger often used visit. He adored cats and they obviously sensed his affinity for them. Another attraction for him was nostalgia, I think. Roger attended university in the nearby city of Canterbury. As you might expect we enjoyed many a boozy afternoon on his daytrips here. With conversation sometimes descending into vulgarity. I recall his comment at The Neptune (a beachside pub)… about ‘Neptune lapping at the groynes’ (or groins!). A reference to the Roman god of the sea, of course.

I plan to revisit The Neptune later. And watch the sun setting over the oyster beds. No doubt I’ll raise a toast to those dearly departed. Loved ones who remain part of life’s rich landscape.

* * *

PART 3

Questions and Answers

Observations on the Human Nature of Cats

Ode to a Mermaid*


(CC) R. N. Taber 2017

* originally published here: A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...: Ode To A Mermaid.