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

Rewards

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

This poem first appeared on the blog in March 2009. It is repeated here today especially for ‘Ric’ and ‘Gemma’ who contacted me about the poem and to relate how they have tragically lost their respective partners during recent years.

Words can never say enough. I can but hope the poem speaks for itself and will help, in some small way, to ease the pain of losing a loved one.

If love has a season, it is an eternal springtime of the heart... for everyone, both sexes, all ages; nor does it (ever) discriminate.

So never wait for spring to feel love in the air, and give in to its persuasion.

REWARDS

In a spring breeze
I'll run my fingers through your hair,
the love in your eyes
my reason for being alive

In a summer twilight
I let your lips play a sweet love song
on my heartstrings
to remind me I’m still alive

In an autumn cascade
I can feel us falling like leaves of red
and gold, nature’s way
of preparing to stay alive

In a winter snowfall
I’m so wrapped up warm in your body,
the heat of our love
my reward for being alive

No season passes
when you don’t take me in your arms,
fill me with the joy
that’s risen from your grave

Some say love is not for gay dreamers,
but Earth Mother has other ideas

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008