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

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

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

.

Not (Quite) Anonymous

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

A  reader who dips into both poetry blogs has asked that I post the poem here as a close friend is having "...mental problems, probably related to all the safety precautions imposed during the pandemic..."

In some ways, this post-poem continue the debate on mental well-being that my poem 'Puzzles, Puzzlers and Halfway Houses' (see general poetry blog) hoped to open, not least because the pandemic will have taken its toll on the mental as well as physical well-being of many of us across the world; a subject which too few of us are willing to consider, let alone discuss. It may not be an LGBT-specific poem, but as I have said so often before, a poem is a poem, attempting to address a common humanity - of which we LGBT folks are a part, whatever anyone else may have to say... 

Now, we are all comprised of many parts, such is the complexity of most if not all human beings as we run a daily gamut of emotions, positives and negatives, often having to struggle to beat off the latter in order to give the former a clear run. Many of us succeed most of the time; sometimes, though, other considerations take their toll. In mind-body-spirit, it is mind that’s likely to start feeling the stress of everyday struggles the most, despite assurances from an innate spirit that all will be well; as for the human body, it so wants to believe all its spirit urges, but our minds may well have other ideas…

It is always worth the struggle, just to let the human spirit win through, get professional counselling if possible. Family and friends may well be supportive, but they are no more likely to understand the psychology behind what is happening to us than we are ourselves; nail the underlying reasons, and we stand a good chance of configuring solutions.

Sadly, for some of us, everyday life is never (quite) enough; we need to find a way to bridge the gap between the personae we present to the world and who we are. Most people make a good job of just that, more than simply tapping into the Happy-Ever-After ethic, but actually living it, despite the usual ups and downs of everyday life. Others pursue the dream, never (quite) make it, but remain content if not (quite) happy enough to settle for what they have. Yet others…well they remain caught between emotional rocks and hard places, but prefer to pretend otherwise, thereby succeeding in (almost) convincing themselves (and others) that all’s well in their personal space, so...no worries...!

Sharing an emotional as well as any other problem with a trusty confidante is always a good idea; it not only halves the burden in helping to bring it into focus, but openly acknowledging its very existence has to be a good start, too, in helping to find a solution if only because we are no longer having to muddle through on our own.

NOT (QUITE) ANONYMOUS

No one ever (quite) gets to know me,
although some may like to think they do,
for whatever it is I've let them see;
no one ever (quite) understands my reality,
though some may yet get to find
and follow clues left in prose and poetry;
no one ever (quite) gets close to me
sufficiently to hear just what the mind-body
takes for a sense of spirituality 

No one ever (quite) understands a self
in me that certain other selves do their best
to put down, even bully into agreeing
motions no joint mind-body-spirit inspires
only certain rogue elements reluctant
to ever accept any such majority decisions 
that exclude them from personal space,
has them force a different pace, leave its host
(that's me) to do its best...or worst 

No one ever (quite) gets to unearth in me
such roots as only ever sought to grow, flower
forever in a loved one’s own eternity;
no one ever (quite) gets a response from me
along lines of any mistakes I've made,
abandoned to shallow graves in living memory;
hopefully, some may come to think of me, 
once I am no more, see that any kinder parts
have as great a say in my history...

I am that life-force driving humanity’s choices
to lend mind-body-spirit its truer voices

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

Hello again, from London UK

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

Hello again, from London UK

No poem today, but I hope to have one ready for you fairly soon. I don't expect everyone to like every poem, of course, but I feel encouraged that many of you continue to stick with this struggling senior as, like many of you, I struggle with all the changes in everyday life that the coronavirus has imposed. 

A reader asks if I practise what I preach with regard to nurturing a positive mindset. Well, I do my best and manage to do so most of the time, but like all of us, I have good days and bad days.  I can only speak from the perspective of an old codger living alone; different people will have different problem. Partners will have each other to share any difficulties with, but in the kind of circumstances imposed on us by the coronavirus, tempers may well fray. Families will have encountered a different spectrum of problems altogether, especially those with young children. For many if not most  older children and young people, not being able to mix with friends and peers will have been a waking nightmare.

Now, living alone and growing old ain't easy at the best of times. Everything takes so much longer and I get tired so much more easily. Everyday tasks - like stripping a bed and turning a mattress - are a challenge; it takes me ages to replace a duvet cover now too.😊

I coped well with the first lockdown here in the UK, but the latter stages of the second were a nightmare. I often felt lonely, and scared too, a though the latter has more to do with the hormone therapy for my prostate cancer as it can have that effect on some people sometimes. An ear infection and mobility problems haven't helped. So, how do I cope with it all...? Well, better some days than others, that's for sure.😉 

I try to keep reminding myself that there are so many people in the world so much worse off than myself, some of whom I know personally. I tell myself that if they can cope, so can I. Writing up the blogs and posting poems when I can has been a godsend; it distracts me not only from my own problems, but the whole coronavirus scenario. I think everyone needs to find ways of distracting themselves from any personal problems anyway  (coronavirus or no coronavirus) whether it's pursuing a hobby or just watching a favourite video/ TV programme. Me, I avoid News programmes apart from catching up with the headlines. While I am interested and concerned about what else  is going on in the mad, mad world of ours...there is just so much a person can take when so much of it is so depressing.

Now, although lockdown restrictions are being lifted here in the UK, we still have to deal with the threat of a so-called Indian variant, already prevalent in parts. Yet again, all we can do is take care, and (yes!) nurture a positive thinking mindset. We won't always succeed, but just trying can make all the difference.

As I have said on past blogs, I honestly think a healthy diet is a huge help when it comes to dealing with stress.

At the end of the day, of course, we are all different and needs must find our own way through our own waking nightmares. As my mother used to say, though, we should never be afraid to ask for help, never think anyone will think the worse of us for doing so. Each of us, in our own way is, vulnerable; if counselling is not an option and there is no close friend on hand or at the end of a telephone, call The Samaritans. Even simply talking (or writing) about our worst fears can give us an entirely new perspective on them. If I had confided my problems with being a gay man so someone years earlier, I may well have avoided a nasty nervous breakdown in early 30's.

What else can I say for now but... good luck everyone, and bear in mind that most of the time it's down to each and every one of us to make our own luck... or not, as the case may be.

Take care, everyone, and many thanks for dropping by.

Hugs,

Roger

PS In the course of transferring about 1000 poems to a memory stick (so far unpublished except on the blogs) I have significantly revised more earlier poems that you will find in the blog archives. Do feel free to browse now and then, and I hope any revisions (including some titles) will meet with your approval...but won't be offended if they don't. 😉

[Note: This post also appears on my general blog today. Oh, and many, many thanks to the reader from Spain who emailed to say that he has enjoyed working his way through through my fiction blog "... as well as both poetry blogs." It has made my day,] RNT

Frontliners

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

All those in the front line of our war on Covid-19 deserve our thanks, respect and admiration. How they cope, day after day, defies belief. I have been retired for 10 years now, but like to think I would have played my part, although I suspect few of us know how we would react to certain circumstances until they are upon us and we are tested. If I ever had any doubts about that, they were confirmed when I realised I am gay at the age of fourteen; again, some years later, when I came out of my sad, lonely closet to face the world. Even so, as for so many of us - whatever our sexuality - it was but one of many battles that would see me in the front line in the passing of time; it is one reason I have never understood bigotry, since we are all but human after all.

My father and I did not get along. From childhood, he never believed I had a hearing problem. More  than once, he would send me to my room for ‘ignoring’ him when I genuinely hadn’t known he was talking to me. Needless to say, this did nothing to improve our relationship. “He’s weak!” I heard him shout at my mother once, “He’s weak, that’s his trouble. Always got his head stuck in a book, it’s high time he started acting like a boy instead of a bloody pansy.”

Later, I asked my mother, “Am I weak?” Her reply was typical of her grasp of human nature. “None of us really know our true strengths and weaknesses,” she said, “… until they and we are tested. Even then,” she sighed, “… it’s invariably left to others to judge and we alone ourselves to know. It’s called life,” she added with a rueful smile. “But just you go to sleep and put it out of your mind…” She turned off the lamp I had been reading by, and I could have sworn I heard her say, “…while you still can.”

I suspect we are tested at all stages in our lives although we may not realise it at the time. As we grow up and grow older, though, we do get to know ourselves, although how much is fact and how much is wishful thinking … that’s for us to take on board, reject or work through for ourselves, hopefully with more than a little help from loved-ones and friends.

Whatever our battles, we are the front line, win some, lose some…

FRONTLINERS 

War or peace,
whatever the cause in us demanding
we fight,
at the end of the day, it needs to be
for the better,
if only to keep us safe , drive any enemy
to rout 

Early years,
learning to talk, walks, laugh and play,
choose friends
come to recognize certain aspects
of behaviour…
as in where our empathising with it begins
and ends 

Schooldays,
inviting us to see how competition
demands
targets our strengths and weaknesses, requires
we stand up
for its rights and wrongs or go to ground, head
in hands 

Come, youth
to have its day, before such times ahead
as we know
will test us, even cut us down before any gain
or losses
can take us where we may (or not) have chosen
to go 

Middle years,
basking in sunny climes or sheltering
from storms
beyond anticipation for our underestimating
how maturity
may yet see us bested by any variety of tempting
life forms 

Old age,
a final reckoning of sorts, for the better
or worse
as we harvest all mind-body-spirit has incited us
to be, urging us
do whatever may yet see all or some of our parts rest
in peace

 “Advance, friend or foe,” finding out wherever we go,
ourselves to know 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shadows OR Points or View, Shades of Meaning

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

Hi, World, 

Well, here we go again, 

Another day of waking up to the Covid-19 variant and safety regulations we are all meant to follow, but some don’t so many of us are fearful of going out and about locally even for such essential everyday items as food. 

Overcoming fear, in any context, is never easy. I feel physically sick sometimes once I close the front door behind me and step out into the street. At 75, I have been fortunate enough to have my first vaccination, but only a few days ago so it will take a little while yet to kick in. Whatever, no room for complacency I will need to follow lockdown safety regulations, probably for months. Oh, well, needs must… and we can all but do our bit to help ease the awful stress faced by every key worker, especially those in hospitals and care homes, but unsung heroes too like those who collect our waste and clean our streets. 

Meanwhile, there is an ignorant, selfish minority who persist in protesting about their human rights being undermined and/or that Covid-19 is some kind of conspiracy. We can only ignore them, and get on with our own lives as best (and safely) as we can. 

Me, I feel a greater empathy with Humpty Dumpty every day, falling apart, and surrounded by pieces I haven’t a clue how to start putting together again. Time will tell, I guess. 

In the meantime, there is another day to get through on my own here, so I had better get on and make breakfast … having been awake long enough now to get a tighter grip on things, start re-energising myself by looking on the bright(er) side of life, and anticipating a kinder springtime of mind-body-spirit… 

Readers continue to ask how I can talk about the latter, yet separate it from any religious faith. 

As I have said more than once on the blog, and will probably say again, there is more to any human being than meets the eye, including his or her sexuality; the human spirit is as much a part of us if not more so, frim birth to death and in remembrance; one reason why I find the refusal of world religions recognise this and welcome LGBT people, instead of condemning us, as nothing short of hypocritical. Sexuality is, after all, a human condition, not a lifestyle choice, and even if it were, whatever happened to freedom of choice? 

As for a sense of spirituality, I suspect it embraces each and every one of us in various ways, religion or no religion; how we choose to use it, well, that is only human.

SHADOWS or POINTS OF VIEW, SHADES OF MEANING 

Birds of the air,
engaging with a friendly tree,
no less so for its want
of welcome shelter from wintry
elements 

Human beings,
engaging with creative therapy
by way of sheltering
from a coronavirus making what
it will of u 

Grey squirrels,
chasing shadows where grass
awaits its season
and the earth makes what it will
of winter 

All humanity,
made to chase its own shadow
for home truths
surfacing where common need
prevailing 

Yet, still it turns,
this multicultural world of ours,
no less so for its want
of welcome shelter from wintry
elements 

Neither sun by day,
nor moon by night (quite) shining
light enough
on such rights and wrongs as prefer
shadows 

Shadows, playing
much the same parts across history
in bringing
such common elements of humanity
together 

Even so, no shadow
hanging over us can resist such shades
of life and love
as comprise the (far) better, kinder part
of mind-body-spirit 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

[Note; This post-poem also appears on myggeneral poetry blog today.] RT

Another Open Letter to Readers

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

Dear Readers,

No poem today, I’m afraid, as I am very unwell. I am still coronavirus-free, though, so hope to be feeling better soon. Meanwhile, I have at least started work on a new poem. 

Creative therapy of any kind is a welcome distraction these days, or course, but it also helps keep my thought processes well-oiled given that 10 years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer continues to put a spanner in those particular works.😉

Meanwhile, thank goodness vaccines are on the way!

As well as an appointment at the Ear Hospital this week, I also need a PSA test prior to a telephone appointment with my prostate cancer consultant next week. AS I have said before, travelling on public transport, especially the Underground, is more than a little scary now as there are always a few people who do not wear their masks to cover both nose and mouth. Oh well, I can but place myself in the hands of Fate; it cannot do a worse job than certain politicians.

Sometimes, I wake up in the morning and dread having to get up and see my way through another days of the Covid-19 variant which is spreading rapidly across the UK. While I fully support a new lockdown, I am not the only one who thinks it should have come sooner.

To those among us who have lost loved ones to the coronavirus, I can but remind them that love never dies, it stays in the heart forever and will continue to support mind-body-spirit, whatever... No, it's not the same, but something from which I have always taken much comfort over the years... and, yes, I can still hear loved ones whispering in my ear from time to time, and encouraging me to perk up and stay positive, especially when I am feeling poorly... and/or in low spirits.😉

Be kind to one another,

Back soon, hopefully,

Hugs,

Roger

PS Some of you may enjoy accessing the blog archives, found on the right hand side of any blog page.

High Hopes OR Personal Space (All Rights Reserved)

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

A new year dawns, and the world gives a huge sigh of relief just to see an end in sight after what has been a 2020 that will never be forgotten by any of us fortunate enough to count ourselves among its survivors. Yet, at what cost?  The physical, mental and economic strain experienced by everyone, in whatever shape or form is likely to make itself felt for years to come. Nor are we out of harm’s way yet, of course, regarding the coronavirus itself. Even so, there is a light enough at the end of the tunnel; we can but follow it, and trust we will survive long enough to see it set us free to move on… the awful events of 2020 notwithstanding. 

“The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on: nor all thy piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.” - Omar Khayyam 

Here’s wishing everyone a Happier New Year, not least for Covid-19 being all but consigned to history and vaccinations on the way… 

Hugs, 

Roger 

HIGH HOPES or PERSONAL SPACE (ALL RIGHTS RESERVED)

 New year, new start
for those of us who have survived
a coronavirus
attacking the world on all sides
with a vengeance
throughout 2020, and continuing
to cause pain and grief,
only emergency shots in the arm helping
to keep higher hopes alive 

We can but struggle on
in a seemingly alien environment
with access to family
and friends, even neighbours,
limited as never before,
while many among the elderly
and those living alone
waiting on phone calls to help compensate
for a lack of computer skills 

Humanity, likely to escape
annihilation by the skin of its teeth
although, for how long
any lessons learned yet to be seen,
as human nature
resumes a sense of normality;
daggers (still) drawn
without or within this society, that community,
injurious fingers moving on 

Though humanity tell and retell its history as it may,
it’s (each) human heart will have the final say…

Copyright R. N. Taber
[January 1^st 2021]

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

 

 

 

 

Crisis at Christmas OR Love is the Key

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

For many readers, it will not be a very happy Christmas Day this year, and for most of us it will be a Christmas break like no other for all the wrong reasons. Even so, there are vaccines on the way so still reason to think positive and look forward to better times in 2021.

Here's my favourite ghosts (from happier times) and I  wishing you all love and peace always, and many thanks for dropping by the blog.

Hugs,

Roger

CRISIS AT CHRISTMAS or LOVE IS THE KEY

Christmas, in a year
with many a tear in many an eye 
for a year that’s seen
so much grief, anger and pain,
yet, also a sense
of being a common humanity
in a world inclined
to view certain differences as weaknesses,
due to its own short sightedness

In a year that has seen
the devastating effects of Covid-19
on world economies
and personal lives, a sense of unity
attempts to rise
above that grief, anger and pain
all but dominating
everyday life, whoever and wherever we are,
any differences notwithstanding 

In times of crisis, people
will often pull together, bridging chasms
between old enemies,
suggesting bigots have second thoughts
asking of religions
that they practise what they preach
in so far as matching
deeds to fine words, embracing peace and love
without either caveat or favour 

For many, Christmas,
among other celebrations, but reinforce
an overwhelming
sense of loss, regret, loneliness, and losing out
in such everyday move
as humanity makes, potentially this way,
potentially that…
now, raising hopes, now (invariably) taking credit
for (inevitably) losing out to ‘Fate’

So, what can we do,
who are left to pick ourselves up, start over?
For a start, never forget
there are such people in the world who care
about others,
will lend a helping hand and see us through
to a kinder end,
while it’s a positive mindset (no weakness) that asks
for help, more likely to find happiness 

There will always be
the good-bad in this world, the happy-sad too;
we can but try
to rise above it all (down to me, down to you)
even compensate
for such evils as humankind may yet do,
let love be the key
to  mind-body-spirit left free to live, let live and let die
if (still) begging the question, "why…?"

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

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

(Another) Window on Christmas

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

A reader wonders why the Government here are prepared to put people at risk by relaxing Covid-19 safety regulations for Christmas, but not other religious celebrations that have come and gone since the pandemic began. We are, he reminds us, a multicultural society, after all.  A good point, I think, although I do not subscribe to any religion myself other than a feeling for Pantheism.. 

Whatever, we are a common humanity, after all.

Another reader asks for " … at least one more Christmas poem to see us through what may well be a very difficult time for many of us this year.” 

Hopefully, today’s poem may go some way towards satisfying both readers.

Take care, everyone,

Hugs, 

Roger

(ANOTHER) WINDOW ON CHRISTMAS

It’s redbreast’s song bursts on my ears
as at my window I watch snowflakes fall,
missing you so, wishing we could share
such gifts of love as meant for one and all 

In the distance, I can hear bells bringing
tidings meant to fill sad hearts with cheer,
spread thoughts of peace and goodwill
where much of the world left living in fear 

Caught in a window’s wintry reflection,
I watch tearstained faces reach for the sky,
weepy eyes smiling for a moment divine,
as Apollo drops by and blesses us, you and I 

This mind-body-spirit uniting with yours,
though Covid-19 bent on keeping us apart;
love, it makes us one, and all the stronger,
for distance means little to the human heart 

It’s Love’s song, bursting Christmas at its seams
with humanity's dearest desires and dreams…

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2020

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

Christmas 2020 OR Love Rules ok

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

Hi folks, 

Yes, I’m back, still feeling poorly, but managed to write a poem. . 

Not one for sending Christmas cards, I have nevertheless written many a poem in lieu, by way of letting friends know I am thinking of them, blog readers too. 

Coming up with a poem this year has not been easy, its having been the worst many, if not most of us have ever had to endure. Hopefully, it captures something of that love and peace which Christmas celebrates, whether or not in the name of Jesus Christ, albeit I suspect he would approve. For me, Jesus is an outstanding historical figure for whom I have the greatest respect, but have never been able to come to grips with the idea of a personified God. I share the view of the pantheists of old, that God is nature rather than its creator. 

While I respect all world religions, we must simply agree to differ. We are a diverse, common humanity whose differences don't make us different, just human. 

Now that various vaccines are already or potentially on their way, I feel better able to wish you all a Happy Christmas, Covid-19 and Brexit notwithstanding. 

Hugs, 

Roger 

CHRISTMAS 2020 or LOVE RULES OK 

Christmas 2020,
will be as never before,
no carol singers
at anyone’s front door
earning extra pocket money,
hoping for more 

Christmas 2020,
a more subdued occasion,
less decoration
to mark its celebration
with fewer family or friends
able to join in 

Christmas 2020,
will see a relaxing of rules
across the UK
regarding a coronavirus
with no respect for human life
(or Christmas) 

Christmas 2020,
seeing last-ditch Brexit talks
on tenterhooks
lest they should fail,
EU and UK last seen dangling
from the same nail

 Christmas 2020,
empty chairs at its grand feast,
in remembrance
of favourite ghosts
to whom we’ll raise our glasses
and give toasts 

Christmas 2020,
whatever our religion (or none)
we can but agree
it’s l-o-v-e rules OK
in offering gifts of comfort and joy,
come what may

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

[Note: For those of you who visit both poetry blogs, this post-poem will also appear on mygeneral gay  blog today.]

Looking on the Bright(er) Side

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

We are all waking to another day of Covid-19, although hopeful that any approved vaccine will reach us and loved ones in time,before mortality strikes any devastating blow. Should it come too late, as for some of us it inevitably will, let our tears be joy as well as grief, celebrating a life and our having been a part of it.

LOOKING ON THE BRIGHT(ER) SIDE

Seagulls crying,
tide coming in fast, anxious
to offer consolation 

Breaks in clouds,
a sunbeam breaking through,
hinting at a kinder day 

A little light rain
as if to refresh a troubled Earth,
feed its hopes for spring 

Skylarks, flocking
to new habitats, but continuing
sing us into wintry dawns 

Humanity, waking
to yet another day of living fearful
of Covid-19 coronavirus 

Tears, for loved one
spirited away on wings of mortality
to nests of remembrance 

Nature, an example
to us all in persevering, keep looking
on the bright(er) side

 Copyright R. N. Taber, 2020

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

A Covid Christmas

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

Here in the UK and many homes around the world, people will be wondering how best to spend Christmas, where we should risk seeing family and friends, much as we would love to, while Covid-19 remains active.

No matter how we choose to celebrate Christmas, whether for religious reasons, being with family and friends, or both, it is, like any religious festival, a time for taking stock of any discrepancies between where we are in life and where we hoped or expected to be. 

Religion may well help us find answers, while many who follow another religion (or none at all) invariably face the same questions. 

Most of us are left to find our own answers in our own way, whether guided by Divine inspiration or not. Regular readers may recall the old aborigine I met in Australia; in so far as he pointed me in a direction I had always wanted to follow, but which had been closed to me for various reasons, he was a life-saver. It meant returning to the UK and many things (and people) I had been running away from, but, in time, I would find such peace of mind as I’d felt impossible since leaving school barely five years earlier. 

“I feel so alone,” I remember whingeing. 

“Well, you are not alone now,” he chuckled, “… and two heads are better than one, so let’s see if we can’t set you on the right track, yeah?” I nodded, and he did.  

Every Christmas, I drink a toast to that old man. He is probably long dead by now, but his presence is as real to me as it was all those years ago. That is the wonderful magic of memory; no one ever dies who has been meaningful in our lives. Better still, it allows us to pick and choose, reject unwelcome guests and join together with those who have brought light into our lives.

Many of us will be alone this Christmas, but the Gates of Memory are open 24/7. Besides, there is also telephone. zoom and other technologies to help us out as and when ….

 A COVID CHRISTMAS 

Outside, world looking grey
even where sounds of children’s
laughter breaking through
weary faces and muted voices,
reliving such yesteryears
as mind and spirit better able
to redeem a host
more anxious to explore than exploit
Earth Mother 

Outside, a diversity of masks,
driving home the necessity to care
as much for the well-being
of others as any twinned selves
struggling to put caution
before desire rather than throw
either to the wind …
if only to be seen doing the right thing
by humankind 

Inside, a diversity of humanity
making its way down Memory Lane
among fairy lights
and Christmas trees, choir voices
singing songs of praise,
families and friends making merry,
putting aside any misery,
as only such togetherness has succeeded
in all its history 

Outside, Covid-19 hell bent on having a say;
inside, Christmas continues to have its way

Copyright R.N. Taber 2020

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

Nature, Mentor

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

 Another new poem today if only by way of my making (some) progress in warding off depression; it is an old enemy of mine, depression, and poetry has always proven more effective that any antidepressant. 

 Hopefully, dear readers, the end product will be of some comfort to you during these hard times as writing it has been for me.

 NATURE, MENTOR

A fat thrush flew to my window sill
from a branch of an old oak tree,
one of several guardians keeping watch
over house and garden, peered at me
and cocked its head to one side, possibly
curious about its reflection in the glass
or perhaps wondering why a human being
slumped in an armchair doesn’t spread wings,
take to the air, shrug off dull care 

The thrush flew off, and I lost count
of leaves torn away from the tree
by an autumnal breeze letting the world
know its intent to unsettle nature
and human nature simply because it can,
no other reason than that, and I’m left
envying a thrush for being able to go about
daily life in much the same way as it always has
and always will, no worries 

When next I looked, a squirrel squinted
back at me as if amazed that anyone
would prefer to slump in an old armchair
on a fresh, sunny day, winter on its way,
all the greater reason to be up and about,
nature not ready to go to sleep just yet,
swallows flown south and tortoises dozing
but Earth Mother insists we must put a show on,
not a full cast, better than none 

The tree, it returned squirrel to its heart
with a leap and a bound, out of sight
if not out of mind, and I fancy I can hear
Apollo’s lyre, urging me to get on with life,
no matter a coronavirus imposing chaos,
take my cue from nature, carry on regardless;
though it may sometimes be in short supply,
there’s joy to be had in the simplest, everyday task,
that cannot be hid behind a mask 

Wherever Covid-19 would strike humanity down,
be sure its mind-body-spirit will see us rise again

Copyright R. N. Taber
(October 21^st 2020) 

Take care and stay safe, folks,

Hugs, 

Roger

[Note: For those readers who dip into both blogs, this poem also appears on my gay-interest poetry blog today.]

Lockdown, Loosening Up

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

A new poem today inspired by a true-life story as sent in by Jay and Shakil.

If little else of a positive nature, Covid-19 had made many if not most of us realise that we may not have as much time left as we think so … all the more reason to get real about ourselves and stop playing mind games.Time, too, to think about what we really want and need from life, regardless of any socio-cultural-religious agenda-dogma imposed on us since birth; let the human spirit have its say, and trust it to help us make our own decisions without being made to feel threatened by some existential hell for going against established 'norms'.

If sharing our life with someone or living our lives in a way that does not correspond with how family and friends think we should, for whatever reason, offends them to the extent they shun us, that’s their loss; often, rejection is more of an impulsive, shock reaction, but where there is love, and it is strong, it will invariably make us see sense in so far as what our loved ones do is who they are, and it is who they are - family or friend – that remains whom we love, no matter what.

Rarely easy, but only a heartbeat away, and the heart heeds must have its say ... whether we choose to listen or not.

Sadly, love is not always as strong a life force as we would have it, and the human heart may well encounter  human opposition; we can but give the latter time to get used to the idea that the former has human rights too.

Meanwhile, I’m sure we all wish Jay and Shakil every happiness, Covid-19 notwithstanding.

LOCKDOWN, LOOSENING UP

Workmates on furlough,

we could but say “Hello” knocking elbows

in a bar, coronavirus demanding

no more or less of us, while something

about his smile

sending tremors down my spine

the way it never had before,

both of us experiencing the same,

afraid to say more

We talked about work,

wondering how things would work out

for us, once our furlough done,

trying to stay positive about returning

to how things once were

before the pandemic took the world

by the scruff of its neck,

demanding we reinvent ourselves,

make or break

Empathy bringing us closer

than we had ever been as office colleagues,

it slowly metamorphosed

into emotions we had fought off for years,

now close to surrendering,

weary of sad, lonely years threatening

an even worse fate

than Covid-19 killing us off, so… time

to Come Out?

Several drinks later, we parted in pouring rain,

a dead cert we'd be together again soon ...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

(London, UK July 19th)

Getting the Better of Beasties under the Bed

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

Today’s poem last appeared on the blog in 2013, and caught my eye as I continue sorting poems for a new collection, hopefully later this year; it will not include most poems posted during the pandemic as I have many other  unpublished poems waiting in the wings, but they are already earmarked for yet another collection so long as I have time to collate it before the Grim Reaper comes calling. Oh, and, yes it will include gay-interest poems as do all my collections in spite of potential editors losing interest because they see gay-interest poetry as a retail risk. wry bardic grin

Many thanks to those of you who get in touch from time to time and ask about my prostate cancer.  In 2011, after being diagnosed, I opted for radiotherapy, but was unable to hold my water prior to treatment so began hormone therapy instead. I have injections of Zoladex about every 18 months and … so far, so good. I feel fine. Yes, I get tired, but that is partly because I need to get up at least several times during night for a pee so have all but forgotten how it is to get a really good night’s sleep. My memory is also affected, but I will be 75 later this year so no surprises there anyway, and writing poetry as well as doing word puzzles helps keep to thought processes in reasonably good shape. On the whole, no complaints. I have been living with prostate cancer for 9+ years now, and suspect I may well have survived the Covid-19 coronavirus back in early January when I had the symptoms but put it down to a very bad cold so just stayed indoors. Yes, I am stressed by the pandemic and its implications for all of us, but I have good reason to count my blessings.

Meanwhile...

Now, like many very young children, I used to force myself to look under the bed and in any cupboards to reassure myself there was no Beastie there waiting to pounce on me once I fell asleep.

Well, you will be pleased to know I no longer do that particular security check before settling down to sleep.  Even so, you will realise there is a Beastie of sorts that causes me some concern now and then. Yes, hormone therapy is managing my prostate cancer so far, but I am very much aware that the cancer is there inside me. Most of the time, I forget about it. Now and then, though, especially at night, I find its presence more than a shade unnerving so I do what I used to do as a child, and work a magic spell. I think of nice things, nice people, nice places, until my head is full of all things NICE that's sure to keep the nasty Beastie away. It a trick that also saw me through years of fearing family and peers discovering I am gay, not to mention falling victim to several gay-bashing episodes (called queer-bashing when I was a young man) should I let my guard down.

The trick has never failed me, and if I don’t get a good night’s sleep sometimes it’s invariably down to those calls of nature better answered than ignored. The same magic has seen me through the pandemic so far, too, so you might want to try it if you haven’t already; what often works for children can work just as well for adults too.

GETTING THE BETTER OF BEASTIES UNDER THE BED

There’s was a Beastie

under my bed, eyes glowing red

like a devil

in the fires of Hell,

willing me

to descend, put an end

to all living artifice,

make the ultimate sacrifice,

set the body free

(in other words, surrender

to the Beastie ?)

There was a Beastie

under my bed, looking for a way

to get into my head

and indulge its penchant

for mind games,

challenge me to defy

a necessary evil

or demand I answer why

I’ll not cave in

to the inevitable, dare me

do battle

There was a Beastie

under my bed; like a cancer

it has spread

news of its purpose

to my brain,

but there it was put to rout

(if not without a fight)

for Brain knows every trick

every Book (and more)

exposing Beasties sixk intentions

to a higher power

There was a Beastie

under my bed, face a puffy red

as it returns

to where there still burns

a welcome

for its kind if likely

to meet its match

in the human spirit, burning

more brightly than some

devilish hearth in the bowels

of metaphor

No Beastie under my bed,

for its recognising a lost cause;

though it feed on my body,

no true or lasting gratification

to be had where flesh

but a coat of many colours

lent by Earth Mother

to distinguish friend from foe

until our return

to Her womb, the likes of Beastie

denied entry

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; 2020

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

L-I-F-E, Seasons in Time and (Personal) Space

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

Several LGBT readers have emailed to ask why I did not post the poem below on both blogs when it appeared on my general poetry blog yesterday.  Well, in the past, feedback has strongly suggested that many if not most LGBT readers only visit the gay poetry blog because they can directly relate to it.. In the past, I have published gay-interest poems on my general blog, but this has not proven very popular with anyone. A poem is a poem is a poems, of course just as a person is a person is a person .... whatever their socio-cultural-religious or sexual persuasion so ... hope you enjoy the poem.

Another  reader writes, how can you write poetry when the world is being devastated and left bereft by COVID-19? I am not sure if this is meant as criticism or compliment so will take it as both. Well, it isn’t easy, even at the best of times, to compose a poem that attempts to strike a balance between a celebration of nature and human nature while also acknowledging their flaws. 

Given that the Here-and-Now in the shape of COVID-19 is probably among the worst of times ever for many of us, the task has felt all but Herculean; it has taken several days of writing and rewriting to arrive at the poem below. Hopefully, most readers will get a sense of the spirit of optimism in which it was written, but as we all know, you can please some of the people some of the time but never all the people all the time …

Whatever, fingers crossed …

Yet another reader comments, “… it feels like we are heading for Armageddon.”  Well, I take his or her point, but beg to differ. I have had my fair share of ups and downs in life, and if the experience has taught me nothing else, it has shown me the power of positive thinking.

Never underestimate the human spirit, neither its natural resourcefulness nor its compassion; we may well find ourselves at the edge of some transcendental abyss from time to time, but the human spirit will always lend us the strength to resist diving into it if we can but touch base. Never easy, and sometimes we fail; it has worked, for me - albeit more subconsciously than consciously - more than once, but especially when I had a bad nervous breakdown in my early 30’s and attempted suicide.  (I will be 75 later this year.)

To date, I know of only one friend who has died of a COVID-19 related illness; we played together as children, lost touch for years and found each other again online a few years ago. Every death is a tragedy for family and friends left behind.  At the same time, I am reminded of something a teacher at my old school back in the 1950’s told the class: “Love and friendship never dies, not only for remaining a part of us all our lives, but also for that part of them in us being passed on in ways and to people we may never know … and so it goes on. A university lecturer would later refer to it as a posthumous consciousness to which, as regular readers will know, I often make reference in my blogs and poems.

Remembrance is no compensation for loss, but I have always found it a great comfort to sense that no one’s life has ever been in vain; we all make a positive contribution even if we don’t always realise it. [Some readers may get a greater sense of my mindset from my reading of my poem,  ‘The Enchanted Wood’ @ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lGCv54LM4yo  - among other videos/ readings on my You Tube channel.  

I am not a religious person, and consider myself a pantheist; nor do I believe that religion has a monopoly on spirituality. In the sense that I try to give the human spirit a voice in my poems, hopefully they express something of a sense of spirituality with which I invariably engage as I write them.

Wishing you all love and peace, whoever and wherever you are in the world,

Hugs,

Roger

L-I-F-E, SEASONS IN TIME AND PERSONAL SPACE

Spring comes, offering all nature

and human nature a time to nurture

and flower, making such promises

as it craves will see our lives spread joy

on our graves

Summer comes, offering all nature

and human nature a time to give senses

their head, deck humanity with love

and peace, see any living nemeses left

for dead

Autumn comes, reworking all nature

by winds and rain enough to blow away

its debris, imploring mind-body-spirit

remain free before winter dares impose

captivity

Winter comes, nature, so eerily quiet

but for redbreast, forever making the best

of the worst, coaxing the human heart

into the Spirit of Stoicism, living metaphor

for its heroism 

Nature and human nature, deserving

a time to come, go, rest, and come again

in light and dark, each in its turn,

a measure of life and death, come ultimate

Harvest Home

Copyright R N. Taber, 2020