The Old Curiosity Shop (and Slumping)

From Roger’s friend, Graham

Browsing Roger’s blog postings offers interesting snapshots through time. A shop of curiosities decked with gems formed in deep poetic musings, tattered postcards of conflicts and whimsical ephemera. Playthings of the imagination, broken artifacts of childhood and sketches of zeitgeists vanished. Garlands of dried flowers from summers past and evocations of smiling snowmen long melted. His inner eye ever seeking out that glimmer of fascination in grey streets and overcast skies. His beautiful soul always aspiring for a kinder, gentler world united by love and not divided by oceans of tears.

I must admit that I’ve never met anyone like him before or since. Such friendship is a treasure beyond riches. With the pressures and distractions of life it’s easily to lose sight of that. Certainly it comes as an overwhelming realization with the wound of loss. Healed by time, true enough, but some injuries feel deep-rooted with a dull ache resonating through months and years. I’m sad that I’m not able to call Roger today to compare notes on life’s ups and downs, make each other laugh and take off into wild flights of fancy. Just here, earthbound; trying to motivate myself…

It’s raining lightly here in Essex on a Sunday morning. Quiet with just the patter of rain and faint drone of distant traffic. A gaussian grey veil masks the sun. Smudges of blue tease with notions of fairer weather. The wide bow of the Thames estuary that I overlook reflects the sky like a dusty mirror. Sluggish and lazy. Even the raucous black-headed gulls seem muted, pensive.

I’m fortunate that I don’t have to work on Sundays. I’ll feed the birds shortly. (You’re never truly alone among avian friends.) And then a riverside jog to restore flagging spirits and vitality. I’ll prepare a vegan roast dinner, laze for a bit, and dive into the raging torrent of work emails! (This mitigates the horror of my inbox at the start of a working week.) Finally, some indulgent escapism with a movie and some un-milked chocolate.

I’ll leave you with a poem which I hope captures Roger’s enduring rallying cry to ‘rise above!’. Thanks so much for reading. Please feel free to dip in to Roger’s blog and trust to serendipity whenever curiosity overtakes you…

 

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‘Heaven knows we need never be ashamed of our tears, for they are rain upon the blinding dust of earth, overlying our hard hearts.’  Charles Dickens (Great Expectations)

‘The most important thing in life is to stop saying, ‘I wish’ and start saying, ‘I will’. Consider nothing impossible, then treat possibilities as probabilities.’  Charles Dickens (David Copperfield)

 

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SLUMP or (ALMOST) IN FREEFALL…

 

Slump in a chair, thinking about life
and all the people I’ve known,
wondering where have they gone?

Slump in a chair, thinking about life
and all the things I have done,
wondering where I went wrong?

Slump in a chair, thinking about life
and choices made from the heart,
wondering where fear played a part?

Slump in a chair, thinking about life
and lovers who promised to stay
but left within hours of a night or day

Slump in a chair, thinking about life
and all the years wasted on regret
where I should have stood up to fate

Slump in a chair, thinking about life
and every epiphany I’ve known,
wondering where did I go so wrong?

Slump in a chair, thinking about life
and growing older, weaker,
for knowing I could have done better

Slump in a chair, thinking about death,
and all the people I’ve known,
wondering if there’s a hell or heaven?

Slump in a chair, watching television,
soaking up soap opera friends,
lost the plot, left wondering how it ends

Slump in a chair, fret about being alone?
Not this time (slam on the brakes);
will get my life back, whatever it takes

 

Copyright R N. Taber 2008

Hello again, Everyone, from London UK

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

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

Hello again Everyone, from London UK

Hi folks,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs,

Roger

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hugs,

Roger

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

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

 

 

 

Engaging with Life Forces OR A Universal Passion

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

Although This post /poem appeared on my general poetry blog two years ago, it has taken until now for a reader to complain that it is 'unbelievable' that I can dare suggest being gay is a life force; rather (he says) "it is an abomination". Well, we must agree to differ, a point of view few trolls are able to enter into. I did not leave social media because I was badly affected by trolls, but because I find them so boring and literally a waste of space. He is not the first, either, to suggest that my poems, too, are an abomination because I rarely use full stops at the end of stanzas. Now, as regular readers will know, I see a poem as a living organism that takes its life from any engagement with its readers; rightly or wrongly, I find that full stops - more often than not - act as an impediment to the continuity of consciousness it attempts to encourage.

Love, peace of mind, inspiration, positive thinking, dialogue, taking people as we find them and rejecting prejudice and stereotypes …these are but some of the many life forces some of us are inclined to forget, even dismiss, and fail to call upon to sustain us during hard times. First among equals, of course, is love - in all its shapes and forms; a close second, though, is dialogue, something in which too few people, communities and, yes, families too are inclined to engage, preferring to rush to judgements fired by such speculation as incited by personal ego.

Now, if we really want to achieve something in which we passionately believe, we need to be prepared to stick at it every step of the way though the going be rough or smooth. Maybe if the British Government believed more passionately in Brexit, they may well have achieved it sooner instead of alienating all sides and homing in on a compromise; as it is, our relations

with the E U are looking shaky if not irreparably damaged.

Certainly, if the LGBT campaign for equality that began with Stonewall had weakened, even given up under pressure from the eternal Naysayers in society, we would not have come as far as we have, here in the West at least; less so in other parts of the world so while where there is cause for celebration, there remains no room for complacency, and never is. Every cause worth fighting for will always have its nemeses with which to contend and find ways of either defeating or winning over.

In an LGBT context, it is good to see how the latter continues to prevail where once it would have been unthinkable. Hopefully, we can sustain the momentum and fling open doors previously slammed shut in our faces. Hopefully, too, a time will come when those societies and communities (including religious groups) bent on persecuting us may yet concede that our differences do not make us different, only human, and embrace an all-inclusive agenda of love and peace.

We are a common humanity, deserving better than certain separatist forces driving us apart; politics, dogma and prejudice to name but a few. At least the Covid-19 coronavirus has encouraged some people to put these aside and pull together, see the light in so far as there is really nothing wrong in agreeing to differ, it is but another life force in which we may freely engage without being divisive or judgemental

This poem is a kenning (or a Who-Am-I? poem as a kenning is sometimes called.)

ENGAGING WITH LIFE FORCES

A worthy ally, and necessary

to keep faith

with body-mind-spirit where

its causes just,

and likely outcome much the better

for everyone

engaged in the greater purpose

of making a positive contribution

to raison d’être

Whomsoever engages with me

needs must

feel committed to all ends

in view, no matter

any distractions conspiring to deflect

(even defeat)

such perseverance as treading

a tightrope of conflicting alliances,

no safety-net

Too often, fickle contemporaneity

makes such demands

of those who take me to heart,

expecting compromise,

would all but see me in free fall;

yet, keep the faith,

and count every battle won,

a triumph over the world’s Naysayers

in self-denial

Not for the fainthearted, I, Motivation,

feed momentum to inspiration

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018