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

.

Hello again, folks, from London UK

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

"You can please some of the people some of the time, all of the people some of the time, but you can never please all of the people all of the time." - Abraham Lincoln

Hello again, folks, from London UK

Sorry, no poem again today, but soon...

While I have no Covid symptoms, I suspect the stress f the past 18 months or so is beginning taking its toll on ole Roger, just as it is on everyone else, worldwide. Yes, I feel a lot safer for having had my booster jab, but I am feeling very worn down by it all, as I suspect all of you are too. Writing poetry helps distract me and keep a sense of proportion, but inspiration is in short supply right now. Even so, I have high hopes for a poem that is edging its way into my mind and will hopefully find its way to expressing itself before too long...

As if climate change was all we had to contend with...!

So, how do we come through Covid and its variants and manage to maintain a positive-thinking mindset in the face of illness and death all around us?  Good question, no easy answers. I guess we can but do our best to support each other and try not to blow the short fuse many if not most of us have felt burning a gaping hole in our lives for far too long, if it hasn't already.

As regular readers know, I had a bad nervous breakdown in my mid-30's. partly for being gay and closet-bound, chiefly because I had no real sense of direction and was physically and mentally tired of drifting and feeling sorry for myself. Eventually, I saw sense and realised that whatever future I might have was down to me, no one else. At the same time, I needed help,  to be pointed in the right direction. I had to go to Australia to benefit from the wisdom of an old Aborigine and suffer the indignity of being repatriated (because I couldn't find a job) before I found my way in life, although it would be uphill for a few more years yet. Eventually, I found the self-confidence to leave the awful closet that certain  peers and family had made me feel I 'deserved 'while growing up in the 1950' and aim for the life that I wanted, not what other people might have or want. Selfish of me, perhaps, but we all have individual needs and have to recognise them, not be intimidated into being copycats.

With the support of some wonderful people, some hard work on my part and accepting that being gay is who I am and not only doesn't make me less of a human being, but also strengthened my resolve to help give the lie to the fake news and faux stereotypes that continue to haunt many corners of various societies and communities worldwide. Yes, I have said all this before, so why say it again? I guess the keyword is self-awareness; admitting to ourselves that we are a psychological mess is a battle half won already, victory in sigh; it is up to each and every one of us not to lose sight of just what 'victory' means - for us and for any family and friends closest to us, given that so much of what we do and say invariably affects them also.

So why am I raking up my pathetic past? Because our past-present-future is the sum of who we are; interdependent aspects of growing up, whoever and wherever we are in the world, and doing our best to learn from our mistakes as well as invariably having to pay for them, one way or another. Learning is strength, and strength is what will see us through the pandemic; not least, strength of will, purpose and character. We can, after all, only ever do our best; it will never be enough for some people, possibly even ourselves, but it is what keeps us on that learning curve, adapting to change as only mind-body-spirit can. 

We are all different, so our 'best' will invariably highlight our differences, differences that can  no more be measured in academic terms than the human spirit itself. Education and learning applies no less to the inner self than what appears visible to others in terms of what we may say and do; both words and actions are always vulnerable to misinterpretation, especially if we try to 'measure' them according to what we see as 'acceptable' rather then making an effort to understand what drives those whose 'best' bears little or no resemblance to our own.

The best advice my mother ever gave me was not only to try and take each day as it comes, but people too, no rushing to judgement as humankind is so often inclined. We can but try, do our best to give people the benefit of whatever reservations we might have in the course of any casual,  closer, even more intimate acquaintance. Alas, what drives the inner self will always remain something of a mystery, to ourselves as well as each other; the least we can do as we climb the various hills and mountains of this life is... yes, do our beat.

Well, that's all my ramblings for today and many thanks, as always for joining me here on the blog. I only hope it helps prevent some of you losing the proverbial plot as it helps me, if only for doing my best to keep from falling into a cesspit of Doubt, Fear and various indescribable Unknowns that so like to tease Mind-Body-Spirit at such times as a pandemic or any crisis when many if not most of us are at our most vulnerable.  

Religions and philosophies will drive and comfort their own follower; for the rest of us, we can only do our best to rise above the worst of things, even if it means having to go with the flow until we get to swim freestyle again...

Take care, everyone and remember that we can only do our best, whatever circumstances in which we find ourselves. or may yet find ourselves; it may not always seem enough, but it has to beat doing less or nothing, surely?

Bye for now, take care and let's all do our best to nurture a positive-thinking mindset...yes?

Hugs,

Roger

[Note; this post also appears on my general blog today.]

Two (poems) for the Price of One

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

After two years of learning to live with the Covid-19 pandemic, tempers are beginning to fray for whom some, who were living on The Edge even before the pandemic, pent-up feelings of frustration have sought release in a variety of ways, some violent. While there can be no excuse for violence against another, mental health issues should never be underestimated, especially in such times as we are living in now.

A healthy diet and regular exercise can help to alleviate stress,, of course, but self-help isn't always enough. There is help available for anyone less able to cope with stress, especially when it seems to be coming at them from all sides; we have to recognise the signs, though, and actively seek help; There is no shame whatever in feeling less and less able to cope with stress, whatever its source, but we need to recognise the signs and get help before it manifests itself in such a way or ways that we are likely to live to regret.

My failing to recognise the extent of the stress that living in a closet was making itself felt over a period of some 20 years, resulted in a nervous breakdown in my 30's. I had been too scared to ask for help,  had convinced myself I could cope... and could not have been more wrong. The help and support I received on a road to recovery that took me 4 to years of hard, mental slog to cover and start applying for jobs again... was a lifesaver.

Whether heterosexual or of an LGBT persuasion, we are, each and every one of us, only human and human nature, being as complex a life force as it is, needs a helping hand from time to time and mind-body-spirit needs must reach out and take it. Never easy... but what in life comes easy to any of us? We may think some people have an easy life,  but few of us are ever privy to what goes on behind closed doors...

THE ENEMY WITHIN

Love turned its back on me,
yet would not run away,
but left me nailed to a tree,
(couldn't even pray.)

Pain alone left me free
to fight another day;
Love, my sworn enemy,
nails in a god of clay

Better stay angry than grieve,
avid ties sure to rot,
scars worm on a sleeve,
to prove - what...?

Love, like war and peace,
down to each of us

Copyright R. N. Taber. 2004, 2021

FLOTSAM AND JETSAM

Love hadn't touched me
for many years;
I'd let myself drift freely
on a Sea of Tears

Chanced to find peace
(or did it find me?)
and sought to anchor us
in that same blue sea

Sea of Sadness, no more;
blue, only the sky;
soul once bruised and sore,
bright as a swallow's eye

Ashore at last, for homing in
on your heart's outline

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2021

[Note: This post also appears on my other poetry blog today; both poems first appeared in my collection, A Feeling for the Quickness of Time, Assembly Books, 2005.]

Starting Out

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

Not one of my better poems today, but I enjoyed writing it after a lively chat with a young man on the London Underground. 😉

We made an unlikely pair, two masked men, one in the first flush of a Here-and-Now still full of possibilities, and yours truly in the latter years of a Here-Today-Gone-Tomorrow.😀 

We had once worked together when he was mostly stuck in the proverbial closet and he was keen to relate his experience of having come out of it...😁 

Sadly, my prostate cancer means I have been virtually asexual for some years now, but a guy can dream, can’t he, even at 75+...? 😊

Although most world religions love to impose guilt on LGBT folks for our being 'sinners', how can love be a sin, especially since they also insist that God is love...? As for enjoying sex, with or without love... well, that's just human. People can make what 'moral judgements' they like, but what gives any of us the right to do that?

No one should be made to consider themselves less than human, whatever their sexual persuasion; if their religion is an integral part of who they are, nor should they be made to feel any God of Love would exclude them from it...whatever anyone else might say. 

I can almost hear people snort, "Oh, and what does he know... but what do any of us really know?  Such is the heart of whatever it is we believe in;  it bypasses beyond all knowledge. 

As I have put to blog readers before... if those of us who feel unable to subscribe to any world religion, for whatever reason, can respect those who do, why can't we all simply agree to differ instead of taking offence?

 STARTING OUT 

Dark blue suit, white shirt,
red tie, glossy black shoes, a hint
of yellow socks, perfectly groomed hair,
a slick, city guy for sure

He was chatty with everyone
in the bar, if going easy on the drinking,
“He’s into mind games.” a sixth sense said
as we had sex in my head 

I looked away and got chatting
to a barman while he expertly pulled me
another beer, the stranger all but forgotten,
fantasy kept well hidden 

Gazing absently into my beer,
till someone’s bending my ear, looked up
to see a pair of smiling eyes, coloured green,
looking directly into mine 

“You’re a quiet one,” he said,
a twinkle in each eye and lips relaxing
into a cheeky grin, “I’m only passing through,
and I really fancy you...” 

I laughed and flung arms wide,
“Why me, when you can have your pick
of anyone here?” His turn to ask with a grin,
“Is that a ‘no’ then...?” 

“Why me?” I asked again, playing,
for time, head acting out the same fantasy,
brain’s traffic lights on amber, body in a sweat,
my first time out... 

He told me his name, I told him mine,
and we made small talk over another beer
until he asked if I lived nearby and would I be ok
with making his day... 

“I’ve not done this before,” I blurted, 
expecting a roar of laughter, but he just shrugged,
leaned forward and whispered, “Frankly, me neither,
so, let’s be good to each other...” 

We were more than good to each other
the night he stayed over, and I’d wake next to others
in due course, never (quite) as in love, though, it’s true
as now when I wake next to you 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nature and Human Nature Revisited

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

How well I still recall the old childhood cry, “Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me...” It was a lie I actually believed until I stood on the threshold of my youth as a gay person; I was 14 years-old and it was 1959, not a good time to be of an LGBT persuasion.

There were so many words, insults, faux stereotypical images behind every one of them; queer, faggot, cock-sucker among the least offensive, likely to be thrown at anyone even suspected of being “not normal” or as morally prescribed by the majority heterosexual point of view.

Yes, I know things have changed, but not for everyone and not everywhere. Whenever I recall barely scraping by as a real person, too scared to come of the damn closet until my early 30’s, I feel ashamed of myself and angry that some 40+ years on, there are men and women continuing to suffer much as I did, courtesy of various socio-cultural-religious agendas for bigotry worldwide.

Homophobia, sexism, racism... these could have been minimalised, if not eradicated altogether, had Education but done its job properly in its various academic settings rather than being made to feel it had to ‘play safe’’ by choosing to confine itself to academic life-forces rather than those at the heart of human nature that have made the world go round for centuries. Some may well argue that it is up to parents, not teachers, and they would be right, only how many parents really talk to their children (at any age) about the wider ‘moral’ spectrum beyond what they have chosen for themselves? If pressed, they will invariably say it’s a teacher’s responsibility, but as soon as a teacher attempts to help a class cross academic lines into real-life issues, its usually parents who are the first to express such outrage as likely as not  to be ‘legitimised’ by a social media that appears to prefer fake news and local gossip to anything approaching the facts of a matter, Consequently, offence is often taken where no offence meant other than to give us what we can expect to find outside the school gates... if we haven’t already experienced much of it for ourselves already...

Thank goodness for a level of maturity among many if not most young people these days, teaching them to recognize and differentiate between such fake news, home truths and stereotypes as academia rarely has an opportunity to home in on; where it does, it needs must walk on ‘eggshells’ - for which, read metaphor and simile least likely to cause offence.

Unfortunately, even the most well-intentioned statutes, such as those embracing Human Rights and Equal Opportunities are fair game for anyone whose power of persuasion (or power alone) is such that we may too easily be led (or misled) by their interpreting words to their own advantage, for negative as well as positive reasons. Whatever, the chances are that various media sources - with their own agendas - will provide them with a global audience...

NATURE AND HUMAN NATURE REVISITED 

Sun, beating down on a Covid-stricken Earth,
humanity encouraged yet again by the glorious rebirth
of nature as seasons come into their own,
seeds sown long ago start to flower, bear fruit, whatever
expected of their species, so human nature, too,
continues to rework stories of love and peace, such joys
of life that help compensate for its darker aspects,
wars and (local) hate crime ever among its chief suspects
besides drugs and people smugglers 

Apollo glaring down on a panic-stricken Earth
as if bringing kinder weather might even yet encourage
its communities to get their acts together,
cease making out that God’s in His heaven and all’s right
with a world so bent on making assumptions
that everyone’s okay with  progress keeping Business
in the loop, while having some folks jumping
through more Hoops of Change, only to find mind-body-spirit
as willing as ever, but less and less able 

Past-present-future starting to fall like fake news
on human ears ever wrestling with such sounds and effects
as now raising hopes, now free-falling us
into a sea of despair, waves crashing, that sinking feeling
almost welcome... but... mind-body-spirit
not finished with us yet, urging us to panic not, but swim
ashore, grab the reins of life once more, steer it
while reasoning the need, paying less heed to certain ‘betters’
whose words but axes grinding us down 

Rain, beating down on a Covid-stricken Earth, lending us time
and (personal) space to rise above its worst 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

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

 

 

 

 

Cornered OR Nil Desperandum

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

Asked how he was feeling at the height of the coronavirus pandemic, a neighbour replied that he felt “Cornered. I never know from day to day how that day will pan out and whether or not I will get through it in one piece, either physically or mentally, but...” he added with a shrug, “I can’t stop the damn virus, can I?  I just have to get press on and make the best of a bad job along with everyone else... I mean to say, let it beat you and, well, you’re done for, aren’t you?”

Did anyone ever speak truer words...? 

“Nil desperandum, - Never Despair. That is a motto for you and me. All are not dead; and where there is a spark of patriotic fire, we will rekindle it.” - Samuel Adams

CORNERED or NIL DESPERANDUM

The road is long, and crowded with faces
in queues at bus stops, fashion stores,
train stations, even for Covid vaccinations,
anything to give mind-body-spirit a lift
to such far-away places as we see in eyes
reflecting daydreams, general hubbub
given the old heave-ho just long enough to let
mind-body-spirit grab some peace 

The road is long, like a tale we’re making up
as we go along, no end in sight to make it
worth the effort, uphill, down dale, on frantic
city streets, lonely suburbs, leafy turnings, 
sneering passers-by enough to panic hearts
left vulnerable by years of fake news rejecting
accusations of intending more harm than good in
as many real as digital communities 

Yes, the road has been long, and I'm left asking
myself, whether I feel motivated enough
to continue my journey from here, where I stand
at the heart of No-Man’s Land or trust my feet
to find a suitable escape route, but what chance
of success where mind-body-spirit has tried
and failed to achieve anything along such lines a
heroic men and women in our fictions?

Time, perhaps, to consider the role models we
choose, we wannabe heroes, as we pursue
the humdrum and hubbub of everyday life all art
forms seek to encourage us to acknowledge
for fantasy and draw us in while it may, if only
during the kinder seconds-minutes-hours
of days that would leave us feeling all but defeated
humiliated, possibly broken-hearted? 

Ah, but artists, too, have role models into whom 
they breathe life, would give the Kiss of Life to any
relating more closely to near-death scenes than
any celebration of life, for all its pitfalls, resolving
to let peace, love, joy have stronger voices when
having to make choices affecting loved -ones
no less than ourselves, give humanity an opportunity
to get the better of its egocentricity

Come Here-and-Now’s demanding we let it pass us by,
time, perhaps, to be asking “Why...?

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

[Note: This post-poem also appears on my general poetry blog today as feedback suggests many gay readers choose not to access it and Covid-19 + variants has left most if not all mind-body-spirits batteries worldwide in need of recharging.. For gay-specific poems, see the blog archives,] RNT

 

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

 

 

A Yew Tree and a Rose (Revisited)

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

Covid-19 continues to take its toll on us across the world, and as a neighbour recently commented, "We are surrounded by death. True, but it will be Valentine's Day soon, so here's a poem to remind us that we are also surrounded by the evergreen nature of love. 

"The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration." - Little Gidding (Four Quartets) - T.S. Eliot

A YEW TREE AND A ROSE (REVISITED)

I had come to lay a rose
at your grave, already in tears,
pausing by an ancient yew,
to rage at its mocking humanity,
mind-body-spirit
at a loss for being left alone
to dwell on its being
denied the lifespan of certain trees
over centuries. 

“You carry poison in sap,
berries and leaves,” I screamed
at the yew, “while a love
that gives mind-body-spirit
its joie de vivre
remains subject to such trials
or blessings as nature
sees fit to permit, regardless of class
or circumstances." 

"Love, too, carries poisons
of its own,” the tree pointed out,
“possessiveness, envy,
and jealousy but three of those
so, speak not to me
of poisons, given how humanity
delights in half-truths,
all the more so for their having spread
among the living dead.” 

“Yes, there are some call me
‘Tree of Death’ who are ignorant
of leafy needles
I let fall to live and let live
over centuries
and of any healing qualities
in sap, leaf or berry as your apothecaries
may use against diseases.” 

“Earth Mother, will give and take,”
the tree went on, “for such is nature
and human nature,
each their moments in time
to be loved and leave,
though neither forgotten
nor even dead to those privileged to share
any part of their time here.” 

My tears dried, and raging no more
at the world for its coming between us,
I lay my rose
on your grave, murmuring words
of love, returned
in a light breeze that's kissing me,
promising, as you make us a home in my heart 
that death will not see us part

 Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

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

Hello from London UK

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

Hi Everyone,

Sorry, no poem today, but I am working on one so... hopefully, soon.

Hope you are coping as well as any of us can in the middle of a pandemic. Me, I do try to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life, and manage to do just that most of the time, but - like everyone else - I have good days and bad days. On a good day, I can usually complete a poem to publish here, and that always lifts my mind-body-spirit.

A new reader appears to have taken offence by my suggesting that religion has no monopoly on spirituality. No matter, we will just have to agree to differ.  The same reader also disputes that I can have a sense of spirituality without believing in God as according to any religious agenda. Again, each to their own, surely? 

As I have said before on the blogs, also at my poetry reading on the fourth plinth in Trafalgar Square, back in 2009 (my contribution to Antony Gormley's "One and Other" project that ran for 100 days) I see myself as a pantheist; I still do in so far as I see God as nature, not its creator. The reader clearly sees this as blasphemy, but I could never get my head around the idea of a personified God, even as a child; when I discovered pantheism, I could relate to it instantly. Besides, religious bigotry is not uncommon and - not least as a gay man - I find bigotry in any shape or form as distasteful as it is indefensible.]

No one has to embrace the religious beliefs of others to respect them, and I do, whatever reservations I might have, so how about this reader’s respecting mine…?

Another reader asks how I am coping with various medical issues, not last the prostate cancer with which I have been living since 2011. Again, good days and bad days, and the same with others problems.  Stress has a nasty habit of making us feel worse regarding just about anything likely to prey on the mind, even at the best of times; I dare say I am as prone to coronavirus stress ( hovering at about 80 on a sliding scale of 1 to 100) as anyone else! All we can do is take each day as it comes, for better or worse, and keep telling ourselves that life can only get better. Never easy, but do we have a choice?

Yet another reader is unhappy about my poems and preambles that suggest that my regular reference to ghosts as the personification of a posthumous consciousness indicates “an insultingly casual approach” to the death of loved-ones. Believe me, there is nothing ‘casual’ about it; it is a subject dear to my heart. I am 75 years-old, and those I have loved, as friends or more, are with me always, so great has been the impression they have made on me; impressions and precious memories that have helped me through good times and bad as well as exposing my flaws and showing me - not least by shining example - how to recognise and (hopefully) overcome them as needs must in the course of a lifetime.

Few if any of us are perfect. Others are as likely to take issue with what we consider out strengths as with any flaws or weaknesses, seeing them in a different light altogether. (How we come across to others is never easy to work out unless they tell us, and then it can sometimes come as a shock to mind-body-spirit. At the end of the day, though, I suspect it is how we see ourselves and what, if anything, we choose to do about it that counts, certainly in so far as managing self-confidence, self-consciousness or that old standby conscience is concerned.

Many thanks for dropping by, folks, always much appreciated,

Take care, be safe, and let's all try to nurture a positive mindset, whatever... 

Hugs,

Roger

PS New readers might like to take a look at poems in the blog archives now and then; they can be accessed on the right-hand side of any blog post.

[Note: This post 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

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.]

G-A-Y, Flowers of the Field

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

[Update. April 1st 2020]: The coronavirus, COVID 19, is spreading worldwide and various governments feel obliged to take various emergency measures; it all smacks of Big Brother to me although needs must we act responsibly and conform to a whole new socio-cultural-political mindset.

Whatever, let's stay calm folks, use our common sense, trust our basic survival instincts and we will get though what appears to be the worst global crisis since the second world war. Remember that thousands of people die of flu every year; while this corona virus appears to be far more serious than an outbreak of influenza, we all need to stay positive and help each other as best we can. The sick and elderly, are as always, the most vulnerable among us so we especially need to rally on their behalf, even if it means getting to know neighbours who are all but strangers. 

Me? I will be 75 later this year and have been living with prostate cancer since 2011. I live alone, but will stay in touch with friends by phone if mobility becomes severely restricted by any temporary legislation. Meanwhile, I continue to take each day as it comes, and hope for the best...] RNT

Meanwhile...

Whatever our ethnicity, creed, gender or sexuality, it is the same for all lovers and would-be lovers everywhere; if falling out is like a power cut, making up - or (finally) getting together for the first time - has all the natural thrills of an electric storm...

Nothing about love is unnatural, and that applies to LGBT lovers too; never let anyone tell or persuade you differently. Nor is the spiritual nature of love any less for LGBT couples; various socio-cultural-religious dogma may well argue differently, but be sure it is the human spirit in us all that will have the last word.

G-A-Y, FLOWERS OF THE FIELD

We were arguing,

(I forget why) and I stumbled,

fell into your arms,

struck by a sudden electric storm,

your lips, moist and warm

on mine, feisty red-hot tongue

prising them apart,

paralysing every muscle,

my heart folding in

on its epicentre like petals  

under siege

We broke away,

appalled by what we thought

we could see in our faces;

rage, fear, pain… like flashes

of lightning,

a hard rain falling like the tears

of old gods, home truths

lashing out at us like the wind

dragging vulnerable leaves

from brave trees as ever it pleases,

nature teases

We stared at each other,

wide-eyed creatures, less afraid

we’ll come to harm

than a situation caught us out;

no time to duck and dive,

but…a coming alive

in the throes of lightning flashes,

closing in on each other

by way of acknowledging

heavens above taking our part,

nurturing the earth

Storm over, fragile hearts opening

like flowers for the nurturing

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; rev. 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]