Showing posts with label seashells. Show all posts
Showing posts with label seashells. Show all posts

Monday, 21 October 2019

Shell Seekers

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

Another poem from the archives of my general blog today which I imagine applies to just about everyone regardless of ethnicity, culture, religion or whatever...which just goes to hammer home the point that we are a common humanity; as such sexuality deserves no less respect that all the other differences that comprise a diverse humanity. I sense that the message is getting across to increasing numbers in the heterosexual majority, but I dare say we still have a long way to go before such blots on the human landscape as bigotry, prejudice and hate crime are finally overcome by the better, stronger, kinder side of human nature.

I have changed the appearance of this poem from the original version that appears in my collection which I first posted here on my general blog in 2007. It is no reflection on the original poem (that has also appeared in other poetry publications) but I felt it was crying out for a makeover of sorts. Some readers, I know, prefer the original version which was always well received when I read it at several poetry readings around the UK. Listeners, of course, unlike readers, are oblivious to how a poem is laid out so hopefully people will like the later version as much as if not more than its predecessor. You are welcome to judge (and let me know) which version you prefer.



Any changes to original poems will appear in revised eds. that I plan to bring out in a few years, but in e-format.

You can see/hear me reading the (revised) poem in an early video on my You Tube channel:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gj2HSJCvvBo

If the link does not work, either go to mu You Tube channel and search under title:

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaberOR 

for those of you who tell me you often cannot access You Tube for one reason or another, I have also posted the video here. (See below.)

Meanwhile, especially for Tony, Adam, Kylie and Roxanne from ‘Somewhere in the middle of nowhere’:

Original version (1991):

SHELL SEEKERS

No harder thing I do than loving you
at a distance as of sea and sand
at the going out of each tide,
at each coming up of the sun,
all the colours of morning strung
like prayer beads across the sky,
a benediction! You and I
as footprints on the shore;
Together. Parting. Wiped out.
Another tide, another morning,
another day - someone's searching
who'll know that we were here;
Beyond time and space,
false perimeters of place,
our love well-preserved
nor finer served than
by a shell's poetry, as
restless as the sea,
deceptive as each dawn

Like prayer beads, to
each our own

Revised version (2018):

SHELL SEEKERS

No harder thing I do
than loving you at a distance
as of sea and sand
at the going out of each tide,
each coming up of the sun;
all the colours of morning strung
like prayer beads
across the sky, a benediction!
You and I, footprints
on the shore; together, parting,
wiped out

Another tide,
another morning, another day
and others searching
who will know for sure
we were here

Beyond time and space,
and false perimeters of place,
our love no better served
than preserved in a shell's poetry,
as restless as the open sea,
all the more splendid for that
than any sunset or dawn,
for the dreaming or waking up
with a growing affinity
for all the seasons of life, love
and nature

Like prayer beads,
to each our own interpretation
and/or inspiration;
so, too, the ages-old poetry
of seashells

Copyright R. N. Taber 1999; 2018

[Note: The earlier version of this poem appears in  Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]


Monday, 4 July 2016

Among Tales told by Seashells


Today’s short poem is deceptively simplistic; it was written in 2004 and was first published in my collection the following year. I say ‘deceptively’ because I had to reach deep within myself to work out why I was feeling so incredibly restless; at times dispirited, yet also optimistic, rather like someone clutching at straws in a deceptively calm sea, unable to find the strength to even try and swim… [How can I be sure it is how I felt? The poem reminds  me.] 

I suspect most of not all of us have a sense, at some time or another, of being tossed about on the eternal in-and-out, to-and-fro tides of time; it can be very wearisome, to say the least.

Well, all I can say is if we are but flotsam and jetsam in the Sea of Life, may it be along the ever gay-friendly shores of love…

Okay, it wasn't the love affair of the century, but we were together long enough to remind us both there life, love (and sex) for the over 60's, and how LGBT history, too, has a delightful habit of repeating itself...at any age...if we let it.

AMONG TALES TOLD BY SEASHELLS

Love hadn’t touched me
for many years;
I had let myself drift freely
on a blue sea of tears

I chanced to find peace
(or did it find me?)
searching for the likes of us 
on that same blue sea

Gone, tears of loneliness 
blue, only the sky;
body (left all but spiritless)
a light in the mind's eye

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

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005

[From: A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005; revised ed, in e-format in preparation.]


Monday, 1 February 2016

G-A-Y, an inspired Storytelling


Regular readers well know how I love wandering along the seashore at any time of year, especially where I can travel through time and space to relive and enjoy happy memories.

When I was a boy, and as a teenager, I would listen to seashells and hear things no one else ever told me, reassurance I would not find at home or school as I struggled to come to terms with life, love and an awakening sexuality. 

It was a habit that would never leave me and one I enjoy to this day.  Now, of course, I am growing old, although I suspect the need for reassurance is rarely far away for any of us. Oh, and the tales the seashells tell me (whenever I am able to get to the seaside) are as inspirational as they ever were, if not more so which is very reassuring in a world where I like to think we LGBT folks are winning hearts and minds, but many of us still have to struggle to make our voices heard ...

G-A-Y, AN INSPIRED STORYTELLING

A collector’s prize seashell,
pretty on the outside, empty within
but for nature’s restless swell,
warning the world of its potential
for ruin…

I came, listening intently
to the shell’s graphic storytelling,
a fast growing empathy…
with twilight’s tides swirling
on the eye, magical tales
about everyday lives on the sea
as brave as Odysseus of old nor less
every one, a hero than he

Stirred by the sheer presence
of gay folks negotiating life’s tides
come storms or whatever forces
may see us to harbour or our graves,
I replaced the shell, oh, so gently
for others to find, hear all it has to say
on living life to the full, proudly, echoes 
ringing in my ears to this day

Heart lost, now navigating
its tides’ rise and fall, no empty shell
but fuller, bolder, for hearing tell
how nature defines and redefines us, 
one and all…

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2016

[Note: This poem a revised version of a poem that appears as ‘Researching Seashells’ in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]