Robert B Findlay’s Love’s Keepsake is a book of poems written from the 1980s to the present day, stretching “from the romantic to the protest”, preferring no one particular style, using direct language to convey the meaning and the emotions within and between the words.
Taking inspiration from both American and British poets and songwriters, and as a non-conformist, he challenges boundaries and assumptions, as those who know him personally will readily confirm.
The range of the poems, starting with political poems and “snippets,” embracing those in power and those they looked down on, with memories of earlier times too, moves on from the “Spirit of ’45” to asking “who will shed a mournful tear, for the children we’ll never meet, lost out from some distant shore?”
Love’s Keepsake
The collection’s title comes from a poem of that name, ending with “I have given you memories of our time together. Love’s keepsake,” ten three line verses listing the gifts given that end with the summary of all that will remain in memory for ever.
Some of the personal poems are brief, but very much to the point. Nine lines comprised of just twelve words entitled “Distance” reveals a truth that might be bitter or sad, but is certainly realism to the poet.
“Welcome to Britain We’d like to invite you in,” followed by “What colour is your skin?,” and then … explained? … Justified? …. Whimpered? “With our imperialist past We’re scared shitless The empire will strike back at last.”
And then – Current Times are Shocking. Where people complain about the upper classes but pick on the weak, leaving old, sick disabled people to their fate, and encourage self-hate.
Robert’s poems cover all aspects of life, not just politics, disability, love, racism, but also loneliness, growing older, guilt, regret, loss, and the things that just fail or go wrong.
He highlights the colder and ideological aspects of charities, their separation from the people they are saying they are helping. The lack of connection, true empathy and involvement, and the resentment that generates.
And finally, the poem that registered most with me, “Badge of Shame”:
They took the flower from the field
Where you lay bleeding, crying,
Dying ….
…. from their greed.
They took the wire from which you
Crawled, battered, beaten…..
In hospitals of rehabilitation, you
Are fashioned into tragic victims
…. to make poppies
The poppy is a badge of shame,
Not a symbol of pride,
…. you treat them as cripples
Their comrades needlessly died.
My father, a private, survived Dunkirk, El Alamein and Monte Cassino. Many soldiers he knew did not. He never spoke of what he saw. Every Remembrance Day he wore a red poppy, and accepted that I wore a white poppy, and that we saw remembrance differently.
I recommend this book to all people who are willing to read poems and think about why they have been written. They are the thoughts, the beliefs, the ideas of one man, offering them to you, for consideration. And, he says in the introduction, he hopes for your enjoyment also. I certainly found both enjoyment and a lot to think about in them.
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