Readers
often ask why I write fiction as well as poetry. Well, why not? Regular readers will know that I've suffered regular bouts of depression all my life; writing in any genre is not only
an enjoyable pursuit, but also a lifeline by way of creative therapy. Having anyone
read what I write is a nice bonus:
The first
novel I serialized was Dog
Roses, a gay-interest story about a young man and his family coming to
terms with his being gay; another, Like There’s No Tomorrow is about a woman who returns every
year to the hotel in Brighton where her daughter disappeared without trace some
20+ years earlier.
Meanwhile...
When I
was young, I’d frequently ask myself why I was gay… until I realized it did not matter. All that mattered was that I got on with my life and learned to let my
sexuality play its part. It’s my life, after all.
My sexuality
is no more up for being dictated to than my sense of spirituality. I feel
fortunate to have learned in time how to relate to both with a passion I try to
convey in many of my poems. In this respect, I owe absolutely nothing to
the 'education for life' I received in the classroom. Sadly, even these
days, gay issues are rarely if ever discussed in British schools; indeed,
across the world. If ever a gay person needed support and reassurance regarding
their sexuality, it is during our teenage years.
Sexuality is universal. We all have a gene that identifies our sexuality, thereby partly identifying who we are. Nor is sexual identity any less an integral part of the whole person that his or her social, cultural, religious identity... It is a mystery to me, therefore, how even the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority really believe there are no young gay boys and girls out there who will develop and grow into their sexuality as responsible adults
with no less integrity or capacity for love and compassion than anyone else?
You will
find homophobes in all echelons of all societies, and of all
socio-cultural-religious persuasions; some are out, others prefer to stay in
their stuffy closets. I have marginally more respect for the former
although it’s anyone’s guess why these foolish people insist on displaying
their ignorance of the human condition for everyone to see. I guess we can but
do our best to encourage them to overcome this blindness of the inner
eye in respect to gay men and women before more lives and societies worldwide
are made to suffer for it.
This poem
is a villanelle.
TAKING
THE ‘Y’ OUT OF GAY
We’d meet
after school every day,
go to our
secret place
learning
to take the ‘y’ out of gay
We took
our time, found our way
through
love’s maze;
we’d meet
after school every day
Two
teenagers with plenty to say
about
spots on society’s face;
learning
to take the ‘y’ out of gay
A brave
maturity, come what may
(some say gay is but a phase);
we’d meet
after school every day
At each
parting, so longing to stay,
but
homework setting the pace,
learning
to take the ‘y’ out of gay
Years on,
we came true to our clay,
where
others taking our place;
we’d meet
after school every day,
learning
to take the ‘y’ out of gay
Copyright
R. N. Taber 2010
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