http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
[Update - April 24th 2020: With coronavirus COVID-19 likely to demand a significant degree of social distancing from us for some time yet, there will be many of us desperately missing the hug that says "I love you" in as many shapes and forms as love itself.] RNT
This relates to a time when Pride events in the UK were more friendly than cliquey, more meaningful than trendy. You could go on your own and feel part of what is often referred to as a gay 'community' which, more often than not in my experience, during latter years at least, is more wishful thinking than fact. Oh, and you could also go on your own and find yourself homing in on the real reason you were there but were too shy or scared (or both) to admit it...
I met my late partner at a Gay Pride march some years ago. He was killed in a road accident. We did not have long together and I never met anyone else about whom I felt anywhere near the same (or who felt anywhere near the same about me); no subsequent relationship even came close. Whatever, I count myself blessed for taking my cue for life from a love, given, returned and (still) shared in everything I do.
IT ONLY TAKES A HUG or CUE FOR LIFE
Whenever you'd hug me
I'd feel warm, safe, good inside,
and when you let me go
that pleasure was never spent
but continued to ferment
in me as it did that first time
we met at Gay Pride
in pouring rain, sheltering
under a shop awning,
vowing never to go again,
even as we laughed
until the sound soaked us through
and through, neither of us
quite knowing how we'd bonded
so soon, yet we had
Ah, but we saw in each other
a potential rescuer from remains
of the day, confident in a look
that said, I'm so glad you're gay.
won't you come with me,
back into the rain (your place
or mine?) and let's dry out
our clothes, get warm, no need
to be shy about being naked
or where it well might lead even
(we're grown-ups after all);
we could be just what the doctor
ordered, a fix of (real) life,
so how about we give it a go - or
we'll never know?
So we did, and it only took a hug
after that to make me feel as on top
of the world as at that Gay Pride
when we got soaked in pouring rain,
vowed never to go again,
but knew we would if only for seeing
in each other such tell-tale signs
as all lonely people dream of reading
in body language equal
to their own, spelling out a sense
of coming home, light
at the end of a tunnel grown
like Pinocchio's nose
for living a lie, fearing the worst,
denying the best
Though death be unkind in its parting us,
I 'll take my cue for life from your hugs
Copyright R. N. Taber 2008; 2018
[Note An earlier version of this poem has appeared on the blog previously under the title 'It only Takes a Hug'.]
[Update - April 24th 2020: With coronavirus COVID-19 likely to demand a significant degree of social distancing from us for some time yet, there will be many of us desperately missing the hug that says "I love you" in as many shapes and forms as love itself.] RNT
This relates to a time when Pride events in the UK were more friendly than cliquey, more meaningful than trendy. You could go on your own and feel part of what is often referred to as a gay 'community' which, more often than not in my experience, during latter years at least, is more wishful thinking than fact. Oh, and you could also go on your own and find yourself homing in on the real reason you were there but were too shy or scared (or both) to admit it...
I met my late partner at a Gay Pride march some years ago. He was killed in a road accident. We did not have long together and I never met anyone else about whom I felt anywhere near the same (or who felt anywhere near the same about me); no subsequent relationship even came close. Whatever, I count myself blessed for taking my cue for life from a love, given, returned and (still) shared in everything I do.
IT ONLY TAKES A HUG or CUE FOR LIFE
Whenever you'd hug me
I'd feel warm, safe, good inside,
and when you let me go
that pleasure was never spent
but continued to ferment
in me as it did that first time
we met at Gay Pride
in pouring rain, sheltering
under a shop awning,
vowing never to go again,
even as we laughed
until the sound soaked us through
and through, neither of us
quite knowing how we'd bonded
so soon, yet we had
Ah, but we saw in each other
a potential rescuer from remains
of the day, confident in a look
that said, I'm so glad you're gay.
won't you come with me,
back into the rain (your place
or mine?) and let's dry out
our clothes, get warm, no need
to be shy about being naked
or where it well might lead even
(we're grown-ups after all);
we could be just what the doctor
ordered, a fix of (real) life,
so how about we give it a go - or
we'll never know?
So we did, and it only took a hug
after that to make me feel as on top
of the world as at that Gay Pride
when we got soaked in pouring rain,
vowed never to go again,
but knew we would if only for seeing
in each other such tell-tale signs
as all lonely people dream of reading
in body language equal
to their own, spelling out a sense
of coming home, light
at the end of a tunnel grown
like Pinocchio's nose
for living a lie, fearing the worst,
denying the best
Though death be unkind in its parting us,
I 'll take my cue for life from your hugs
Copyright R. N. Taber 2008; 2018
[Note An earlier version of this poem has appeared on the blog previously under the title 'It only Takes a Hug'.]
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