Getting it Right

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

Regular readers will know that I am getting on a bit now (born 1945) and having to deal with the slings and arrows f old age.

When I was a teenager and much younger man, gay relationships were illegal here in the UK (until 1967). By the time being gay was no longer a criminal offence, I felt as though I had been locked in a dark closet, afraid to come out except in known cruising areas where gay men and boys would meet up and usually have sex. I had been told so many lies about homosexuality; that it is a cardinal sin, a shameful condition, whatever...

Eventually, I became so claustrophobic in that damn closet, I came out and stayed out. Yet, I recall those awful years as vividly as if it were but yesterday.

I don’t think it does any harm to remind ourselves just how awful being in the closet can be. It also helps reassure those who are still there that we have all survived the same traumatic experience; traumatic, that is, to a greater or lesser degree depending on whether or not we have gay-friendly family and friends.

In latter years, more of us than ever before have reached within ourselves for the self-confidence and self-esteem that encourages a gay person to tell the world he or she is gay. I’m sure I speak for most if not all of us by confirming we are better and happier people for taking that first step. Sadly, it remains a step too far for some people and we still have a long way to go before all gay people can take their rightful place in all societies world-wide. Yet (corny as it may sound) there really is a life to be had outside the closet, light at the end of even the longest tunnel. We have but to follow it. The journey will be different for each and every one of us, tougher for some, easier for others. Yes, we have a choice as to whether we make the journey or not, but at heart we also know what that choice needs to be; it remains, however, a choice only we, as individuals, can make, and no one has the right to force our hand.

Life balance is about getting it right, and we can but follow our natural instincts, not someone else's who think they know us better than we know ourselves. We may not get it right in their eyes, but it's our life, and we only get one chance to sow and reap its harvest; we won't get it right all the time (and there are plenty who will say "I told you so.") but we can get it right most of the time if we put our minds to it. Yes, homophobia is alive and kicking in some countries, homes and communities around the world, but as a young gay Muslim put it to me only recently. "Better a closet lover than no lover at all, right?" Right.

This poem is a villanelle.

GETTING IT RIGHT

Love found me long ago,
told me I’m gay;
(I did not want to know.)

This heart, it ached so
at each new day;
love found me long ago

Within, but a candle’s glow
kept sexuality at bay;
(I did not want to know.)

Time, so quick, so slow,
nor words to say,
love found me long ago

Deaf, dumb, blind I’d go,
maybe outed one day?.
(I did not want to know.)

Now, for you, glad to show
the world I’m gay;
Love found me long ago;
(I did not want to know.)

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007

Who Cares, Wins

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

Today’s poem was written in 1999 and has not appeared on the blog since February 2009. One of few gay-interest poems that have been published other than in my collections, it appeared in The Classic Collection of Sonnets, Anchor Books (Forward Press), 2000. Readers ’Yves and Javier’ have requested it today as they are celebrating the anniversary of the day they first met six weeks ago to this very day; also ‘Yuri and Vladimir’ simply ‘because we love each other.’

Here’s a BIG HUG from me (extended to all readers).

[Note: Some 600+ poems have appeared in general poetry publications worldwide other than my collections but barely 5% have been on a gay theme. What does that tell you, eh?]

Now, sometimes winning is a mixed blessing; it can mean taking risks; it may well be a case of win some, lose some, and never more so than in a multicultural society where there may well be socio-cultural-religious barriers to overcome, not least for those whose respective families and friends may well disapprove of their choice of friends, lover, career...whatever.

Better though, surely, to follow our instincts, hearts even...be true to ourselves and how we see
the world than be in denial or lie?  [Did I say it is easy?]

Love is beautiful. Never let anyone tell you that gay love is any less so.

WHO CARES, WINS

Love is all - to live and die for, yet
some would say, often bitterly,
one kind better to ignore, forget,
even in the 21st century

Our love took root, grew tall and fair
in a shady corner of Eden;
many who looked and saw it there
begged a cutting for their own garden

Most folk simply walked straight past,
believing it best for everyone;
others took sticks and stones to cast,
any excuse better than none

In the sun! Behold gay love, its beauty,
though none so blind that will not see

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001, rev. 2011

[Note: First published under the title 'Who Dares, Wins' in Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001, rev. 2011]

Broken Rainbow

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

[Update; November 2017: Lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) persons in Uganda have no specific legal protections. Activists estimated in 2007 that the Ugandan LGBT community consisted of 500,000 people. The Uganda Anti-Homosexuality Act  was passed on 17 December 2013 with a punishment of life imprisonment for "aggravated homosexuality". In August 2014, the Uganda Constitutional Court annulled the law. Nonetheless, LGBT people continue to face discrimination in Uganda. Households headed by same-sex couples are not eligible for the same legal protections available to opposite-sex couples. In February 2015 President Museveni signed the draconian Anti-Homosexuality Bill which called for repeat offenders to be sentenced to 14 years in prison and to make it a criminal offence not to report someone for being gay; the Bill was defeated in the Ugandan parliament and he has since said he will not pursue further anti-gay legislation.] 

In January (2011) you may have read or heard some media reports that a leading campaigner for Gay Rights in Uganda, David Kato, had been murdered. I (still) feel obliged to draw attention to what is happening in Uganda, not least because it upsets me greatly.

David Kato [Photo taken from the Internet]

Societies world-wide have a lot to answer for with regard to poverty, prejudice, peace, equality, HIV-AIDS...and more besides. At least some politicians do their best while others cruise along, content to play the blame game to distract attention from their own inaction. Yet others, we cannot help but observe, are plainly in politics for no other reason than their own egos.

Politicians in some countries - not just Uganda - put the 21st century to shame. The recent murder of David Kato in Uganda is more than a human tragedy; it is a crime against humanity and the likes of Giles Muhame (Managing Editor of Rolling Stone) deserve to be brought to book.

As if chronic poverty in Uganda isn’t tragedy enough, the persecution of gay people there continues to horrify the civilised world.

So what is the civilized world going to do about it?

This poem is a villanelle.

BROKEN RAINBOW

Under a broken rainbow,
tearful faces making their way
in this sorry world below

Find the seeds to sow
all those we’ve loved heard say
under a broken rainbow

Agreed, we’ve much to show
for packing prejudice on its way
in this sorry world below

By now, world leaders know
free speech needs to have its say
under a broken rainbow?

Areas (still) marked No-Go
for men and women who are gay
in this sorry world below

Where home truths fear to go,
political correctness has its way
under a broken rainbow
in this sorry world below

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

Mother And Child

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

Years ago, I found a stronger sense of camaraderie among gay people than has struck me in recent years. I even began to wonder if it was still there.

So I need to say a BIG thank you to those readers who have contacted me to wish me well with my prostate tumour, forthcoming biopsy and subsequent results.

It is good to know that there is still a sense of common humanity among many of us (still) trying to get across to the heterosexual majority that homosexual identity is a natural part of a natural whole, not something to be seen as separate or in any way unnatural.

Oh, there will always be bigots who love to pontificate about ‘sin’ and the like if only because they are punctilious pricks huffing and puffing their own self-importance at the doors of anyone who’ll listen. But there are also many decent people in the world, with open minds and open hearts, whatever conclusions about themselves they may have drawn.

Now, although I am not too worried about the tumour in my prostate, every now and then I get anxious. At such times, as I have always done in anything resembling a crisis, I let my thoughts turn to Earth Mother and she reassures me in much the same way as I suspect my birth mother would if she were still alive.

This poem was written in 2009. I was recently reminded why I wrote it by emails from men and women made to feel guilty about their sexuality by religious minded people who really should know better. As I have said before (and will undoubtedly say again) - take humanity out of religion and what you have left is not worth having.

'One touch of nature makes the whole world kin.' - William Shakepeare (Troilus and Cressida)

MOTHER AND CHILD

They stripped me naked,
wrapped me in a cloak of nettles,
dragged me to Hell’s gate,
calling on those gathered inside
(seeking a way out)
to open up and take me in, away
from a world that such as I
dare stain with the juices of a sin
beyond redemption

Yet, the gate did not open
though their screams of abuse
did not cease
nor did those inside overtly refuse
to do their best…
for I made so bold as to call
upon Earth Mother
to rebirth me at the milky breast
of sanctuary

They slunk away like wolves
from firelight, heat and glow more
of a threat even than I;
as for those others for whom also
the gate refused to open,
they could but resume fighting
among themselves
over who was to blame this time
and in whose name

‘Peace, child,’ she croons reassuringly,
from whom I inherit my sexual identity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

Time for a Reality Check?

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

Coming out to family and friends can be a traumatic experience even these days, worse when they don’t take the news too well. Give them time to get used to the idea, yeah? It can come as a shock to those who haven’t already guessed. Moreover, many people feel genuinely hurt that we haven’t confided in them sooner. Hurt can easily express itself in anger, an anger that many gay people are inclined to interpret as rejection. Sometimes, yes, they reject us for our sexuality and we have to try and win them round. In the early days, though, it may well be that they are angry with themselves for our not feeling we could trust them.

‘Win them over?’ I hear some of you protest. Well, yes. People who don’t grow up in a gay-friendly environment will often need time to put everything (usually bad) they have been told about gay men and women to one side and, hopefully, put love and friendship first. This may well put them at odds with their own family, friends, religion...whatever. So give them time to get their heads around it all, yeah?

Bear in mind it could just as easily be you wearing blinkers, yeah?

Many people are ok about homosexuality and same sex relationships these days, at least here in the West... but by no means everyone. As for gay people living in the southern hemisphere, their families and friends may well have been brainwashed by bigoted religious leaders or socio-cultural traditions...whatever, to think the worst of us. Love and friendship may well overcome prejudices that run deep...but not always. It is hardly surprising that so many gay people in Africa, India, the Middle East, China etc. remain closet all their lives. It is a tragedy that cannot be overstated.

The fact that many gay people and those who seek to be reconciled with transgender needs are denied the opportunity to live openly with their sexual identity has to be one of the modern world’s greater tragedies. So much for a progressive 21st century! We can but hope humanity will quicken its step and see to it that there is real progress world-wide in due course.

TIME FOR A REALITY CHECK?

I shed tears on my pillow most nights,
despairing of a homespun mentality
closing its eyes to how Human Rights
might extend to a person’s sexuality

A time came when I had to speak out,
tell the world not only that I am gay
but would not, for that, be put to rout
by cruel words ever chasing easy prey

See how cruelty borrows a human face
the easier to feed on an inhumanity
that respects neither person nor place
while binding its acolytes to apostasy

I felt so alone, nothing but dead ends
whatever conventional path I took,
no support from my family or friends,
life reading like a badly written book

I even took God (very) soundly to task
for providing no answers I sought;
then a voice in my head suggested I ask
what family and friends really thought

We hadn’t really talked anything through,
(I saw everyone as a potential enemy);
it now became obvious what I should do,
whatever people might think about me

Truth is stranger than fiction, people say,
and I had woven fictions around me;
True, some folks will despise anyone gay,
but blinkers off, the more clearly we see

Life rarely (if ever) resembles a fairy tale
or bedtime story (precursor to sleep)
but better drink from than fall into a well,
wake to promises fantasy can never keep

Copyright R N Taber 2010 (Rev. 2018)

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Caught Out Wearing Blinkers' in On the Battlefields Of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Tears For Fears

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

For me, one of the hardest things about accepting that I am gay and then having the confidence to be openly so was coming round to believing that gay people can fall in love just like anyone else. While it sounds absurd, it was contrary to everything I had been told and the last thing a youthful Roger Taber wanted was to be denied that golden opportunity only love provides. My sexual experiences had been the result of closet sessions that were more the results of teenage frustration than anything else. It would take a few more years yet before I was able to reject all I had been told about same sex relationships for a load of bigoted, ignorant rubbish and start looking for love. I found it, but my partner and I we were only together for a few precious years and relatively few people knew about our relationship for all sorts of reasons.

Although I never fell in love again, even one-night stands took on a whole new dimension. I wasn’t interested in sex for its own sake any more. I needed to feel an attraction for the person even if a relationship was never on the cards. Oh, there were flings here and there that were promising but did not fill their relationship potential for various reasons.

I am just so grateful, not only for finding out at first hand what love is all about but also for finding the strength and commonsense to reject all the bullshit that home, school and Church had thrown at me regarding the whole gay ethic.

TEARS FOR FEARS

I used to dream so about falling in love;
People said it couldn’t happen ’cause I’m gay
and men don’t do love, only toys and sex;
hasn’t been, can’t be, won’t be any other way
for centuries, so what’s so different now?
Holy Books condemn love relationships between
two men, say it cannot exist (let alone last)
in all conscience and truth. Ah, but the romance
and resilience of youth will not be deterred
from taking its due as I found when I met you,
electric shocks searing through my body,
scaring me as your bright eyes bored into mine,
seizing on thoughts running wild in my brain;
among them, a dream of falling in love though
people say it can’t happen ’cause I’m gay

Ah, but your smile tells a different story,
inviting me to write my own history, tells me
I’m my own man and love refuses no one
if they dare take a chance on themselves,
work at it as I worked on my doubts and fears
in the face of your beauty, our desires,
wanting to kiss your lips, tear off your clothes,
embrace a nakedness filling my mind’s eye
with images of ecstasy, troubled heart set free;
Oh, joy! To be joined with you, find peace
and love, let them smother inhibitions, lies fed
by this tortured soul to an unforgiving heart
and make a start, at least, to live - by accepting
there is nothing to forgive, whatever they say
about us because we are two men and gay

Yet, I turned away, courage all but gone,
resolving to play safe though it mean a lifetime
spent alone. You had other ideas, caught up
with me, grabbed my arm, intending no harm,
only that we might share time together,
take a chance on each other, no matter we were
strangers contemplating potential dangers,
reason giving way to a greater need, our bodies
screaming against everything we'd heard
(ignorant bigots saying gays are better off dead)
and whatever happened to trusting others
(and ourselves) to decide what is right for us
seizing the moment, not letting it slip away
because we're scared of what people might say,
(stereotyping us) once they know we're gay?

One by one I got the better of my worst fears,
let them drop away in your eyes, like tears

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2018

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]

Among Predators And Prey

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

A UK reader has contacted me to say he does not have a computer at home and accesses the Internet at his local public library. However, the library computers do not allow access to blogs. As he has enjoyed dipping into the blog at a friend’s house, do I have any suggestions? Well, only one. Both my blogs are participating in a UK Web Archive project operated by the British Library.

Try http://www.webarchive.org.uk// and go into ‘Search the archive’ (left had panel on the screen) and enter ‘G-AY in the Subject Field’ or ‘A Poet’s Blog’ and the blog you are looking for should appear. I should add that it is very interesting just to browse the archive for other blogs and websites.

Meanwhile...

Straight people often ask if I wish I wasn’t gay. What can I say? [Do I wish I wasn’t born, for goodness sake?] They also put it to me that it’s risky, what with there being so many homophobes about and religious zealots who seem to think their God would condone the persecution (and worse) of gay people. What can I say? [Should I be afraid to be as nature made me or, in their terms, how God made me?] I am a person, not a stereotype; no more or less so than anyone else, regardless of socio-cultural-religious or, yes, sexual persuasion. Human nature comprises many parts; more often than not, it is the sum of those parts in any of us that really counts. More often than not, too, it is unfair to cherry-pick this or that part and proceed to judge a person accordingly.

Love, in all its shapes and forms has always walked among among predators and prey; there will always be those who criticise, even condemn certain human relationships from the kind of narrow perspective on life expounded by various dogma and/ or prejudices. The trick is being able to do what comes as naturally as breathing to all creatures great and small...practise the art of survival ... on our terms, not theirs. As for those arrogant, bigoted, evangelical types who seek to gain favour with their God by calling for homosexuals and other LGBT folks to be either cured, saved or eliminated ... for the sinners we are and responsible for the spread of HIV-AIDS ...well,  if it is a 'gay plague' it is human one, and we should not rush to cherry-pick responsibility for that either.

God - however we interpret the word, religion or no religion - is Love, and love has no time for homophobia or any other sick prejudices.

AMONG PREDATORS AND PREY

Walking, my love and I, down urban
streets distracted by brats playing up a parent
plainly too scared to but plead for acceptable
behaviour or risk being chased like a fox
beyond the pale, given society’s predilection
for what is just and fair, especially where
children are concerned, hopeful they will learn
a sense of responsibility, not turn out badly
in the long run

Pausing, my love and I, on country roads
to watch lambs skipping in a field
reflecting how it was when we were young
pretending we hadn’t a care in the world
to all but ourselves, looking over shoulders
when we thought someone might see us
keeping to shadows for kisses they despise
who live in houses made of playing cards
(aces high)

Hugging, my love and I, seeing how things are
in the world, glad we have each other
to help us through what may pass for morality
but (invariably) is an excuse for sucking up
to those do-gooders who mean well but see
sweeping statements as a rule of thumb,
love to interpret nature’s laws along such lines
as human ends justifying human means
in the long run

Fearing for lambs as prey to foxes as gay kisses
to human prejudices

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

All Our Yesterdays OR G-A-Y, Coming Out to Love

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

Today's is one of my early poems, written nearly 40 years ago, but still rings true.

Now, coming out to family and friends and then finding love have to be among the most spiritually uplifting experiences in any gay person’s life. Never let anyone tell you that gay people don’t know the meaning of love or that religion has a monopoly on spirituality. [Yes, I know I have said this before and dare say I’ll say it again. But, as regular readers will know, I often quote my dear, late mother who used to say that if something is worth saying once, it is worth repeating.]

ALL OUR YESTERDAYS or G-A-Y, COMING OUT TO LOVE

One fine day,
I went looking for love,
but didn’t find it
in the whispering grass
or skies above

Where once a forest,
there weren’t any trees;
where once flowers
returned to life by the sun,
no love for anyone

I took a ship
to some Promised Land,
promises broken,
left lying in the sand
for me to find

I came home,
nothing much to show
but the knowledge
of a loser, it doesn’t
pay to know

One fine day
I went looking again,
found you all alone,
strained to hear you say,
‘Please stay...’

Only yesterday,
we started living again,
two gay men,
finally coming out
to love

Copyright R. N. Taber 1970; 2009

[Note: Slightly revised from the original, written in 1970 and rediscovered in 2009.]

Buddy, Joe

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

This poem was inspired by a conversation with a veteran of World War 2 whose partner has been killed in action. In those days, of course, same-sex relationships were illegal. During the 4+ years since I wrote it,  I have had similar conversations with young men (usually in gay bars) who have lost partners on the battlefields of Iraq or Afghanistan. [No, I wasn't necessarily cruising. I guess I have the sort of face people feel they can open up to.] Two of these guys were serving soldiers.  Same-sex relationships may be legal now, even in the armed services, but as one guy put it, 'Let on you're gay in the army and you're fu**ed up good and proper.'

I was only glad to be in the right place at the right time so they could pour their hearts out as only one can to a complete stranger.

BUDDY. JOE

The day buddy Joe left town,
my heart missed a beat, I nearly died;
I prayed for his safe return
at our secret place - and cried

No one knew how buddy Joe
and I shared a love the law forbade;
my grief I dared not show
for the dreams that once we made

Buddy Joe went to fight a war
in a land of which he’d scarcely heard;
of many others gone before,
the powers-that-be gave little word

The day of buddy Joe’s return
my heart missed a beat, I surely died;
as they lowered his coffin down,
for once my tears no cause to hide

No one knows how buddy Joe
and I indulged a passion the law forbade;
the world has another hero…
I can but grieve the dreams we made

To life restored, piece by piece,
and if sometimes taking a wrong turn,
I'm the richer for love and peace
that to Joe I’ll always look and learn

Copyright R. N. Taber 2006

Going One Better

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

Today’s is a new poem that I tried out recently on two Dutch guys, Maarten and Daaf, at a gay bar. They liked it so I am posting it today especially for them.

It is not usual to read or talk about poetry in any bar, let alone a gay bar but we spent a very enjoyable couple of hours, first chatting about poetry (Maarten writes poetry too) and then they wanted to know what I thought about gay men adopting children. [The Netherlands has allowed same-sex couples to adopt since 2001.]

I have no problem with same sex couples adopting so long as they are not just trying to make a point and genuinely want to give a child a loving home. I think these two guys would be great parents, but would have reservations about some gay men adopting in the UK. Yes, it is legal now but I’m not sure attitudes in general towards gay men have progressed to the point where adoption is as acceptable as, for example, between straight or even lesbian couples. Parents must put the best interests of their children first and en some straight couples don't have the strength of character for that. some same sex couples have neither the

Sadly, the less enlightened heterosexual majority remains very wary if not downright hostile towards gay men. Any gay couple need to ask if it is fair on a child to subject him or her to the likelihood of verbal abuse (at the very least) from peers as he or she grows older. This said, it has to be better for a child to grow in up the atmosphere of a loving home than pass through the Care system. As for Maarten and Daaf, they plainly feel confident they can give a child not only love but also the self-confidence and self-esteem to cope with the kind of ignorance and bigotry that continues to haunt societies worldwide. I wish them well and any children they may adopt.

I have to say I have more admiration and respect for couples (gay or straight) who adopt rather than choose the donor insemination option. I don’t accept that it is every gay man or women’s ‘right’ to have a child any more than I accept that it is every heterosexual woman’s ‘right’ to have a child. We are as nature creates us. If we have a capacity for love, we should be willing to give that love where it is most needed. Since many gay men and women have no less a capacity for love than anyone else, I passionately hope that gay adoption (among men as well as women) will, in time, increase and become more acceptable here in the UK than it is now. In the meantime, while any suggestion that same-sex parents are more likely than a heterosexual couple to abuse a child is insensitive and offensive, it is one that needs to be more openly, sensitively and intelligently debated.

Meanwhile...

Yes, summer does seem a long way away. Ah, but there is always the memory of last summer or summer/s before that...to keep the winter chill at bay, not to mention looking forward with feisty anticipation (and a rampant imagination?) to summer 2011.

GOING ONE BETTER

He rose out of the sea and strode to the beach
like a hero from ancient myth,
bold and cocksure, plainly aware of admiring looks
for his physique and mystique,
this acolyte of Poseidon, fresh from the temple

He passed me where I sat, oozing a physicality
teasing my every muscle,
one glance fuelling a fiercer heat on me than a wink
from Apollo playing Peeping Tom
among fluffy clouds gathering to enjoy the circus

I could not resist but followed him to a sandcastle
whose turrets boasted flags
signalling a questionable welcome for the likes of me
to take up or dare betray myself
to the god now sprawled on a regal purple towel

I sat nearby and tried to adopt a Day Tourist role,
appear happy and relaxed
while my whole body, it wept the intensity of desire
probably mistaken for perspiration
by the heterosexual majority sunning themselves

I dared an occasional glance and he caught me out,
returning my shy smile
with a sea green gaze that penetrated my whole being,
read my mind as if it were
a sexy book cover left for others to drool and pass by

He ran his tongue along his lips, poked it out at me
then burst out laughing
and the sound, it cut me to the quick till I recognised
the timbre of passion
rising to the occasion, marking the gamut we’d run

Oh, and run it we did, through earth, water, fire and air,
two gay men going one better than any sexy book cover

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

The Red Ribbon, Badge for an Open Heart

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

Having been partially deaf since early childhood, I have never had an ear for languages but so wish I had as then I, too, would have been able to work in countries where English is not the first language spoken. In the UK, schools that do not teach young children several languages are, in my opinion, letting them down badly. The earlier a child starts to learn a language, the quicker he or she will grasp its intricacies and, hopefully, become bilingual. [As an island race, being physically separated from the rest of Europe often works against us Brits.]

Not speaking a language should not deter us from visiting other countries but how much more there is to discover and enjoy if you can communicate with the locals in their own language! I have always done my best and people seem to appreciate it but I suspect my poor efforts have unintentionally given many people the best laugh they have had in ages.

Why this preamble? Well, a French reader ‘Alain’ came across the poem and has asked for it to be posted for his birthday today, especially as he is working in Germany and will be away from his partner Roberto in that part of Italy where they have made a home together. Both are HIV positive.

On December 1 we will mark World AIDS Day. Gay or straight, we should remember those living with HIV+ and those who have died; remember them with love in our hearts.

I am fortunate not to be HIV+ yet have often been put down by people just for being gay. At such times,  I look to the better side of human nature for reassurance, help re-assert my self-esteem and pride in who and what I am. As someone who takes a strong sense of spirituality from nature, do I ever feel that it has let me down? Not at all. Mother Nature gives more than she takes away, and without any form of discrimination. It is the discriminatory nature of humankind that is to blame for much if not most of of its persistent in-fighting.

Do I find what I am looking for in nature and human nature? Oh, yes. It may be in short supply, but it is always there.

THE RED RIBBON, BADGE FOR AN OPEN HEART

Twilight, favouring us all

with a misty golden rain, joyful hymn

to peace risen  above our pain,

freely acknowledging we had come

to that last, lonely parting

at time’s guileless whim, bringing us,

less prepared than we should be

though each of us warned enough

of eternity tied like a ribbon

in Earth Mother’s hair though it flow

across near-far horizons 

where rich and poor, beggars,

thieves, saints and murderers come

for a reckoning they’ve probably

spent temporality earning (or avoiding)

on that axis of morality known

for bending rules, taking advantage

of kith and kin ever anxious to salvage

the spoils of Creation

Fading fast, a sombre twilight,

waiting (like us) for moon and stars

to light up the gloom, help us

see a way clear to be sure a ribbon

for Earth Mother’s hair never forgotten

or love (ever) forsaken

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

[From: Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]

The Quilt Makers' Song

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

[Update, November 2018: 'The NAMES Project AIDS Memorial Quilt, often abbreviated to AIDS Memorial Quilt, is an enormous quilt made as a memorial to celebrate the lives of people who have died of AIDS-related causes. Weighing an estimated 54 tons, it is the largest piece of community folk art in the world as of 2016.' - Wikipedia.]

I am often asked to repeat the link to my poetry reading in Trafalgar Square as my contribution to Antony Gormley's 'live' scuplture in Trafalgar Square. summer 2009, One and Other; it lasts an hour:

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T [For now, at least, this link needs the latest Adobe Flash Player  and works best in Firefox; the archives website cannot run Flash but changes scheduled for later this year may well mean the link will open without it. Ignore any error message and give it a minute or so to start up. The video lasts an hour. ] RT 3/18

Among all the poems I have written, today's poem is a particular favourite; it first appeared as Pride in a selection of poems August and Genet, Aramby Publications, 1996 (Wire Booklet Series No. 12). I was never quite happy with the title and changed it after experiencing the privilege of viewing part of the AIDS quilt during a trip to San Francisco in 1999. The poem first appeared under its new title in an anthology, A Search For The Truth, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2000 then in my first collection. I have read it at most poetry readings I’ve given around the UK and am delighted to say it has always been well received by audiences at gay and general events alike.

I have always felt passionately that HIV-AIDS Awareness should be far better promoted in societies worldwide.  So  (as regular readers will know) I was delighted to write a poem for DAMSET, an Educational Trust that has created a memorial mural for those across Dorset who have died of AIDS. The project involved going into local schools and many children created designs for the tiles on the mural. It was a labour of love; everyone involved put in a lot of hard work and gave up much of their time to see the project through to its inauguration on World AIDS Day 2010. I feel very privileged that my poem is also included on the mural. It is a beautifully conceived project and has done much to promote HIV-Awareness across Dorset and also the UK, especially as the mural is close to the pier entrance in Bournemouth and will be seen by many tourists to this lovely seaside town as well as local people for years to come. (I included the poem in my Trafalgar Square reading.)

For more information about DAMSET go to: http://damset.co.uk/

Life, death...we must learn to live with both. Are we up to the challenge? Do we have a choice? No, so we might as well give positive thinking a run for its money, yeah?

THE QUILT MAKERS' SONG

Life! Let me not hunger
for all I cannot be, but
suffer me a passion for
what’s gone before;
Let me build cathedrals,
flare them high, dedicated
to my better selves
so they may rest easy
in a shade, against crosses
made by matchstick men,
losses we shall count again
when the time comes
to account for more
than dreams. Life, not
all it seems

Love! Let me not beg
at the roadside, but
give freely and let’s
paint pictures to last
centuries, windows
stained with all the colours
of our love-making;
Let those who come after us
be together in their turn
and lift an eye for knowing
this; and we shall share
each kiss again, again
again – we matchstick
men. Love, not
all our pain

Death! Let me not weep
for those I have loved;
Let there be candles lit
in each airy cathedral,
saintly with sunshine,
ringing out with rain, our
seasons come again!
Smiles of joy among the tears
to mark this, the salvation
of our fears, a passing
through chance memories,
celebration of our years;
Butterfly wings across
a garden. Dead, and
who’s forgiven?

Copyright R N Taber  2000

[From: Love And Human Remains (a misprint in some eds.) by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000  and as an Appendix in First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Something to be Said for Spreadsheets

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

A college lecturer has contacted me to say he enjoys some of the stories my poems tell but I should write more 'real' poetry.

So what, I ask myself is 'real' poetry? Whatever...I am as I am and I write as I write. Many people seem to enjoy my poems and that's good enough for me; at least they are real. As for my critics... [Do I care?]

Meanwhile...

If you can’t stop the office gossips, why not give them something to gossip about?

Oh, did I forget to mention I was born with a wooden spoon in one hand? Well, there’s nothing like stirring things up now and then to combat bad attitude, bring misleading stereotypes to task, make the case for we gay folks being no better or worse than anyone else, not to mention more sinned against than sinning by those who purport to subscribe to this or that religion whose leading clerics invariably betray its basic principles of peace and love by propagating stereotypes tailored to their own interpretation of its Holy Books.

SOMETHING TO BE SAID FOR SPREADSHEETS

Love’s light shone brightly in our eyes,
though we but chanced glances among high fliers
tongues wagging secrets and lies
gathered from grapevines, but never ours

It would be years before the room learned
that secret we kept safe, those lies we readily told,
how day and night we yearned
each other’s naked body to have and hold

I’d watch you over my desk sucking a biro
and in the mind’s eye we’d dare a passionate kiss,
not a single colleague in the know
(plainly married to a career, the pair of us)

One day someone made a cutting comment
about gay people expecting equal rights, equal pay;
the pink gin of prejudice left to ferment…
till you casually remarked that you’re gay

The silence deafening, spreadsheets on hold,
eyes looking everywhere, not a single key pressed,
a sense of shock-horror, blood running cold,
the office gossip machine making time to digest

You got up from your chair, approached me
and a shiver rippled down my spine, hands shaking
as I told my alter ego what will be, will be,
bracing myself for some history in the making

Our kiss but brief, you returned to your chair,
spreadsheets resumed, fingers flying across the keys,
so I did the same, though acutely aware
no one else was of a mind to do likewise

Extended applause, even a cheer here and there,
restoring our flagging faith in human nature

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007

Engaging with Confession

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

The original title of this poems was Accomplices but I was never happy with it and changed it upon deciding to include it in a collection. I often make slight and occasionally major but always significant changes when I come to publish a poem in print form. It was inspired by a conversation with two gay men in their mid-thirties, both married with children, who has been having a closet relationship for many years. Both told me they adored their respective families but had tried and failed to stop seeing each other.

When pressed, both men admitted they had got married because they could not face the prospect of living an openly gay life. Neither would accept my argument that it isn't so different to living any other kind of life. So what, I asked them, is so terrible about being openly gay in the UK, especially these days? One guy had no answer. The other insisted that gay people are still stigmatised for their sexuality in spite of legislation to the contrary. I have to admit, I see only too clearly what he meant.

It is a sad reflection on modern society that it can still keep the closet door tightly shut on some gay men and women. As I have said many times, things will only change for the better when schools start openly debating gay issues so the children and young people of today are less likely to become the homophobes of tomorrow.

So...Education, education, education, YES.

So come on, Head Teachers everywhere, what's stopping you bringing your schools into the 21st century and catering for all your students, not just the heterosexual majority?  You reckon hay have never had it so good?  So how would you know when most gay boys and girls are too scared and/or ashamed to tell you they are gay anyway?  At least let them know from the start that there is nothing to be scared of or ashamed about being gay and that sexual identity is an integral part of who we are. No one should be made to feel scared or ashamed of that.

[Note: Not so long ago, I got chatting to a bisexual teacher who told me it was more than his job is worth to promote class discussion about gay/bisexual issues. 'The kids would be up for it,' he told me, 'but the Head would be down on me like a ton of bricks and few of the staff would openly support me plus I'd soon have most parent-governors and parents baying for my blood...]

It was Mark Twain who attributed the quote 'there are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and statistics' to Benjamin Disraeli in Chapters from My Autobiography while I have long lived with my own variation....

ENGAGING WITH CONFESSION

You have a beautiful wife, children,
and none must suspect you pay but lip service
to convention

You love your wife and adore your son
yet even love can play the willing accomplice
to deception

Invariably, late nights at the office mean
you’re haunting well-known cruising grounds
for gay men

While your wife tucks up the kids in bed,
you’re enjoying sex with another man, for real
or in your head

You feel so guilty it’s blowing your mind,
anxious but scared to confide in anyone, family
or friend

You long so to speak out from the heart,
suspect if you do you’re whole world will surely
fall apart

Family, society, culture, convention,
all insist they know best while failing humanity
and themselves

One night, you begged me hear you confess
as we surrendered our bodies in bushes that will
have heard worse

More than mere flesh joined together as one,
we discovered a kind of love that will even satisfy
closet men

You have a lovely wife, two beautiful children
and (more than anyone) I know they come second
to none

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2017

[Note: This poem first appeared under the title, 'Key Players in a Black Comedy' in On the Battlefields Of Love: poems by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]

I, Diary

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

A new reader has been in touch asking about my poetry reading on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square that is mentioned in my Wikipedia entry. The entire web stream is now archived in the British Library. You can access my contribution via the link below; removing my name from the link will enable you to access all 2400 contributors:

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T   [NB: Sept 19, 2019 - The British Library confirmed today that he video is no longer available as it was incompatible with a new IT system, However, it still exists and BL hope to reinstate it and make it available to the public again at some future date.] RNT

Meanwhile...

I have never kept a conventional diary. Yet, my poems are a diary of sorts. They reflect thoughts inspired by all manner of people, places and events, all coming together at that crossroads we like to call a philosophy of life. Readers are invited to share without being asked or expected to take the same journey; hopefully, some of you will find something along the way to make your own lives that little bit easier and/or reassuring and/or comforting. If I fail miserably, at least I have left a record of my own journey. Certainly, I enjoy retracing my steps from time to time. (I can still remember the feeling of pride I felt on my first Gay Pride march in London. Pride, less in myself than in being a part of everything the march stood for and standing shoulder to shoulder with people feeling much the same way, each after his or her own fashion.)

Whenever I read a poem of mine, I usually think how I could have done better. Even so, I instantly relive the experience of writing it and likewise the inspiration behind it. It’s like flicking through pages of living memory; seeing, hearing, tasting, touching and smelling early years, middle years and later years... getting a sense of endings that are not endings and feeling encouraged to believe that nature has more in store for us than just ‘The End.’

On a very personal note, my poems track my love for a man that lies at the root of just about everything I do, say, write and am. Our relationship may not have lasted long in terms of time but rose above that to conquer space. He was killed in a road accident years ago. For a while, my world stood still. But love was having none of that and told me to get on with my life. So I did. But he is as much a part of me now as he was then.

So we were two gay men in love...so what? The heterosexual majority never had a monopoly on love.

I, DIARY

Sun on my face, joy in my ears,
summer jostling for pride of place
among the seasons of my life

Feel autumn drawing near,
its leaves jostling for pride of place
among the pages of my life

Tears on my face like icicles,
winter jostling for pride of place
while Earth Mother takes five

Sun on my face, joy in my ears,
springtime jostling for pride of place
among the seasons of our life

Feel summer drawing near,
its leaves jostling for pride of place
as we turn the pages of our life

End pages, no blank space,
words of love signing off our history
while Earth Mother takes five

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

G-A-Y, Magic Moments OR In the Wash

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

Today's poem last appeared on the blog in 2009. It has been requested today for 'Harry from Newport. While not strictly autobiographical, I can easily relate to it. It was inspired by a friend’s experience at a local launderette and I started writing the poem while my washing was chugging around in a machine there.

Now, various people, lovers too, enter and exit our lives like actors on a stage and sometimes we and/or they fluff our lines. Some of us get a second chance to get it right, others find themselves in another play altogether. While I’ve had boyfriends before as well as since I discovered and lost the love of my life, I have never been very good at relationships and always needed a lot of encouragement to make them work. Work at them though, I was always willing do. Although I have a string of failed relationships behind me, they also gave me some great times and put me in touch with some wonderful people, a few with whom I have stayed friends for years.

G-A-Y, MAGIC MOMENTS or IN THE WASH

One day, my lover told me he was leaving,
how he wished he’d never met me,
packed his bags and just walked away;
I spent months on weepy streets
trying to forget about us, cruising casual meets,
till  met someone at the launderette
who had never been there before, and asked
to share my soap powder

We chatted away on an old wooden bench
and soon I was dying to tell him
how I loved his smile as he related how he
and his girlfriend were new to the city,
(puppy brown eyes letting me down gently?)
but although we'd see each other there
on Sunday afternoons, come rain or shine
he never mentioned her again

It wasn't long before more than his smile
took on a whole new meaning for me
whenever we were together, magic moments
of the kind that may (or may not) mean
something or nothing, but hope springs eternal,
and we knew something special between us
deserved at least a fighting chance to find out
just where it is that fools rush in

My ex turned up one day, suggested we try
and get back to the way we were;
I let him hug and kiss me, but he’d guessed
it was too late, long before I confessed
to a magical launderette with a mind of its own
having put him out of my head for love
of another, though I had no idea he felt the same
or just wishful thinking on my part

He took the news badly and called me a fool
for throwing us away on a whim,
overlooking that it wasn't me gave up on us,
but him, plainly expecting me to fall
on my knees and kiss his feet, as months earlier
I well might, but absence hadn’t left my heart
growing fonder, rather it was beating all the faster
for freedom won if never sought

Just as he was leaving, my new friend arrived,
took in the situation at a glance,
grinned and shook my ex's hand, thanked him
for putting me his way, then kissed me
like he never had before, throwing me a wink
as my ex stormed out, slamming the door,
whereupon others we had barely acknowledged
applauded us, and let rip with cheer

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005. 2021

[Note: This poem has been significantly revised from the original as it appears under the title 'My Beautiful Launderette' in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005; another (unpublished) version that appeared on the blog in 2011 has also been slightly revised, 2021] RNT

A Moment in Time

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

Sometimes people cannot bring themselves to take that extra step towards achieving their heart’s desire. Gay or straight, there can be many reasons for this, but more often than not the answer lies in upbringing. Even these days, some gay people find it hard to break away from that, especially if their family background is a religious one and/or gay-unfriendly. I think it is very sad but understandable.

So, yes, I have only sympathy for closet gay people, even those who are so much in denial that they get married and try to ‘go straight’. I tried going straight myself many years ago, having been raised to believe that homosexuality was about as low as anyone could stoop! It was, of course, a disaster bordering on farce! Thankfully, I managed to break away from all that even though it meant breaking away from a family I knew would never understand if only because they had been subjected to the same brainwashing as me. Besides, apart from my mother, they were not the kind of people willing or able to talk things through objectively. When I had a nervous breakdown, I needed to talk to my family but there was never any talking things through with my family, even at a time of crisis. Sadly, it is much the same among families world-wide for a variety of reasons and not just for gay people either.

I have no regrets. Eventually, I found a man I loved and who loved me. Although our time together was relatively short, I would not have missed it for the world. Being gay is an important part of who I am and I so glad that somehow I managed to stand up for myself and be counted as such.

Did say it was easy?

Oh, yes, it can be easy(ish) for some if you are from a liberal, understanding background. For others, it is no easier now than it was for me years ago. That is why I loathe the practise of ‘outing ‘ people (whoever they are) and have no time for cheap journalism or the likes of Outrage. As I have said before on the blog and elsewhere, whether or not to be openly gay has to be a very personal decision; no one has the right to force anyone to do so. If any gay person - whether or not they are in the public eye - chooses to stay in denial and/or try and pretend otherwise, that is up to him or her, no one else. Even so, I can’s help thinking it is a waste of life if you spend it living a lie. It is so uplifting to know that more and more gay men and women world-wide are coming to the same conclusion.

A MOMENT IN TIME

For years, he was just a mate,
but I loved him more than that,
yet saw the pretence through
that only in my dreams he knew

Ah, but dreams end each dawn,
though love’s appetite lingers on
through another agonizing day...
(Can’t, mustn’t tell him I’m gay)

We’d do everything together
as best mates do, sure to weather
any storm, or so he’d believe,
unaware how his body I’d crave

He met a girl and I took fright,
slunk off like a thief in the night,
ignored his daily calls to me,
making out I was always too busy

She sought me out, told me true,
how she’d fallen in love with you,
yet no future in it could she see
since you were in love with – me?

I could tell she meant every word
but told her it was madness, absurd;
we were mates, no more or less...
(She wished me luck, with a kiss)

That same night I answered the call,
resolved to make some sense of it all,
sure you’d laugh when I confessed
and, yes, we both roared - and kissed

What a kiss! Sweeter than honey
on my tongue or finest nectar to me
as I felt our selves join as one…
long before a first lovemaking done

So long ago, yet I will always save
fresh tears for flowers at your grave

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007

Matchbox Man

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

Today's poem received mixed comments when it first appeared on my gay-interest and general blogs in September and December 2009 respectively. To those people who said that for a gay man to marry a woman (or for a lesbian to marry a man) and live a double life is indefensible, I can but suggest they ask themselves why any of us - gay or straight - sometimes feel driven to do what we do.

It was no uncommon years ago for gay men and women to marry and, to all intents and purposes, lead a conventional life. Sadly, although many of us have moved on here in the UK, others haven’t and still cannot confront what they have been told is a grave flaw in their nature…homosexuality.

Call it gay, queer, whatever…our sexual identity is an integral part of who we are. Deny it and to no small extent we deny our very selfhood. I ask you, is that any way to live? Oh, everyone has their reasons and socio-cultural-religious influences cannot be underestimated especially in less enlightened parts of the world (and I do not exclude parts of the so-called ‘liberal’ West).

Is it not high time various religions, cultures and societies world-wide started to get real about homosexuality and settled their differences instead of constantly harking back to oral and written traditions as if they were written in stone?

As I have said before, moving on does not have to mean leaving anything or anyone behind. It’s called (real) progress and has its roots in a common humanity; if that covers a multitude of sins, be sure they are being revisited on a 21st century that hasn’t even completed a decade yet!

World leaders are always pointing to the value of redemption and salvation in a religious and/or political and/or economic context if only to their own advantage …so how about they start putting some flesh on the bones? (Consider the likes of Martin Semper and Robert Mugabe, for a start.)

No one should be made to feel inferior because he or she is gay or transsexual. If they feel forced to live a lie because their world and its Big Brother continue to breed bigots, we should all hang our heads in shame. Living a lie, for many people, is tantamount to slow torture if not death.

‘Each man’s death diminishes me, for I am involved in mankind. Send not to know for whom the bell tolls, it tolls for thee.’ - John Donne.

MATCHBOX MAN

September, nineteen sixty-four,
drugs, sex, rock ‘n’ roll,
no computers, just typewriters,
homosexual relations illegal

On the night before his wedding,
a friend came to me and said
he so didn’t want to get married,
would be (far) better off dead

He needed a shoulder to cry on
(mine had always been there);
I could but do as I’d done before,
share the load of his despair

He slipped under my bed sheets,
a sheepish grin drying his tears
as we made love, slamming shut
the matchbox holding our fears

I hoped he might change his mind
but he was hell bent and didn’t,
just like he hoped I’d stay around,
and must have known I wouldn’t

October, two thousand and nine,
saw Bill in a gay bar going out,
chatting to a rent boy, slamming
the same old matchbox shut

[From: On The Battlefields Of Love by R N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Chalk and Cheese

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

What worth life without humour? What worth anything, for that matter? Oh and, yes, I include love and friendship.

What chance survival without a touch of humour?  Moreover, if you can't laugh at yourself, you're either unbearable or dead.

Now, today's poem has been requested by ‘Georges and Simon’ for Simon’s birthday today. It appears that the poem lends them a sense of déjà vu. Yes, well, it’s not only straight people who find out parties have consequences, some more than others. C'est la vie...

CHALK AND CHEESE

We met at a party and I recall thinking
how loudmouths should refrain from drinking;

as my turn came for a corny chat-up line, 

dissuading took a discreet knee in the groin;

at my home the next day, flowers arrived

that I ignored, Next, a phone call  with apologies,

asking for a date, the cheek of it!

We agreed to meet up for a meal, a fiasco

since we kept tripping over our tongues, finally 

resorting to silence, fat chance of a repeat

performance. Yet, try it again, we did, second time 

lucky, even enjoyed a picnic with champagne  

until it began pouring with rain, agreed it was best
we did not see each other again ...

Needless to say, our Here-and-Now is never boring;

I'm even learning to live with his snoring

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2017

[Note: An earlier version of this poem first appeared in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]