Sunday 20 February 2011

Casual Sex And Candle Wax

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

Today's poem last appeared on the blog in September 2009 and prompted a number of wry comments. [Although I don't publish comments, I always read them and will reply if the person includes an email address.] 'Mikael' wrote that on a visit to London, 'Among all the wonderful tourist attractions, I vote Hampstead heath the best. By day it is very beautiful. By night, it has to be one of the most exciting places for a gay man to be.'

I heartily endorse those sentiments although, regarding the Heath at night and in the early hours, I have to say that I have not visited that part frequented by gay men looking for sex since I was a young man. I am now 65. These days, I enjoy strolling its rolling expanse of grassy slopes, taking in trees of all description, ponds and varieties of wildlife, simply for its peace and natural beauty. Even so, I remember them well, those feisty days of old...]

Now, if some gay men are promiscuous, they certainly don’t have a monopoly on promiscuity. It is no less prevalent among heterosexuals. Moreover, it has been my experience that those people always expressing their disapproval of casual sex are, just as often, those who enjoy it the most.

Casual sex happens. It is a fact of life. We should enjoy it. Certainly, it is nothing to get up on a soap box about. Even so, we owe it to ourselves and any sex partner to act responsibly, practise safer sex and use a condom. Nor is it only HIV-AIDS we have to guard against. The rise in various venereal diseases in recent years has been little short of astronomical, not least in chlamydia, which can result in infertility.

So…have fun but play safe, yeah?

CASUAL SEX AND CANDLE WAX

One day on Hampstead Heath
I met a nice man, hair turning grey,
knew instantly he was gay

We sat and watched spectacular
views of London dim at close of day,
keeping stars at bay

We said nothing, looks enough
to let heart and mind have their say
and in the grass we lay

Twilight gave way to feisty stars,
a benevolent moon had turned full on
at the altar of passion

Taking no chances, we risked all
for the bitter-sweet spoils of desire,
fighting fire with fire

His mouth was warm and tender,
our bodies sculptures crafted in wax,
flaring, melting...in sex

We parted, never to meet again,
but I‘d learned how to seize the day
and be, oh, so glad I’m gay

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007

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