Wednesday 9 February 2011

Come, Fly with Me

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

Several readers have asked when I intend to record more of my poems for You Tube. Well, soon I hope as I especially want to record something for LGBT History Month. However, Graham, my close fiend and cameraman works full-time so is not often available and I have been unable to get anyone else interested.

For those of you who may be interested but haven’t yet seen and heard my capers on You Tube:

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber 

We only do it for fun (and that includes heading straight for the nearest pub afterwards) but hopefully people will enjoy our efforts. I will be posting more on You Tube throughout the year, weather and cameraman availability permitting.

Meanwhile...

A college lecturer responded to today’s poem after it first appeared on the blog in April 2009 by saying that, he could find nothing to recommend it academically but it would always be a personal favourite of his ‘because it encouraged me to be openly gay at long last to family, friends, colleagues and students at the ripe old age of 52.’ Apparently someone left a printout on his desk. Now, I wonder who...?

As backhanded compliments go, it has to be one of the nicest I have ever received. Who really cares about academia anyway? It is real life and real people that really count. Yes, we can read and learn about them - and I, for one, thoroughly enjoyed doing so at the University of Kent in Canterbury in the early 1970's - but it is too easy to get so wrapped up in scholarly criticism that we lose our grip on life’s priorities; worse, we can even lose sight of who we really are in a foggy landscape of words  to which we relate, yes, but not always on a personal level given that they emanate from someone else's consciousness. As fascinating, meaningful and impressive as the latter may be, we need to take care that we do not mistake someone else's learning curve for our own, and - sooner or later - take a tumble.

Years ago, I joined a bus queue and found myself standing next to a dour, straight-laced neighbour in his mid-40's who engaged me in conversation. (An unusual occurrence.) He asked me if I genuinely believed a gay person can experience true love. (I ask you, how daft a question is that?) I retorted to the effect that heterosexuals don't have a monopoly on love. He looked somewhat taken aback before bursting into an wide, very uncharacteristic smile and wandering off without another word. The next time I saw him was at a gay bar in Soho, dancing with another guy and plainly enjoying himself...

COME, FLY WITH ME

Some say our love is wrong,
can only end in tears,
as on wings of glorious song
we rise above their fears

Home, school, church, work,
may tolerate us - or worse;
Love’s light shines in our dark
to spite convention’s curse

No matter what the world says,
anxious to keep face,
those who know and care for us
will keep it in its place

No sticks and stones that hurt us
can reach where the heart is...

[From: A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005]

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