https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
It has always been and still is absurd to suggest there are no gay boys and girls awakening to their sexuality besides all the other teenage angst.
This poem was written in 1970, three years after homosexual relationships ‘in private, and between consenting adults’ were decriminalised here in the UK. I looked back then with a mixture or pain and pleasure. 40+ years on, I have much the same feelings. Yes, it was tough having to live a lie. [That is why I sympathise so with those who still do, for whatever reasons.] Yet, there was a strong sense of camaraderie among gay men in those long-ago days that gave me a powerful and much needed sense of belonging; it often seems to me that much of that is missing now. It was easier to talk to other gay men and make friends, whether it led to sex or not. No one assumed that striking up a conversation was necessarily a chat-up strategy.
I used to think it was just a generation gap thing, but a young blog reader (still at school) confided only recently that he wished more gay guys would see him and want to get to know him as a person, not just for sex. Mind you, he was talking about the Gay Scene I felt I should point out that it’s what the Gay Scene is all about...sex. There are still some great friendly gay bars and social groups where you can make friends and, well...who knows? In the old days, there were no gay social groups but the bars were easier to find because there were so few of them.
Seek (try the Internet) and ye shall find. Just be careful out there, though, yeah? Oh, and always trust you better instincts. Now, you like someone and they seem to like you? They invite you back to their place for the proverbial coffee but your head is saying one thing even while your nether regions are crying out for something else? Ah, well, in that case, it’s usually wiser if not safer to go home and jerk off instead. [Some things never change...]
EXTRACTS FROM A (GAY) SCHOOLBOY’S DIARY
All I asked was for love
to take me into its care,
keep me safe from the bigotry
I was finding everywhere;
little did I know of the ways
of love or how it likes to play
hide-and-seek or the false trails
it invariably lays
Desire, it played its part
and led me by the hand
to a secret place, hidden world
sanctuary for the damned;
I met up with other gay men
sharing all I’d imagined
for years, through tell-tale tears
on the stains in my bed
I discovered I was not evil
as defined by convention,
religion or morality as requiring
parental instruction;
I learned to recognise how
the crook of one finger
or a light in lowered eyes meant
come closer, closer...
So it was, my youth was a lie
a potpourri of self-denial
for meaningless sex acts in secret
that made me a criminal;
Yet, far more than cheap thrills
and passing balls, this journey
into sexuality showed me who I am
and was born to be
Came a day I didn’t need to lie
even saw convention bend
its rules, move on to kinder times,
some of that kindness spent
on gay people who want to be
free to live and love as they will
without others passing judgement
and moving in for the kill
Oh, but if kindness were all it takes
to make bigotry slam on its brakes!
Copyright R. N. Taber 1970; 2009
It has always been and still is absurd to suggest there are no gay boys and girls awakening to their sexuality besides all the other teenage angst.
This poem was written in 1970, three years after homosexual relationships ‘in private, and between consenting adults’ were decriminalised here in the UK. I looked back then with a mixture or pain and pleasure. 40+ years on, I have much the same feelings. Yes, it was tough having to live a lie. [That is why I sympathise so with those who still do, for whatever reasons.] Yet, there was a strong sense of camaraderie among gay men in those long-ago days that gave me a powerful and much needed sense of belonging; it often seems to me that much of that is missing now. It was easier to talk to other gay men and make friends, whether it led to sex or not. No one assumed that striking up a conversation was necessarily a chat-up strategy.
I used to think it was just a generation gap thing, but a young blog reader (still at school) confided only recently that he wished more gay guys would see him and want to get to know him as a person, not just for sex. Mind you, he was talking about the Gay Scene I felt I should point out that it’s what the Gay Scene is all about...sex. There are still some great friendly gay bars and social groups where you can make friends and, well...who knows? In the old days, there were no gay social groups but the bars were easier to find because there were so few of them.
Seek (try the Internet) and ye shall find. Just be careful out there, though, yeah? Oh, and always trust you better instincts. Now, you like someone and they seem to like you? They invite you back to their place for the proverbial coffee but your head is saying one thing even while your nether regions are crying out for something else? Ah, well, in that case, it’s usually wiser if not safer to go home and jerk off instead. [Some things never change...]
EXTRACTS FROM A (GAY) SCHOOLBOY’S DIARY
All I asked was for love
to take me into its care,
keep me safe from the bigotry
I was finding everywhere;
little did I know of the ways
of love or how it likes to play
hide-and-seek or the false trails
it invariably lays
Desire, it played its part
and led me by the hand
to a secret place, hidden world
sanctuary for the damned;
I met up with other gay men
sharing all I’d imagined
for years, through tell-tale tears
on the stains in my bed
I discovered I was not evil
as defined by convention,
religion or morality as requiring
parental instruction;
I learned to recognise how
the crook of one finger
or a light in lowered eyes meant
come closer, closer...
So it was, my youth was a lie
a potpourri of self-denial
for meaningless sex acts in secret
that made me a criminal;
Yet, far more than cheap thrills
and passing balls, this journey
into sexuality showed me who I am
and was born to be
Came a day I didn’t need to lie
even saw convention bend
its rules, move on to kinder times,
some of that kindness spent
on gay people who want to be
free to live and love as they will
without others passing judgement
and moving in for the kill
Oh, but if kindness were all it takes
to make bigotry slam on its brakes!
Copyright R. N. Taber 1970; 2009
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