http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
A new reader has been in touch to sat a friend recommended the blog and he is enjoying it. That's great. If you are enjoying a dip into the blog every now and then, do recommend to others. The more, the merrier.
Meanwhile...
A young reader has been in touch to say he sometimes feels suicidal because he is gay and ‘cannot tell anyone because no one will understand.’
As I would say to anyone feeling this way, none of us know how other people will react until we tell them. Not infrequently. in my experience, we make wrong assumptions. At the very least, I would urge making contact with any gay social/support groups. (Thank goodness for the Internet!) Alternatively, anyone can always contact me with an email address to which I can send a more detailed reply.
Now, this first little poem is not one of mine although I have slightly revised it appearance (without changing a word) and added a title. I spotted it way back in 1963 during my last year at school; it was on a scrap of notepaper pinned to a classroom door. I was reading it when a teacher came along, snatched it from my hand, glanced at it before tearing it into shreds and dropped them in a waste paper basket.
I have never been able to recall poems and recite them by rote, but I have never forgotten this one. Still struggling to come to terms with my sexuality as I was at the time (I was 17 years-old) it has made a huge impact on my life and poetry.
Sadly, I never discovered who wrote the poem, but if they are reading today’s post, it is high time I said a B-I-G thank you. Oh, purists may say it’s not much of a poem, but any piece of writing that affects any reader in a positive way, especially when he or she is feeling very negative, deserves credit where credit is well and truly due.
G-A-Y, STARTING OUT IN A WASTEPAPER BASKET
We are young, in love, and gay;
family and friends say, ‘No!’
We are young, in love, and gay;
neighbours (bigots) say, ‘No!'
We are young, in love, and gay,
the world’s cultures say, ‘No!’
We are young, in love, and gay,
and Mother Nature says, ‘Yes!’
L-O-V-E rules OK for everyone
comfortable with their sexuality
Anon. [Spring, 1963]
This second poem has appeared on my general blog but not on this one. Now seems as good a time as any to rectify that. In despair is a lonely, frightening place to be. Lucky indeed, is he or she who has never been there.
WOMAN IN GREEN
I sat by the sea contemplating suicide
when a woman in green came and sat by my side,
stayed quite still, didn’t say a word;
my head, it rang with a gull’s shrill cry
as if echoing the heart’s screaming to be left to die,
no hanging on to this useless body
The woman in green didn’t look at me
but continued to exude that youth, life and beauty
I’d once loved, become my enemy;
following her gaze to a misty horizon,
I entered into a way of seeing altogether unknown
where the sea wore a green velvet gown
Grey hair streaked with a sunset’s glow
above eyes as teasing a blue as those I used to know,
and pink lips urging me not to follow;
where once the sea, now a patch of grass
beneath an old tree on whose leaves of painted glass
nature would work its magic for us
Vanished, just as suddenly as it came,
knowing memories will keep murmuring your name
(sea of grass, leaves of glass, the same);
suddenly, I am bursting with a desire
to live (even love?) again, like an autumn leaf on fire,
its story all but told, waiting on another
I laughed aloud, forgetting the woman in green,
and turned to explain, but she had already gone
Copyright R. N. Taber 2011
A new reader has been in touch to sat a friend recommended the blog and he is enjoying it. That's great. If you are enjoying a dip into the blog every now and then, do recommend to others. The more, the merrier.
Meanwhile...
A young reader has been in touch to say he sometimes feels suicidal because he is gay and ‘cannot tell anyone because no one will understand.’
As I would say to anyone feeling this way, none of us know how other people will react until we tell them. Not infrequently. in my experience, we make wrong assumptions. At the very least, I would urge making contact with any gay social/support groups. (Thank goodness for the Internet!) Alternatively, anyone can always contact me with an email address to which I can send a more detailed reply.
Now, this first little poem is not one of mine although I have slightly revised it appearance (without changing a word) and added a title. I spotted it way back in 1963 during my last year at school; it was on a scrap of notepaper pinned to a classroom door. I was reading it when a teacher came along, snatched it from my hand, glanced at it before tearing it into shreds and dropped them in a waste paper basket.
I have never been able to recall poems and recite them by rote, but I have never forgotten this one. Still struggling to come to terms with my sexuality as I was at the time (I was 17 years-old) it has made a huge impact on my life and poetry.
Sadly, I never discovered who wrote the poem, but if they are reading today’s post, it is high time I said a B-I-G thank you. Oh, purists may say it’s not much of a poem, but any piece of writing that affects any reader in a positive way, especially when he or she is feeling very negative, deserves credit where credit is well and truly due.
G-A-Y, STARTING OUT IN A WASTEPAPER BASKET
We are young, in love, and gay;
family and friends say, ‘No!’
We are young, in love, and gay;
neighbours (bigots) say, ‘No!'
We are young, in love, and gay,
the world’s cultures say, ‘No!’
We are young, in love, and gay,
and Mother Nature says, ‘Yes!’
L-O-V-E rules OK for everyone
comfortable with their sexuality
Anon. [Spring, 1963]
This second poem has appeared on my general blog but not on this one. Now seems as good a time as any to rectify that. In despair is a lonely, frightening place to be. Lucky indeed, is he or she who has never been there.
WOMAN IN GREEN
I sat by the sea contemplating suicide
when a woman in green came and sat by my side,
stayed quite still, didn’t say a word;
my head, it rang with a gull’s shrill cry
as if echoing the heart’s screaming to be left to die,
no hanging on to this useless body
The woman in green didn’t look at me
but continued to exude that youth, life and beauty
I’d once loved, become my enemy;
following her gaze to a misty horizon,
I entered into a way of seeing altogether unknown
where the sea wore a green velvet gown
Grey hair streaked with a sunset’s glow
above eyes as teasing a blue as those I used to know,
and pink lips urging me not to follow;
where once the sea, now a patch of grass
beneath an old tree on whose leaves of painted glass
nature would work its magic for us
Vanished, just as suddenly as it came,
knowing memories will keep murmuring your name
(sea of grass, leaves of glass, the same);
suddenly, I am bursting with a desire
to live (even love?) again, like an autumn leaf on fire,
its story all but told, waiting on another
I laughed aloud, forgetting the woman in green,
and turned to explain, but she had already gone
Copyright R. N. Taber 2011
