Saturday 31 March 2012

For (Another) Lost Soldier

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

Too often, I hear people discussing the whole idea of gay men and women in the armed forces with utter contempt. As regular readers of my books and/or blogs will know, I express my frustration and anger in poems from my earliest to latest collections. 

In some countries, it is no longer illegal to be gay in the armed forces, but gay men and women serving at home and overseas have told me they still need to keep quiet about their sexuality or colleagues (and commanders) would make their lives unbearable. One soldier told me he married a lesbian so they could keep up appearances and carry on with jobs they love doing, and do well, while secretly assuming the lifestyle nature intended for them. It is an appalling indictment on a so-called 'civilised' society.

So what has courage, skill and taking life-threatening risks on a daily basis got to do with sexuality, eh?

FOR (ANOTHER) LOST SOLDIER

Once, summer tapped
me on the shoulder,
murmured in my ear,
and when I turned
I saw a soldier - in full
uniform

Asked the way to heaven
knows where - but
I hardly caught a word
as the full curve
of his mouth cut me
like a sword

Voice teasing, haunting
eyes like an owl’s
ripping at my clothes,
baring the soul...
I gladly surrendered
my all

A woman took his arm,
smiled with the charm
of Eve at Adam’s side;
the soldier winked
as they moved on - and
I sighed

He hadn’t lied

Copyright R, N. Taber 2002; 2012

[Note: This poem has been (very) slightly revised from the original as it appeared in an anthology, Where Your Thoughts Take You, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2003 following publication of First Person Plural by R. N. Taber. 2002.]

Friday 30 March 2012

On the Battlefields of Love

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

Wherever we are in the world, boy or girl, man or woman, and whatever our sexuality, it is a basic human right to fall in love and (hopefully) be loved in return.

Love, though, takes all shapes and forms, and it has to be said that lovers do not have a monopoly.

At the same time, who can deny that, for lovers, it is a way of life, and only a narrow-minded bigot would express such a denial regarding gay people?

Life is often a mental as well as a physical battlefield, but to love goes the last word and final victory, never judging and never, but never discriminating along lines of colour, creed, sex or sexuality. 

Sexuality has to be in the genes; there is no other explanation for gay people across the world, from all manner of socio-cultural-religious backgrounds. 

So why do so many people continue to resist the notion that there is nothing 'unnatural' about being gay?  In my experience, the heterosexual majority is very defensive when challenged n the subject of homophobia, it disturbs their comfort zone. Invariably, they resort to that old stand-by 'it is what it is' and we must make of that what we will.

I am reminded of a comment by physicist Stephen Hawking: 'The greatest enemy of knowledge is not ignorance, it is the illusion of knowledge.'

Whatever, thank goodness love, at least, doesn't give a damn about sexuality.

 ON THE BATTLEFIELDS OF LOVE 

There is a gene amongst others
that scares fathers, concerns mothers,
while (still) gay people everywhere
crying out for them in desperation to care,
cave in to love

Whatever ethnicity, gender, creed,
it is on love that families should feed;
where faith a mask for hypocrisy,
religions often found guilty. pitting dogma
against humanity

Gay people have every right to be
free of cultural prejudices and bigotry
making us feel we must defend
our sexuality to the bitter end, its casualties
notwithstanding

It’s good to be open, honest, true,
but what are gay people supposed to do
when love for family put on the line,
urging us to redefine ourselves by imposing
impossible choices?

If faith in a God fills heart and soul,
how can gay people expect to reconcile
teachings of universal love and peace
with examples holy leaders choose to enforce
this or that dogma?

We can but follow love’s golden rules,
(if made to carry its burdens like mules)
in a common humanity put our trust,
shake off its nemeses like dust, human nature
its own worst enemy

Copyright R N Taber,  2010, rev. 2019

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love (without an alternative title) by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]






Wednesday 28 March 2012

Ode to a School Cap

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

There is probably at least one gay/transgender boy or girl in every school, struggling with their personal identity while unable to articulate on it and/or no one with whom they can share a growing 
sense of personal crisis. Yet, LGBT issues are rarely (if ever) openly discussed as part of a structured programme embracing social issues. 

Few schools approach teaching and class discussion about sex and relationships very well; among even among those that do, little (if anything) is said that is meaningful to a young person, probably struggling with an emerging sense of sexuality along with various other anxieties and frustrations every teenager has to endure.

Time and again, young gay people have contacted me to say there is no one they can talk to about gay issues. Yes, I can (and do) recommend support groups while offering as much reassurance and support myself as I can, also answering their questions with frankness and sensitivity. Even so, I am a stranger and, yes, it can be easier to talk to a stranger but it is better still to talk to a close friend or family member who can be there for you with advice and a hug 24/7.

It is absurd that in the 21st century, many gay people still feel there is a stigma attached to being gay that prevents them openly discussing it with family, peers or teachers. Meanwhile, homophobia persists among those who continue to take outdated, misleading and often offensive stereotypes that plague gay people - especially gay men - as read. [Leaders of the world's religions, please note.]

Yes, I know the less enlightened members of a predominantly heterosexual society continue to give lesbians a hard time. Even so, gay women are less likely to be accused a paedophilia than gay men (even though most paedophiles are heterosexual); they are less likely to be physically abused for their sexuality or verbally abused for spreading the HIV-AIDS virus (as happened to me only recently).

I guess the bottom line is that many if not most heterosexual men and women (especially men) still feel they should be appalled by sexual acts between two men. This has always been a mystery to me as I know straight couples who get up to all sorts in bed...

Is it any wonder that a significant number of gay boys choose to stay in the closet? Not only in the southern hemisphere either. I read not so long ago about two girls at a church school in the US who were excluded for being in a lesbian relationship.Faith schools need to get real about gay issues! Being gay doesn't make us any less of a human being, for goodness sake.

Male or female, it may be a lot easier to be gay than when I was young…but it sure ain’t easy, even now, half a century on…

I recorded this poem for my YouTube channel some time ago so am repeating the video here today as well (see below); especially for 'Joe' who asked why I never read poems on a gay theme there. [I have read several, but I don't think of myself as a 'gay poet', just a poet who also happens to be gay and will tackle any theme. You can access my YouTube channel at: 

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

and this poem at: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IgU0lpyCQcs  read and posted on my 65th birthday, December 21st 2010.

ODE TO A SCHOOL CAP

On a pebbly shore observing the sea
about to snatch an abandoned deckchair,
I wonder…do you ever think of me,
snatching at my cap, fingers in my hair?

A breeze, come evening, laughing at us,
shadow fingers masturbating, a bliss
sure to catch us out under summer skies,
a passing cloud witnessing our first kiss

No one ever guessed why you went away
across a sea that calls me with your voice;
much as I loved you, implored you to stay,
each kiss but postponing a time of choice

Not ready then to tell the world I’m gay,
left letting its tides snatch my cap away

[From: Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]





Sunday 25 March 2012

A Good Sign

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

I felt truly inspired once, some years ago now, watching two deaf gay men signing that they liked each other in a crowded Soho gay bar. I am significantly but by no means profoundly deaf, and cannot sign very well, but did not need to; it was obvious what was happening in any language. 

I was cruising on my own (and getting nowhere fast, as we do sometimes) and felt very humbled by these two guys as well as delighted for them. There was I, fretting because no one was showing any interest in me and fast developing something of an inferiority complex, and here were these two guys showing me how it’s done by the sheer force of their personalities. From where I was standing, they lit up the whole bar and put the rest of us in the shade.

I know some deaf and partially deaf people don’t consider deafness a disability. I do, if only for all the stress it has caused me since early childhood. Deaf people have their own culture, and hearing people feel part of a community they often take for granted. Significant, but not total hearing loss means you belong to neither. For years, I felt a strong sense of exclusion in so far as everyone else gave me an impression of ‘belonging’ in a way with which I could not easily identify. As a child, I had neither the experience nor articulation to understand I was partially deaf; pitch or perceptive deafness is particularly confusing as so much depends on acoustics as well as the pitch of a person’s voice and, of course, whether or not they are facing you; lip reading - conscious or not - is a necessary skill for hearing impaired people.

I learned to rise above my hearing loss and compensate for it. Even so, when I finally acquired hearing aids when I was 40 years-old, it made a huge difference to my quality of life. Even now, I can’t help thinking how much greater my learning experience at school and university would have been if I hadn’t been struggling to hear all the time.

Disabled people invariably have an uncanny knack and inner strength for rising above their disability. Sometimes I think we focus too much on the disability and forget the person doggedly rising above it. They have the same aspirations and desires as the rest of us; among them, many gay men and women. 

Gay people are often made to feel excluded if not always intentionally from mainstream society. Imagine how it must be for a disabled gay person.

I slept with a disabled guy once who was wheelchair bound. I liked him at once, but hadn’t considered anything else until he gave me a long, searching look, a huge knowing smile and informed me that he was missing two legs, but there was nothing wrong with the third and his bum was the original. We went back to his place, and had a great time. It was one of my few truly unforgettable one-night stands. (Most of the others were already a distant memory the next day.)

A GOOD SIGN

White tee, blue eyes,
cruising a gay bar, looks around 
as he orders...

Settles on green eyes
lit with the kind of smile
an angel would gladly
die again for, crosses to sit
nearby and shyly
nods a ‘hello’ but - no reply
so gets up to go,
Green Eyes running fingers
through golden hair,
full lips pursed, exposing
a hairy chest,
stretching a downy leg
in lycra shorts...
(Blue, slowly drowning
in wildest thoughts...)
“I’m deaf,” he says quietly
in the queerest voice,
clearly making up his mind,
staking his choice;
Blue grins, winks, signs
that he’s also
up for a close encounter
of the intimate kind

Among lonely hearts
in a crowded Soho dive, two pairs
of hands come alive

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002, 2012

[Note: Soho has been a very gay-friendly area of central London (UK) for many years. An earlier version of this poem appears in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Thursday 22 March 2012

Going By The Book

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

While I do not subscribe to any religion, neither do I doubt that ‘God’ is no homophobe. It is a very foolish person that will tell you otherwise, someone with but a tenuous grasp on the basic precepts of religion; peace and love.  [What is all the ritual really worth without either?] 

Too many people choose to interpret the various Holy Books for their own bigoted ends while others prefer to court popularity by presenting an apparently united front that has to be hypocrisy at its very worst. 

GOING BY THE BOOK

I stood at the Gates of Love
asking to be let in;
a security guard refused,
said I’d committed a sin
and he could not see his way
to admitting someone
openly, unashamedly, gay

I stood at the Gates of Love
demanding to be let in,
wanting to know just why
such as I should be
refused entry now or ever
because of such bigotry
this whole, sorry world over

I stood at the Gates of Love
pleading to be let in
but, unmoved by my tears,
the security guard insisted
he hadn‘t the slightest intention
of opening up to someone
daring to question convention

I stood at the Gates of Love,
about to turn away
when I heard a firm voice say,
‘Open the gate
and let him in immediately.
Love has no quarrel
with colour, creed or sexuality.’

I entered the Gates of Salvation,
its Voice seeking no explanation


Copyright R. N. Taber 1964; 2010 

[Note: This poem was written in 1964, rediscovered and slightly revised in 2010.]

Wednesday 21 March 2012

A Contemporary Take on Greek Gods and Everyday Heroes

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

[Update, June 8th 2019: Well I am still here after three more years of hormone therapy driving me up the proverbial wall. Only, now I have arthritis to deal with as well, in my left foot where I fractured the ankle after a bad fall in 2011 and also in my neck. I manage both okay(ish) but it ain't easy as the hormone therapy not only makes me want to pee umpeen times day and night but also affects my memory and, latterly, my whole personality in the sense that I make mountains out of molehills where I used to things in my stride. The blogs help. As well as enjoying the company of readers from 65+ different countries, writing them acts as a form of creative therapy that encourages my old self to stay alive and kicking. I did get upset when a reader contacted me to say he had seen my gay-interest blog called 'sick' (again) on social media, but not for long; it takes all sorts to make a world, warts 'n' all. Being gay is as much a part of me as being human while being human makes me as free a spirit as anyone which, in my case, also makes me a poet with a responsibility, as I see it, to draw on nature and human nature in all its shapes and forms. I rest my case...]

Now, today’s poem proved popular with readers when I posted it here in 2010 so I have included it in my new collection, Tracking the Torchbearer. Mind you, someone did contact me to say ‘there is nothing heroic about being gay, it is sick.’ [If he had understood the poem, he would realise I am not saying that anyway.] That person is of course entitled to his opinion. many of my poems, though, are inclined to suggest there are few things sicker than trying to make a virtue of ignorance. I do not use social media, but he is welcome to  contact me at rogertab@aol.co.uk if he cares to give me the right of reply.

Oh, but what we gay men and women owe the Ancient Greeks, especially perhaps we arty-farty types!

Me, I’ve always been fascinated by tales of Ancient Greece, convinced since a teenager that I was born in the wrong place and the wrong century ...

A CONTEMPORARY TAKE ON GREEK GODS AND EVERYDAY HEROES

Like a Greek god risen from the sea,
naked but for trunks coloured red,
he demanded I accept my sexuality

He prised loose my grip on ‘morality’
to embrace erotic icons in my head,
like a Greek god risen from the sea,

Fighting nature’s cause magnificently,
crossing the sand, not a word said,
he demanded I accept my sexuality

His beauty set a fever raging in me
(where sex on desire hungrily fed)
like a Greek god risen from the sea

Content to let Apollo dry his fine body,
sprawled close by on a towel bed,
he demanded I accept my sexuality

The full lips parted, oh, so invitingly
as he left, knowing I followed…
Risen like a Greek god from the sea,
he demanded I accept my sexuality

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010, 2012

[Note: This poem first appears under the title 'A Twenty-first Century take on Greek Gods and Everyday Heroes' in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

Saturday 17 March 2012

Mission Impossible

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

Oh, but life is full of the most delightful surprises at the most unexpected times ... 

Various socio-cultural-religious forces in societies worldwide may well may do their best to deter mind-body-spirit, but the better part of human nature will always find a way to rise above them wherever necessary and bring us to the Crossroads of Decision.

MISSION IMPOSSIBLE

We were simply watching TV
and I thought little of it
as you put an arm around me
but lay my head
against you, got comfortable
till a hand tilted my chin,
launching me there and then
on Mission Impossible

I saw a passion in your eyes
I’d never see before
as your lips homed in on mine
for a first kiss
but I wasn’t sure I wanted this
so turned my head away,
even managing to splutter
I wasn’t gay

Your face red with shame,
tears in your eyes
telling tales on frustrated desires
you’d kept from me,
I wasn’t sure I wanted to know
about such things,
but couldn’t run away, knew
I had to stay

I saw hope flare in your face
in spite of the tears;
suddenly, you had me pinioned
against a plump cushion,
my poor heart thumping madly
as your quivering lips
found their target this time
if clumsily

Your mouth on mine warmer,
sweeter than I imagined
another boy’s mouth could be,
I silently confessed - to
wet dreams about you for years,
drooling over your body
in the showers after Games
or P E

The weight of your body lighter,
your kiss less determined,
I felt your confusion burning
a hole in my shirt,
struggled to reason why my mind
should resist this being kissed
that was, after all, but answering
a cry from the heart

You retreating, expressions
of guilt and pain
reasserting senses I’d tried
to ignore,
I flung my arms around you
and drew you close,
free at last to relish the joy
of mutual response

We made love on a fluffy rug
(he’d brought a condom)
till all we wanted to do was lie
in each other’s arms,
no more lies or even words,
just an intimate silence
saying more than even lovers
can express

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




Friday 16 March 2012

Hymn to Love

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

In my experience, there is a spiritual element in all love relationship - whatever shape or form it takes - that neither discriminates nor has anything to do with religion; no one excluded. whatever their age, colour, religion, sex or sexuality.

As probably the finest expression of common humanity, it remains a common human tragedy that the love of one human being for another is far too often found to be in relatively short supply in various parts of the world, and - worse still - even closer to home. Indeed, some lessons are never too late for the learning ... especially by the world's religions. I am thankful to have met a few religious minded people - from all walks of life - who see neither love nor religion as closed shops, but will open their hearts to anyone ... or I would be even more cynical of (any) religion than I have been since childhood way back in the 1950's. 

This poem is a villanelle.

HYMN TO LOVE

Fairest of flowers
found in spring’s garden,
this love of ours

No ivory towers
but temples of passion,
fairest of flowers

Pride in colours
by nature freely given,
this love of ours

Like spring hours
from winter’s grave risen;
fairest of flowers

Temporal powers
may rage but cannot ruin
this love of ours

Where bigotry cowers,
begs Earth Mother’s pardon;
fairest of flowers,
this love of ours

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

Monday 12 March 2012

G-A-Y, Anthem Played On A Grass Harp

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

A reader once asked if I had 'any gay poems about spring’ to share. Well, yes, although life, love, and nature are evergreen.

After winter, spring...

Love, too, invariably runs the gamut of its seasons. Yet, after a winter of the heart such as all victims of bigotry and prejudice worldwide are made to suffer, the human body, mind and spirit will always find new hope in a sense of living free; a lasting springtime such as the perpetrators of their suffering will never know.

G-A-Y, ANTHEM PLAYED ON A GRASS HARP

Watery sun dripping through trees,
leaves glistening like jewels in a crown
where we wandered, my love and I,
listening for a chick’s first cry, watching
others flapping on their first flight
through twilight’s occasional rainbows
till gliding with ease as nature meant
for us all though, among humans, some
who know better go their own way,
would even refuse precious moments
to lovers if they happen to be gay

On a fine carpet of many colours,
among fairies often mistaken for daisies,
in a palace of dreams we strolled free,
where prejudices and bigotry mean less,
far less, than a fair breeze in the face,
Earth Mother’s gentle caress in the hair
reminding us that we are each of us
how she intended, that no one creature
matters more or less than another
in her eyes, for we are all her children
though she relate to a weepy sun

We arrived where the carpet turned
into stone, leading where no sun shining,
only The Shadow gathering its forces
preparing to take us on, resolved to win
any war we choose to fight, whether
we’re right or wrong since (isn’t it as clear
as day?) the world has no room for men
and women who are gay since, whatever
the moral spectrum, convention must
join forces with religion to make a stand,
like a ship of fools in a gale force wind

Spring in our hair like jewels in the crown
love takes for its own

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

Sunday 11 March 2012

It's No Different If You're Gay

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

Straight and gay friends alike have told me how they thought they had found the love of their lives, only to discover that all he or she wanted was sex.

Now, I'm not knocking sex, but so many of us are in love with the idea of falling in love, and good sex can be very persuasive.  Love, though, now that's something else, and if sex was good before, love adds a whole new dimension and meaning. There is a whole lot more to love than good sex. Believe me, I know...

Loss, grief, pain, love, relief, happiness, joy...all are feelings common to everyone.

I can only say (and should not need to) that...

IT’S NO DIFFERENT IF YOU’RE GAY

Sunshine threw a veil across the sea,
keeping you from me
as we shared the heat of frantic kisses
in anxious embraces;
lithe limbs, every contour of your face,
I dared trace…
among the smouldering ashes of noon,
promises made at dawn

Against your body’s rhythmic heaving,
the poetry of leave-taking
exploded love’s bitter-sweetness in me
(myth v reality?);
Clouds, like exhausted lovers sprawled
on a water bed
turned to the mechanics of bland gesture
signifying bad weather

We put into harbour barely interacting
with each other,
you so distant, anxious to drop anchor
and dash ashore;
a storm broke, but unexpectedly mild,
like the tears of child,
for no better reason than a desire to cry
as did I…

There would be other lovers, other times,
and other poems;
more storms, too, I could be sure of that
and keep a look-out;
yet, if that day on the water played tricks
on me with sex
I took for love, I’d learned the hard way,
it’s no different if you’re gay
  
[From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Saturday 10 March 2012

Let The Music Play

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

Today’s poem is a kenning and last appeared on the blog during the spring of 2010. It was less well received when I posted it on my general blog, but I have read it at poetry readings around the UK and the response from by mixed gay/straight audiences = especially young people - has always been very encouraging.

Now, sexuality is neither a conditioning process nor a deliberate lifestyle choice. Anyone with a grain of common sense realises that it has to be in the genes if only because it’s the only way to account for gay people world-wide from all manner of socio-cultural-religious backgrounds and persuasions.

Even if I were not gay I’m certain I’d have reached the same conclusion. There is nothing unnatural about being gay; on the contrary, it is but one among many to be found in nature’s mixed bag of blessings we call humanity.

Wherever we are stigmatised or demonised for being gay, you will find foolish, ignorant people so in love with the sound of their own voices that they have little or no understanding or respect for meaning. Fortunately, though, there will always be those among the heterosexual majority with a penchant for enlightenment and passion for humanity that will prevail, as it has for centuries, if not always when, as individuals, we need it most.  

LET THE MUSIC PLAY 

I creep up on you as time passes by;
you sense my presence but unsure
how or why it should make you feel
different from the way you thought
you were (as told) not so many years
before, when childhood games took
their cue from history, the mysteries
of adulthood waiting in the wings
for its mortal gamut to be run

I seize upon your senses as they wake
to the challenges of peer pressure,
parental expectations, private desires
lighting fires in the heart, ambition
conspiring with aspiration to indulge
the mind its appetite for a fate far better
than mapped out at school or around
the kitchen table. Yet, I too, am here
and you less able to suss me out?

I will pluck at your nerve strings until
you recognise the tune I play and let
it loose on heart, mind, body and soul
though (for a while at least) you share it
with no one, unsure how. Now, choose.
Play out the most beautiful song you will
ever hear or let me go, follow a safer
course, give ambition (or convention?)
a stronger, louder (better?) voice
Only, listen to the music and let it play,
this gene that says, “I’m gay.”

[From: Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]

Friday 9 March 2012

Tea For Two OR Pink Underwear

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

Although 600+ poems have appeared in various poetry publications worldwide (not including my collections) few of these have been on a gay theme. Today's poem is one of the few, first published in an anthology So Starts A New Beginning, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2001 and subsequently in my collection the following year.

Chance meetings of a romantic nature are comparatively rare. But, oh, the thrill and adrenaline rush when a special someone steps out of a daydream into our lives for real. It may or may not be the start of something big, but ...who cares?   GO FOR IT.

TEA FOR TWO or PINK UNDERWEAR

Stirring my tea, brooding
about my life,
wishing things different;
less angst and despair,
more hope, love and peace
on Earth, everywhere

Suddenly, a hand took mine,
“I say, you’re spilling
your tea!” I looked up, glaring
and found myself
staring….into eyes as blue
as a picture postcard sea,
and all I could do was grin
(somewhat foolishly)
and try to ignore…nipples
pricking his shirt,
making ripples down
my spine, bringing a lump
to my throat, full lips
teasing mine…with a smile
like a burst of sunshine
on a cloudy day set on chasing
the world's cares away

I let him wrap me in velvet,
pocket my dreams
in his jeans as we left,
still chatting away
much as old friends will do,
and seizing the day

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002

[Note: This poem first appears in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002]

Thursday 8 March 2012

G-A-Y, Among Flowers


Some people continue to see gay men and women as weeds in the Garden of Life. Naturally, I beg to differ, and might add that I would have done so even were I not a gay man.

One reason I write poetry is because I have a passionate affinity with an increasingly rare humanity that does not discriminate against its own, despite some societies earnestly paying lip service to equality for the sake of appearances (and votes).

G-A-Y, AMONG FLOWERS 

Like flowers, their petals shut,
lives of so many men and women
for whom our world cares not

Like flowers, fair buds asleep
new friends we're getting to know,
good times to have and keep

Like flowers dawn waits to kiss
(Fairy tale images in sweet dreams)
for a season they dare not miss 

Like flowers, fine petals open up
(Earth Mother sharing out due credit)
to drink of a heaven’s loving cup 

Like bulbs failing all expectation,
we, too, may yet be expected to carry
the weepy stigma of rejection 

Like flowers, reaching for the sky,
come sun or rain, our seasons passing,
we’ll yet lift our heads held high


 Copyright R. N. Taber 2007, 2012

 











Wednesday 7 March 2012

Window Last Seen Clinging To A Leaf

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

Is anyone really convinced by those well-heeled members of various societies in the northern hemisphere who love nothing better than to tell us, ‘Ah, but we have equality now...’

Equality, bollocks! Tell that to most women or gay folks or people so often patronised (or worse) for their ethnic origins. Political correctness is all very well but two words won’t put the world right in a hurry even if token gestures do a damn good job of keeping up appearances.

On the face of things, the 21st century is progressing well, even in a southern hemisphere as blighted by socio-cultural-religious bigotry as by poverty, not forgetting corruption in high and not so high places.

Meanwhile...

When I write love poems, my thoughts always turn to my late partner. Maybe this is why I physically ached for the person who inspired this poem. His partner had been killed on active service only weeks earlier, but he was warned by immediate family to stay away from the funeral in case anyone should get ‘the wrong idea.'

WINDOW, LAST SEEN CLINGING TO A LEAF

The moon is full and stars are shining
for our lovemaking on a gilt edged leaf
clinging fast to my bedroom window

Your lips are full and eyes are shining
as your lips descend on mine for a kiss,
remains of a lifetime of false hopes

Fighting a good fight with expressions
of love that deserves better than defeat
by armies raised by and allied to bigots

Hearts so full, they can but spill over
into hands making ready a vat of tears,
battle for peace of mind already lost

Our lovemaking as splendid a farewell
as ever a leaf took from a branch, its tree
no match for relentless autumn winds

You went away to fight another war
where being gay might matter to some
but not to those carrying your coffin

The moon is full and stars are shining
for our lovemaking on a gilt edged leaf
left in pieces at my bedroom window

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

Monday 5 March 2012

Born Gay, Born Free

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

An Indian student once commented on this poem that first appeared on the blog in 2009. He printed it out to show some gay friends back home in India. He told me, ‘Gay men in the West are so lucky that you can be openly gay without being subjected to abuse. In my country, a person’s sexuality may be the worst kept secret, but a secret it has to remain.’

Oh, we may not always feel as free as we would like here in the West as everyone’s behaviour and movements are more and more closely monitored and/or targeted; by increasingly technological  means, and no less questionable for that. 

But, yes, we should never take what freedom we have for granted. Nor should we forget it is our birthright, not some almighty favour dished out to us (or repressed, as the case may be) by this society or that.  

This poem is a villanelle.

BORN GAY, BORN FREE

Born gay, born free,
it will see me through,
a bold spirit in me

Taking love’s journey
as it would have us do,
born gay, born free

No time for secrecy
preferring out and true,
a bold spirit in me

Making sure bigots see
a right to points of view
born gay, born free

Theirs is the tragedy,
who refuse credence to
a bold spirit in me

Investing in humanity
where equality overdue;
born gay, born free,
a bold spirit in me

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008