Out In the Country

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

When I was 14 years-old, my family relocated from my home town to a new housing estate in the countryside. Much as I love visiting the countryside, I hated living there and was glad to leave within a year or so of leaving school. I hated everyone else feeling they had a right to know everyone else’s business. It was hard to keep any secrets.

So you can imagine what it was like for a gay lad, having to keep his sexuality a secret not only from family and friends, but also from the whole estate and original (delightful) village of which it was an eyesore of an extension! Gay relationships were illegal in the UK until 1967, the year I was 22.]

So I have been pleased to hear from gay people who come out in the country and been accepted by local people although I have to say that, on the whole, I hear the opposite. The majority of gay men and women living in rural areas, in the UK as well as worldwide, still feel they must keep their sexuality a secret. I dare say they suffer much the same torment as I did all those years ago.

When, oh, when will everyone realise that sexuality is only a part of who we are, and a very private part; it is no one else’s damn business? We are human beings like everyone else who have as much to offer our local communities as anyone, and don't deserve to be stigmatised simply because too few among the heterosexual majority understand what it means to be gay or some (if not most) religious groups are intrinsically homophobic. I should not have to be saying this in the 21^st century, for goodness sake. It should be taken for granted.  Oh, but I wish...

Why, oh, why do so many people worldwide continue to believe the many outdated, misleading and generally offensive stereotypes that continue to attach themselves to gay and transgender men and women? 

Yes, we have pro-gay legislation in some part of the world, but anti-gay legislation in others. Besides, as I have often said on the blogs, you cannot legislate for bad attitude.  Where schools and colleges refuse to go out of their way to educate these people, I guess all we can do is try and lead by example and hope for the best.  True, it's not enough. It's nowhere near enough. But what else can we do? 

OUT IN THE COUNTRY

He asked me to dance

on the village green;

I jumped at the chance

Though neighbours askance

(some thought it obscene)

he asked me to dance

Forget all that token stuff

about poufs on-screen?

I jumped at the chance

Band playing by chance

our favourite tune,

he asked me to dance

Measuring every advance,

treasuring each joining-in;

I jumped at the chance

A subtle rush to ring-fence

(unsuitable for children?);

He asked me to dance,

I jumped at the chance

Copyright R N Taber 2005

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

At Freedom's Call

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

This post appears at the request of a young man living in Europe and afraid for many friends back home in his native Uganda who live in constant fear or persecution, prison and worse. I have expressed his fears better in other poems, but this is the one he chose because, as he puts it so succinctly,  'everyone has a right to love, no exceptions...'

Gay Rights have come a long way in the West since I was young, but we still have a long way to go before everyone achieves sufficient maturity and sense of fair play to recognise that we are just ordinary people with a positive a contribution to make to contemporary society as anyone else. [Religious fundamentalists and intrinsically homophobic clerics please take note...and grow up!] Uganda, of course,  is just one of many African countries where the repression of and attacks on gay people are a public disgrace to humanity. What makes it all so much worse is that this attitude is encouraged and promoted by radical evangelicals who claim to speak for God. Well, that just goes to show how dangerous ignorance can be since the New Testament and Holy writings associated with other religions assure us that God is Love and love does not discriminate in this way, certainly Jesus of Nazareth never would. I may be non-religious, but I feel very strongly that the way some 'middle management' religious leaders take it upon themselves to misinterpret central aspects of religion for their own bigoted ends.

We are all, each and every one of us, entitled to be free of the shackles of various socio-cultural-religious prejudices  worldwide.

Here's looking forward to the day when gay people around the world are free to express their sexuality without fear of persecution from the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority.

AT FREEDOM’S CALL

Once I played among green hills in summer,

listening to songbirds, watching them fly,

running free, hand in hand with my gay lover

our dream, like a kite, reaching for the sky

In purple hills, come autumn’s reds and gold,

I saw birds winging free of winter’s threat,

leaves painting pictures of we two grown old,

our dream, like a kite, playing hard to get

Once I walked in white hills at winter’s call,

heard a robin sing in a tree stripped bare,

nor did it flinch or fly off at the first snowfall,

our dream, like a kite, returning us there

If summer short, autumn brief, winter dead,

be love’s eternal spring taken as read

  

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

Pink in the Frame OR L-O-V-E, where Life forces Come in all Colours

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

Some readers may be interested in the latest video (Salisbury Cathedral) that my close friend Graham has beautifully shot for YouTube and for which I have written and read a new poem.  

Although I do not subscribe to any religion, it doesn’t mean I have any less love for the architecture of many religious edifices; for much of religious music, too, even if I cannot relate the words of hymns and other songs of praise. 

An eye and feeling for beauty are unconditional, surely? 

Nature offers a sense of spirituality with no strings attached; the same cannot be said for religion.  As for God, who's to say God and nature are not one and the same? me, I cannot believe in a personified God, yet I see nature as a metaphor for a force for good that has to come close, surely? I count myself as neither atheist nor agnostic, just a poet who also happens to be gay, and others are free to make of that what they will. 

If interested, you can access video and poem at my YouTube channel:

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

as well as my general blog today:

http://rogertab.blogspot.com/

Meanwhile...

This poem has not appeared on the blog since 2010, and I am repeating it today especially for ‘Marie’ and her partner ‘Aileen’ who contacted me a while ago to say they ‘really like it’.  I always love to hear from readers so thanks for that. Regular readers will know that the reason I don’t post comments is that it is, after all, a poetry blog, and I feel they can distract from the poem. Even so, anyone is free to contact me about anything at my email address, which is why I included it in the blog’s Introduction.

This the poem is one of many in which I try to convey something of an enduring sense of spirituality that nature has always given me since early childhood and for which I have looked for but never found in religion. 

PINK, IN THE FRAME or L-O-V-E, WHERE LIFE FORCES COME IN ALL COLOURS

Yellow, like bright sunshine on spring flowers;

such is the colour of love

Green, like summer leaves dancing on a breeze;

such is the colour of love

Sometimes turning a reddish gold, growing old;

such is the colour of love

Sometimes gone grey, like our ashes in a hearth;

such is the colour of love

White, like virgin snow on nature’s fine promises;

such is the colour of love

Pink, like dawn’s gay chorus or sunset’s shy blush;

such, too, is the colour of love

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

O-U-T

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

There is a closet some people choose or are forced to live in. The longer we stay in that cold, dark place, the stranger it can feel at first when we find the courage (and growing self-confidence) to come out into the open.  Any sense of self-consciousness, though,  is quickly overtaken by a quiet pride, growing self-confidence and inner euphoria.

Regular readers will know I believe very strongly that the decision to be openly gay is a matter of personal choice. Sadly, some gay people live under repressive regimes and don’t have that choice. Others chose not to rock the family boat for various socio-cultural-religious reasons. However, make no mistake, coming out sets an example from which other closet gay boys and girls, men and women, can take heart, and hopefully find the inner strength to follow.

I had spent many years as a tormented youth and young man in the closet during the 1960s and early-mid 1970s before I finally emerged into daylight never to return.  It took a severe nervous breakdown to make me see I needed to be honest with myself and others if I were to get a life really worth having. A gay friend to whom I looked up, and whose self-confidence I envied, reassured me there is no stigma attached to being gay, whatever anyone from any country or culture may insist; nor is it unnatural, but the way we are born. Those who try to impose stigma upon us are twisted bigots, nothing more or less, and we should be glad we are better than that. The least we can do, my friend said, is attempt to educate the ignorant and less enlightened among the heterosexual majority about gay issues; as much for the sake of future generations of gay people, their families and friends as for ourselves.

My friend’s words are an inspiration to me even now, years on.

You can laugh, but I was further inspired by that lovely song Secret Love first sung by the legendary Doris Day in the musical Calamity Jane, and no better version since; it is a love song, and no way a gay love song in the context of the film, yet it gave me food for thought and helped me realise that, gay or straight, love could not care less. I have adored Doris Day ever since. 

It is a savage indictment on the 21^st century that there is still of LOT of educating to do about what it means to be gay. Only the other day, I saw some young people taunting two men holding hands as they walked down a London street with homophobic abuse. Yes, London UK, that place where many gay people claim ‘gays have never had it so good.’ That may well be true, but it plainly is not good enough.

O-U-T

Once I’d told the world I’m gay,

I felt as though everyone could see

right through me

Once I’d told the world I’m gay,

I felt a growing affinity with my pc

everyone tapping into me

Once I’d told the world I’m gay,

I sensed everyone taking a good look

over this newspaper, that book

Once I’d told the world I’m gay,

I started haunting gay clubs and bars

like an alien from Mars

Once I’d told the world I’m gay,

I’d imagine every guy on every street

on his back and up for it

Once I’d told the world I’m gay,

I used to wonder if it would ever be

comfortable with my sexuality

Once I’d told the world I’m gay,

it all but cajoled me to give sex a miss

till I shared my first gay kiss

Copyright R. N. Taber 1989; 2010

Icon

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

I can’t imagine why a homophobic cleric is reading the blog but someone called ‘Disgusted’ has been in touch about Tuesday’s poem. He says it is a sin to ‘glorify’ the human body and ‘outrageous’ to suggest any sense of spirituality can be derived from sex. He deplores my posting poems like Body Beautiful which only proves his point that the Internet is a ‘corrupt influence.’ Even so, he kindly adds that he enjoys many of my ‘more conventional' poems and recommends that I ‘get help' with my homosexuality.

How can I answer that but with another ‘corrupt’ (?!) poem...? He has every right to insist on his point of view, of course, but so do I...

How can anyone in their right mind insist a poem is a corrupt influence because it celebrates the human body?  A for sex, isn't  that is a celebration of the human body too?  Why shouldn't anyone - gay or straight -  find it an intensely spiritual as well as a delightfully physical experience?

ICON

An enigmatic air, rippling muscles,

head like a young god’s cast in bronze

full, sensual lips parted, not smiling,

but knowingly, as if aware of a breeze

in close-cropped curls whisking us 

to some fantasy isle, we its castaways,

partners in paradise, no one crowding us,

fat chance, rescue

Eyes as sharp as thorns on any rose,

while blushing skies lending him a hint 

of vulnerability, some pigeons nearby 

reciting poetry not meant for human ears;

two loud, tipsy youths try to muscle in

on our privacy, but reckoning without

divine intervention from a god on salary,

up for whatever

Mouth moves with the same alacrity

as hands and feet, divinity momentarily

suspended, as the youths demand entry;

harsh words and a strong arm soon sends

them packing, enigmatic air resumed,

classic Rodin immortalised on my phone

for quick reference whenever I find myself

in need of a pick-me-up

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2019

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]

Nothing Ever Quite The Same Again

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

Regular readers will know I have a passion for travelling by train...

NOTHING EVER QUITE THE SAME AGAIN

We sat opposite each other

on a fast train to heaven;

me, trying not to look too hard

in his direction;

he, struggling to resist a glance

too often in mine

I couldn’t focus on my book

for the flames in his hair

torching every page, setting this

heart of mine on fire

with desire, a growing hunger

to kiss a stranger

In mischievous sea-blue eyes

I stripped naked and swam

to a far, sandy shore, the colour

of his shirt, sprawled there

in the sun till he laid his body

down, next to mine

One hand caressed my cheek,

the other stroked my thigh

then he leaned and kissed me,

our arms entwining…

his skin like satin, sex hard,

bold, exciting

I missed my station, didn’t care;

as fate would have it

he did the same, till we came

to the end of the line

and he told me his name,

I told him mine

Homeward bound on another train,

nothing ever quite the same again …

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

Letter To A Mormon Missionary

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

This is an autobiographical poem that last appeared o the blog in 2010. I was bored one afternoon and admitted two Mormons to my flat. One did his best to 'convert' me from my agnosticism and dissuade me from my sexual persuasion while the other said little. That evening the latter returned alone. How he gave his minder the slip, I have no idea (maybe he, too, was experiencing a crisis of the self?) but he had, and confessed to being attracted to other men although he had never surrendered to these feelings ... until now, and badly needed to relieve the weight of guilt oppressing him ...

The main reason I subscribe to no religion is that any religion needs must embrace all, not be selective about whom it takes to its heart, and any followers need to bear in mind that no religion has a monopoly on spirituality.

Whenever I read this poem, I have to watch a wonderful gay DVD called Latter Days about a young Mormon Elder who finds he cannot fight his born sexuality and falls in love with another guy; both funny and moving, I heartily recommend it as must-see viewing.

LETTER TO A MORMON MISSIONARY

One night we knocked at heaven’s door until

someone let us in

You said you’d have loved me, a shame

it was wrong

But there nothing was wrong that spring night

you stayed over

We loved each other (yes, we did) if only

for a while

I still think about you, wondering did you ever

come good?

Couldn’t bear it if you ever forgot that night

in my bed

There’s a gene that whispers ‘gay’ as we’re born,

it’s no sin

We can listen or pay lip service to what’s called

‘convention’

Didn’t hear from you again, wondering now, years

on…

Did you think about me, break free (finally) learn

how to live?

Or do you still let them fight and win your battles

bar one?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

Culture Shock

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

This poem has not appeared on the blog since 2010 so now seems as good a time as any to give it an airing. I am posting it on both blogs today as it addresses the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority as well as regular gay readers who may well identify with the sentiments expressed.

Most people here in the UK (including myself) have no problem with immigration; our problem arises in the significant number of immigrants who persistently condemn various aspects of western culture including its general acceptance of LGBT human rights. People from cultures that are gay-unfriendly (to say the least) will have know this before they chose to come here so they should either stay away or keep a respectful silence, and agree to differ. The same has to be said , of course, for thoe borm here who feel much the same antipathy towards the LGBT ethic for whatever reason.

  

CULTURE SHOCK

‘Bigotry Rules OK,’

read graffiti on a factory wall,

‘Better off dead than Gay’

It was high noon

for a boyfriend and I, appalled

by sentiments so obscene

He held my hand

as we explored a shopping mall,

negotiating quicksand

We paused for a kiss

in the doorway of a supermarket,

caused a bit of a fuss

One man called the police,

another hauled curious kids away,

a third yelled abuse

A crowd gathered

not wanting to miss out on a show

(violence preferred)

‘You do know,’ said someone,

‘Shakespeare wrote his love sonnets

for a young man...?’

No one said a word,

not wishing to be labelled a philistine

for the world

We went on our way

(if the cops came we were long gone)

and Will won the day

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

Just a Question of Love

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

Today’s poem has appeared twice on the blog before, the last time in 2010. It takes its title from a delightful and moving gay movie of the same name (in translation) Juste une Question d’Amour; it was first shown on French television in January 2000.

There was a time, especially in the 1980's and early 1990's, that Channel 4 here showed a variety of mainstream gay films, but we rarely see any on British television these days. [By mainstream, I mean an alternative to the kind of soft porn stuff that’s easy enough to come by. No worries there, but I for one enjoy a good story line with believable characters. Titles like The Torchsong Trilogy, Beautiful Thing, Get Real and Brokeback Mountain instantly spring to mind...]

We rarely even hear any discussion on gay issues here, either on TV or radio. Could it be that broadcasters are afraid of offending the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority, increasing in numbers all the time in a multicultural society in which various socio-cultural-religious hang-ups invariably include homophobia?

Now, as I have said many times, love does not discriminate so why should anyone? Sometimes I wonder, are we really living in the 21^st century?

Even nowadays, many gay people are made to feel they have to choose between sexuality and family, friends, culture, entire home environment. No one should have to make such a choice anywhere in the world. and no one has the right to impose it on anyone.  

This poem is a villanelle.

JUST A QUESTION OF LOVE 

As spring rain from above

on Earth Mother in pain;

it's just a question of love

As push comes to shove,

so love into its own,

as spring rain from above

The healing wing of a dove

will learn to fly again;

it’s just a question of love

Love has nothing to prove;

a bigot’s loss, its gain,

as spring rain from above

See a hand torn from glove

beat cold and pain;

it’s just a question of love

If nature’s sexuality prove

as precious a bane

as spring rain from above,

it’s just a question of love

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

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

Footnote to a Treatise on Volcanoes

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

I have to confess I am no computer gamer, but was disturbed to say the least when it was brought to my attention that Electronic Arts (EA), maker of the highly popular Star Wars: The Old Republic video game, is the target of a boycott orchestrated by hateful anti-gay groups.

It appears they gave players around the world the option of including a gay romance storyline in their interactive Star Wars game. [Now, would that be Luke and Yoda? Surely not...?] Seriously, though, anti-gay letters are apparently flooding Electronic Arts headquarters, threatening to push the company and its staff to the dark side.

So much for those readers who contact me saying I am living in the Dark Ages and ‘Gays have never had it so good.’ How good life is for us still depends very much on where we live and whether or not that is a gay-friendly environment.

Meanwhile...

Today’s poem last appeared on the blog in 2010. It has been requested by ‘Stefano’ for his partner ‘Cesare’ who has a birthday today.

Here’s wishing you a very Happy Birthday, Cesare.

Oh, but the eruption when pent up desires will stay quiet no longer...!

FOOTNOTE TO A TREATISE ON VOLCANOES

The first time I lay with another man,

it was with someone whom I had adored

for years but thought had ignored

my searching glances, double meanings,

sad eyes brimming with unshed tears;

instead, he chose to wait until I spoke out

as my heart intended once my tongue

found the words to say what I’d been told

I shouldn’t, mustn’t, because people

would think the worst if I told the world

I’m gay

He understood and shared my fears

yet kissed my eyelids, moistened by tears,

murmured reassurance as well as love

in my ears, gently wiping away all the fear

those who had thought to know better,

(following a dark history to the letter) had

glued to my lips, now freed by a tongue

that had found the words to say though told

he shouldn’t, mustn’t, because people

would think the worst if he told the world

he’s gay

He taught me the art of lovemaking

as learned at Nature’s breast and practised

in lesser known playing fields of time,

discovering the skills to which we were born,

how to let self-knowledge inspire us

instead to giving way to temporal prejudices,

imbibe the spirituality of life and love

in words we, oh, so long to say though told

we shouldn’t mustn’t, because people

would think the worst if we told the world

we’re gay

At a climax of mutual desire, I stood

on the edge of a volcano, in awe of its fire

yet relating to it also, its eruption

thrusting me through time and space where

I could look down and see…

Nature protesting at the antics of humanity

writing its own epitaph, gluing it to lips

that long to have a greater say in things though

told they shouldn’t, mustn’t, that people

would think the worst, get scared, try to run

away

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

On The Intimate Nature Of Stargazing

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

Today’s poem has not appeared on the blog since 2010. So many readers have said they can identify with it, having spent time apart from boyfriends, girlfriends or partners from time to time that you will find it among some 100+ others in my new collection.

The intensity of missing someone is the same for anyone, of course, gay or straight, but gay people often seem to get left out of even such a timeless equation as this. Yes, even these days, especially where gay relationships are still looked upon as an offence against religion if not morality. So where’s the harm in reminding everyone that we miss loved ones too. [The likes of Giles Muhame please note although let’s not suppose for a moment that such foolish socio-cultural-religious bigotry exists only in a less enlightened southern hemisphere. Dear me, no, it is everywhere.]

Meanwhile...

Pick  and share a star with a loved one, and you can be sure that finding it again when you miss them most helps hold the dream and bring them that little bit closer.

Whimsical, you say? Well, yes, and why not if it works...? Oh, and it invariably does, believe me. Try it, and see.

ON THE INTIMATE NATURE OF STARGAZING

Once I wished on a falling star

as lovers the world will often do,

that soon we can be together,

knowing you’ll be wishing too

The star vanished in the night

though others kept me company

as I wondered how you are,

knowing you’re thinking of me

I felt even closer to you then

than at times when you’re here,

fighting back tears, the zen 

of star-crossed lovers ever near

No heavens frowning upon us

(see the Old Man take our part)

but the world’s prejudices

would force us, gay lovers, apart

For now, they may have won

a battle or two, but never say die,

for love will see us through

in this as in darker years gone by

For every person wishing us ill,

others echo Earth Mother, calling
on us to live. love, and follow

a dream for every star that's falling

May we each find joy and peace

in one another, wherever we may be,

make the world a kinder place,

let all its star-crossed lovers go free

Copyright R N Taber 2012

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

Gay On A Roll

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

A cleric once took me to task for not listening to the still, small voice that finds its way into everyone’s head telling me it is a sin to be gay. I told him the still small voice in my head was telling me something very different. He assured me I was listening to the Devil. It was down to me, he said, to ignore the Devil and hear God’s words. Did that mean God is a homophobe, I asked?  Had I not been told He created and loved all creatures great and small? The Devil’s work, the cleric insisted, is to undermine everything God says and does. We must all accept this sad fact, rise above it, and show the Devil we understand that God knows best...

Or?  (I was intrigued.) Or, the clerics told me gravely, I would never go to Heaven, but remain putty in the Devil’s hands forever.

It was the late 1950s. I was 14 years-old, already a closet gay lad, and never one to cave in to emotional blackmail. The cleric had spotted me leaving a well-known ‘cottage’ regularly visited by gay men. I guess he saw an opportunity to hone his sermonising skills on a captive audience.  Now, I had been wary of clerics for years and already turned away from religion. Nature seemed ready, willing and able to give me the reassurance I needed to find my own way in life, including sexuality. Even so, a schoolboy’s intuition warned me to engage the man rather than run off in case he saw it as his civic if not religious duty to turn me in to the police.  

It’s true my life has been a rollercoaster and no fun ride either for much of the time. But that’s no more down to nature or any God or Devil; that, my friends, is life.  I guess the trick is to ride out the bad times and let the good times roll...

Oh, and I met the same cleric again years later...in a gay bar.

GAY ON A ROLL

A still, small voice in my head

tells me each night and day

to walk tall, just go right ahead

and be good, be glad, be gay

A still, small voice in my heart

tells me it’s no sin (no way)

to share my body from the start

with a lover who, too, is gay

A still small voice in my soul

tells me not to be afraid

for eternity has but one goal,

to unite us all, not divide…

A still small voice is telling me

the world has a lot to learn

about our common humanity

for whom its candles burn

A still, small voice in my head

tells me each night and day

to walk tall, just go right ahead

and be good, be glad, be gay

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

Cocoon

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

I wrote today’s poem in 1973 when I was still in my 20s. (I am 66 now.) 

The poem last appeared on the blog in 2010 and I am posting it here today especially for ‘Roseanne and Sam’as well as  Paul and Rhys’ who have been kind enough to let me know they are enjoying the collection and ‘love this poem’.

I confess that encouragement and feedback are always welcome, however you might feel about what or how I write. E-mail only, though, please - to rogertab@aol.com  - if you would like a reply as I don't post comments; nor do I use social networks except to link to the blogs.

Oh, but when I read early poems and recall how things once were, I don’t feel in the least bit sad, just glad for having enjoyed moments worth writing poems about people and places I have good reason to remember, not least for having loved; other moments in time, too, when passing glances os a chance  conversation with a complete stranger strike a chord that marks the beginning of a poem yet to be written.

 COCOON

Out of a golden twilight,

you stepped into my dreams,

took me in your arms

You hugged and kissed me,

gave my loneliness new heart

from the very start

In that gentle, golden mist,

you led me into a lovemaking

that was breathtaking

Later, you held me close,

wrapped yourself around me;

cocoon of spirituality

In the folds of a pink sunset,

we gay lovers left our dreams

to Earth Mother’s charms

Come dawn’s first light,

odds against us cruelly stacked,

cocoon (for now) intact

Copyright R. N. Taber 1973; 2010

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books 2012]

No Apology For Sexuality

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

Yes, another love poem. Oh, and why not?

Now, someone asked me why Apollo often features in my poems. It has to do with conveying the idea that what the poem has to say is nothing new but goes back centuries.  

Let’s not forget either that, according to various myths and legends, Apollo was bisexual. How can any gay writer who has an affinity with history and nature avoid making reference to such metaphors of old?

No one in the LGBT community should ever feel that he or she needs to apologise to anyone for their sexuality, whatever his or her socio-cultural-religious persuasion.

This poem is a villanelle.

NO APOLOGY FOR SEXUALITY

Once, Apollo came to me

in a godly light,

kissing me passionately

We made love feverishly,

and it felt right

once Apollo came to me

It was a divine intimacy

as he held me tight,

kissing me passionately

At dusk, a tearful apology

for taking flight;

Once, Apollo came to me...

No need for any apology

from you at night,

kissing me passionately

Grown old, love as feisty

as its first sunlight...

Once, Apollo came to me,

kissing me passionately

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009; 2012

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On The Battlefields Of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010. According to Greek mythology, Apollo was known to have both male and female lovers.]

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