Where Culture and Convention Conspire against Sense and Sensibility

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

Reader ‘J J’ has been in touch o say, ‘Your gay poems lack subtlety and style. You are too direct. I suggest you read Thom Gunn… Well, I have read Thom Gun and while I can appreciate his style, his subtleties leave me scratching my head until I have lost whatever feeling I may have had for the poem. So…sorry ‘J J’ but I make no apology for being ‘direct’.

Now, I often post Gay Awareness poems on my general as well as this blog. I posted today’s poem there some time ago; it attracted a lot of emails, mostly critical of its sentiments if not the poem itself. I can’t believe it has not found its way to this blog until now!

The poem was written especially for an LGBT History Month (February) reading and inspired by a conversation a few months earlier, just before Christmas, always an emotional time for many, with a young man who had just split with a Jamaican boyfriend who was too scared/ ashamed of what family and friends might say about going public with their relationship. It is hardly surprising, given that gay men and women in Jamaica have been beaten, cut, burned, raped and shot because of their sexual orientation.

Tragically, especially for young gay people and others who reject socio-cultural-religious prejudices, many if not most families of various ethnic backgrounds choosing to settle here in the UK and across Europe bring their prejudices with them. No surprises then if multiculturalism has realized precious little of its true potential.

So much for a forward looking and thinking 21st century!

WHERE CULTURE AND CONVENTION CONSPIRE AGAINST SENSE AND SENSIBILITY

Today I left a yellow rose

at the place where we first met;

to this day no one knows

(we were consumed by guilt)

I lay in the same grass

that had kept our secret for years

and even Apollo’s kiss

could not dry my wistful tears

I listened out for birds

and a serenade performed for us;

(same song, same words)

once music of love, now its loss

Yet, loss began ebb away

as I lay there, a breeze in my hair

like a lover’s fingers at play

love’s sweet nothings in my ear

I turned and you were there

no less anxious for a lovemaking

than either you or I ever were

for fear the birds cease singing

And cease, they did, so cruelly,

once our secret a secret no more;

you dared not choose me

over loves you had loved before

Parting was no sweet sorrow,

but emptied us of all joy and peace,

no guiding light to follow

come each dawn, only darkness

May time and world bear witness

to its inhumanity all but swept away,

love over bigotry victorious,

nature embracing us who are gay

Come the day, I’ll find you there,

no less anxious for our lovemaking

than either you od I ever were

for hearing spring birds singing

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013