A (Gay) Senior's Take On Schooldays

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

Most schools are on a half-term holiday here in the UK, and I can’t help wondering how many gay boys and girls are fretting about their awakening sexuality just as I did many years ago. (I was born in 1945)

When we are teenagers, we think we are alone and no one could possibly understand let alone share our distress. Yes, even these days it is rarely easy (never say never) to acknowledge we are gay, especially if we happen to be living in a gay-unfriendly home or school environment.

The irony is that, if only we knew it, there are sure to be other gay boys and girls in our school, maybe in our class even, running the same gamut of life changing emotions. 

Being gay is just part of who we are, and the sooner parents and everyone else accept that it is no one’s fault, no one is to blame and there is nothing unwholesome or unnatural about being born with a gay gene…the sooner we can start playing happy families, friends and neighbours again.

Is this poem autobiographical? Well, there are autobiographical elements in many of my gay-interest poems. So how much really happened and how much is pure imagination? Now, that would be telling…

A (GAY) SENIOR’S TAKE ON SCHOOLDAYS

We were naked in the showers

after Gym at school

and I could barely keep my eyes

off him

Although best friends for years,

at the same school,

I’d never felt anything like this

about him

Desire invaded my exposed self

like an alien from Mars,

yet I knew it meant me no harm

or him

Later, we sat next to each other

during Maths

and when his leg brushed mine

I froze

The teacher asked me a question

I couldn’t answer,

hadn’t been listening, my mind

elsewhere

We did our homework in my room

as we often did,

and each time he glanced my way

I nearly died

Homework done, time to turn up

the rock ‘n’ roll,

and jive like mad along with some

top pop idol

We had a friendly fight on my bed

as we often did,

but now it was an intimacy too far

and I kissed him

Kissed him hard, holding him down,

taking in his heat,

reluctantly letting go, by now afraid

of him

Head in hands, an awesome silence

killing me

till a whisper in my ear made it OK,

he wanted it too

We were lovers for but a short while;

in the end,

he decided he preferred girls, I’d lost

my best friend

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013

In Remembrance of Times Past

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

Here’s wishing peace and happiness to all lovers, gay or straight, who are able to be together.  May those kept apart by circumstances beyond their control find peace of mind, and eventually be reunited.

Sadly, there can be no happy ending for all of us. There are plenty of people in the world who cannot bear to see others happy, usually because they lead such miserable lives themselves. Or they put forward various socio-cultural-religious objections and manage to persuade themselves that theirs is the moral high ground. Huh, as if…!

Whatever, to love and be loved has to be one of life’s most precious gifts and even having to part with a loved one cannot take that away from us; it is ours to keep and cherish always.

The chances are a take on life derived from mutual love will make itself felt in ways great or small, but never insignificant, through much of what we do and say.

Hopefully, the power of love with which we have been blessed will rub off on others. Who knows? We may even help to make the world a kinder place.

IN REMEMBRANCE OF TIMES PAST

If now we can be together,

let us never forget

hard times in long shadows,

afraid of certain others guessing

we are lovers

True, we are still together,

even if some will say

the law’s an ass for treating

gay men and women the same

as everyone else

Yes, we are living together,

walking tall in the sun,

while some gay partners

still made to run the gamut

of Chinese whispers

Where cultural traditions

and world religions

accommodate each other,

let us take heart, be sure to play

our part

If now we can be together,

let us never forget

hard times in long shadows,

afraid of certain others guessing

we are lovers

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009; 2017

[Note: An earlier version of this poem first appeared under the title 'Chinese Whispers' in On the Battlefields of Love  by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]

Togetherness, Badge of Pride

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

This reflective poem was written in 1983 during the latter days of my recovery from a severe nervous breakdown in 1979. I had lost all confidence in myself and my sexuality, but looking back on better, kinder, more positive times, I was able to survive a flood of mixed emotions and take my place in the real world again. I started a new job the same year.

TOGETHERNESS, BADGE OF PRIDE

Together was a long way;

some folks said it was the wrong way;

though we cared what they said,

went ahead, did it our way instead,

kept faith with each other;
joined your body to mine, let it patch up

a gaping hole in the soul,
proof enough we were doing

nothing wrong at all

We reinvented ourselves;

two of a kind, dancing mouth to mouth

on the same smile willing us,
applauding us that last long mile

on the road to a heaven

some people said would see us in hell,

but we knew better,

so long as we could be together,

making love forever

Time wasn’t on our side,

but stayed long enough for us to share

the beauty and glory of a love

inspiring sex of a kind to blow the mind

into pieces spinning time and space,

across galaxies where same sex lovers

have no need for a defence

against people who haven’t a clue

how it is for us

Forever sounds a long time;

some people said it was the wrong time,

but we didn’t listen,

did our own thing, leaving it to love

to take us through time and space,

across galaxies where same sex lovers

aren’t even expected to explain

to people who haven’t a clue how come

I’m still joined to you

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; 2017

[Note: This poem has been revised since its first publication under the title 'Gift-Wrap' in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]

  

Reconciling with Nature

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

Some socio-cultural-religious groups wordwide remain intrinsically homophobic. Why can they not see that for gay men and women for all kinds of socio-cultural-religious backgrounds to be gay, sexuality has to be genetic?

It is a fact of life and nature that some of us are born gay. Sexuality has to be in the genes, and what could be more natural…?

Whatever, let's never give up on a time when Old Mother Hope returns with a spring in every step...

  

RECONCILING WITH NATURE

The wood was dark and bare,

still smelled of winter,

in the bleakness of despair

where I chose to wander;

no birds sang the joys of living

left paralysed by my grief,

the pain of its unforgiving nature

denying every tree a leaf

Who speaks for a 21^st century

caught out taking part

in cruel twists of inhumanity

on gay folks at its heart?

Hadn’t love earned our trust,

despite a cultural history

bent on grinding gay people to dust   
with its hate and hypocrisy?

All trust shaken in life and love

and no guiding light;

a barn owl on the prowl above

saw me stumble, take fright;

my fear gave way to admiration,

watching it wing its way

as sure as winter to its regeneration,

night, inevitably, to day

Seduced by the dawn chorus,

I tasted your kisses again,

a weepy sun letting fall its tears

on sad trees like spring rain;

came the harbingers of spring,

to that wood dark and bare,

centuries-old poems joyfully relating

its triumphs for every ear

For all lovers the world would part,

Earth Mother’s words ring true;

me, I could but learn them by heart

and pass them on to you,

Her love, at least, earning our trust,

despite a cultural history

failing to grind we gay people to dust 

with its hate and hypocrisy    

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010   

[Note: This poem first appeared as 'A Taste of Spring' in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]                         

  

A Gay Man's Kitchen Sink Drama

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

There are parts of the world, northern as well as southern hemispheres, where you can still feel, and all but smell hostility towards gay  people, especially gay men, exuding like a gas from the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority.

Ah, but where does that hostility come from, and how much does it owes its very existence to a repressed sexuality resulting from all kinds of socio-cultural-religious brainwashing?

Good question.

The beach in this poem just so happens to be in Cornwall; as well as being one of the most beautiful parts of the UK, it is also one of the least gay-friendly.

A GAY MAN’S KITCHEN SINK DRAMA

Washing peppers

at the kitchen sink, I began thinking

about a young man

in a bright red tee shirt stripping

down to cute blue swimming trunks

on a crowded beach

Heads half turned,

wary eyes chanced to glance his way

(behind sun glasses)

as he exposed a fine, hairy, chest,

let fly the cutest flip-flops, and loped

into the sea

Tall, lean, muscular,

he might have stepped out of a dream

among lonely gay men

haunted by a daunting sexuality,

loath to take on such a gay-unfriendly 

neighbourhood

He swam like a fish,

envious looks following every stroke

of a body sculpted

like a splendid Rodin bronze,

now gliding, now surfing feisty waves

roaring applause 

He stepped out of the sea

like a man stepping back into dreams

of lonely gay men

living lies among strangers

glad to pass themselves off as friends,

but on their terms

Slicing the peppers,

bold image of sex towelling itself down

before slipping back

into a bright red shirt, jeans,

and flip-flops suggesting an early night,

for the pair of us

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013

Engaging with a Max Force Tornado

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

Today’s poem was inspired by an encounter with a couple of Italian guys in their late 20’s holidaying in London. Apparently, they had been best friends since schooldays but lovers for less than a month. Both excluded a glow guaranteed to warm the cockles of a romantic poet’s heart.

I expressed surprise that it had taken them so long to get together and said I thought it was only the English who were supposed to be reserved to extremes. Catholic guilt, they assured me, can have much the same effect.

Could it be that there has been so much stereotypical rubbish written about gay men for so long that sometimes a more ‘respectable’ and respected socio-cultural-religious take on the integrity of ‘male bonding’ becomes an (almost) acceptable compromise?

ENGAGING WITH A MAX FORCE TORNADO 

We were best friends,
though I all but died knowing
how much he meant to me,
left to live for years in the dark
of that killing silence
only dreamers know who see
the world through tears for fears
they dare not show

One night he stayed over
after a night painting the town
all the colours of a rainbow
and more (far more) besides...
in an all-revealing spotlight
only dreamers know who see
the world through tears for fears
they long to share

We chatted over coffee,
lazing on a sofa that had seen us
do much the same 
more times than I cared 
to remember for the silent agony
only dreamers know who see 
the world through tears for fears
they dare not show

He flung an arm around me
and my emotions ran the gamut
of love, loneliness, desire,
and more (far more) besides 
in that same spotlight
only dreamers know who see 
the world through tears for fears
they need to share

I slid a hand inside his shirt,
let the heat of his body overwhelm
moments of self-restraint
I well recall for years of half-life
kept in a custom built cage 
only dreamers know who see 
the world through tears for fears
they dare not show

When I kissed him on the lips,
his breath inside me was sheer bliss,
taking me to greater heights
than even an imagination up against 
a conspiracy of silence
only dreamers know who see
the world through tears for fears
we need to show

Within seconds, reality struck,
tearing through my dream-like state
like a max force tornado,
left me (a broken thing) crashing
among such splendid ruins
only dreamers know, where love 
is but the sum of its tears for fears
anyone should know

Minutes later, panic subsiding,
I became aware of a hand in my shirt
rising and falling to the rhythm
of twin heartbeats (finally) inspired
to cross some Great Divide 
reducing all we same-sex lovers 
to tears for its fears before coming
into our own

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013

The Word Is...

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

From time to time, I find myself looking back in horror and anger to the dark days of my youth when gay relationships were illegal here in the UK, especially when I receive emails from gay people living in a gay-unfriendly environment (anywhere in the world) and besieged with doubts regarding the integrity of his or her sexuality.

It is OK to be gay, If other people have a problem with that, it's their problem. The world is all the richer for the diversity of people in it; as I have said many times on the blogs, our differences do not make us different, just human,

THE WORD IS…

G-A-Y is a word that’s had me worried

till I met you

G-A-Y is a word that’s had me scared

for HIV-AIDS

G-A-Y is a word I’d heard is a synonym

for perverse

G-A-Y is a word I’d only known used

for a punch bag

G-A-Y is a word I was taught to believe

only losers use

G-A-Y is a word I was told denies God

and worse

G-A-Y is a word I was encouraged to spit

upon

G-A-Y is a word that fair shook the life

out of me

G-A-Y is a word that tossed me into a pit

of wintry despair

G-A-Y is the word that returned me to light

and springtime

G-A-Y is the word that tossed me a lifeline

and set me free

G-A-Y is a word that really had me worried

till you found me

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

  

[Note: This poem was written in 1973, rediscovered in 2009.and first posted on the Internet in 2010]

Leftover Laurels of a Screaming Queen

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

I once had a friend who loved to live (or camp) up to his reputation for being something of s screaming queen. He died some years ago but I often think of him with great affection. He pops up in my memory all the time, rather like a much treasured jack-in-the-box. I knew him very well, and in reality he was no stereotypical screaming queen, as few are. He was older than me, and had grown up, as I did, at a time when gay people were considered the lowest of the low if not sick. His outward behavior was a form of defence mechanism, as if defying the bigots in society to put him down if they dare. Inwardly, he was a kind, caring loving person whom it was a delight to know, especilly once our friendship had embraced his (very)camp alter ego.

Now, I have heard it said, and feel inclined to agree, that old queens never die, but simply fade away…

LEFTOVER LAURELS OF A SCREAMING QUEEN

It’s good to be gay,

even as I grow older

(if less happy)

each time I look in the mirror

at a stranger

It’s good to be gay

enjoy outrageous chat

with a young man

as pretty as his pink tee shirt,

(Logo: ‘Keep Out’)

It’s good to be gay

flirt with lips and hand

as if I stood a chance

of taking even a one night stand

back to Neverland

It’s good to be gay,

fly high on tatty wings

from tarty days

of cruising cabbages and kings

though smoke rings

It’s good to be gay

free of the hassle

of attempting

to reward sex sufficient muscle

to fulfil its potential

It’s good to be gay,

even as I grow older,

younger at heart

each time I preen in my mirror

for a stranger

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013

Who's that Banging on the Closet Door...?

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

Most if not all of us tell lies sometimes. Some (gay or straight) relationships are a lie. It is easy to get used to lies; they become like comfortable clothes we cannot face throwing away even though they are falling apart at the seams.

Lies are like creatures in a cage that deserve better. We are the cage. It is up to us whether we set them free or not. Meanwhile, who can look into a caged creature’s eyes and deny a longing to be free?

Regular readers will know how I feel about gay people who are not openly gay, for whatever reason. We must respect their decision and privacy. At the same time, I recall my own closet days, many years ago, and wonder how anyone can spend a lifetime living a lie so integral to their very identity.

Sometimes, of course, we fall victim to our own mixed emotions…but what of those other times? How can any family, person, culture, religion or society justify creating such cages? Oh, they will try, and sadly some will succeed.

As far as closet gay men and women are concerned, we can only hope more will, in time, open the cage and let its occupants go free, as nature intended. Better that, by far, than the rest of us be rounded up and returned to cages… as those touting a minority but growing political persuasion towards the Far Right would have it.

Better to be honest with and have faith in ourselves, surely, than pay lip service to convention simply because we are raised to think it has our best interests at heart? Sometime, yes, it does, Sometimes, though, it is more concerned with the best interests of others than ourselves.

It is down to each and every one of us to discern what's what, and rather than go with the flow for its own sake, to go where  mind, body and spirit will probably have been urging us for some time...and if that means going against some socio-cultural-religious tide, so be it. Gay or straight, we need to have faith in ourselves. After all, isn't that what the finer, humanitarian principles of all three are (or should be) all about.

Many gay people are scared of coming out to friends and family while others choose to stay closet for their own reasons. While the world needs to create a more welcoming climate for the former, we also need to respect the latter; 'outing' gay people is an unacceptable form of bullying.

WHO'S THAT BANGING ON THE CLOSET DOOR ...?

We saw a dragon at the local zoo

as tame as tame could be;

I swear it poked a tongue at you

and flashed a flame at me;

sad eyes glowing like balls of fire

raining down on us

like a shower of meteors

as we marvelled at its powerful jaws

and shiny scales

in various rainbow hues,

weaving fairy tales from distant lands

as we stood, sweaty hands

We didn’t go too near as you can

never be sure (even at a zoo)

that a dragon won’t get the better

of you, now wagging the tip

of a giant tail as if trying to say,

‘Come again another day...’

its belly rumbling a minor roar,

shaking every bar of its cage,

curling every page of our history,

scant regard for either magic

or mystery, driving home the cruelty

of our reality

Denial, self-images of a wannabe dragon
rattling its cage in desperation...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2013

[Note: This poem has been revised from an earlier version  that appears under the title 'Behind Bars' in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Man-in-a-Suit, Fetish for a Restless Libido

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

This poem was written for a gay friend who has a fetish about guys in suits. make of that what you will...

As I have pointed out before, in mythology, the sun god Apollo is usually represented as bisexual.

Trust Apollo then to impose the seal of his approval on two complete strangers with seemingly nothing in common…

MAN-IN-A-SUIT, FETISH FOR A RESTLESS LIBIDO

He looked sharp in a suit,

grey silk shirt and bold black tie

less funereal than ethereal

in a blaze of sunlight

giving his short, black hair

the gloss of a punter’s’ favourite

at the Grand National

I was self-conscious in tee,

jeans and trainers that had seen

better days, poised to retreat

in a blaze of sunlight

but prevented by pride in

and callson a bisexuality haunting

mind, body, and spirit

He looked sharp in a suit,

blue eyes practising a cutting edge

wherever they chose to fall

in a blaze of sunlight

providing body armour for one

invoking legends of knights worthy

of Arthur’s table

I was but an adoring peasant

in the presence of someone beyond

reach of mind, body, and spirit

until a blaze of sunlight

recreated a prism locking us

into ages-old rites that let gay men  

rise to the occasion

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013