Engaging with James Baldwin

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

It’s early summer here in the UK (in name only so far!) but already late autumn/early winter in some parts of the world; a curious phenomenon, the juxtaposition of time and place.

Now and then, I meet older men like me (I will be 68 in December) who are caught up in a downward spiral of depression for finding themselves growing old alone, no partner to share what is invariably a daunting process. They have given up on love, rejecting the simpler intimate pleasures of human relationships as second best. In other words, they miss sex and can’t get their heads around the possibility they may never enjoy it again.

Well, never say ‘never’, and much as we might once have thought so, sex is not everything.

As the autumn of our years fades into winter, life may yet spring a few surprises on us so long as we  refuse to close mind and spirit to love, whatever our bodies (or any socio-cultural-religious dogma) may have to say on the subject.

James Baldwin (photo taken from the Internet)

ENGAGING WITH JAMES BALDWIN 

In the autumn of my years,

I was sitting alone on a park bench

admiring a bed of daffodils, and wishing

it was spring again

A young man sat down beside me,

proceeded to read a paperback novel

and (out of the blue) asked for my opinion

of James Baldwin

I confessed I loved all his novels,

and we engaged in feisty chat for a while

about literature, life, Human Rights, taboos,

and (of course) sexuality

His smile on me was like the sun,

as warm, friendly, and sensual as Apollo

might treat an acolyte, my dour wintry years

melting into springtime

At last, we went our separate ways,

exchanging names and  phone numbers,

both expressing our desire to meet up again

sooner rather than later

I didn’t really think he would call,

was delighted when he did, and so began

a friendship that would gladly run the gamut

of light and dark

As lovers, we would never have lasted

where a union of like minds and free spirits

engaged with each other, lending my autumn

a new lease of life

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013

No Time for Tears OR Suddenly, it's Summer

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

Not one of my better poems today, but one of several adapted from pieces originally written as song lyrics, but never performed. Even so, it appeared in an anthology - The Truth from the Game, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2003 - prior to my collection.

Many years ago, I aspired to writing a gay musical with a gay friend who can write music (I can’t) but our lives took drastically different turns at about the same time, and we drifted apart. The musical was never written. Years later, I tried to persuade another (straight) friend to help me.  [No chance!] Oh, well, maybe some dead ends are for the best...

Meanwhile, here’s wishing peace and happiness to we romantics everywhere, whatever our sexuality.

NO TIME FOR TEARS or SUDDENLY, IT'S SUMMER

Walking in darkness,

walking in pain,

I stumbled through life

seeking love in vain,

till one summer morning,

dew fresh and clear,

a fragrance of young roses

in the light, summer air

as we got chatting by and by

at a place near a river

where even the willows

forgot to cry

Laughing in sunshine,

winging with birds,

first time in a long time,

no loss for words;

heard grasshoppers singing

in dew fresh and clear,

a heady fragrance of roses 

in the light, summer air

as we got kissing by and by

at a place near a river

where even the willows

forgot to cry

Copyright R. N. Taber 2003; 2005; 2018

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Ode to Summer' in  A Feeling for The Quickness Of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005; it was slightly but significantly revised in 2018.]

L-O-V-E, where Words and Worlds Collide

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

Bigotry is beneath contempt; add the sheer weight of hypocrisy and we are entering nether regions that would see even a skunk come up smelling of roses.

I will be 68 on the winter solstice, and have met some wonderful people throughout my life who have brought much light, purpose and hope to it. Some of these have been of one or other religious persuasion, people who see through the hypocrites that manipulate religion for their own purposes to spiritual origins in which all religions share more common ends than differences.

Even so, it has been my personal experience that the worst offenders against humanity have used religion as a front for their malpractices. A good many evangelical clerics are the obvious but not the only culprits; their attitude towards gay people, in some African countries especially, but just about everywhere (including parts of the UK) calls to mind phrase, ‘Man’s inhumanity to Man.’.

Of course, every walk of life has its diehard fundamentalists, arrogant bigots, and homophobes, but it has to be one of life’s greater ironies that so many are found among the world’s various religious communities.

Gay people in the northern hemisphere have seen many changes for the better since I was a schoolboy struggling to see how my sexuality could possibly be a criminal offence, and there are hopeful signs of change in parts of the southern hemisphere too... 

But we are common humanity living on the same planet, and it just won’t do that people are still being persecuted for their sexuality. The fight goes on.

L-O-V-E. WHERE WORDS AND WORLDS COLLIDE

G-A-Y,

left to make its own way in the world

for tinkering with convention,

ignoring derision last seen haunting

a bigot’s eyes

G-A-Y,

getting high as a brave new word,

tampering with traditions,

bridging divisions last seen reflected  

in a bigot’s eyes

G-A-Y,

not afraid of putting up two fingers

at heterosexual elements

last seen huffing, puffing, and catching

a bigot’s eye

G-A-Y,

in a world where evangelical monsters

and those with like minds

would be in on chase and kill at the wink

of a bigot’s eye

G-A-Y,

getting high as a brave new word,

viewed with suspicion

for getting close enough to see the whites

of a bigot’s eyes

G-A-Y,

born into a sorry world last heard

expressing pro-diversity

by shooting even more blanks at the whites

of a bigot’s eyes

  

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013

Precious Moments OR G-A-Y, Skating on Stars

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

I love Paris. Being partially deaf, I don’t have an ear for languages, but people there don’t seem to mind and even warm to my schoolboy-like efforts to speak French.

In this, the (early) winter of my years, I don’t get to visit Paris as often as I would like, not least because I can’t afford to stay in hotels for more than the occasional weekend. 

Ah, but in the spring and summer of my years …

While some holiday memories blur with time, others are as vivid as favourite dreams that have taken on reality…and won. Oh, their victory (in real terms) may well have been short-lived, but remain no less sweet for that.

Written years ago, I rediscovered this poem only recently among a pile of old papers I was throwing out and (slightly) revised it.

PRECIOUS MOMENTS or G-A-Y, SKATING ON STARS

We met in old Paris,

my dreamtime lover and I,

crossing the Pont Neuf,

about to pass each other by

when the moon, it fell

in the water, and we both paused

to stare, and that was the start of our gay

love affair

Rain pouring down,

a cascade of shooting stars;

the sky in the Seine,

couldn’t believe our eyes;

his hand grasped mine,

hearts beating fast, total strangers

no more, and that was the start of our gay

love affair

City, taken us to its heart

we skated on stars in galaxies

only dreamers know

for dodging myriad umbrellas

in streets where even rain

is a treasure the world’s lovers get

to share, and that was the start of our gay

love affair

We went to his apartment

and I still didn’t know his name,

re-working ‘mad’ and ‘sane’

against a backdrop of Caillebotte

copycats brush stroking into

our every moment, time enough

to spare, and that was the start of our gay

love affair

We made love in a four-poster

as if le demain was but a password

only we two ever knew,

and would never say out loud

for fear the dream fade;

hours later, vacation over, rain starting

to clear, a rainbow all that’s left of our gay

love affair

[Paris, April 1986.]

Copyright R. N. Taber; 20013

[Note: Caillebotte (4th stanza, line 4) is a reference to Gustave Caillebotte (1848-1894), a French artist perhaps best known for his painting, Paris Street; Rainy Day  (1877). Incidentally, many of his other paintings and drawings are of male bodies, often with their faces concealed, conveying a homo-eroticism that has given rise in more recent times to speculation that he may have been gay.]

Listening Works Both Ways

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

Today’s poem was inspired by an email from someone some time ago who had taken himself off to ‘think through whether I am really gay or not' only to decide that he is and return to be reunited with his boyfriend a few months later. A subsequent email told me of their civil partnership earlier this year ‘attended by many family members and old friends. ‘

While it is always worth listening to what others have to say, even if only to find out where we stand with them, eventually we must make up our own minds. With any luck, we may yet prove them wrong who cast doubts on our capacity for sound judgment, even do their best to bring it into disrepute. 

Whatever, we only get one shot at living this life so far better (surely?) to do it our way rather than let anyone else dictate differently; just as they are entitled to their life so, too, are we.

When, oh, when will some people understand that our differences don’t make us different, only human?

LISTENING WORKS BOTH WAYS

I’d hear voices calling,

battle cries always the same,

dear, familiar, voices persuading me

to come home

I’d hear my love calling

all the time, be it night or day,

shooting down every reason I’d said

I couldn’t stay

Family, demanding

I pause and lend an ear for once

to such ‘home truths’ as never gave us

even half a chance

Old friends, warning,

‘Give yourself a break, go away,

get your head straight, and give up on

this being gay…’

Neighbours whispering,

‘Something is never quite right

about someone slinking off like a thief

in the night…’

I’d hear a voice screaming

whenever, wherever, I’d roam,

always the same voice, and in such pain,

(it was my own)

Kinder voices calling,

once I ran out of excuses to roam,

returned to my lover where we’ve since

made a home

Family, friends, neighbours,

can take or leave us as they may,

we’re all only human, nor any the less so

for being gay 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

G-A-Y, Raised Voices

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

Update, Dec 14, 2018: As regular readers will know, a slim volume of my general and gay-interest poems will be widely available next spring, and I am hoping it will sell well enough to give the publishers (Austin Macauley) positive food for thought regarding a follow-up volume. While many of my poems have appeared in various poetry magazines and anthologies, most gay-interest submissions were rejected. I resorted to self-publishing collections of mixed general/ gay-interest poems; while these sold well, I had limited funds and they were only available in the UK.

When I have a publishing date, I will let everyone know. Meanwhile (as I struggle with online proofing) I am asking any blog readers who enjoy my poems to not only spread the word but also at least consider buying a copy and/or reserving one at their local public library where appropriate. I do not ask out of any financial consideration (there is no money in poetry!) but it can only help bring gay-interest poetry to the attention of poetry lovers worldwide, and thereby help give the whole LGBT ethos  more credibility, and lead to a greater understanding among those dinosaurs across the world who remain hostile to the concept.

Although most of my poems appear on my blogs, I am in my 70s now and not in the best of health. The Grim Reaper could come calling any time; sooner or later, my blogs may well fade into some distant digital sunset.

I appreciate that poetry is not to everyone’s liking and feedback from the gay readers worldwide suggests that there are those gay readers who see gay-interest poetry as a separate genre. We must agree to differ as I see general and gay-interest poetry a alternative voices of the same genre. A poem is a pom is a poem regardless of content just as person is a person is a person regardless of colour, creed, sex or sexuality.

While our sexuality is an important part of anyone’s whole, it is still only a part. We are the sum of all our parts, and I, for one, get fed-up with the less enlightened among us homing in on my sexuality and all but ignoring the other parts.

I have written well over 1,000 poems; of these, a significant number are gay-interest poems meant to be enjoyed but also encourage gay people around the world to feel good about themselves especially any who may find themselves living in a socio-cultural-religious environment that is anything but gay-friendly. Feedback suggests there are many, even in the more gay-friendly western hemisphere; we may have pro-gay legislation here, but you cannot legislate for bad attitude.

I am hoping to be well enough to give at least a few readings from the book to help promote it albeit  various health problems mean these are likely to be only in the London area. In the past, my readings have been advertised locally and well received by gay-friendly audiences across the UK; in libraries, regular gay group meet-ups and other venues. Even so, some people missed the posters, were only aware of a poetry reading taking place and told me afterwards how they hadn't expected to hear, let alone enjoy any poems on a gay theme; now, that really made my day.

Wishing all of you, my blog readers, love and peace always,

Roger

Meanwhile...

There comes a time for most gay boys and girls, men and women, when we feel a need to let the whole world know just who we are.

Today’s poem first appears in an anthology, Never Hold Time, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2003 and subsequently in my collection.

Some time ago, two sixteen-year olds got in touch with me. ‘Ben’ and his boyfriend ‘Matt’ had been in a closet relationship for several months. Apparently, the only person who knew their secret was Ben’s sister; she then discovered the gay section in The Third Eye after borrowing it from her local public library and gave it to him to read. Subsequently, Ben and Matt started following the blog and they have been in touch again since to say they are now out to family and friends and ‘everything’s okay.’

Ben wrote:  ‘I like this poem because it’s easy to understand and isn’t complicated like lots of poems. That’s how we want people to think about us. Why should being gay be so hard for some people to understand, and what’s so complicated about accepting people for who they are?’

Well may you ask, Ben!

This poem is a villanelle.

G-A-Y, RAISED VOICES

Come, let’s shout;

high time the world knew

we’re out

Dark clouds about,

but skies are turning blue;

Come, let’s shout!

Trust me, never doubt

it’s so right for me and you

we’re out

It’s what love is all about,

together we’ll see it through;

Come, let’s shout

Its seasons long or short,

may all love’s paths run true;

we’re out!

Putting stereotypes to rout,

profiling the gay point of view

Come, let’s shout,

'We’re out!'

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2013

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in 1st eds. of The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]

A Tale of Two Halves

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

Among my critics are gay people living here in London who keep telling me that gay people have never had it so good, and where that is true I am, of course, delighted.  However, it is not true for everyone.  The point of this blog is not only to try and entertain gay readers with gay-interest poems but especially encourage those struggling with self-doubt and other powerful forces, internal or external. Gay or straight, it is important that we feel GOOD about ourselves and not let others put us down for whatever reason. 

Acknowledging homosexuality is rarely easy, especially for someone living in a gay-unfriendly home, school, or work environment. Yes, even in London UK, especially among those whose cultural history is intrinsically homophobic. I would remind readers, too, that this blog is read worldwide (according to Google stats) and in some parts of the southern hemisphere, being gay is (still) punishable by imprisonment, even death.

Once we acknowledge our sexuality, we are faced with the question, what (if anything) do we do about it? Some people choose to do nothing, and hope for the best while others prefer to nurture the rose and risk its thorns drawing blood.

This poem may be a tale of two gay halves, but is life really any different whether we are gay or straight?  I mean, who would really settle for half a life when the chances are there is another half somewhere every bit as anxious to hitch up to a kindred spirit?

Like many clichés, it is so true that, ’Nothing ventured, nothing gained.’

A TALE OF TWO HALVES 

He said he dare not love me

had been warned I was the Devil

come to tempt him

He told me he must go away 

or people would say nasty things

about us

He insisted he wasn’t gay

and I had read his body language

all wrong

He put his hands to his ears

as if to shut out my words of love

once and for all

He (finally) turned away,

ran to the door, seized the handle,

and froze

He turned, and walked back 
to me, his tears like the falling stars  

of my dreams

He confessed he'd but settled
for half a life, as better than no life

at all...

He admitted he was surer of me

than himself, had never dared come

this far before

He told me friends and family

would take time (if ever) to accept

we were lovers

He put his lips to mine, bodies

joined in an embrace no less spiritual

than carnal

Gladly, we gave my weepy bed

good cause for celebrating life, love,

sex and sexuality

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013

Love, Never Backward in Coming Forward

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

I will always be grateful to the guy (whose name I forget if I ever knew it for it was so long ago) who taught me the art of kissing.

Here in the UK, as in many western countries, heterosexual couples can kiss in public just about anywhere without being subjected to derogative comments or someone calling for their arrest. Not so, gay couples although it strikes me that it’s mostly gay men who bear the brunt of society’s discomfort regarding any public show of affection in this way.

[Photo taken from the Internet]

It is high time the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority got real and accepted that, like it or not, we gay people are here to stay.

As for leaders of those repressive regimes around the world (and their acolytes) where gay people live in fear of imprisonment or even death, why make complete fools of themselves in the eyes of the more enlightened when a demonstration of simple humanity could not only work wonders for world peace, but even make heroes of them instead?

Why shouldn't two gay men feel free to kiss and express love or affection or each other - yes, even in public - especially when they meet up or are saying goodbye? As for acting on impulse, I'm all for it. What's good for the heterosexual majority us good for the homosexual minority.  Any socio-cultural-religious intolerance of gay people can be summed up in two words - BAD ATTITUDE.

This poem is a villanelle.

LOVE, NEVER BACKWARD IN COMING FORWARD

Take me away from all this
prejudice and bigotry
with just one tender kiss

Well-meaning if thoughtless
people patronising me;
take me away from all this

Time to escape all this stress
if only briefly
with just one tender kiss

Politics but paying lip service
to our sexuality;
take me away from all this

Let religions ram its defences,
to our love, the victory
with just one tender kiss

Leaving those who despise us
to Earth Mother’s pity,
take me away from all this
with just one tender kiss

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

Passing Glances

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

Sometimes when I catch someone's eye (or they catch mine) it feels like we are confiding an entire life history without having to say a word.

My mother once commented that a look can reveal more home truths than a bestselling biography although it would be some years before I understood what she meant.

PASSING GLANCES

Sheltered under an awning

only yesterday,

heard someone muttering

‘I bet he’s gay.’

Can’t help but wonder why

he’s sniffing

at my clothes, eager to catch my eye,

turn up his nose

Who knows? Need to flout

a macho pose

so no one’s in any doubt

he ain’t one of us?

Could it be an inner eye

taking in the scene,

closet self in anxious denial, turning

shades of green?

As for me, I was in flames

fanned with lies,

making believe it was anger,

I fed his lovely eyes

Finally, the rain stopped,

we were in the clear,

free to go our separate ways,

no one the wiser

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2011

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'A Wet Day on the High Street' in 1^st eds. of The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004; 2nd (revised) e-edition in preparation]

P-A-S-S-I-O-N, Poems of Love and Peace

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

[Update (April 2016): Today’s poem was written in 2002, before the Civil Partnership Act (2004) was passed here in the UK. On 10 December 2013, Minister Maria Miller of The Department of Culture, Media and Sport announced that same sex marriage ceremonies would begin on 29 March 2014 in England and Wales.] 

I always think of friends who had civil partnerships as married anyway, as do most gay people I know, but of course marriage introduces a religious element that may appeal to some.  At the same time,  legislation regarding gay marriage apparently allows any religious institution to refuse to conduct one if it so wishes, which smacks of tears all round to me.

Whatever, it was very refreshing to hear that two Pakistani women recently became the first Muslim lesbians to have a civil partnership here. Let’s wish them well and hope they will inspire other Muslim gay people, and those from other religions often inclined to take a homophobic point of view. May they enjoy many happy years together.

P-A-S-S-I-O-N, POEMS OF WAR AND PEACE

We’d quarrelled
and I wanted no truck
with you, wouldn’t
make it up with you;
I took the spare bed,
wondering what’s going on
in your head
other side of the wall,
were you even thinking of me
at all...?

At last I slept,
only to be woken roughly,
duvet torn off me,
merging mouths closing
in on eternity;
two pairs of eyes shining,
blood coursing
to the war cries of angels
fighting over our natural rights
to a blessing

If they won't marry us,

let 'em bury us...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Fighting Talk' in  First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books 2002.]

Still Waters

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

To suggest some people might (still) consider suicide because they are gay will sound absurd to many gay people and the more enlightened among the heterosexual majority. Sadly, it is only too true, especially among young people who have neither the articulation or experience to cope with an awakening homosexuality.  

As I have said before, coming to terms with being gay is rarely easy, but especially if you happen to be growing up in a gay-hostile environment anywhere in the world.

This blog is read around the world, and in some countries gay people (still) live in fear of their lives.

Still waters run deep, they say, and it’s true. Some people are so inward looking (and critical of what they see) every hour of every day is like living on a knife-edge, but no one knows because they confide in no one. It always helps to talk things through, clear the mind, recover a sense of proportion, and draw on inner strengths we never knew we had; to be as we are, not as certain others, even those closest to us, might prefer us to be.

It has been my personal experience that some of the most life-changing events can happen by chance, in the least likely places, and with more than a little help from complete strangers. 

A guy with whom I got chatting at a gay bar once, years ago, likened being gay to being captain of a submarine, skilfully and calmly manoeuvring still waters while rough seas raged above. "Mind you," he conceded, "It takes one helluva lot of self-discipline, and easier said than done, but..." he added ,"I like to be in charge of my own mind and body ..no one else...although...," he chuckled, "there's no harm in letting someone else think they are sometimes. Another beer.

STILL WATERS 

I’d been leaning on a bridge
over still, sleepy, waters below
when a guy came along
and asked the time. I didn’t know,
just wanted him to go

He stayed a while and talked
though I barely caught a word
(in one ear, out the other)
for trailing across my lonely world
like a clip-winged bird

He commented on the weather
(warm, even for a summer’s day)
but I paid no attention
until words like humanity, bigotry,
love and sexuality

That’s when he said he was gay,
and had me hanging on every word
for this was the first time
I was able to share, discuss, confide
my lonely world

We went back to his hotel room,
talked some more, had a few beers;
he asked if he could kiss me
and I could see a twinkle in his eyes
knew my ‘no’ meant ‘yes’

In his arms I felt perfectly safe,
his kiss, sweet, but firm and long
sent mind, body, and spirit
pulling together, making me strong,
this life worth living

Just the one kiss before goodbye,
and never seen him since that day,
to whom I owe everything
or I may have thrown my life away
in a river ’cause I’m gay

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013

Oasis OR The Agony and the Ecstasy of Wishful Thinking

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

How do we know if we can make it to what we see as our main goal in life or is it just a mirage?

Ah, but is that a trick question? If so, I could it not be that the trick is never to stop looking for answers?

Who knows? We might even be pleasantly surprised at what we discover. Take world peace for example, not to mention our own peace of mind…

As for me, not only a poet but also gay, what can I do but run with Apollo, and love it? For Apollo, the sun god, was not only a source of light and warmth but also bisexual, according to myths and legends that were oases in a hostile, concrete desert to a young Roger T.

OASIS OR THE AGONY AND THE ECSTASY OF WISHFUL THINKING

I have risen with Apollo

and strolled among hanging gardens,

each smelling of its season,

bursting with colour, filling the eye

with those that thirst,

and fall on their knees at an oasis

that beggars belief

I have run with Apollo

among bodies strewn like careless litter,

each smelling of its season,

caked in blood, filling averted eyes

with tears as useless

as grains of sand around an oasis

that beggars belief

I have paused with Apollo

and looked back at where high noon

has taken no prisoners,

each grave smelling of its seasons

to those of us who thirst,

risen above tears to defend an oasis

that beggars belief

I have retreated with Apollo

from the battlefield, without conceding

to a huntress moon

any victory of sorts since she selects

her prey at no less a whim

than those of us thirsting at an oasis

that beggars belief

Poor humanity, left reeling from its brief

to thirst at oases that beggar belief

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2013