Monday 29 July 2013

Epiphany at the Cliffs of Time

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

Now, regular readers will know that, after gay relationships were decriminalised here in the UK in 1967, I used to wonder how I would ever find the strength and self-confidence to shrug off the shackles of my closet years. They were, after all, formative years.

I had realised I am gay when I was just 14 years-old (possibly, albeit subconsciously, even earlier) and there I was, nearly 22 and suddenly I was legal! I should have jumped out of that damn closet and let the world know how awful it had been in there! Instead, I prevaricated, and was in and out like a Jack-in-the-box until my mid-30s when a severe nervous breakdown may have taken me to some indescribable Hell and back, but saved the day. Somehow, I came through it all in one piece and eventually clawed my way back into mainstream life, seriously bruised both mentally and emotionally, but clear where my path lay.

Meanwhile, 30+ years on, in countries like Russia, Iran and many African countries like Nigeria, Uganda and the Cameroon, gay people are living in fear of imprisonment, torture, and death. Our hearts go out to them all and our hopes for a better, safer, kinder future. May their leaders bypass their egos and look deep within themselves to find and act upon a sense of humanity and justice sooner rather than later.

One day… perhaps, thanks to those who have the moral courage to stand up and speak out  for LGBT men and women worldwide...at any cost.

EPIPHANY AT THE CLIFFS OF TIME

At the end of my tether,
hope at its nadir,
closer and closer to free fall,
at the Cliffs of Time

I feel only an emptiness,
no sense of peace
on the knife edge of identity.
at the Cliffs of Time

Suddenly, the spell is broken,
(who has spoken?)
waves of words rushing me
at the Cliffs of Time

Now, a lively light's exposing
all a mind's supposing,
a sketchy, existential life-art,
at the Cliffs of Time

Sick despair, failure, self-pity,
but rearing shadows
calling me, pointing fingers
at the Cliffs of Time

Selfies, but sneering, goading
my sexual identity
among fickle clouds gathering
at the Cliffs of Time

Yet, above it all a voice urging
I fear not, the tide’s
for turning, clouds reinventing
the Cliffs of Time

Ah, but I know well that voice;
it is Choice, ready
to call any bluff that's reshaping 
the Cliffs of Time

Am I or am I not better placed
than flotsam and jetsam
answering only to a tide's whim
at the Cliffs of Time?

Crying, 'Yes!' I'll dare turn away
telling the world I’m gay,
having (finally) found my voice
at the Cliffs of Time

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

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