Street Kisses, and Why Not?

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

Heterosexual couples have kissed in public for years when meeting up or parting or even just on impulse (in the West, anyway) and no one bats an eyelid. Why should they be the only ones to enjoy the adrenaline rush?

Going public about romance…well, there’s no feeling like it! Let people mock, gossip or disparage gay couples kissing if they will. Most of them are just jealous because they have no one to kiss. 

Watching passers-by react to the sight of two gay men, obviously in love, kissing on a crowded street as they greeted one another once, was far more revealing about the darker side of human nature (and living in a multicultural society) than about the couple themselves. One telling comment I overheard was, 'Equality is all very well, but if you ask me, gays belong in the proverbial closet the way it use to be. Out of sight, out of mind...''

Yes, we have gay-friendly legislation in some parts of the world, but you can't legislate for bad attitude. July 27th 1967 homosexuality was decriminalised here in the UK. I have to say, it doesn't always feel like it...

This poem is a villanelle.

(Photo taken from the Internet)

STREET KISSES, AND WHY NOT?

Street kisses shared,

(far, far, sweeter than wine)

its home truths bared

Heart pounding, scared,

you lent your body to mine;

street kisses shared

For years we’d cared,

though the world draw a line

(its home truths bared)

Once we despaired,

most people quick to malign

street kisses shared

We hadn’t dared

give society the slightest sign

(its home truths bared)

Let them see we’re gay,

the love in our faces shine;

street kisses shared,

its home truths bared

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2013

[Note: A slightly different version of this poem appears in 1st eds. of  Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.].

Keeping Company with Ghosts

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

Those who condemn gay people simply for our sexuality would do well to remember that many gay men and women have risked and given their lives - and continue to do so - to preserve the peace and freedom we all desire.  

World War 1 was meant to be a war to end all wars. Yet, it remains one of humankind’s greater tragedies that its history is inclined to repeat itself. 

Since World War 2 there have been numerous conflicts around the world, its various peoples suffering immeasurable heartbreak. At the root of it all, an unwillingness of certain politicians to take a common sense let alone humanitarian or democratic view, and others in the business of selling arms (directly or indirectly) who have no wish to see this or that particular gravy train come to a premature halt.

KEEPING COMPANY WITH GHOSTS 

They fought so we may live

(to fight another day?)

among them, men, women 

who were gay

World wars over, although

the world still at war,

for such is humankind’s way,

(the politics of power)

Middle East a battleground,

Africa tearing itself apart;

Iraq, Afghanistan, ripping out

poor humanity’s heart

Gay men (and, yes, women)

risk their lives daily, yet

we hear their praises sung

but, oh, so rarely

Oh, and just what has sexuality 
to do with a fierce courage

writing up history and daring

to sign each page...?

What, too, of Earth Mother

and peace with one another?


Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2017

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On The Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.] 

Dogma, Selling Humanity Short

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

This poem prompted a number of protest emails when it appeared on both blogs in January 2009. Everyone is, of course entitled to their points of view ...and that includes yours truly.

Many religious minded people (by no means all, thank goodness) continue to look upon gay relationships as unnatural. The world’s religions have a problem with their gay followers. These people are a disgrace to their religion. While I am not a religious person, I would have said God is no homophobe even if I were not gay. Gay Christians, Muslims, Hindus, indeed gay subscribers to whatever Faith should feel reassured not threatened by it.  

We are as nature brings us into the world and that’s that as far as I am concerned. I take exception to this religion or that using it as an excuse to attack gay men and women and make them feel unworthy of the religion by which they were raised. Gay (and straight) men and women from various religions assure me there is nothing in the Holy Books that should be interpreted as encouraging hostility towards gay people. For example, the fact that all some Christians can throw at me for my sexuality is a few lines in Leviticus makes me wonder if they ever understood the New Testament at all. Leviticus is Old Testament and it was to correct false impressions of God as related there that Jesus came, preaching peace and love.

For me, Jesus was a historical figure whose teachings make a lot of sense. As for the Bible, I see much of it as the simile and metaphor of life.

We gay people are not the enemies of the heterosexual majority while many insist on seeing us as such. Perhaps more Christians, for example, should recall that Jesus said we should try and love our enemies? The whole point of the Good Samaritan parable is that Jews and Samaritans were sworn enemies at the time. Surely, love in this context implies an understanding and respect for each other’s differences instead of reviling and/or fighting over them?

This poem is a villanelle.

DOGMA, SELLING HUMANITY SHORT 

If religions have humanity in common

(where condemning homosexuality for a sin?)

why no time for gay men and women?

Why does prejudice get the come-on

(a common socio-cultural-religious equation)

if religions have humanity in common?

Where God the epitome of compassion

(and all for mutual respect between everyone)

why no time for gay men and women?

If freedom is the right of every person,

why make of spirituality a dungeon or prison

if religions have humanity in common? 

Where leaders piously follow the One,

and would take His or Her flock for their own,

why no time for gay men and women?

If God is Love, then long may it shine

upon all those who ask but its truth be shown;

if religions have humanity in common,

why no time for gay men and women?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

Talking to a Stranger OR Engaging with Self-awareness

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

I wrote the original draft of this poem while recovering from a nervous breakdown in the early 1980s. I (slightly) revised and published it on the blog in 2009 after rediscovering it among some old papers while clearing out my flat. I have since (slightly) revised it again and changed the title. 

The poem  continues to remind me how choosing to turning a blind eye and deaf ear to certain home truths can only end in tears (or worse); it also server as a timely reminder to me (at 68) that we should never let old age get the better of a positive take on life.

We can but trust our instincts when we go for the proverbial coffee with a compete stranger we fancy like mad; another good reason for staying at least relatively sober and alert...

Like many if not most gay men, I've had some great one-night stands with strangers that (more often then not) I've met in gay bars  Only on rare occasions have my instincts let me down, but it only takes once to get into a tricky situation with someone who has more on his mind than sex.The only time my instincts have let me down is when I've had too much to drink. So...YES... have fun, but be (very) CAREFUL out there, and trust your (more sober) instincts ...

TALKING TO A STRANGER or ENGAGING WITH SELF-AWARENESS

He smiled at me. I looked away

(companion warning me he’s gay)

resisting an invitation in eyes

I couldn’t help but read, yearning

to respond (freely) with delight,

but family and friends all thought

I was straight so I tried to make out

everything was all right

He edged closer. I tried to follow

my companion’s sharp conversation,

nod and smile in the right places

while keeping an appreciative eye

on body contours running true

for someone working out regularly

and gets a kick out of blowing kisses

at people like me

My companion glared at him,

suggested we leave, find another bar

where private space less likely

to be compromised by a gay man

making a play for anyone

he fancies, but especially those

who choose to pretend it’s not okay

to respond in kind

He leaned across me at the bar,

an erotic cocktail of breath on my lips

inviting me to rub a tingling calf

oh, so, subtly against patched jeans

nor did I pull away the hand

he brushed with his, friend hastily

finishing his beer, insisting we both

get out of there 

At last, I met his searching look,

let him read me through and through,

closed book though I had been

for years, product of a prejudice fed me

by the less enlightened among us,

preferring to gloss over home truths

with stereotypes, deny reality its head,

create fictions instead

He took his drink, moved away,

and (suggestively) turned his back

on me, but not before mouthing

an invitation blue eyes had passed on

from the start while (in vain)

I struggled to give my companion

due attention, resisting a mad tugging

on the heart

Suddenly, I did what I’d wanted

to do for years and threw all caution

to the wind, saw peace of mind

was a dream unless I seize the day,

accept there's no earthly shame

in being gay, refuse to hide away,

let family and friends see the whole

of who I am

My bemused companion left in anger;

I stayed on for the stranger...

Copyright R. N. Taber 1982; 2009; 2014

Reflections on a Wet Night

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

While I do not subscribe to any religion, that doesn’t mean I don’t respect those - gay or straight - for whom it is an important part of who they are and how they live. It is the religious hypocrites and bigots I detest; they are a disgrace to their religion. At the same time, I have met some wonderful people of various religious persuasions who keep an open mind and heart, see neither as incompatible with their religious beliefs, and have no problem with my sexuality. Sadly, though - at least, in my personal experience - they are in a minority. 

Now, I was first asked to post the poem by ‘Angelo’ who had been in touch to say how it reminds him of one night in Rome some years ago when he was wandering the streets feeling very low after a quarrel with his boyfriend. Apparently, the boyfriend came looking for him and they have been together ever since ... ‘although no longer living in our beloved Italy because we grew sick of making out we were just good friends and devout Catholics. We are Catholics, but not hypocrites. We agree wholeheartedly with the sentiments you express in your gay poems and feel very strongly that God does not hold our love for each other against us.’

Feedback suggests that the majority of religious minded readers who also happen to be gay not only seem to enjoy relating to many of my poems but also feel reassured by the support I express in them, especially those living in a gay-unfriendly environment. I should say, though, that others - of various religious persuasions, usually among the heterosexual majority - have expressed the view that I am a hypocrite (and/or worse) for even touching on religion in my poems

Well, it is as it is…

REFLECTIONS ON A WET NIGHT 

Don’t (ever) leave me alone

but take my hand, and together

we shall find our way

through this maze of wet streets,

though faces haunt us,

words taunting us like reflections

of half dead dreams

in puddles filled with hazy lamplight

that would thwart us

every step we take, each look

we care to chance, hoping

for some answers or (at the very least)

potential for safe passage

Nightmares hounding us,

stalking our every move as we cling

to each other like scared 

prisoners in the dock, anxiously

anticipating that we may yet

survive any rushing to judgement

for being gay, shooting down

stereotypes, running a ghostly gamut,

(Hall of Mirrors) created

for a gullible humanity by old gods

resolved to have the final word,

last heard of acting up in some classic

Theatre of the Absurd

Old gods, new gods, tin gods,

puerile jokers, carbon copies of those 

for whom we’re licking our wounds

on a wet night, all but ready 

to take a new dawn into our confidence,

trust it may see less bigotry 

than before, a heavenly descant 

at the ear, misty rain drawing back

its curtain as if in celebration

of a skylark's cheery dropping in 

on a common humanity

free to embrace life, love, and peace,

no matter who or where

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2013

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007.]

Engaging with Gender Identity

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

Recently, I had a dream I hadn’t dreamed for many, many, years, not since I was 14 years-old.  (I was born in 1945.)

It was like meeting up with an old friend, the same spirit guide that led me safely through the minefield that is growing up gay in a gay-unfriendly environment. In the early 1970's, for example, I studied English and American Literature at university; we barely touched on 'Leaves of Grass' and  there was no mention of Whitman being homosexual. 

Now, as regular readers know, I do not subscribe to any religion, nor do I accept the view that religion has a monopoly on spirituality.

“The spirit receives from the body just as much as it gives to the body, if not more.”  - Walt Whitman (Leaves of Grass) 

ENGAGING WITH GENDER IDENTITY

Eyes,

shades of grey

on a summer’s day,

rain on the way

Lips,

unsubtle pout

assuming I am out 

when I’m not

Eyes,

exploring me,

now imploring me,

adoring me

Lips,

beads of sweat

dripping body heat

on my shirt

Eyes,

caressing me,

now undressing me,

seducing me

Lips,

luring me out

of a tunnel of night

into the light

Eyes,

bitter-sweet pain

departing Square One

on a ghost train

Copyright R. N. Taber 2014

Gay in The Garden (of England)

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

A number of blog readers have expressed a wish to read some of my poems again, but don’t have access to my collections or time to browse my blogs. For a while, therefore, I have created temporary, historical records on Google Plus with past as well as any current posts, deleting some and adding others on a regular basis so there are never too many poems to browse. The preamble to some posts may well be out of date, of course, but recent feedback suggests it doesn't bother anyone. Besides, readers can always skip the preamble and go straight to the poem.:

https://plus.google.com/118347623673930289606/posts

Now, as regular readers will know, I was born in Kent the so-called ‘Garden of England’ county at a time when gay relationships were illegal and attitudes towards gay men and women left much to be desired; the latter remains true in many parts of the county. Oh, I am sure many people will deny it - including members of my own family - not only because some of us have conveniently short memories, but also because it would now be considered 'politically incorrect' in most parts of the western hemisphere and no one likes to be seen in that light if only because they don't want to risk being taken to court. Yet, whoever and wherever we are, love creates its own garden where lovers - gay or straight - can walk more freely and probably far happier than many if not most of those voicing and heaping disapproval on their relationship.

There's nothing quite like being made to feel unwelcome...well, is there? Sadly, it is much the same anywhere in the world where certain people so love to rush to judgement on others (often prompted by misleading stereotypes) and cannot (or will not) see or accept that our differences don't make us different, just human.

This poem is a villanelle.

GAY IN THE GARDEN (OF ENGLAND)

Fairest of flowers

found in spring’s garden,

this love of ours

No ivory towers

but temples of passion,

fairest of flowers

Pride in colours

by nature freely given,

this love of ours

Like spring hours

from winter’s grave risen;

fairest of flowers

Temporal powers

may rage but cannot ruin

this love of ours

Where bigotry cowers,

begs Earth Mother’s pardon,

fairest of flowers,

this love of ours

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008; 2012

[From: Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

Mind-Body-Spirit, Making Connections

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

Incidentally, today’s poem was inspired by a very moving gay-interest film (available on DVD) called Eyes Wide Open about the relationship between two orthodox Jewish men, one of whom, when confronted with and acting upon his homosexuality starts to ‘feel alive’ for the first time in his (married) life.

Now, some gay friends take offence at the word ‘homosexual’. As I see it, it’s a perfectly respectable word for a perfectly respectable state of mind, body, and spirit. Yes, some people use it as a form of abuse, but that is their problem and not mine.

Meaning is defined by less by what we say than how we say it. Similarly, the human condition is defined less by how it looks than how it conducts itself. In turn, how we conduct ourselves is defined less by any socio-cultural-religious dogma than by the sense and sensibility of minds and hearts left open to the subtleties of natural human goodness.

MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, MAKING CONNECTIONS

A human body
makes itself known
in a thousand ways,
inner voices crowding
but never (quite)
drowning its mind
or spirit out

Come, but listen to what
it has to say,
feed its needs or hold back
for all the things
you’ve been warned,
told never to forget,
yet longed for in dusty corners
of a mind inaccessible
to a world (far) better known
throughout history
for its darker shades of bigotry
and hate than any light
of human understanding
shown its own kind

A human mind
makes itself known
in a thousand ways,
inner voices crowding
but never (quite)
driving host body
or spirit out

Come, follow or follow not,
ours to choose
freedom or chains imposed
by well-meaning others
who haven’t a clue about half
of what's going on in a man
or woman’s own personal space
in never (quite) sharing
the same perceptions of grace
and harmony as even family,
or friends committed to dogma
stigmatising any differences
for flaws if not sins irreconcilable
with a common humanity

A human spirit
makes itself known
in a thousand ways,
inner voices crowding
but never (quite)
driving host body
or mind out

Come, follow or follow not
ours to let the heart in
on the act and let its beat
lead the world a dance
with our heads held high,
play the wallflower
or (worse) take a partner
for appearances’ sake
nodding politely to family,
friends, peers insisting
our best interests
are of such prime concern
that any bones of contention
form part of no equation

Better (surely?)
to insist on at least one
of a thousand voices,
speaking up for us
as nature intended,
refusing to let the world
drown us out

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017

[Note: This poem has been considerably revised; while it does not appear in my collections, regular readers may notice that it was previously posted on the blog in a very different form. Feedback suggested the original poem did not (quite) work, and I always take constructive criticism on board.]