Tuesday, 25 February 2014

A Gay Bashing

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

There is a strong case for this post/poem being on my other (general) poetry blog but it will appear here first, not least because I know of at least one closet gay reader who has participated in an attack on a gay man because he did not want to lose face with his so-called 'friends'.

Now, it is one of the many tragedies of modern life that there are (still) people and groups of people that are so screwed up as to want to see an gay or transgender person hurt, even dead.

Politics, religion, a common humanity…all have their part to play in getting the message across to certain pockets of society that gay and transgender folks are just ordinary people who want to be left to go about their daily lives in peace. How we like sex and with whom is our own business.

Does a perspective on how (or even if) we like sex loom large in our appreciation of society as a whole? Did I hear you answer, no? So why should it matter if a person is gay?

Gay people are not irreligious monsters, although some religions would (still) make us outcasts…or worse.

It is also a myth that gay people are paedophiles. Historically, the vast majority of paedophiles are screwed up heterosexuals.

So come on, you holier-than-thou brigade and you others too busy playing lip service to political correctness to see the wood for trees…give us gay people (among others, worldwide) a chance to prove our worth, yeah?

What’s that? Gay people have never had it so good, did you say?

In 76 countries, gay relationships are still a criminal offence and punishable by death in six. 

As with all forms of prejudice, the expression it takes is likely to turn on the socio-cultural-religious/ home-school-work environment in which people live…in a century that still has one hell of a lot to learn about love, peace, and a common humanity.

Gay bashing is not the only form of hate crime of course; none should be tolerated by decent people, local communities or countries worldwide.

 A GAY BASHING 

Found him late at night, bleeding 
in a street gutter, near dead

His fine features an ugly sight, 
white shirt turning red...
Called an ambulance, did all I could
to comfort, help ease his pain,
but it seemed a long time coming,
and he but barely breathing
as I struggled to speak, anxious
he stay awake, so scared 
for him that he close his eyes
never to hear a human voice again,
feel its warmth spread over him 
like my overcoat, not yells of abuse
chasing him down centuries,
spilling their ignorance and hate 
on streets much like this one
with more horrendous tales to relate
for any who care to listen

A light rain began to fall like tears
(a God of Love empathising?)

I, too, wept that he might even die
believing the world against him
and siding with its sick homophobes
even though a part of me knew
it was already too late - for them
as for him - given a world 
barely even paying lip service 
to LGBT folks in parts,
hearts sporting logos set in tablets
of stone, fronting public roles
that embrace liberality and equality
while inwardly egging on
the sheer bestiality of any criminality 
seen as justified wherever LGBT
spells SCUM, deserving no less,
no matter if (supposedly) we all of us
share a common humanity

Left near drowning  in a sea of sirens, 
we'll yet draw strength from straws

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2019

[Note: A much earlier version of this poem appears in  A Feeling for the Quickness of Time 
by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]


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