Eyes Wide Shut OR Stereotypes, Identity Fraud

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

It took me years to shrug off the worst stereotypes (still) perpetuated by the less enlightened among the heterosexual majority.

One day, a straight friend accompanied me to a gay bar because he ‘wanted to understand gay people’. Later, I asked him what he had learned. He shook his head and replied,’ What can I learn from a bunch of clones?’

I was angry and upset, but began to wonder if I wasn’t replacing one set of stereotypes with another…?

Whatever the rights and wrongs of the argument, I began to realize that I was not (as I’d thought) reasserting my personal identity, but going along with a social identity that threatened to take away the personal freedom I had longed for after years of growing up in a gay-unfriendly environment. Sexual expression is only a part of who we are, and I was risking the rest of me.

Now, I am not knocking the Gay Scene; it gave me some good times, none of which I regret. At the same time, it was a learning curve for me, and in the end I turned my back on it. I am a gay man, yes, but I do not need to make a public statement about it; I am just an everyday Joe who also happens to be gay and people (gay and straight alike, whatever their socio-cultural-religious persuasion) are as free to accept me or reject me as I am free to accept or reject them.

Life is about being who not what we are. We cannot expect everyone to accept or even like us any more than anyone can or should expect others to accept or even like them simply because of what or whom they represent. We can, though, respect others for who and what they are and for whom and what they represent.

Well, can’t we?

EYES WIDE SHUT or STEREOTYPES, IDENTITY FRAUD

I met a (very) ugly man

in a trendy gay bar, and confess

I wondered what on earth

he thought he was doing there,

but we got chatting,

and after a while I realised

he had a lovely smile,

his voice (a dreamy lilt)

returning me to days long before

I lost faith in love songs

He offered a firm hand

and told me his name, his touch

sending electric shocks

through me as (shyly) I gave mine;

his conversation was fun,

no dull small talk or the usual

chat-up lines although…

he grinned (winking) as he asked

if I’d care to come back to his place

for a coffee, or whatever

Later, sex as pure art form

filling my sad self with a passion

I’d never known before,

this ugly-beautiful man I met

in a trendy gay bar,

sense and sensibility colluding

with feisty frog-princes,

re-working happy endings,

and reminding me why I so missed

listening to love songs

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2014

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

Winning Hearts and Minds OR Confounding the Bigots

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

Fortunately, there are more people in the world with open hearts and minds than most socio-cultural-religious bigots would care to admit.

Of course, we will never win over everyone to an enlightened view of same sex relationships. The hope is, as history suggests, that even in those societies where obsessive, repressive, leaders continue to undermine and threaten our personal and public freedom, gay men and women are likely (in time) to win the war, transgender folks too

WINNING HEARTS AND MINDS  or CONFOUNDING THE BIGOTS

Branded a child of Satan

(just for being gay)

I felt myself drowning in sin

but (finally) managed

to master the breaststroke

and swim away

to a (far) safer, kinder, shore

where the bigots

can have their say (of course)

but any person

of any colour, creed, sex

or sexuality

is more likely to take a pride

in a humanity sworn

to uphold the finer principles

of true democracy

Declared a child of Satan

by ‘betters’ who know

no better (it’s their nature)

than hounding folks

left free by (far) better people

than they to walk down

everyday streets anywhere

without anyone turning

to stare or pointing the finger

at how I walk, talk, dress,

don’t even practise a religion,

invariably given to mean

no sense of everyday propriety

or even spirituality,

presumably a suspect sexuality,

but not necessarily…

Copyright R., N. Taber 2014

I, Legend OR G-A-Y, Centre Stage

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

I am appalled when I think back at how I used to see myself as a youth and young man, growing up during a period when gay relationships were a criminal offence here in the UK.

A civilized society should be above such bigotry and prejudice, surely? Yet even in the so-called ‘liberal’ West young gay people are still growing up and having to fight their corner in gay-unfriendly home and ‘educational’ environments. As for those societies in the world where various socio-cultural-religious antagonism towards gay people persists, they are a disgrace to those same socio-cultural-religious origins.

History belongs to the past; we all need to learn from its lessons, move on, and make a better future for everyone. Now, that’s progress.

There is nothing unnatural about being gay, of course, any more than there is (or ever was) anything extraordinarily ‘liberal’ about either being gay or feeling positively disposed towards gay people; we are all born with a sexual identity which is as natural as breathing.

I, LEGEND or G-A-Y, CENTRE STAGE

G-A-Y is sinful, I was taught

during formative years,

inner self preparing me to out

a bully ethic to its peers

I used to hate my reflection,

for exposing all I’d see,

engaging me in conversation

about life and sexuality

I’d confess shame and guilt,

couldn’t help how I feel,

world shovelling me its dirt

for being me, getting real

No need, said my reflection,

you’re as good as them;

bigots posing every objection

to being gay, their problem

I came to love my reflection,

for showing me to you,

engaging in a conversation

about nature running true

  

Now, no longer feeling guilty

or a loser from the start,

but love to inspire me, legend

on my gay lover’s heart

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2014

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title ‘Mirror, Mirror’ in 1st editions of Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007.]

Between Friends OR Shades of Light and Dark

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

I once had a friend who became a heroin addict in his late teens and died from an overdose in 1967. 

My friend was 22 and happened to be gay, but drug abuse is a tragedy for too many young people – gay, straight, male, female, from all kinds of backgrounds - and there is still too little help available. To be honest, I was more than a little in love with him although he only ever saw me as a friend.  I still dream about him sometimes, and felt compelled to write this poem if only in remembrance of a great guy who took a wrong turning and was found lying in a gutter one day ...

I have known (and still do) people to whom taking hard drugs is socially acceptable, a trait encouraged by a drugs-friendly celebrity culture frequently in the media spotlight and setting an appalling example.

  

BETWEEN FRIENDS or SHADES OF LIGHT AND DARK

Under a halo of sudden light

a familiar figure beckons;

looks, sure to win the Devil over;

designer gear any angel would give

their wings for

Laugher lines in the classic brow,

enigmatic poise teasing me

even now as into the clinging dew,

I run barefoot,

hug anew this pouting saint

to a sobbing breast…

Laughter, through tears for years parted,

brokenhearted…

Catching my breath, no nearer it seems

to this golden haired god

in jeans I’ve borrowed times before,

reaching out a hand,

indulging me a bitter-sweet smile

that means so much I’d give my all

to touch…

Lark into dawn skies, vanished;

a bitter-sweet song,

no listener (ever) left unpunished;

lives as fresh and hopeful as spring rain

till you tried heroin

Copyright R. N. Taber 1974, 2000

[From: Love and Human Remains (under the title, Between Friends) by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000]

Closet Heart

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

Gay people, of course, do not have a monopoly on secrets of the heart. For me, though, as regular readers well know, one of my darkest secrets was once my sexuality. I had acknowledged to myself that I am gay by the time I was 14 years-old. In those days, same sex relationships were a criminal offence here in the UK. Throughout my teenage years, I told neither family nor friends. I was not ashamed, just scared. 

It had so been drummed into me during my vulnerable formative years how being gay was something dirty if not perverted that even as a young adult, it would take a severe nervous breakdown in my early 30s before I’d find the self-confidence to come out once and for all. 

Those of us free to be openly gay should never forget that there are many, many gay boys and girls, men and women worldwide still suffering the awful fear, pain, and loneliness of a closet heart.

This poem is a villanelle.

CLOSET HEART

Secrets of a closet heart,

like claws of a trapped bear

ready to tear us apart

Under threat at the start,

nature’s soul stripped bare;

secrets of a closet heart

See truth’s unerring dart

sent flying through the air

ready to tear us apart

No sweet a fruit or tart

than words we cannot share;

secrets of a closet heart

Tools of a far subtler art

than Medusa’s stony glare,

ready to tear us apart

Endgame, a poison dart

(anytime, anywhere);

secrets of a closet heart

ready to tear us apart

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2014

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Dark Secrets' in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Book, 2010