http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
Some years ago, a friend of a friend studying in London at the time got in touch and asked to meet up, ostensibly to discuss art and poetry. I was delighted to oblige and we met up at a bar in London of my choice; it just happened to be a gay bar. After a a meal and few drinks, he said he thought he was gay, but had never tried gay sex because he was a Catholic…and could he try it with me because he felt safe with a poet.
Poets, I pointed out, are but human, and we should never make sweeping assumptions about people, especially strangers. (Hypocritical of me, I dare say, having done just that many times in the past.) He insisted I did not feel like a stranger because he had been reading my poems for several years. Why, though, I was intrigued to know, did he want to have sex with a much older man whom he had never met. He said he would feel safer with an older man and we had enjoyed each other's company all evening so...why stop now?
I wasn’t so much taken a-back as surprised since he was a very personable young man; not handsome, but good looking in a a cheeky kind of way that suggested a self-confidence in which (in this respect at least) he was clearly lacking. Anyway, I liked him so agreed, and we went back to my flat.. .I have to say that, among other things, he proved to be a great kisser. He left London after graduating and we lost touch, but not before I learned that had a steady boyfriend, also a Catholic; I was pleased to hear on the grapevine only recently that they are still together and attend church regularly since their religion is plainly important to them. (I may not be religious myself, but I will always respect other people’s religious beliefs so long as they are not used against me.)
If I had any lingering doubts about my sexuality as a teenager, these faded away into obscurity the first time I shared a kiss with another man, my sexual identity sealed once and for all and likely to shape much of what would follow in the years ahead. Yes, I would make mistakes (like feeling obliged to throw my lot in with the heterosexual majority if only for appearances sake) but it was always inevitable that I would eventually (and thankfully) find the courage of my sexual convictions. Even so, it took a nervous breakdown in my 30's before I was finally able to reconcile sense, sex, and sensibility
Never underestimate the healing power of a kiss. Growing up in a gay-unfriendly environment almost broke my spirit, and is no easier now than it ever has been for gay boys and girls, men and women in a similar situation the world over. Even so, attitudes towards same sex relationships are changing, slowly but surely, worldwide, especially among young people...but change doesn't happen overnight and it make take a few generations yet before the bigots lose out to common sense and humanity.
'Thaw with her gentle persuasion is more powerful than Thor with his hammer. The one melts, the other breaks into pieces.' - Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)
Some years ago, a friend of a friend studying in London at the time got in touch and asked to meet up, ostensibly to discuss art and poetry. I was delighted to oblige and we met up at a bar in London of my choice; it just happened to be a gay bar. After a a meal and few drinks, he said he thought he was gay, but had never tried gay sex because he was a Catholic…and could he try it with me because he felt safe with a poet.
Poets, I pointed out, are but human, and we should never make sweeping assumptions about people, especially strangers. (Hypocritical of me, I dare say, having done just that many times in the past.) He insisted I did not feel like a stranger because he had been reading my poems for several years. Why, though, I was intrigued to know, did he want to have sex with a much older man whom he had never met. He said he would feel safer with an older man and we had enjoyed each other's company all evening so...why stop now?
I wasn’t so much taken a-back as surprised since he was a very personable young man; not handsome, but good looking in a a cheeky kind of way that suggested a self-confidence in which (in this respect at least) he was clearly lacking. Anyway, I liked him so agreed, and we went back to my flat.. .I have to say that, among other things, he proved to be a great kisser. He left London after graduating and we lost touch, but not before I learned that had a steady boyfriend, also a Catholic; I was pleased to hear on the grapevine only recently that they are still together and attend church regularly since their religion is plainly important to them. (I may not be religious myself, but I will always respect other people’s religious beliefs so long as they are not used against me.)
If I had any lingering doubts about my sexuality as a teenager, these faded away into obscurity the first time I shared a kiss with another man, my sexual identity sealed once and for all and likely to shape much of what would follow in the years ahead. Yes, I would make mistakes (like feeling obliged to throw my lot in with the heterosexual majority if only for appearances sake) but it was always inevitable that I would eventually (and thankfully) find the courage of my sexual convictions. Even so, it took a nervous breakdown in my 30's before I was finally able to reconcile sense, sex, and sensibility
Never underestimate the healing power of a kiss. Growing up in a gay-unfriendly environment almost broke my spirit, and is no easier now than it ever has been for gay boys and girls, men and women in a similar situation the world over. Even so, attitudes towards same sex relationships are changing, slowly but surely, worldwide, especially among young people...but change doesn't happen overnight and it make take a few generations yet before the bigots lose out to common sense and humanity.
'Thaw with her gentle persuasion is more powerful than Thor with his hammer. The one melts, the other breaks into pieces.' - Henry David Thoreau (1817-1862)
Photo taken from the Internet
This poem is a villanelle:
A
SLOW THAW or LEAVING A WINTER OF THE HEART FOR ITS SPRING
Body,
thawing slowly,
signalling
a lessening apprehension;
heart,
beating joyfully
Hidden
scars, oh, so shyly
opening
up to a diminishing tension;
body,
thawing slowly
Submitting
to fingers gently
stripping
away decades of deception;
heart,
beating joyfully
Lips
parted, oh, so anxiously
to
enjoy the fruits of sexual attraction;
body,
thawing slowly
Rites
of sex applied patiently,
expunging
any dogma of self-delusion;
heart,
beating joyfully
Human
spirit, admitting (finally)
sex
and sexuality to its own dimension;
body
thawing slowly,
heart
beating joyfully ...
Copyright R. N. Taber 2015
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