http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber
[Update: Oct 1 2010]: Devastated by Hurricane Maria, Puerto Rica continues to suffer, the island without power and shortages of food and other essentials, all made worse by an escalating debt crisis. Our our hearts go out to all Puerto Ricans, and we should all help in any way we can. [RT]
A warm welcome to new readers visiting my Google Plus site. In case you wondered, the reason I regularly add (and remove) historical as well as new posts/poems in in response to requests from regular readers of my gay and general blogs who asked for a shortcut to browsing the many poems there. I never post comments, but feel free to email me any time. (I never take offence, either, and don’t expect everyone to like everything I like or agree with everything I say.) I have even met up with some readers visiting London which is always fun.
Recently, I got chatting to a Puerto Rican gay man (in a bar) and asked if gay relationships were illegal in Puerto Rico. ‘Not illegal, no,’ he said wryly, ‘but tough. Believe me, it takes a lot of courage to be openly gay where I come from…’ He proceeded to tell me how he met his (male) partner, and - as my conversations with complete strangers (invariably in bars) often do - it inspired a poem. [NB I am a social, not heavy drinker.]
As it happens, the young man was from Puerto Rico, but could just as easily have been from anywhere that (in part if not predominantly) continues to think the worst of us gay people simply for the sexual identity with which we were born.
UNDER PUERTO RICAN SKIES (WHERE THE GOING CAN [STILL] BE TOUGH)
We met in pouring rain,
waiting for a bus that never came,
and in my mind’s eye
we made love then and there,
the rain washing us clean,
passers-by pausing now and then
to observe (askance)
raindrops performing a pretty dance
on bodies joined as one,
a watery sun, grinning, oh, so wryly,
world applauding shyly,
but afraid to let on openly for fear
of powers-that-be
likely to err on the side of bigotry
if only for the sake
of the heterosexual (voting) majority,
disapproving for sure,
and (after all) keeping them in power
so can’t afford to offend,
better to let hypocrisy have its way
in the end…
Walked home in the rain,
no tears for the bus that never came,
got to know him
well enough to guess my inner eye
was not deceiving me
nor would he want to be leaving me
at my front door,
expecting (for sure) to be invited inside
where we’d not need
to hide our deepest feelings any more,
but let them run free
of an ages-old socio-cultural history
of homosexuality left unsaid,
its heroes left for dead or in misery
for a life they dare not lead
among heterosexuals whose ignorance
forestalls real progress
among those giving religion priority,
interpreting its dogma
to stigmatise, demonize, dehumanize
LGBT identity
Sometimes I hear rain
singing about a bus that never came
and two strangers
becoming so much more than friends
for trusting inner eyes
to senses honed on years of loneliness
and pain for hiding away,
not for any shame of sexual identity,
but fear of persecution
by those fiercely protective of a history
of socio-cultural-religious
conventions boasting the best intentions
while doing their worst
by good men and women (everywhere)
for refusing to see
how no one socio-cultural-religious ethic
has a monopoly
on a natural born responsibility to do right
by humanity
Copyright R. N. Taber 2016
[Update: Oct 1 2010]: Devastated by Hurricane Maria, Puerto Rica continues to suffer, the island without power and shortages of food and other essentials, all made worse by an escalating debt crisis. Our our hearts go out to all Puerto Ricans, and we should all help in any way we can. [RT]
A warm welcome to new readers visiting my Google Plus site. In case you wondered, the reason I regularly add (and remove) historical as well as new posts/poems in in response to requests from regular readers of my gay and general blogs who asked for a shortcut to browsing the many poems there. I never post comments, but feel free to email me any time. (I never take offence, either, and don’t expect everyone to like everything I like or agree with everything I say.) I have even met up with some readers visiting London which is always fun.
Recently, I got chatting to a Puerto Rican gay man (in a bar) and asked if gay relationships were illegal in Puerto Rico. ‘Not illegal, no,’ he said wryly, ‘but tough. Believe me, it takes a lot of courage to be openly gay where I come from…’ He proceeded to tell me how he met his (male) partner, and - as my conversations with complete strangers (invariably in bars) often do - it inspired a poem. [NB I am a social, not heavy drinker.]
As it happens, the young man was from Puerto Rico, but could just as easily have been from anywhere that (in part if not predominantly) continues to think the worst of us gay people simply for the sexual identity with which we were born.
San Juan - Photo from the Internet
UNDER PUERTO RICAN SKIES (WHERE THE GOING CAN [STILL] BE TOUGH)
We met in pouring rain,
waiting for a bus that never came,
and in my mind’s eye
we made love then and there,
the rain washing us clean,
passers-by pausing now and then
to observe (askance)
raindrops performing a pretty dance
on bodies joined as one,
a watery sun, grinning, oh, so wryly,
world applauding shyly,
but afraid to let on openly for fear
of powers-that-be
likely to err on the side of bigotry
if only for the sake
of the heterosexual (voting) majority,
disapproving for sure,
and (after all) keeping them in power
so can’t afford to offend,
better to let hypocrisy have its way
in the end…
Walked home in the rain,
no tears for the bus that never came,
got to know him
well enough to guess my inner eye
was not deceiving me
nor would he want to be leaving me
at my front door,
expecting (for sure) to be invited inside
where we’d not need
to hide our deepest feelings any more,
but let them run free
of an ages-old socio-cultural history
of homosexuality left unsaid,
its heroes left for dead or in misery
for a life they dare not lead
among heterosexuals whose ignorance
forestalls real progress
among those giving religion priority,
interpreting its dogma
to stigmatise, demonize, dehumanize
LGBT identity
Sometimes I hear rain
singing about a bus that never came
and two strangers
becoming so much more than friends
for trusting inner eyes
to senses honed on years of loneliness
and pain for hiding away,
not for any shame of sexual identity,
but fear of persecution
by those fiercely protective of a history
of socio-cultural-religious
conventions boasting the best intentions
while doing their worst
by good men and women (everywhere)
for refusing to see
how no one socio-cultural-religious ethic
has a monopoly
on a natural born responsibility to do right
by humanity
Copyright R. N. Taber 2016
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