Saturday 28 January 2017

Ode to My Love

Regular readers may recall how my partner died many years ago after only a short time together. As it turned out, I never met anyone else with whom to share my life. Even so, I have some good friends and have met some wonderful people whose life stories – happy and sad alike - have inspired many of my poems.

Sometimes people ask me how I can face growing old alone. Well, yes, I live alone but that does not mean I am alone. I have plenty of company, not least my poems.  Besides, love, in all its shapes and forms, sustains and inspires me just it has always done, especially whenever I am feeling low or start feeling sorry for myself for whatever reason.  Friends, places, nature, they haunt my memory and invariably come to my rescue to help me rise above whatever may be troubling me at the time.

My long-ago love is never far from my thoughts and our love continues to guide me through the complex maze we call life. He brought out the best in me and it is that which prevents me dwelling on mistakes, letting wishful thinking distort all the Here and Now has to offer me and (hopefully) I, it.

The great thing about love is that it doesn't discriminate against anyone for their colour, creed, sex or sexuality. Sadly, many human beings do, resulting in lovers the world over having to resort to subterfuge, sometimes being rejected by disapproving family and friends on grounds of certain socio-cultural-religious-principles that love (quite rightly) does not recognise.

Time and again, life calls on us to learn and move on from our experiences, good and bad. We can but do our best. At the same time - as I have said many times on the blogs, and doubtless  will again - it is always worth remembering that moving on doesn’t mean leaving anyone behind, especially those we have loved.

ODE TO MY LOVE

I so love you for a smile on your lips, 
the laughter in your eyes, the way 
your hair blows in a summer breeze,
how tears fall like a gentle rain
from heaven whenever we watch 
soap television

I so love you for a song in your heart, 
how it echoes all around, 
sweeter sound even than skylark 
or nightingale, lifting my soul 
on wings of a prayer given thanks
for your being here

I so love how you flare like a candle 
in the wind whenever 
we quarrel, making up before 
the day closes, recharging 
our bodies, the more joy and power 
to each other

I so love how you shoulder hardship,
brave and true, my hero;
though folks tread roughly
on our dreams
you’ll keep us safe, hold my hand, 
quick to reassure

Who could ask for more...?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2016

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appeared under the title ‘Ode to my Love’ in First Person Plural by R N Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Monday 23 January 2017

Making Out, Fitting In


As a child, my mother would often read or tell me stories. Consequently, I became an avid reader. I loved fairy stories, myths and legends. I used to have a collection of stories by Hans Christian Andersen and many surface in my head even to this day. (I am 71 now!). I could not appreciate the value of those tales at the time, of course, but as I grew older I began to realise how many home in so sensitively on aspects of human nature, and with disconcerting accuracy.

As a teenager, I was past reading fairy stories, but several made a valuable contribution towards shaping those troubled years, I realised I  am gay, but felt obliged to keep this observation to myself. Being gay, I had been told, was something dirty, ugly. I often felt dirty and ugly although that did not stop me seeking out sex with other boys and men whenever the opportunity arose. Andersen’s tale of The Ugly Duckling was an inspiration then and, to a lesser extent, remains so to this day. It took some time, though, before I saw that what looks ugly from one perspective can appear beautiful in another.

So where does Red Riding Hood fit into my life? Well, for one thing, I learned that appearances are often deceptive and we need to guard against wolves with human faces…

Saturated with perceptions of human nature though these tales were, some had happy endings, in the hopeful search of which I have spent the greater part of my life. I experienced some for only a short time, others for longer, but the quintessential Happy Ever After remained beyond my reach. Even so, any share of happiness is better than none and never to be taken lightly or resented for never quite living up to expectations. Happiness, like love, comes in all shapes and sizes whether it relates to a person, place, whatever; if it remains in the memory and inspires us to adopt a positive rather than negative perspective on life, even on its downside, it remains a treasure without comparison. [Why do so many people insist on making comparisons when they are invariably irrelevant; we are all different, with different aspirations and views on life; different, too, in what (and who) makes us feel happy, sad,  inspired …whatever.

As I have said many times on the blogs, our differences don’t make us different, just human. Many if not most of us learn soon enough that life is no fairy tale, but I learned more about human nature from them as a child to help me find my way through its maze. Oh, yes, I have had my share of bad times as well as good, made mistakes (and plenty of them) but - not unlike the ugly duckling - I came out to the heterosexual world with pride and took my place among swans…[I was in my 30's and it had taken a severe nervous breakdown to make me see that being gay is - to borrow the title of one of my poems - worth every heartbeat.)

MAKING OUT, FITTING

The child I was…
would regularly go for a swim
with the Ugly Duckling
or go rushing off into dark woods
to warn  Red Riding Hood
about a wolf on the prowl likely
to devour her

The youth I was …
would regularly wish himself
a very different person
to the one haunting every thought
and move, each hour   
of each day on the prowl likely
to devour me

As a young man…
I would eagerly make friends
with gay characters
in this book or that movie, share
their roller coaster lives,
suffer a thousand cuts from wolves
with human faces

Growing older…
I gave shadow selves the heave-ho
left make-believe behind,
began to enjoy being who I am
without a thought
for that sad other ‘me’ living in fear
of being discovered

Growing old…
just as I take others as I find them
so I expect them to pay me
the same courtesy without rushing
to any judgement
coloured by stereotypes, tailored
to fit small minds

Grown old…
I still swim with the Ugly Duckling
whenever the whim takes me
and regret I was always too late
to warn Red Riding Hood,
but take in my stride that it is as it is,
or so the story goes...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017