Nerves of Steel OR Gay in Karachi

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

The most important Human Rights award in Italy was awarded in December 2017 to a gay Muslim activist who was originally from Pakistan. The Italian Coalition for Freedom (CILD) chose Wajahat Abbas Kazmi as ‘Young Activist of the Year’

Wajahat Abbas Kazmi with notification of his award. 

(photo from the Internet)

Some years ago, I spent a very enjoyable evening in a gay bar where I met two guys from Karachi. I was pleasantly surprised as the only Pakistanis I had encountered previously were aggressive homophobes. Recently, I met up with them again while they were visiting the UK. It seems the tide is (very) slowly turning in Pakistan where there are more gay activists campaigning for acceptance and equality within the wider community than even just a few years ago. It is heartwarming news although always disquieting to discover that some parts of the world continue to disrespect Human Rights and get real about life in the 21^st Century. 

NERVES OF STEEL or GAY IN KARACHI

Nerves of steel, here, in Karachi

where life may take a cruel turn any day

such as we, savaged for our sexuality

Born a good person, and born free,

yet living a lie (since truth denied its say)

nerves of steel, here, in Karachi

Absurd, that any 21^st century city

should count among its taboos being gay,

such as we, savaged for our sexuality

Family, neighbours, look up to me,

yet mind-body-spirit as vulnerable as clay,

nerves of steel, here, in Karachi

Victims of a contemporary society

where majority bigots (even as they pray)

such as we, savaged for our sexuality

No regard for a common humanity

(of socio-cultural-religious icons an array);

nerves of steel, here, in Karachi,

such as we, savaged for our sexuality

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

No Case to Answer OR Gay in Brasilia

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

[Update, 9/1218: the recent election of far-right candidate Jair Bolsonaro as president of Brazil has sent waves of misgiving across gay and other minority groups. The world waits with bated breath to see what happens next.]

A reader living in Brazil has been in touch to say how much he and his partner enjoy living there. I have to say it makes a change to have someone send such a delightful, feel-good email; and it inspired this villanelle.

Cathedral of Brasilia 

(image taken from the Internet)

NO CASE TO ANSWER or GAY IN BRASILIA

Here, same sex couples live openly

far less looking over a shoulder in fear,

in this long-time LGBT-friendly city

Homophobes, a relative minority

(though just how many closets unclear);

here, same sex couples live openly

No closet approaches to sexuality,

Human Rights respected, and held dear

in this long-time LGBT-friendly city

While others fighting on for equality

(in a world whose prejudices made clear)

here, same sex couples live openly

Love poses no threat to that morality

that socio-cultural-religious groups revere

in this long-time LGBT-friendly city

Worldwide, a message for inhumanity

its peoples would do well to look-see-hear;

here, same sex couples live openly

in this long-time LGBT-friendly city

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

Coming in from the Cold OR Gay in Shanghai

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

There is room for cautious optimism for LGBT rights in China.

Raymond Can Chi-Chuen is the first openly gay legislator in Hong Kong and Greater China although Hong Kong remains a largely conservative society.

(Photo taken from the Internet]

Runners of the Shanghai Pride Run in June 2016 wore rainbow shoelaces at the start of the race:

https://foreignpolicy.com/2018/04/17/its-still-just-about-ok-to-be-gay-in-china/

Meanwhile, Gay Pride perseveres, and let's we wish everyone involved LOTS of luck, love and peace.

https://www.shpride.com/2018/05/20/priderun/?lang=en

This poem is a villanelle  

COMING IN FROM THE COLD or GAY IN SHANGHAI 

In China, gay couples battle on

to regain equality as of old

across a present-day population 

Though an historical observation

bring us in from the cold,

in China, gay couples battle on 

What motive in non-recognition

of Human Rights, put on hold

across a present-day population?

Unable to marry, no legal adoption,

frozen out Society’s fold;

in China, gay couples battle on 

Far less financial-legal protection

(in a State’s deaf-blind fold)

across a present-day population 

Though we gay folks but human,

must we still suffer rejection?

in China, gay couples battle on

across a present-day population

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

G-A-Y, Days of Wine and Roses OR At Home with Sexuality

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

I am in my 70’s now and people often ask me if I regret not growing up with new technology, especially mobile phones. On the contrary, I see so many people preferring to engage with their phone than with the person/s accompanying them, even over a meal at a restaurant or on a night out with friends that I am grateful for small mercies.

The use of personal pronouns in my poems rarely refers wholly to first-hand experience/s; they comprise ‘borrowed’ experience/s, recall from chatting to people from all walks of life in bars, cafes, even at bus stops.  For me, it was a way of engaging with aspects of human nature on which all the arts turn; while my poetry has always been more of a creative therapy to keep depression at bay, it is nevertheless an art form deserving (no less than any other) that its author make an effort to become familiar with form as well as content.

You will not be surprised to learn then that much of my enjoyment in writing a poem lies in taking walks down Memory Lane and recalling conversations (if not always faces) that have helped shaped and reshape my approach to life. As to whether or not my poems succeed in passing on any of this, that, dear readers, is for you to decide.

"Perhaps home is not a place but an irrevocable condition."- James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

  

G-A-Y, DAYS OF WINE AND ROSES or AT HOME WITH SEXUALITY

Mutely, you crept into my bed

and I froze, all of me, heart and soul,

fingers, thumbs and toes,

eyes tightly shut, dreams on hold

of what might happen

once open wide, acknowledging

your body close to mine,

caving to desires archived in denial

for years, words left unsaid

rounding on me (yet again) demanding

I turn over, face you, get real,

let our holiday hotel see the start

of our truly getting to know

each other all over again, kids no more

but the grown-ups we are

Your body closed in on me

and I could barely breathe for joy

of your invading my space,

entering a door in this body-mind-spirit

left ajar for emotions

such as these to surface, encouraged

by shared feelings engulfing me,
and (finally) giving bigotry

the old heave-ho whose acolytes

so love to gang up on us,
on the back of this or that social, cultural
or religious convention justified

only by tailoring dogma to address,

excuse and embrace all its prejudices
with a clear conscience

I turned over, opening eyes

(eventually) looking directly into yours,

holding your searching gaze,

hoping you'd discern what I was thinking,

(knowing for sure you could)

begging you satisfy a desperate longing

in me for you to break

with macho-man taboos, your lips

on mine, a kiss to end years

of making out we were just mates so we all 

but convinced ourselves

it was true, warding off any moment of truth, 

daring us accept the challenge

to all humanity, be positive about our identity 

or play patsy to conformity

I watched the certainty in your face

give way to old doubts, read new fears there

(would I reject him...?)

I had to take the lead if only to prevent tears

in his eyes brimming over,

inviting mine (not far away) drowning us both

in a sea of conflicting thoughts

threatening to force natural instincts back

into that hell we'd dreamed

of escaping on lonely pillows made for sharing

since schooldays when sexuality

had no voice in classrooms for fear of offending

parents whose notions of education

exclude bringing kids to such self-awareness
as encourages direct action

I took the plunge, held and kissed you,

all lingering doubts dissolving into nothingness,

instantly replaced by a fullness

second to none, two hearts now beating as one,

a sense of coming alive again

like nature in spring rain opening up to potential,

making Earth Mother offerings

of pink blossom, green leaves, petals pf daffodil

and tulip, shoots of grass passaging

mud and worms to give every human being cause

to rejoice in birth and renewal

instead of constantly maligning winter’s approach

to a dreary status quo 

feeding all manner of discontent to roots put down

with certain expectations 

The next day, we went for breakfast
holding hands, aware of assorted looks and stares
as well as a buzz of conversation
meant to intimidate us though failing miserably
because we were past caring
what others are thinking, we two ordinary people
having just discovered
how the art of being human deserves better than we
fake it for appearances sake,
as if there isn't  distress enough in the world
without imposing more
on men and women, boys and girls but endeavouring 
to get to know themselves,
as they make their own way in life not as mapped out 
by well-meaning ‘betters’

Years on, a photo of You-Me-Us on that holiday

continues to assert how it’s good to be gay   

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

The India No One Sees OR Gay in Delhi

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

As in certain other countries around the world, LGBT relationships remain a criminal offence in India, Pakistan and Bangladesh, punishable by imprisonment at the very least. Every now and again, I hear from gay readers in these parts of the world and am asked to write a poem. Only recently, I found myself chatting to Viraj, a visitor from a city in India where he and his male partner are forced to give the appearance of living separate lives.

At  72+, I suspect my Muse (like me)  is less able these days, but have produced the following villanelle for the likes of people like Arijit and his secret love, wherever they may be, living in fear of reprisals by the less enlightened who remain immovably entrenched in one form or another of socio-cultural-religious dogma.

THE INDIA NO ONE SEES or GAY IN DELHI

Fine temples casting a long shadow

on centuries of human history,

River of Time running, oh, so slow

In vain may Winds of Change blow

(wake-up call to the 21st century?);

fine temples casting a long shadow

In truth, we came ourselves to know,

(as birds to a tree if never openly)

River of Time running, oh, so slow…

Hunters, a tiger’s tracks surely follow,

(child of Earth Mother, born free);

fine temples casting a long shadow

Where same sex lovers afraid to go

(says the Tarot of social misery)

River of Time running, oh, so slow

Underwriting an ages-old status quo

disrespecting homosexuality,

fine temples casting a long shadow,

River of Time running, oh, so slow

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

Embrace

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

No longer a young man (in my 70's now)  but still a shameless romantic, I was thrilled to discover a  Doris Day album called My Heart available on cd with songs from 1985/1986 that I had not heard before. Doris was in her 60's then (turned 80 now) her voice as magical as ever.

Ah, but it's GOOD to know  this clinical, sceptical Age of Technology has not killed off love and romance, and hopefully never will....

Now, readers sometimes get in touch to ask why I don’t publish my poems on a gay theme separately rather than include them in broader collections. ‘Mark’ complains that I am ‘letting down the gay minority by pandering to the straight majority.’

Oh, and how...?

As a gay man, I hope gay readers will enjoy many of my poems, and not just the gay-interest ones. I also hope that many straight readers will enjoy some of my  gay-interest poems as well as those on other themes. We are, after all, a common humanity, so why publish a volume of gay-interest poems that will only be read by gay people? There is, surely, a greater need to educate the gay-unfriendly among us then preach to the converted?

As for the poem below, it is a poem about the spiritual as well as physical nature of love for which neither the gay minority nor heterosexual majority worldwide can claim to have a monopoly while those that condemn gay relationships plainly know little or nothing about love anyway. I am posting it here simply because feedback suggests many gay readers (all ages) who visit this blog (still) adore our Doris. Hopefully, though, it will be likewise enjoyed by the mixed gay/straight readership following my Google+ site.

EMBRACE

Your body engages with mine
in a purposeful embrace destined
to last a lifetime

Your tongue paints over graffiti
daubed on my flesh by other lovers
for the hell of it

Your lips promise nothing less
than a fine re-working of passion’s
greater artistry

Your hands re-work my body,
exploring its potential, overlooked
by amateurish brush strokes

Your desires make new inroads
where previously only sex has left
muddy prints

Your love re-writes the bible
of sex passed down to me by lesser
mortals

My body engages with yours
in a spiritual embrace destined
to last a lifetime

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

[Note: First published under the title 'Engaging with Love' in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books 2010; rev. version in e-format in preparation.[