Wednesday, 29 May 2019

Making Good Time

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

Update June 11th 2019]: A reader, Max, who regularly emails me and appears to enjoy all three blogs, has kindly said  he misses my Google + site since Google recently deleted personal G+ sites, but goes on to say “Whenever I find a poem I really like, I make a note of any search words or phrases in the labels column and use them to find more poems …” Well, thank you Max, and I'm sure some readers will find the tip useful and time-saving. For the record, search words and phrases include: communication, culture, death, dreams, guilt, innocence, history, human nature, human spirit, imagination, love, mind-body-spirit, memory, mortality, nature, past-present-future, personal space, posthumous consciousness, prejudice, religion, relationships, sexuality, society, and time... among others. [Another reader has asked why I often hyphenate several nouns to imply they are one; it's because I see them as inseparable one from the other, a continuum in which we human beings are pivotal, for better or worse...]

Meanwhile...

As regular readers will know, I stayed in the proverbial closet for years; well, it was real enough, and I was in and out of it for years although few people were in the know; the stress was excruciating. A nervous breakdown in the late 1970’s, awful experience though it was, came as no surprise to the few, least of all to me. Mental illness can be a messy affair and mine was no exception. I even attempted suicide, remained unconscious for a good thirty-five hours and escaped death by a whisker, thanks to the efforts of hospital staff and staff at my nearby local surgery where I managed to stagger before passing out. It was a wake-up call and the next few years found me re-appraising mind-body-spirit, warts ‘n’ all.

I was forty-one years old before I finally Came Out to stay; incredible, and not a little sad given that I’d known I was gay from the age of fourteen. My only excuse is cowardice; homosexuality was not well received just about anywhere in the UK throughout the 1950’s - 1990’s, and even now among some families, peers and communities. Old stigma die hard where human nature is concerned.

The evening prior to my finally Coming Out to the world, at work as it so happened, I confided in an old friend who had known about my sexuality for years, being one of my earliest encounters with that species of heterosexual who was confident enough in his own sexuality not to give a damn about anyone else’s. I explained that I felt a pressing need to  come out of that awful closet, but continued to doubt the wisdom of it; it was the early days of Equal Opportunities, but the fickle public was still divided on the issue and various socio-cultural-religious influences prevailed for the most part, as I suspect they still do albeit less obviously so than in certain other countries.

 “Let me put it this way,” said my friend,” Fools may well rush in where angels fear to tread, but do you really want to side with angels or are you saying to yourself, to hell with all that, I just want to be ME, and if that’s a fool’s game I’ll make damn sure I have the time of my life playing it …”

Needless to say, I had already made my choice, just needed someone to spell it out for me. Moreover, I suspect that moment in time is also when I finally, and consciously turned my back on religion to embrace not only nature, but the kinder, more discerning side of human nature as well.

This poem is a villanelle.

MAKING GOOD TIME

We’ll make time for us, just you and I,
where some (still) refuse us the time of day,
but two among millions under the sky

But two among millions under the sky,
wannabe free spirits with a mortgage to pay,
loving life by living for love till we die

We’ll make time for us, just you and I
to live, let live, letting love light up every day,
no matter any dogma raising hue and cry

But two among millions under the sky,
an ordinary couple, contrary to what bigots say
(that same sex relationships prove the lie)

We’ll make time for us, just you and I,
despite needs must discreetly since we’re gay,
and it may (still) matter to passers-by

Hear race, creed, culture having their say,
only, trust the human spirit to find its own way;
we’ll make time for us, just you and I,
but two among millions under the sky


Copyright R N Taber 2019

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