Coming, Ready or Not

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

I have been posting poems on the blogs for ten years now. A few years into the writing them up, a reader asked why I have two blogs, especially as I have made the point more than once that a poem is a poem is a poems just as a person is a person is a person, regardless. I could not agree more, but feedback had suggested (and continues to do so) that many gay readers share a home computer and have not yet felt able to discuss their sexuality with family and friends while they are still thinking it through themselves; for this reason they will not risk accessing this blog...for now, at least. I have tried to compensate by posting gay-interest poems on my general blog from time to time; is is not insignificant that feedback suggests these have been more kindly received in its latter than earlier years. All readers have to remember, too, that gay readers from 65+ countries access my blogs, and in some of these countries same sex relationships remain a criminal offence, punishable by a lengthy prison sentence, even death.

At the same time, feedback also suggests that a good many heterosexual readers never access this gay-interest blog because, as one readers puts it, "I would not want people to get the wrong idea."; this, from reader who says he has no problem with gay people, and describes himself and his girlfriend as "a very gay-friendly couple". So what is he worried about, that visiting a gay blog might suggest to someone that he is bisexual? It would certainly open up an interesting discussion about sexuality if the other person were to voice their suspicions. Ah, but such is human nature that the chances are they would not if only for fear of causing offence. It remains a sad fact of life in the 21st century that  our sexuality can still cause offence to some, if not many, unless it fits neatly into some conventional box labelled 'Heterosexual'.) Communication demands two-way traffic. Human nature is - and has always been - as hung-up on certain 'taboos' as its faux stereotypes; nor is sexuality the only taboo, of course, any more than LGBT folks are alone among those paying a heavy price for road works signalling one-way traffic on the communication highway.

For awhile, at least, I will try publishing posts/poems on both blogs unless a poem is overtly gay in content to the extent it is unlikely any die-hard heterosexual would want to read it anyway.

Here we go then, with a poem I published on my general blog only yesterday, but if you want to read the preamble that precedes it there, you will need to go to the blog at: 

https://rogertab.blogspot.com

COMING, READY OR NOT

Patch of sky, a brilliant blue
among autumn leaves of red and gold
marking nature's 'live' show
for seeing eye and listening ear
to share one last fling
of a year's fruitfulness before winter
comes (for better, for worse)

Clouds gathering, anxious
not to play second fiddle to a spectacle.
of bright silvery sunlight,
like tears in time's eye, a curtain
sure to fall yet anxious
to be seen entering into the feisty spirit
of things, no missing out

Curtain down on autumn's
show of defiance meant to drive home
its alliance with all things
bright and beautiful, all creatures
great and small, promising
renewal despite a winter as certain to take
its toll as snow sure to fall

Barely have autumn's players
taken a last bow than a cruel north wind,
come to see them on their way,
stirs an out-of-sight, out-of-mind ethos
intended to undermine
any mind-body-spirit that might see itself
as the greater life force

Nature, though, is not yet done
with us, relying on its evergreens to bring
to mind its promises, the likes
of robin redbreast to keep eyes and ears
alert to that same spirit
of hopeful discontent that has seen humanity
rise above its worst winters

Curtain rising, all in due course,
but what is this? An empty stage, no players
rehearsed to act out another cycle
of life personifying humankind's attention
to nurture while promoting
a well-meaningfulness, stage name 'Progress'
for want of a better moniker

It is in the nature of humankind
to improve its lot, no matter the cost, whatever
it takes, but plenty signs already
of nature's ability to match any human spirit,
consequences for consequences,
cost for cost, winner takes all, and may the devil
take the hindmost, ready or not


Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

[Note: Feedback - to rogertab@aol.com - is always welcome, and I will always reply to any genuine comments or questions; any spam will be ignored and instantly deleted.]

G-A-Y, Inside-Out OR Life Forces, Poetry in Motion

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

Every now and then, a young person emails me to say they are gay, in their teens, and have no idea what to do or where to turn. Many are convinced parents and peers will turn against them. Believe me you are not alone. When I think back to when I was 14 years old and realised I am gay, the whole closet ethos threatens to overwhelm me all over again.

In many areas, in many countries, there are support groups that did not exist when I was a teenager in the 1960's; search the Internet and try and make contact as this will enable you to meet other young people in the same situation. As for parents and peers, they may well surprise you, they may even  have observed for themselves that you might be gay and have been waiting for you to talk to them about it, not wanting to raise the subject themselves for fear of being mistaken; if not, yes, they may be hostile at first, but this could be an initial shock reaction. Remember how long it took you to come to terms with being gay and allow them,too, time to get used to the idea.

Never underestimate the power of love and friendship.

Sometimes, of course, family and friends refuse to accept gay people, even within their own family circles. This degree of rejection is incredibly hard to bear, but we need to build on the same strength of willpower and character that brought us out of that awful closet in the first place. Believe me, there is a life to be had and enjoyed out there, and there are many good people who gladly take others as they find them whether they be gay, straight, transgender...whatever. We are stereotyped by many, and it is often the stereotype that is vilified, not the person. Whatever, it is we LGBT folks who are so often made to suffer for that ignorance and bigotry.

To LGBT people around the world, I say this. Never, but never let anyone else put you down or make you think any less of yourself for your sexuality. Where staying in the proverbial closet is necessary, for now at least, confide in someone you can trust wherever possible; this may be a close relative, friend or perhaps a teacher less likely to be judgemental than most. Failing that, and failing the availability of any known support groups in your area, be guided by your better instincts and plain common sense until such a time as you can see your way clear to put closet days behind you once and for all, as I did, although, in hindsight, I should have done so years earlier.

No escape from the closet, for whatever reason?  There is an LGBT grapevine in every environment, so keep an ear out for it if only because a closet shared is a crisis halved. I was a psychological mess for years, but listening out for the grapevine and being part of a closet community probably saved my sanity while I wrestled with all the other issues - good,bad and ugly - with which life tests us at any age, but especially when we are young, emotionally inexperienced, and so often made to feel out of our depth.

G-A-Y, INSIDE-OUT or LIFE FORCES, POETRY IN MOTION

His finger brushes mine
across the desk we share in class
and I can feel his gaze
on me out of the corner of an eye
but cannot, dare not
meet it, for fear someone might see us
and guess the turmoil in me

Can it be that he's gay
this classmate I'd joke with about
all sorts, and our laughter
would spread right through me
like fizzy lemonade
on a hot day, its bubbles applauding us
as we sail through the air?

Can it be that I'm gay too,
but how do I know, and what to do
if his finger means business
and he wants to take our friendship
beyond such felt horizons
as assailing  bleary, but half closed eyes
come some know-it-all dawn?

Barely attending the lesson,
the farthest corners of our eyes engage,
attempting to read between lines
blurred by mixed feelings for years,
given our having been raised
to believe one step beyond male bonding
a step too far, the Devil's work

I look away, and so does he,
eyes wide shut, if seeming to look ahead
at our teacher, her lips moving
but any sound coming out drowning
in a sea of intimate images,
and such cries as could easily be of ecstasy
as for help from poor swimmers

Final bell, school's out, mates
on the way home, chatting about nothing
in particular if only to steer clear
of all we need to coax out into the open
from a suffocating closet,
too close for comfort, too real for fantasy
feeding on a vulnerable innocence

Taking a shortcut down an alleyway
we've walked every day for years, turning
to me in tears, giving me a hug
and I hug him back, not a word passing
between us, our first kiss
when it comes, winging us across s history
that once dare not speak its name

A companionable silence descending
as we emerge from that alleyway, bonding
in a new sense of togetherness
transcending our Here-and-Now in ways
defying poetry, prose, gesture,
any spoken word or 'live' art to even attempt
lending expression to its intimacy

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

Mind-Body-Spirit, a Feeling for Gender Identity

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

I first posted this poem on my general blog (it is still there) in response to an email from a reader asking what I have been asked so many times, which is why do I, a gay man, write up a general as well as gay-interest poetry blog. Needless to say, the reader is not gay or he would understand that our sexuality is only a part of who we are; a very significant part, of course, but still only a part. I write general poetry mostly because I enjoy reaching out to those parts of me whose responses to life, nature and human nature do not solely turn on the fact that I am gay. There is more to anyone than their sexuality, after all, the reason a gay reader gives for asking me to post it here as well. Hopefully, though, I cannot be accused of ignoring this particular home truth in any of my poems, on either blog.

Being gay during my teenage years, and feeling the need to keep it a secret because it was considered shameful in those days was a daily torment; it would be some years yet before I understood and appreciated that we are as we are, and there is no shame in that whatsoever. Some people and most religions would argue differently for reasons of their own, but I discovered allies in science and nature and eventually, too, peace of mind at being at ease with myself and my sexuality. That this took too long, I’d be the first to agree as I was in my early 30's before I finally stopped playing jack-in-the box with my feelings. 

Mind you, I suspect we all play that game up to a point. Take gender, for a start, never as clear cut as some if not most people would have it.  A married friend loves wearing women's clothes by way of 'getting in touch with my feminine side'; he and his wife have three children and are as happy now as when they married 30+ years ago. 

For some of us, of course, a growing identity with an alternative sexuality demands that we accept it completely. (In my experience, a sense of transgender persists in many of us, not least those who voice the loudest protests against LGBT issues.) 

Sadly, many gay boys and girls, men and women worldwide are still having to play those same secret mind games just as I did all those years ago; obliged to keep them secret by local, peer and family pressures as dictated by various socio-cultural-religious dogma/ conventions.

Now, to return to my reader’s question …

Not everyone likes poetry but anyone who does and also happens to be gay might well enjoy some of my poems. If not openly gay lr LGBT, however, they would not want to be caught reading any of my gay-interest poems, especially given human nature’s predilection for jumping to conclusions. Only a heterosexual poetry lover  confident enough in their own sexuality to be gay-friendly or an openly gay person is unlikely to care about being seen reading a selection of my poems. I bore this in mind when compiling my first self-published volume of poems in 2000 and feedback on subsequent collections has suggested I got it right. Unfortunately, I could only afford to have relatively few 

copied printed and these were only on sale in the UK.; I hope to publish them as e-books one day.

 “Turn and face the strange.” ― David Bowie

Meanwhile …

MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, A FEELING FOR GENDER IDENTITY

There’s more to me than meets the eye,

beyond race, religion, sexuality

and, yes, even age, for all it is credited

with having reached the living end

of a learning curve we climb from cradle

to grave (no bets on how far we get)

still hoping for credit (decades overdue)

over prepaid rounds after a better turn-out

at my funeral than expected

There’s more to me than what you see

at the workplace, since needs must

smiles all round if only to keep gossips

guessing, rumour to a bare minimum,

private life not for sharing with staff rooms

and shared-office walls well-known

for having even sharper tongues than ears,

vowing such confidences with pinches of salt

for rubbing in any future wounds

There’s more to me than any stereotypes

often bandied about in public houses,

first among equals on hit lists drawn up

by clerics over time to use against me,

entered in cultural archives by hypocrites

needing to hedge their bets on Heaven

and Hell being more than just metaphors,

leaving humanity to make whatever it will,

add more or less pinches of salt

In history’s Gender Diary read all about me,

all too human for a complex identity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

Getting it Together, a Moral Tale OR Upside Down, Come Right Side Up

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

As regular readers know, I was in the proverbial closet for some years, when attitudes towards LGBT people were largely ignorant, bigoted and intolerant to say the least. Eventually, I overcame all that, and told the world I'm gay; if the world didn't like it...too bad.

We have pro-LGBT legislation here int he UK, but homophobia remains as alive and kicking as ever; nor is being bisexual or transgender much easier than it has ever been.if only because you cannot legislate for human nature. Having a go at others because they are 'different' seems to be something of a blood sport for some people;did get  one of many reasons I steer well clear of social media. I am not afraid of trolls, but have better things to do than even have to think about them.

I have always posted the occasional gay-interest poem on both blogs, and my having done so with several poems lately seems to have gone down well with readers who - for whatever reason - only ever access one or the other; this poem, too will appear on both blogs. 

I guess we all need to get it together from time to time, and make decisions that will have a huge impact on our own lives as well as the lives of others. Sitting on the proverbial fence never did get anyone anywhere fast.

GETTING IT TOGETHER, A MORAL TALE or UPSIDE DOWN, COME RIGHT SIDE UP

Once, an Ordinary Joe
was in pieces, in a so-frantic town,
wanting to look a world
in the eye that was upside down;
try hard as O J might,
a growing self-consciousness
refused to put things right

Upside down worlds
make a mountain of everyday life,
its anti-heroes ever struggling
with the consequences of daily strife
reinforcing divisions,
disputing multiple points of view
on its politics and religions

Upside down mountains
offer no more than a distorted view
of some hellish landscape;
no beauty here, not so much as a clue
to the kinder intentions
of Earth Mother, last seen weeping
multiple carbon emissions

Woke up one morning
to a lark' song celebrating its freedom
of the skies, even with pit folk
so often assumed deaf, blind and dumb
to a right-side-up world
letting the worst of human nature
all but have the last word

Now, a new lease of life
for Earth Mother's messaging humanity,
ignored by the local bully
packing a knife, enjoying a notoriety
egging him on to stab someone,
only to end up on the receiving end
in some hellish prison

Better, by far than that, am I,
as human as any in the cold light of a day
that would deny me taking pride
in embracing a 'me' that's openly gay
as friend, mentor, lover ...
in a world that's finally come right-side-up
for my getting it together

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

A Word to the Wise

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

Some parents, especially mothers, so love their friends' children to be the best of friends. Mine was anxious to know why I had all but ignored a friend's son - a fellow pupil at my primary school - during a recent visit to their house, not far from where we lived. I recall shrugging and putting it to her that the other boy and I had nothing in common, unlike our respective parents. "I don't dislike him," I tried to explain, "... so much as, well, he's so different from me.We like different things and have little if anything in common so...what's the point?" "It's up to you, of course," my mother conceded, "...but there's a lot we can learn from each other's differences. Unfortunately, it's our differences that make the world the way it is rather than any willingness to learn from them." I shrugged off those words at the time, but they came back to haunt me at bedtime and have haunted me ever since.

Needless to say, we became good mates, that boy and me and, yes, we did learn a lot from each other even if it did take us awhile to agree to differ about (many) things without getting personal. We were never best friends, but always enjoyed each other's company. Indeed, when I finally came out to family and friends as a gay man, he was one of the first to say it made no difference, even quoting yours truly in so far as our differences do not make us different, only human.

A WORD TO THE WISE

Where did they all go,

days of childhood, where freedom

kept its word, any concerns

easily distracted by an enthusiasm

for new thing, new people

new avenues of thought less littered

with a narrow-mindedness

all too often found characterising

adulthood found wanting?

Where did they all go,

those days of emerging maturity

less fettered by the cares

and concerns of everyday survival.

still in the welcome grip

of curiosity, a sense of adventure,

an idealism tested

and found increasingly vulnerable

in as so-changing world?

Whatever happened

to halcyon days of early adulthood,

few leftover laurels

seen floating floods of opposition,

rejection and humiliation

touching base with needy conscience

and self-awareness, inciting

a rebel consciousness to explore ways

to make itself felt and heard?

Whatever happened

to that rebel in me, thinking to change

a world whose imperfections

are glossed over by a well-meaning

global consciousness, yet out

of touch with a common humanity

increasingly sensitive

to its much-divided politics and religions

all claiming to have answers?

No prescribed wisdom ever made less sense

than in any Here-and-Now

Copyright R. N. Taber 20194

[Note:This poem also appears on my general blog today.]

A Gentle Rain

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

"The quality of mercy is not strain’d, It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven/Upon the place beneath" - Shakespeare - The Merchant of Venice (Act-IV, Scene-I). 

I love walking in a gentle rain; it so helps clear my head, no small mercy as my head is often cluttered with feelings and ideas I could well do without as I grow older. (I will be 74 in December.) There are days when my bad foot plays up, and I feel so angry; angry with the world for all but passing me by to the extent I feel I'm missing out, but even angrier with myself for feeling this way when there are millions of people across the world enduring far greater hardship and crises. 

Walking in the rain helps me to regain a sense of perspective, often the first thing to go into free fall when a person is in pain or simply having a bad day. Having had this discussion with various people over many years who, at times, have felt much the same way, I woke up the other day feeling an urge to express the experience in a poem, and share it. If one of the worst feelings in the world is guilt, , it is also one of the first feelings to grab hold of us when we are feeling sorry for ourselves. We know there are so many people so much worse off than ourselves, yet that pales into insignificance against whatever it is that's dragging us into a downward spiral we need, want to fight and break, but just can't.

Earth Mother works in mysterious ways; now harsh and unforgiving, now the complete opposite...not unlike human nature. My late mother once commented along the lines that, for her, a gentle rain acts as a cleansing of mind-body-spirit, only temporarily perhaps, but time enough to recharge its batteries and make sense of a world in which every day can well be a battle against bigotry, hypocrisy, dogma, convention...whatever.it is that’s threatening our well-being. Are we or they in the wrong? We need to clear our heads, let inner eye and native sense of fairness have their say...do we not?

I understood that I am gay at 14 years-old, yet throughout my 20's and into my early 30's, I was constantly doing battle in my closet with points of view invariably put forward with a logic of sorts, and with conviction, that would send mind-body-spirit into free fall time and again. As regular readers know, I eventually had a mental breakdown and attempted suicide. Recovery was tough, and took several years, but during that time I received so much support, experienced so much human kindness from unexpected sources. that it bears no comparison with a walk in the rain to clear my head. Yet, the latter, too, has its place in our lives, can help rework and restore both confidence in self and humanity; whether male or female, relating to an LGBT ethos or a 100% heterosexuality, I suggest we all need to find ways to get and stay as closely in touch with ourselves and the world around us - including the natural world - as we can. If a walk in the rain can help, go for it.


A GENTLE RAIN

Traipsing in the rain,
getting soaking wet, beyond caring
about health concerns,
cash flow problems, fiasco politics
and other crises
threatening to attack brain cells
but for mind-body-spirit
having none of it, a gentle rain
come to lift a sinking heart 

Walking in the rain,
listening to a furious past-present
ranting in my ears,
growing quiet as kinder memories
find a way through,
as if summoned by piano fingers
to play favourite songs,
recalling all the beautiful people
that are the better part of me

Humming in the rain,
dragging footsteps now quickening
like a sad heart
daring to retrace the kinder side
of a life lost its way
among the garbage-in, garbage-out
of a human nature
so easily led astray by expectations,
left feeling angry, let down

Singing in the rain,
oblivious to any stares from passers-by
curious as to how anyone
might find within themselves
any such expression
as bringing home the sheer joy of life
for its own sake
to one last seen or heard of on the run
from complex life choices

Clouds parting, Apollo
attending a native sense for human need,
penetrating sleepy clouds,
the better to shine on lonely people
taking on the role of martyrs
by way of covering for the shortcomings
of a consciousness
preferring to put self-awareness down
to a short circuit of sorts

Laughing in the rain, free
as a bird from cares of past-present-future
resolved to let the world
see and take me for the better part
of all I am (warts 'n' all)
like any human being finding their way
through such shades of light
and dark by which Earth Mother continues
to test all human mettle

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2019

[Note: This poem also appears on my general blog today; for any readers who may be interested, I started it up some years ago to help - albeit in a small but (hopefully) effective way - to make the less discerning heterosexual aware that there is more to anyone than their sexuality; many if not most either cannot or will not see beyond the stereotypes surrounding us. As I have said so many times on the blogs, our differences do not make us different, only human.]

Crossing Red Lines

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

I am often criticised for being 'too personal' in my poems, not least for my frequent us of the first person singular.

Any 'I' in a poem of mine is invariably a global 'I' inviting the reader to engage with both me and the poem. Yes, there is much of me in my poems, but there is also much of what I have learned about nature, human nature and the human spirit across all walks of life. Suppose I were to use 'one' instead of 'I'?  Immediately doors slam shut on any intimate engaging with the poem. The reader is free to agree or disagree with any poet's point of view on whatever matter a poem may touch upon, or even deliberately ignore, the better to get a reaction.

A poet's intention is always to engage with the reader, offer food for thought, hopefully open doors of mind-body-spirit closed to him or her for whatever reason. [LGBT folks may have more than their fair share of having to bang on doors this or that society or home environment would prefer to remain shut to them, but no one - whatever their sex or sexuality - has a monopoly on closed doors.]

Now, I left school in the early 1960's. Some 50 years later I received an email about my poetry from someone who had been a sixth former when I was still a fourth former. He recognised my photo and I visited him several times in my home town where he still lived, alone. It transpired that he had been as attracted to me as I had been to him all those years ago. We were both well into our 60's by then and unwell, any physical attraction eroded by time and circumstances. Even so, we enjoyed reflecting on how our lives may well have taken a very different, quite possibly better turn - in another time, another place, given that neither of us would have hesitated to cross those particular red lines of the day, had we but felt free to even acknowledge the nature of them.

You can imagine my feelings when I received an email only fairly recently from a young person still at school and struggling with their sexuality. I could but urge him not to feel bad about being gay, but stay positive, and look online for any support groups in his area. I so feel for anyone in some lonely closet obliged, for whatever reasons, to wear another face to family and friends in whom they do not feel ready yet to disclose their sexuality. My closet years were long, long ago, but I remember them as if they were yesterday; the pressure of living a secret life, and the loneliness. Even now, I find it hard to believe there are young people around the world experiencing much the same in a so-called modern, forward looking twenty-first century.

CROSSING RED LINES

Getting ready for school,
knowing I'll soon be with him again,
our secret love, gagged
by socio-cultural-religious dogma
anxious to share blinkered
views of a world feeding dogma
to mind-body-spirits unwilling to toe
its red lines

Sitting next to him in class
much, of the lesson flapping at my ears,
like a sail in a moody breeze
as I struggle to steer a course to heaven
alone knows where, conscious
of his knee against mine now and then
if but to draw my attention to a songbird
at the window

Oh, how I feel for the bird,
singing its song, and no one to appreciate
its beauty for mind-body-spirits
made to play deaf to such music of life
as left to free spirits at windows
on a world with finer learning concerns
than finding peace of mind, his forefinger
brushing mine

Desks drawn close, our fingers daring to say
it's OK to be gay

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019