Daydreamer

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

Today’s poem has appeared on the blog before and is a favourite of mine. I hope new readers will like it and regular readers enjoy becoming reacquainted.

Who can honestly say (gay or straight) they have never found themselves daydreaming about someone? It happens to me all the time, especially since  contracting prostate cancer in 2011 and consequently unable to enjoy sex after years of hormone therapy. There is far more to life than sex, though, so I(still) prefer to engage in positive thinking rather than lend my voice to the world's whingers.

If there is anyone more boring than a whinger, it has to be a troll; to those well-meaning readers who suggest I promote my poetry on social media, I can only say I left it in the first place because of trolls and have no intention of returning. Feel free, though, to give this e-address if you think anyone on Twitter or Facebook may be interested, and is not only there for a whinge or gossip:
https://rogertab.blogspot.com  (General)
https://aspectsofagaymanslifeinverse.blogspot.com/ (Gay-interest) 

https://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.com/2016/05/news-updates-fiction.html (Fiction)

DAYDREAMER

He sat at a table by the window

staring into space, eyes like dewdrops

on a bluebell among shadows

haunting the handsome face

like city kids playing among

spring flowers making a brave show

in window boxes

I lost myself in those eyes,

wandered territory unknown without fear,

guided by the sad sunshine of a smile

along trails I 'd never dare

for their twists and turns, nature

running wild, its call like the heartbeat

of a wilful child

We found each other and he took

my hand, gently pulled me to the ground;

our first kiss was like coming home

after long years away…

and he made love to me right there;

Oh, the beauty, the ecstasy, bitter-sweet

cruelty of despair!

Suddenly, he got up and went out in the rain;

I finished my drink and went home alone

Copyright R. N. Taber 2000; 2010

[Note: A slightly different version of this poem under the title 'Blue Eyes'  has appeared in several poetry publications , including my first major collection Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001.]

The Longest Journey

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

Today's poem was written in 1980. An earlier version appeared in my first major poetry collection Love And Human Remains (2001); the first volume in a quartet of books. I only planned to publish the quartet as I wasn’t sure how including gay material in general collections might be received. However, sales and feedback encouraged me to publish three further collections in 2007, 2010 and 2012. 

I live in hope that a mainstream poetry publisher may  yet come forward who sees a place for gay-interest and general poems in the same volume...but am not holding my breath.

Meanwhile…

What is life without love? Barely worth a heartbeat, true, but it can be a long, hard journey for any LGBT folks growing up and/ or living in a cultural environment where bigotry threatens every step they take.

THE LONGEST JOURNEY

Love, it has many faces,
some gay, some not,
journeys many places,
laughs, cries a lot;
no finer friend you’ll find
to share peace of mind
whenever demons on the brain
come again, again
for its soul...or else we
fall

Love, it has many faces,
comforts, scares us
in least expected places;
tearful, sublime,
captive of its time in a world
not of our choice,
where only its kinder voices
come again, again
to ease the soul...or else
we fall

Love, it has many reasons,
asks questions, tells lies;
a face for all our seasons
where its needs fly
in the face of human sorrows,
through kinder tomorrows,
brave hearts on wing, no matter
all that's dragging
on the soul...or else
we fall

Love, it shows a friend’s face,
to bitter-sweet demands,
ever at your heart’s command,
as vulnerable as any
to the world's darker sorrows
for all its heavenly light
keeps burning, the better to free
mind-body-spirit
for an epic roaming...or else
we fail

Copyright R. N. Taber, 1996;2000

[Note: An earlier version of this poem first appeared in August and Genet by R. N. Taber (Wire Poetry Booklets, 12) Aramby Publishing, 1996; I also published it on my general poetry blog  but later deleted it as a stream of troll-like email feedback became both boring and time-consuming, and I never post comments.]

Mercury, Wandering Star

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

Having been partially deaf since the age of four, I am not as avid a music fan as I might have been otherwise. Even so, a friend persuaded me to accompany him to a Queen concert once and I have to say it was a truly, unforgettably, enjoyable experience, not least for the sheer magnetism of Freddie Mercury; a  gay man, he oozed charisma .... generating adrenaline in audiences around the world  to last a lifetime, and in any subsequent posthumous consciousness.

Now, Mercury, as you may well know, is one of the five planets known to the ancients. They called these planets "wandering stars." Mercury may be seen as an evening "star" near where the sun has set, or as a morning "star" near where the sun will rise. ... The planet is named for Mercury, the Roman messenger of the gods. (ref. Wikipedia.) 

It is so true what they say about music and entertainment breaking down certain social taboos, especially where homophobia happens to be one of them.

The poem is a villanelle.

MERCURY,  WANDERING STAR

On stage, extrovert extraordinaire

masking a shy personality,

singer-songwriter beyond compare

Bringing to Rock, magic in the air.

a star valuing his privacy;

on stage, extrovert, extraordinaire

Fronting Queen with a talent as rare

as any in music’s history,

singer song-writer beyond compare

Winning hearts, minds everywhere,

no matter his sexuality;

on stage, extrovert extraordinaire

High on roll calls sounding anywhere

to rate the likes of Freddie,

singer-songwriter beyond compare

Bold icon of Rock, Supremo of Flair

and making music history …

On stage, extrovert extraordinaire,

singer-songwriter beyond compare

Copyright R N Taber 2019

Beware, I play Dirty OR Myself, My Enemy

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

Today's poem first appeared on my general poetry blog in 2013. A gay-friendly reader has asked me to repeat it here for a friend "who is a great guy, but hasn't the self-confidence to tell everyone he's gay."

 I suspect most people's self-confidence is being put to the test as Covid-19 continues to rage around the world. As I see it, it's important that we meet the challenge head-on while, at the same time, using our common sense when it comes to everyday risk management. 

Once lost, self-confidence is hard to regain, and we all need to pull together as a common humanity to help restore it; hopefully, less divisiveness, stereotyping or rushing to judgement and more talking things through, accepting that our differences don't make us different, only human.

Oh, but I well remember how scared I was of coming out in my late 30's after years of being made to feel homosexuality is an'abomination' and LGBT folks are 'sick' ... not least by certain world religions whose God of Love is often if not usually perceived as homophobic. I still subscribe to no religion, but have met some wonderful gay and gay-friendly heterosexuals who see no conflict with their Faith.

Now, I am no extrovert. Indeed, there was a time when I was a near nervous wreck for having to go our there and meet people. But every stranger is a potential friend, and that's a good way of thinking to get into.

There was a time, too, when I was more than a little paranoid and thought everyone was looking at me, talking about me, judging me...and not only for my sexuality, but how I look, dress...everything about me. Yet, as my dear, late mother once pointed out (but I ignored at the time)...even if that were true, all the while they are having a go at me, they are leaving someone else alone. So I (eventually) managed to substitute paranoia with a sense of stoicism which, in turn, gradually metamorphosed into a growing self-confidence. 

I once commented to a young man buying drinks in a gay bar (it could have been anywhere, of course) that I admired his self-confidence, He laughed, “Me, self- confident? Don’t you believe it, mate. It’s all an act.” He winked and gave me this advice as he went to join his boyfriend, “Try it and see.” So I did, and it worked.

Oh, I never found the degree of self-confidence that young man exuded, but at least I was on track for getting a life. Besides, regarding my sexuality at least, it was the kind of life I really wanted for myself, not the one I had been made to feel for years that I should want. 

Self-confidence and faith in a sense of our own personal identity is a lesson I suspect many of us would do well to learn, gay or straight, male or female, whatever our socio-cultural-religious background.  Sexuality, for example, is only part of the human equation, an equation that can add up to a prize fight in more ways than one...but worth it (surely?) to establish who we are, not only to others, but more importantly to ourselves.

“Our doubts are traitors,
and make us lose the good we oft might win,
by fearing to attempt.” - William Shakespeare (Measure for Measure)

“The worst enemy to creativity is self-doubt.” - ― Sylvia Plath

This poem is a kenning.

BEWARE, I PLAY DIRTY or MYSELF, MY ENEMY

I am with you in sickness
and health, especially in early hours
as you toss and turn,
fretting over a seemingly huge gulf
between early ambition
and later achievement in a mind’s eye
whose vision blurred
by lack of sleep and paying attention
to speculation and gossip

I will seize upon your senses,
throw them into chaos like martyrs
thrown to lions
and torn to pieces for the satisfaction
of a cheering audience
only, on this occasion an audience
of but one, reduced to tears
by the frustration of feeling helpless
to effect a rescue

I have all the tools of torture
required to force you to admit flaws
in judgments made,
paths of action chosen for fear
of what might happen
if no choice made at all, when perhaps
it may have been wiser
to reassign the Devil to hindmost
than imagine the worst

Call me Self-Doubt a native vulnerability
that's any aspiration's worst enemy 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

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

Engaging with Life Forces OR A Universal Passion

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

Although This post /poem appeared on my general poetry blog two years ago, it has taken until now for a reader to complain that it is 'unbelievable' that I can dare suggest being gay is a life force; rather (he says) "it is an abomination". Well, we must agree to differ, a point of view few trolls are able to enter into. I did not leave social media because I was badly affected by trolls, but because I find them so boring and literally a waste of space. He is not the first, either, to suggest that my poems, too, are an abomination because I rarely use full stops at the end of stanzas. Now, as regular readers will know, I see a poem as a living organism that takes its life from any engagement with its readers; rightly or wrongly, I find that full stops - more often than not - act as an impediment to the continuity of consciousness it attempts to encourage.

Love, peace of mind, inspiration, positive thinking, dialogue, taking people as we find them and rejecting prejudice and stereotypes …these are but some of the many life forces some of us are inclined to forget, even dismiss, and fail to call upon to sustain us during hard times. First among equals, of course, is love - in all its shapes and forms; a close second, though, is dialogue, something in which too few people, communities and, yes, families too are inclined to engage, preferring to rush to judgements fired by such speculation as incited by personal ego.

Now, if we really want to achieve something in which we passionately believe, we need to be prepared to stick at it every step of the way though the going be rough or smooth. Maybe if the British Government believed more passionately in Brexit, they may well have achieved it sooner instead of alienating all sides and homing in on a compromise; as it is, our relations

with the E U are looking shaky if not irreparably damaged.

Certainly, if the LGBT campaign for equality that began with Stonewall had weakened, even given up under pressure from the eternal Naysayers in society, we would not have come as far as we have, here in the West at least; less so in other parts of the world so while where there is cause for celebration, there remains no room for complacency, and never is. Every cause worth fighting for will always have its nemeses with which to contend and find ways of either defeating or winning over.

In an LGBT context, it is good to see how the latter continues to prevail where once it would have been unthinkable. Hopefully, we can sustain the momentum and fling open doors previously slammed shut in our faces. Hopefully, too, a time will come when those societies and communities (including religious groups) bent on persecuting us may yet concede that our differences do not make us different, only human, and embrace an all-inclusive agenda of love and peace.

We are a common humanity, deserving better than certain separatist forces driving us apart; politics, dogma and prejudice to name but a few. At least the Covid-19 coronavirus has encouraged some people to put these aside and pull together, see the light in so far as there is really nothing wrong in agreeing to differ, it is but another life force in which we may freely engage without being divisive or judgemental

This poem is a kenning (or a Who-Am-I? poem as a kenning is sometimes called.)

ENGAGING WITH LIFE FORCES

A worthy ally, and necessary

to keep faith

with body-mind-spirit where

its causes just,

and likely outcome much the better

for everyone

engaged in the greater purpose

of making a positive contribution

to raison d’être

Whomsoever engages with me

needs must

feel committed to all ends

in view, no matter

any distractions conspiring to deflect

(even defeat)

such perseverance as treading

a tightrope of conflicting alliances,

no safety-net

Too often, fickle contemporaneity

makes such demands

of those who take me to heart,

expecting compromise,

would all but see me in free fall;

yet, keep the faith,

and count every battle won,

a triumph over the world’s Naysayers

in self-denial

Not for the fainthearted, I, Motivation,

feed momentum to inspiration

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

Dotting the 'I' in Humanity OR L-I-F-E, Choices

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

This poem deals with a subject close to my heart, and one particularly under the spotlight here in the UK at the moment as protest from some quarters grows in relation to the teaching of LGBT matters in schools being compulsory from 2020; sexuality, of course, is but one of many stereotypical closets into which certain people are quick to fit anyone "different" regardless of the fact that our differences do not make us different at all, only human.  Many young LGBT people share a home/family computer, and are reluctant to access my gay-interest blog so I am posting this post/ poem on both blogs today, especially for any readers needing to be reassured that sexuality is not a lifestyle choice for which we often blame ourselves as much (if not more so) than others are inclined to blame us. 

Now, there is good in all of us, just as there is knowledge. How we use or abuse either is more down to us that any 'extenuating circumstances' we may plead if caught out in the latter. There may well be extenuating circumstances, but guilty is as guilty does; we all have a choice. The bully, the bigot, the hypocrite, the liar, the thief...they all have choices. Sadly, they don't always appreciate what those choices are or where they may lead in the long run; all they see and hear is a Here-and-Now egging them on; peer voices, as like as not.

We all make wrong choices at some time or other in our lives, often these can be rectified, even redeemed, but we need to know how. We may choose religion, but that is only one of many choices open to us and a biased one at that. Education is not only about syllabus and curriculum; by engaging with the various fruits of science, literature, religion, whatever...we open the door to engaging with those responsible; in class, among peers, at home, in the maturing mind...wherever.  They may well be dead, these ghosts bringing scientific formulae to our attention, a memorable piece of literature, aspects of a religion... to which we can relate or not... but we gave been alerted to it, and even if it is only with examinations in mind, if it resonates with us, it will never quite go away; on the contrary, it may well alert us yet again in later years when we need to make choices in the real world.

I speak from personal experience, yes, as I often do, but also a lifetime of chatting to people from all walks of life in an attempt to discover just what makes humanity tick; there is no one answer, of course, as we are all different, and rightly so or life would not only be difficult sometimes, but permanently boring. I hated school and didn't do especially well there; it would be nearly ten years after leaving that I would go to university, and subsequently access postgraduate training. 

A psychological mess during my school years (in my 70's now) I may have done better if media, family and certain peers  saw homosexuality not only as the criminal offence it was in those days, but a deplorable if not sinful choice of life-style. Yet, I had no choice. I have always got on well with women, but was never sexually attracted to them because, by nature, I am gay. While reconciled to that at an early age, it would be some years before I would choose to be openly gay and deal with the inevitable fallout from the heterosexual majority.

Oh, and a reader complains that I repeat myself 'far  too often' in posts and poem, what do you expect after having written over 1000 poems?  I make no apologies. Hopefully, someone somewhere will relate to what I have to say, and at least engage with it, whatever points of view they subsequently choose to take. We all need to make responsible life choices from time to time, and deserve better than to be judged for them by those who happen to think we chose wrongly, invariably without any idea as to whatever prompts anyone else's actions.

DOTTING THE 'I' IN HUMANITY or L-I-F-E, CHOICES

I am that free spirit

neither shackled nor governed

by dogma or conventions

imposed by any culture, religion

or formative years

left hanging over us like a threat,

suggesting ‘needs must’ paths

to follow, no detours under pain

of sure retribution

Find me anywhere

and everywhere, seeking to pass

the time of day, engage

in lively conversation with friends

and strangers alike,

show an interest in all points

no sense of rushing 

to judgement, but mind-body-spirit

on a learning curve

Unfazed by such ears

as preferring not to hear or eyes 

choosing not to see for fear

of some unpalatable home truth

finding its mark,

breaking down worn metaphors 

of sanctuary and salvation, 

over centuries of cross-questioning

by I, the accused

I know myself for all I am and am not;

no candidate for some lonely closet 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

Ticking Over

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

Readers often ask why I publish a poem only to revise it at a later date, more often than not a much later date .Feedback at the time suggested that many readers could relate - in part, at least - to the image the poem projects, but something about the poem itself failed to engage them.

Hopefully, a revised version may help restore a meaningful balance.(Feel free to let me know one way or another.)

TICKING OVER

He was leaning against a lamp post, flickering,
almost dead. He demanded a cigarette.
I said I didn’t smoke. I’d have walked on,
but then he asked the time. On impulse,
I confessed I’d left my watch with a pawnbroker,
times were tough

By now the light had all but died as he confided
that he had no money or place to go since
his wife had discovered his appetite for other men.
She had kept their house and kids, taking care
to get all the locks changed and have a good lawyer
plead her case

He was now working all hours to pay the mortgage
keep  the 'ex' happy, their kids through university,
a mother-in-law in clover who had never liked him,
thought daughter could do better; not a bad father
but, so what?  Daughter taken in by his lies, for better,
for worse

Worse, as it happens. Nothing for it but to make
a clean break, no matter how life may turn out
for a cheating a husband and dad so long as society
(finally) seen to do right by a family let down
for being left to live a happy-sad lie - and (nobody?)
any the wiser

Street lamp died. He became no more than a shadow,
a light in the eyes telling me all I needed to know;
A family man he may well have been but now, like me,
he clearly hungered for that intimacy long since
short changed him by a society that needs must preserve
its integrity

I took him back to my place for much more than tea
and sympathy. By dawn, he's gone. Lonely sheets,
reminding me how men cruising invariably wear faces
reminiscent of watches in a pawnbroker’s window
asking to be redeemed, get a life well worth (more than)
its ticking over

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007, 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poems appears under the title 'Living Over the Pawnbroker's Shop' in Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]

Taking Sides

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

In 2010, Serbian riot police fought running battles with hundreds of Far Right supporters who tried to disrupt a Gay Pride march in central Belgrade 

It would be four years before another Gay Pride march took place there, on which occasion water cannon, armoured vehicles and riot police blocked traffic on the route because of threats of attacks from extreme right wingers.  

In 2017, Ana Brnabic became the first woman to head the Serbian cabinet, she was also the first LGBT politician to hold such high office in the Balkans. She marched in the 2017 Pride parade in Belgrade, but progress remains poor; LGBT rights have not improved, new laws are still far from being adopted and there has been no fall in the number of attacks on gay people. 

Last year, saw thousands take part in Belgrade’s eighth Pride Parade; the walk passed the main government institutions, to which protesters have been addressing their demands for improved LGBT rights. Same-sex couples still cannot legally adopt. In early 2019, the Serbian Ministry of Health imposed a ban on those with a "history of homosexual relations during the last five years" from donating reproductive cells for artificial insemination or in vitro fertilisation. 

As I have said before, it is high time humankind began respecting other people’s differences instead of fighting over them; our differences do not make us different, only human. 

The world belongs to no one and everyone; it is up to us all to make of it what we will, despite any opposing life forces grounded in expressions of socio-cultural-religious dogma written on tablets of stone while it was still young, a diverse humankind still feeling its way through the subsequent maze of human nature. 

As I have also said many times and will go on saying…love doesn’t take sides, and neither should we.  Leave love and lovers alone…to enjoy what has to be the most wonderful feeling in the world. 

Q: What kind of bully tries to impose his or her prejudices on others?

A: The worst kind. 

TAKING SIDES

Love will embrace us, straight

or gay, and is always on our side;

no matter what some may do

or say, let live, and let love always

be our guide

It's not love would keep us apart

(love is always on our side)

but teachings (still) demanding

the heart go straight, reject LGBT

for a guide

Trust love to subdue winds of hate

(love is always on our side)

where cultural prejudices prevail,

hell bent on refusing Human Rights

for a guide

It isn’t love that would keep us all

from accessing a spiritual plane,

only those on Society's gravy train

fearful that we choose any free spirit

for a guide

Take heart, LGBT folks worldwide,

where time slow to take our side;

trust Truth to blow the bigots’ cover,

for its heartbeat having  Human Rights

for a guide

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2016

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]

Time Enough for Tears

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

I will be 75 this year, but it’s not so many years (well, maybe, but doesn't seem so) since I enjoyed spending time with a charming young man (29) from India. Needless to say, he made the first move as I was already becoming more than a trifle self-conscious about my age and looks. There was not only a physical attraction between us but also a genuine affinity. It turned out we had a lot of common in both our past and present lives. We continued to exchange emails after he returned to Delhi until he wrote that it was ‘too risky’ for him to continue as he had been ‘persuaded’ by his family to marry a woman he ‘quite liked’. I often wonder how he is now and how he had adapted to married life.

As a result of living with prostate cancer since 2011, and being treated with hormone therapy, I am no longer sexually active. Even so, gay or straight, male or female, you’re never too old for physical affection, whether it expresses itself in sex or just a friendly hug...and never let anyone tell you otherwise.

It is love, in all its shapes and forms, that nurtures the body-mind-spirit triumvirate in each and every one of us. We may grow old(er) every day, but - gay or straight - never a day passes without love in it...one way or another...unless we let it.

Oh, and on the subject of friendship, I have met up with several readers (gay and straight, male and female) from all walks of life since I started the blogs and we have become friends although, sadly, none live in the London area. I live in (fairly) central London and am always happy to meet up with readers for a chat over a meal/ coffee or a few beers; feel free to email me - rogertab@aol.com - if you happen to be passing through.


TIME ENOUGH FOR TEARS

In the autumn of my years
we lay on summer grass watching clouds
drifting on by...
the sun’s twinkling eye caressing your skin
as you dropped your jeans,
pulled off your tee, lay down so intimately
under cheeky clouds,
laughing at us (but wryly, not unkindly)
the sun’s, wicked eye
melting my hands as you stirred beside me,
now unbuttoning my shirt,
unzipping my fly, loosening my belt...
our smouldering desire
metamorphosing us into a mind-body-spirit
transfiguring time and space,
awarding out posthumous consciousness
pride of place, first among equals

Again, I lie there with you,
watching other cheeky clouds passing on by,
chucking companionably,
Apollo expressing sheer, unreserved approval
to see us bare all...
one long summer of love's moans and murmurs,
cooing doves favouring us
with a fly-past, a sycamore’s heavenly cheering
ringing in our ears, sounding out
promises freely made, broken, kept, reworked
untiringly for centuries,
lifetimes spent challenging a flawed status quo,
humanity failing to see
how nothing and no one has any right to claim
a monopoly on love
while urging passing clouds  to save heir tears
for the winter of our years,
to live and let live in loving memory


Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2015

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in  The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]

That Sweet Bondage

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

We all experience degrees of loss, despair and disappointment as we progress through life; many have more than their fair share of all three.  Yet, life goes on and we have to move on with it or let our emotions leave us dragging behind. I have known people who have succumbed to the latter and become very resentful and bitter individuals. While there is no easy route to ‘getting on with life despite everything…’ we all need to find one that is at lease manageable. It will often require courage, determination, and a LOT of positive thinking.

Most of all, we need to rediscover hope, and reinvent ourselves along the way.

When a love affair ends because two people fall out of love with each other...well, it happens and moving on isn't too difficult. Even so, when both partners love each other but one partner wants to tell family, friends and just about everyone while the other - for whatever reason - doesn't...well, that's a really tough one. There's a lot to be said for staying in a closet relationship if two people truly love each other; easier, though, when neither person feels he or she has a choice. The alternative scenario, though, will more likely than not prove too much to bear.  Moving on may well be a necessity but so, too, is the fact that love never dies...however much it may make us feel better to think otherwise.

I have been on both sides of that particular divide. I had realised I am gay by the time I was 14 years-old. To my shame and regret, though, I didn't have the guts to tell the world I'm gay for a good 25 years; I moved around a lot, was in/out of the damn closet like a jack-in-the-box, and only ever told a few people at a time. Once I'd finally come out to the world and stayed out, I couldn't face going back again. True love - gay or straight -  will find its way even if it does mean the heart's having to give the head a good talking to before it will listen.

Big Brother 'Society' would have us all toe whatever line its 'betters' set out for us; thankfully, human nature is bigger and better than that; many socio-cultural-religious conventions have their place of course, but we are none of us in bondage to them, and any break-away ethic, including LGBT, also deserves respect and recognition. Love, in all its shapes and forms, is the ultimate human bondage from which an all-inclusive humankind will never seek to escape whatever our ethnicity, creed or sexuality.

‘That sweet bondage which is freedom’s self.’- Percy Bysshe Shelley.’ [Queen Mab, Canto 9]

THAT SWEET BONDAGE

Came a time, ties that bind

lay broken, the last star snuffed out,

harsh words spoken in anger

stubbornly refusing to be put to rout

by an army of emotions

demanding I stay, put things right

where (without meaning to)

I’d said only what was right for me,

all but forgetting you

Came a time, ties that bind

lay as corpses under the same sheets

where we'd come together,

planning our future, listening out

for a dawn chorus

we never really heard for words

spilled on my pillow

from lips kissing me, oh, so tenderly

but couldn't say, "I love you."

Came a time, ties that bind

ran barefoot into a low, misty dawn

without care or thought

for their salvation, crushing them

among dead grasshoppers

in a frenzy of shamed retreat after

hearing you answer, ‘No way!’

to letting the world in on the secret

that we two are gay

Ah, yes, but ties that bind

once broken can yet be repaired

with the patience of saints

brought to lovers the world over

since time began

by those called in with a will to craft

their reconstruction

with love's finer skills handed down,

generation to generation

Came a time, ties that bind

discovered we could not exist apart,

each needing to hear a heartbeat

other than our own for life to mean life

rather than pretending

at living for failing to let the world

know we are gay,

and you, too, found the words I need

to hear you say

Let the world try to break us as it will,

the ties that bind, they bind us still

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

You-Me-Us, Living the Dream

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

A reader once emailed, ‘I enjoy many of the poems on your blogs but there are too many to browse easily, and too many about love.’  

Well, I ask you, can anyone post too many poems about love? 

Now, if the world so loves a lover, as songs and poems have celebrated for centuries, on whose say-so are the same world’s gay or any other lovers to be judged...by anyone?

‘Judge not, that ye be not judged…’ - Matthew 7:1 [Those Christians (and others) who are quick to judge gay people, please note.]

So why am I, a non-religious person, quoting The Holy Bible?  Well, why not?  After all, this isn’t just religious sentiment but plain common sense, and as plain an expression of humanity as found anywhere…

Gay or straight, love is love ...and don't (ever) let anyone tell you differently.

Now, where nature is inspirational, it is as like to inspire thoughts of love and loved ones - living and passed away - as anything else, for nature, among its many virtues, has the power to tap into memory and remembrance as well as wishful thinking...should we but choose to let it., and live the dream.

It is a human tragedy that many LGBT folks around the world dare not live the dream for various socio-cultural-religious restraints placed upon them, especially during their formative years. There are ways of creating a dream-life, though, that - for all its imperfections - many of us would agree offers a better alternative than none at all; it is called a closet.

YOU-ME-US, LIVING THE DREAM

An autumn breeze in the hair;

fishes, swimming a leafy stream;

birds, eagerly making music

like something out of a dream

Suddenly, change stalks the air,

storm clouds forming to coincide
with gay lovers making light

of human nature’s harsher side

Last patch of blue turning black,
low-hanging cloud pouring dismay
on all a dark world's dreamers
be they young, old, straight. gay

Rejoice as the storm clouds pass,

fishes yet frustrate human schemes,

love’s light shining on all those

daring to share its sweeter dreams

Now, a light spring rain in the hair,

same fishes swimming in the stream,
songbirds (as ever) making music

for all of us who dare live the dream

Copyright R N. Taber 2016; 2020

[Note: this post has appeared on the blog previously some time ago, but was inadvertently deleted.]

A (Gay) Winter's Tale OR Anticipating Summer

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

Lonely? Wintry days seem endless? Well, take heart, you just never know what’s around the next corner or even at the next taxi queue ...

A (GAY) WINTER'S TALE or ANTICIPATING SUMMER

Standing close to me in the queue,

buttocks pressing on my groin;

my sex aroused, I could but surf waves

of desire, riding blond highlights
among waves of his long brown hair;

if I’d stuck out my tongue,

it would have brushed the pale neck

gracing a denim shirt collar

like down of an angel’s wing making

moves on my heart’s reawakening

Moving forward in the queue till just

us pair, a lump in my throat hard

and throbbing like an erection (that, too)

as in craters of a full moon I made

frantic love…to you; a taxi pulled up

alongside us, your turn to vanish

into a darker side of town. You casually

asked if I’d care to share, and I could

but nod, anxious to pursue those highlights

in your hair just about anywhere

In the back seat, leg pressing against mine,

we gladly revealed our names - and

more. It was time, we both knew, to stop

playing games, answer a question

in the wing mirror’s eyes as the taxi

pulled up outside your door;

it was now or never. I yielded to temptation,

said ‘yes’ without further hesitation;

if only a one-night stand, I was well hooked,

my place in your bed long since booked

Wintry days (even in summer) all the warmer

for our being together

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2011

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007.]