Tuesday, 23 June 2020

Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained OR Mind-Body-Spirit, Up for It


Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2008 under a different title, and I have since revised it,  slightly but significantly.

Several readers have asked how I am progressing with the new poetry collection and if I have found a potential publisher. Well, progress is slow but sure, and I haven't given much thought to finding a publisher as I will probably self-publish again. As I have said before on the blogs, the majority of publishers here in the UK have never shown any interest in my previous collections; indeed, it would seem that poetry publishers in general are inclined to shy away from a volume that includes both general and gay-interest poems. I am toying the the idea of only making it available as an e-book, but may have just a few hundred copies printed as they have always sold. As always, time will tell if and hoe opportunity knocks. wry bardic chuckle

Meanwhile ...

Now, there's a lot to be said for letting  Waves of Wishful Thinking sweep us off our feet and having their way with us on tides of Here-and-Now. Oh, and there's no need to wait for Valentine’s Day to come around again either. wry bardic grin

'Practise is the best of all instructors.' - Pubilius Syrus (fl. 85-43 BC)

Have fun ... but be careful out there.

NOTHING VENTURED, NOTHING GAINED or MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, UP FOR IT

I slumped in a bar, drinking moodily,
in a tug-of-war with my heart,
longing to kiss the guy opposite me,
a target, if ever, for Cupid's dart

I contemplated chatting him casually
(be subtle while making a pass)
but fear kept getting the better of me
as I looked soulfully into my glass

Now and then I’d let my eyes devour
pecs pricking at a tight white tee,
felt myself blushing for sheer horror
at catching him observing me

Did I like what I saw, he softly asked?
(making my every nerve tingle);
I felt like a thief caught out, unmasked,
could but silently pray he was single

I could barely mumble something inane
(his laughter made me look away);
he still had a smile when I looked again,
one that seemed to want me to stay

He came over and sat right next to me
I took heart and we chatted a while,
mind-body-spirit engaging anxiously
in a mad tug-of-war with his smile

During that (half-hearted) tug-of-war,
fear began to drop away from me,
till sex such as I’d but dreamed of before
affirmed a new, gay-spiritual identity

We had a safe, sensual, delightful affair,
practising the finer arts of sexuality
for such a time as such sympathies care
to give love a free rein on its humanity


Copyright R. N. Taber 2008; 2020

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