Today's poem first appeared on the blogs (in a slightly
different form) in 2013.It was not long, though, before I deleted it from my general blog after a lot of abusive emails, but have re-posted it on both blogs today albeit slightly revised.(Feedback continues to suggest that few gay readers dip into both blogs.)
In the language of flowers, dog roses mean pleasure mixed
with pain.
It was after writing today’s poem in 1991 that I
began writing my novel Dog Roses: a gay man’s rites of passage that
is serialised on my fiction blog:
Few of my novels have appeared in print form as I was
never able to interest a literary agent, but I always enjoyed writing them
(albeit a struggle sometimes) and wanted to share them. To be honest, I did not
expect the fiction blog to last long, but have been very encouraged by a
growing readership and positive feedback over several years - from gay and
straight readers alike - for both my gay-interest and general novels. Why do I
write both general and gay-interest material? Well, not least because I
get fed-up with people who, once they realise a person is gay, choose to see no
further than that; gay or straight, there is far more to all of
us than our sexuality.
Being gay has never overly influenced my reading tastes.
I enjoy (and write) gay as well as straight poetry and fiction. I used to be an
avid reader, although less so now. Moreover, as regular readers will know,
writing has always been an essential form of creative therapy for me; essential
for my general well-being, that is, as I have suffered with depression since
childhood. Now, at 70, it continues to sustain me and keeps my little grey
cells ticking over; not just because I enjoy it, but also because it serves as
a welcome distraction from living with mobility problems (since a bad fall in 2014)
and prostate cancer (diagnosed in 2011). I did not expect to be growing old
alone, without a partner, but I have some good friends, my blogs and blog
readers ... and my writing; it is more than enough to keep me looking on the
bright side of life.
Now, most of us find ourselves at a crossroads at least
once in our lives, sometimes more often. Decisions to make. Which way to go,
and what if...? Being gay is not a choice; we are as we are. The choice lies in
whether or not we come out to family and friends, look the world in the eyes as
a gay person or choose to remain in the proverbial closet; the latter can be a
dark, lonely place as I discovered for myself until I finally got real and
'came out' in my late 30's although it took a nervous breakdown to make me see
that it was a case of get real or stay lost.
The poem first appeared in an anthology, Inspiring
Minds, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 1999 and subsequently in my first major
collection; the alternative title has been added since..
DOG ROSES or N-A-T-U-R-E (ALL-INCLUSIVE) LIFE
FORCES
Dog roses
at the crossroads, twin journeys begin;
a scent of wild desire
smouldering...
within each savage breast,
despairing rest
Choices to make, promises
to break
Dog roses
filling our senses with glad times past;
catching up the moon,
sun setting fast,
teasing our desire,
fire with fire
Choices delayed, promises
put aside
Dog roses
at the crossroads, twin journeys begin;
a scent of wild desire
smouldering...
within each savage breast,
despairing rest
Children of Spring, born of nature,
deserving better
Copyright R. N. Taber 1999; 2011
[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in Love
and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]
No comments:
Post a Comment