Not (Quite) Anonymous

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

A  reader who dips into both poetry blogs has asked that I post the poem here as a close friend is having "...mental problems, probably related to all the safety precautions imposed during the pandemic..."

In some ways, this post-poem continue the debate on mental well-being that my poem 'Puzzles, Puzzlers and Halfway Houses' (see general poetry blog) hoped to open, not least because the pandemic will have taken its toll on the mental as well as physical well-being of many of us across the world; a subject which too few of us are willing to consider, let alone discuss. It may not be an LGBT-specific poem, but as I have said so often before, a poem is a poem, attempting to address a common humanity - of which we LGBT folks are a part, whatever anyone else may have to say... 

Now, we are all comprised of many parts, such is the complexity of most if not all human beings as we run a daily gamut of emotions, positives and negatives, often having to struggle to beat off the latter in order to give the former a clear run. Many of us succeed most of the time; sometimes, though, other considerations take their toll. In mind-body-spirit, it is mind that’s likely to start feeling the stress of everyday struggles the most, despite assurances from an innate spirit that all will be well; as for the human body, it so wants to believe all its spirit urges, but our minds may well have other ideas…

It is always worth the struggle, just to let the human spirit win through, get professional counselling if possible. Family and friends may well be supportive, but they are no more likely to understand the psychology behind what is happening to us than we are ourselves; nail the underlying reasons, and we stand a good chance of configuring solutions.

Sadly, for some of us, everyday life is never (quite) enough; we need to find a way to bridge the gap between the personae we present to the world and who we are. Most people make a good job of just that, more than simply tapping into the Happy-Ever-After ethic, but actually living it, despite the usual ups and downs of everyday life. Others pursue the dream, never (quite) make it, but remain content if not (quite) happy enough to settle for what they have. Yet others…well they remain caught between emotional rocks and hard places, but prefer to pretend otherwise, thereby succeeding in (almost) convincing themselves (and others) that all’s well in their personal space, so...no worries...!

Sharing an emotional as well as any other problem with a trusty confidante is always a good idea; it not only halves the burden in helping to bring it into focus, but openly acknowledging its very existence has to be a good start, too, in helping to find a solution if only because we are no longer having to muddle through on our own.

NOT (QUITE) ANONYMOUS

No one ever (quite) gets to know me,
although some may like to think they do,
for whatever it is I've let them see;
no one ever (quite) understands my reality,
though some may yet get to find
and follow clues left in prose and poetry;
no one ever (quite) gets close to me
sufficiently to hear just what the mind-body
takes for a sense of spirituality 

No one ever (quite) understands a self
in me that certain other selves do their best
to put down, even bully into agreeing
motions no joint mind-body-spirit inspires
only certain rogue elements reluctant
to ever accept any such majority decisions 
that exclude them from personal space,
has them force a different pace, leave its host
(that's me) to do its best...or worst 

No one ever (quite) gets to unearth in me
such roots as only ever sought to grow, flower
forever in a loved one’s own eternity;
no one ever (quite) gets a response from me
along lines of any mistakes I've made,
abandoned to shallow graves in living memory;
hopefully, some may come to think of me, 
once I am no more, see that any kinder parts
have as great a say in my history...

I am that life-force driving humanity’s choices
to lend mind-body-spirit its truer voices

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

Hi Folks, from London UK

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

Hi folks, from London UK

No poem today, but I should have one ready for you for Monday.

Reader A. S. has emailed to ask how badly the pandemic has affected me, and if I feel now much as I used to before it struck. It would appear that he or she is estranged from their family because for not sharing the same religious faith; clearly both are preying on the reader's mind.

Well, like many if not most people, the pandemic, lockdowns etc. have taken their toll on me, but I do try to practise what I preach with regard to nurturing a positive mindset. Growing old and living alone is never going to be easy. We can but take each day as it comes. The recent death of a former work colleague I knew well hit me hard, the more so, I suspect, because of the stress the pandemic was already imposing. I became all but obsessed with the prospect of dying for some weeks to the extent that I was prompted to revise my Will.

As regular readers will know, I do not subscribe to any religion. It is my choice and I would ask others to respect it just as I respect those who do subscribe to this religion or that, although the former has rarely been my experience among the devout. I have strong views about world religions, not least because I am gay and they make LGBT folks feel excluded, even from having a sense of spirituality to which, as both poet and Pantheist, I do subscribe, very much so. 

For me, personally, religion embodies the sentiment expressed by George Orwell in his satirical novel, Animal Farm: 'All animals are equal, but some are more equal that others.' Certainly, in the world today, much the same applies to human beings, even in the context of religion. Another former work colleague once told me that she enjoyed working with me and was so sorry that I was destined to go to hell (for being gay).  Needless to say, I was neither fazed nor impressed. As far as I'm concerned, we make our own heaven or hell here on Earth, which, given the ways of the world we live in, is not too difficult. 

Many if not most of us fear death, not least myself although I fear an physical pain it may involve than death itself. Nor, incidentally, do I see it as a taboo or even morbid subject. On the contrary, death is as much part and parcel of life as life itself. As I see it, it's not only pragmatic, but also healthy to consider its implications, not only for ourselves, but loved ones too; the legal implications for the latter if we die intestate, for example, can provide the latter with a mountain to climb at a time when they are likely to be grieving. (While we all have our own ways of dealing with grief, none of them are easy.) 

I have written poems about death, not from a sense of morbidity, but to help me come to terms with the prospect in such a way as to prevent it taking over my life as I have seen happen with some people; this was my intention in my poem, Extracts from a Pantheist's Diary about which I received several nasty emails  No offence was intended, however, so I did not publish the apology they demanded. As I ask on the blogs fairly often - including a poem of the same name - whatever happened to agreeing to differ? 

When I die, I will be cremated, and if any of my organs can be of use to anyone, they are welcome. As for 'eternal life' I see that as my living on in the memories of those closest to me, possibly even passed from generation to generation across time and personal space; among complete strangers even, too, with whom I may have engaged in one-off existential chat on public transport, as I do now and then. Certainly, I remember what the latter had to say and have already passed it on...as  I would like to think at least some of my poems may provide food for thought enough to be passed on in much the same  way, although I remain very pragmatic on that front, too, and don't, as one reader put to me only recently ."delude" myself that I'm  a "great" poet. 

Ah, but enough s enough methinks, for now at least. All that remains is for me to  say thanks for dropping by and hope you will do so again soon. Take are, keep well and, yes, be sure to nurture a positive mindset, if only because the alternative is a sure way to make a living hell for ourselves. Life is better than that, so are we.

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: This post also appears on mu general poetry blog today,] RNT

The Tree House

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

To the reader who asked why I don't always post my poems on both poetry blogs, I have relatively few readers who access my gay-interest poetry now, especially since feedback suggests that many gay poetry lovers who have dipped into its archives now dip into both blogs, having come to see that a poem is a poem is a poem, regardless of whether or not they can relate directly to it; every poem has something to say that's (hopefully) worth addressing.  

Sadly, although attitudes towards LGBT folks around the world are changing for the better, there are still many people various whose prejudices remain fuelled by misleading stereotypes and various socio-cultural-religious agendas.

Now, genealogy is a fascinating subject for many of us, especially given that our genes contribute so much to the kind of person we are; our mind-body-spirit may well owe more to them than we will ever know. 

It is always rewarding to study a family tree, put names to descendants too distant in time to have their photos in the family album, and go on to discover as much about them as we can. (Invariably, the experience is well worth any search fee). The Society of Genealogists here in London, for example, is always welcoming new members who want to explore its resources to research a past to which their own family is leaf and branch.

THE TREE HOUSE

I come to the tree house
to catch up with family members
I had only ever met
in a mind-body-spirit always curious
about this person and that
as referred to (if only incidentally)
in conversations as likely as not to ask
even more of me   

Home truths and myths,
resting here among their peers,
not only invoke history
but create its very fabrics themselves,
attracting families worldwide
to the tree house, hoping to find
enough to help explain any glaring gaps 
in their archives  

Life takes on new meaning
in the tree house, inviting empathy
with those less likely
to have made history books for news
of neither fame nor fortune,
but simply having tried to make a life
for men, women, children to whom I’m
kith and kin 

I come to the tree house
to look for clues, travel across time,
ask past generations
for any such points of reference
as may yet assist me 
in seeing just how it was we came
to be, in my capacity as leaf and branch
of its history 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

[Note: This poet-poem appears on both poetry blogs today.] RNT

Hello again, from London UK

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

Hello again, from London UK

No poem today, but I hope to have one ready for you fairly soon. I don't expect everyone to like every poem, of course, but I feel encouraged that many of you continue to stick with this struggling senior as, like many of you, I struggle with all the changes in everyday life that the coronavirus has imposed. 

A reader asks if I practise what I preach with regard to nurturing a positive mindset. Well, I do my best and manage to do so most of the time, but like all of us, I have good days and bad days.  I can only speak from the perspective of an old codger living alone; different people will have different problem. Partners will have each other to share any difficulties with, but in the kind of circumstances imposed on us by the coronavirus, tempers may well fray. Families will have encountered a different spectrum of problems altogether, especially those with young children. For many if not most  older children and young people, not being able to mix with friends and peers will have been a waking nightmare.

Now, living alone and growing old ain't easy at the best of times. Everything takes so much longer and I get tired so much more easily. Everyday tasks - like stripping a bed and turning a mattress - are a challenge; it takes me ages to replace a duvet cover now too.😊

I coped well with the first lockdown here in the UK, but the latter stages of the second were a nightmare. I often felt lonely, and scared too, a though the latter has more to do with the hormone therapy for my prostate cancer as it can have that effect on some people sometimes. An ear infection and mobility problems haven't helped. So, how do I cope with it all...? Well, better some days than others, that's for sure.😉 

I try to keep reminding myself that there are so many people in the world so much worse off than myself, some of whom I know personally. I tell myself that if they can cope, so can I. Writing up the blogs and posting poems when I can has been a godsend; it distracts me not only from my own problems, but the whole coronavirus scenario. I think everyone needs to find ways of distracting themselves from any personal problems anyway  (coronavirus or no coronavirus) whether it's pursuing a hobby or just watching a favourite video/ TV programme. Me, I avoid News programmes apart from catching up with the headlines. While I am interested and concerned about what else  is going on in the mad, mad world of ours...there is just so much a person can take when so much of it is so depressing.

Now, although lockdown restrictions are being lifted here in the UK, we still have to deal with the threat of a so-called Indian variant, already prevalent in parts. Yet again, all we can do is take care, and (yes!) nurture a positive thinking mindset. We won't always succeed, but just trying can make all the difference.

As I have said on past blogs, I honestly think a healthy diet is a huge help when it comes to dealing with stress.

At the end of the day, of course, we are all different and needs must find our own way through our own waking nightmares. As my mother used to say, though, we should never be afraid to ask for help, never think anyone will think the worse of us for doing so. Each of us, in our own way is, vulnerable; if counselling is not an option and there is no close friend on hand or at the end of a telephone, call The Samaritans. Even simply talking (or writing) about our worst fears can give us an entirely new perspective on them. If I had confided my problems with being a gay man so someone years earlier, I may well have avoided a nasty nervous breakdown in early 30's.

What else can I say for now but... good luck everyone, and bear in mind that most of the time it's down to each and every one of us to make our own luck... or not, as the case may be.

Take care, everyone, and many thanks for dropping by.

Hugs,

Roger

PS In the course of transferring about 1000 poems to a memory stick (so far unpublished except on the blogs) I have significantly revised more earlier poems that you will find in the blog archives. Do feel free to browse now and then, and I hope any revisions (including some titles) will meet with your approval...but won't be offended if they don't. 😉

[Note: This post also appears on my general blog today. Oh, and many, many thanks to the reader from Spain who emailed to say that he has enjoyed working his way through through my fiction blog "... as well as both poetry blogs." It has made my day,] RNT

You-Me-US, Peopling a kinder Eternity

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

People often tell me how close they feel to family and close friends that have died or drifted out of their lives for having moved away or whatever… and lost touch. I know the feeling only too well. During coronavirus lockdowns and feeling lonely and/or increasingly ill and no one with whom to exchange mutual whinges (thereby all but restoring a sense of proportion once again) I have been visited my many a ghost from the past, even from as long ago as schooldays… and I’m 75 now!

On the whole, they are a comfort, my ghosts although there are always one or two who feel the need to have a go at me for this or that reason; I guess many of us regret, in hindsight, how we may have treated people in our past, whether intentionally or otherwise.

A friend once told me he wished he had fewer regrets, but mostly only had himself to blame for them and playing the blame game never did anyone any favours, so he focuses on happy memories in the company of family and friends instead. Another friend, present at the time, commented to the effect that it was a very selfish attitude. Me, I am all for a healthy mind-body-spirit; any happy memories always need to be at the top of anyone's agenda for mind-body-spirit.  Bad memories may well hover, but the kinder ones will always see to it that they don't get much of a look-in so long as we continue to nurture a positive mindset.  Not always easy, that's true, but always worth the effort.

As my mother used to say, life is too short to keep looking back when there is so much to look forward to if we but pause a moment or two to think about it, even if it does take the form of wishful thinking as often as not…

YOU-ME-US, PEOPLING A KINDER ETERNITY

Inner eye, clouding over,
mixed feeling tearfully washing away
favourite memories,
mind-body-spirit left to make what it will
of free fall, feeding on
such details as it can still make out
and taking heart…
even as Time plays its cat and mouse games
with us

Here-and-Now, a window
on a you-me-us still letting in sunshine
as it has always done,
even if the view now misting over, curtains
all but closed;
yet, weary though Apollo may be
of giving way…
there’s still (potentially) time yet for keeping
promises

Promises, no more or less kept
or broken as those we make to ourselves
and each other, meaning well,
but misled by finger messages on the heart’s
window, left ajar…
to keep the air (and us) flowing as freely
as possible while mulling
a shared past-present’s failings in living up 
to its future 

Given a misting over windows
on the heart all but making us prisoners,
any finger messages
haunt us like ghosts played out in all shades
of light ‘n’ dark
if only for a peace and love their promises
challenged us to make or break
as the case may be, with the happy-sad poetry
of humanity

Night falls, Apollo’s turn to haunt us,
try to lighten our heavier loads, taking us
through the motions,
encouraging us to attend to the world’s evils,
demanding we rise above them,
(win some, lose some) even as a Darkness
called Death sheds light enough
on all living history to form the kinder landscape
of our eternity

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

[Note: This post-poem also appears on my general poetry blog today, given that feedback suggests many LGBT readers do not visit both blogs.] RNT

Hi everyone, from London UK

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

Hi everyone from London UK,

No poem today but I’m working on one in between the usual chores and hope to publish it here fairly soon. Nothing new here at all, really, but whenever anyone emails me, it is nearly always along much the same lines as this prose post at attempts to cover. The stress caused by the pandemic appears to have raised a whole gamut of conflicting feelings in many if not most of us.

A reader asks why I am revising many poems in the blog archives whole not leaving the originals for readers to compare. Comparisons can always be made with earlier versions that appear in my collections; to date, only a limited number were ever published, but I hope to eventually make them all available online. At the moment, I am struggling to put all unpublished poems (including any revisions) on a memory stick just in case I get ill and cannot press ahead with new collections, in which event my best friend, Graham, has said that he will see to it that they are published; in the meantime, anyone interested can always access any poem here or on my gay-interest poetry blog.

Another reader asks how on earth I manage to write poetry at my age (75) and living alone with a pandemic raging. Well, as I have said before, it is as much a form of creative therapy to take my mind off the coronavirus threat as wanting to communicate my ideas and feelings to anyone who may be interested.

I was a closet gay man for some years, before coming out to all and sundry in my 30’s so the motivation for a gay blog had always been there. Even in the western hemisphere there is still a lot of antipathy towards gay people, especially gay men, worse still if they are raised in any of the world religions. Religion, in the light of my own experience and experiences shared with LGBT folks around the world, from all manner of socio-cultural-religious backgrounds, has proven itself to be our worst enemy. Trying to rise above that and find our way in life can be really tough, especially where family and friends feel, for whatever reason, they cannot be supportive.#

Closets have to be among the loneliest places on the planet and those trapped in them need to know that they are not alone and there is nothing wrong or sinful about a sexual orientation that does not conform to so-called social, moral or religious conventions. We are born as we are. Asked if I would have chosen not to be gay, I would probably answer ‘yes' - not because I am ashamed of my sexuality, but because life would have been so much less complicated; dealing with our own feelings can be hard enough (for anyone) but having to deal with other people’s prejudices and misperceptions can prove a waking nightmare.

Poetry, of course, attempts to reach out to everyone; as the poet climbs his or her own learning curve so the reader is invited to follow their train of thought, not in any didactic sense but with a view to inviting an understanding of viewpoints with which they many not be familiar and/ or have been raised to believe are ‘unnatural.’ As I point out on the blogs so often, we are each and every one of us, part of a common humanity; our differences do not make us different, only human. Of course, there is good and bad in most people and both deserve to be treated accordingly, but no one deserves to be judged according to such common stereotypes as many people are drawn to like magnets. I was raised a Christian, but the suggestion in the Holy Bible - essentially common to any religious way of thinking – how we should be aware that none of us are perfect, and before we judge and condemn others may do well do to take a long, honest look at our inner selves; giving way to temptation, may well deserve punishment, but being able to resist temptation doesn’t necessarily make us a ‘better’ person, just stronger.  

Tragically, many people continue to suffer in silence, afraid of seeking support for fear of being judged, but I would recommend self-help groups to anyone; the boost to self-esteem can be amazing, just for being with people who share a common problem, and feel able to share those feelings, freely and without embarrassment, on a common learning curve that makes the problem so much easier to live with if not overcome completely. Yes, you’ will have heard it all before, and I’m not anything new, so why are there still so many closets in the world and so many people feeling trapped in them, for whatever reason?  Religion has no more a monopoly on a sense of spirituality than some LGBT folks have a monopoly on closets. Choice lies, not in what kind of closet we feel closing in on us, but how we find a way out of it. Never easy, but always worth the effort…

Many thanks for dropping by,

Take care, and continue to nurture a positive-thinking mindset, any slings and arrows of everyday life notwithstanding,

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: this post appears on both poetry blogs today. Oh, and to those readers who have dipped into my fiction blog and asked for more, I can only apologise for having no further fiction projects in mind. Glad you found something to enjoy there.] RNT

Hi folks, from London UK

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

Hi, Everyone,

A reader has emailed to say how much he has enjoyed reading poems in the archives and wants to know why I don't write more poems "... to which LGBT people, especially gay men, can directly relate." The short answer is that I simply ran out of ideas., although I do add the occasional new poem to the blog whenever inspiration strikes. Moreover, as feedback suggests to my delight, more LGBT readers are discovering that they can also relate to many  poems on my general blog, written as they are for an all-inclusive mindset.

A new reader also asks how I reconcile the sense of spirituality to which I often refer in my poems with my not subscribing to any of the world religions. I have answered this question here before, so hope any regular readers will bear with my repeating myself.

Over the years, I have had conversations with many LGBT people who feel stigmatised by their sexuality; often they feel the need to hide their true sexual identity, not least because their religion forbids it. This is why I do not subscribe to any religion as such, but have felt a growing empathy with Pantheism in later years. Even as a child, I found it hard to relate to a personified God while, at the same time, I could not deny an innate sense of spirituality. As the years passed, I realised that being gay is not a choice but an aspect o the human condition to which most world religions refuse to acknowledge as being more natural than blasphemous. I also began to understand that my sense of spirituality came from my love for the natural world.  How could any God feel any antipathy towards the likes of me for that? I refused to believe that my sexuality was a sin and, as a work  colleague once put it, would go to Hell. By the time I finally came out to the world as a gay man, I had also discovered Pantheism; pantheists believed that God IS nature rather than simply its creator.

Now, I have every respect for any person's religious beliefs, although I confess I find religious agendas - of dogma, as they prefer to call it - fair bursting to the seams with a bigotry and hypocrisy that has never struck me as likely in any God. Whatever, each to their own, fair enough. As my poems often ask, whatever happened to agreeing to differ...?

No one should be made to feel guilty about their sexuality nor does (any) religion have a monopoly on spirituality. There will be many readers who disagree, are even offended by what I say, but no offence is intended; it is simply my view of the world as I have experienced it. In the course of my 75+ years, I have felt closer to nature, and closer to s sense of spirituality I cannot relate to religion, only nature; if  an affinity with Pantheism makes me a 'sinner' so be it.

A sense of spirituality is an important element in the human condition, and it has always been of great concern to me that a significant number of LGBT folks are made to feel they have no right to it on account of their sexuality. I refuse to believe that any God would hold a person's sexuality against him or her, whatever any Holy Books might have to say on the subject. Years ago, when I was well enough to participate in Gay Pride marches, it was a delight to be amongst others who felt able to look the world in the eye for their sexual inclinations rather than feel they should hang their heads in shame, although it saddened me - and still does - that some people had been rejected by family and friends es on religious rather than, or as well as, any 'moral' grounds. 

Whatever, the important thing is to be true to ourselves. Some families and friends get that, and the love they feel for a anyone is not diminished by their relating to the LGBT community; for others, religion takes preference over love, and they feel obliged to reject us. Sexuality is not a choice, but part  of who we are, but we are all persons of many parts; it s the whole that counts. Perhaps, one day, more of our religious "betters" may grasp that, and cease to practice the kind of bigotry they see fit to  impose on their congregations... although I have to say, I doubt it.

I once let slip to a friend of a friend, who happened to be a clergyman. that I am gay. Embarrassed, I apologised,. He laughed. "No need to apologise. Yours sexuality is between you and God. If he doesn't have a problem with it, why should I?  And if He does,? Well, that's for Him to deal with, not a mere clergyman. Now, that, is what I call agreeing to differ...

Take care, folks, keep well and many thanks for dropping by,

Back soon(ish),

Hugs,

Roger x 

The Whisperers or L-OV-E, open all Hours

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

I had planned to post this poem here on Monday but my to-do list is already barely manageable , so... here it is. A reader (who appears to feel the need to emphasise that she is "not gay" has asked for a poem to help herself and family death with the death of a close friend, suggesting " .. . a celebration of the life we shared rather than homing in on loss and grief..."

At the risk of being boringly repetitive, love comes in all shapes and forms, always a welcome if not essential support to any mind-body-spirit found wanting...at any time, for any reason.

THE WHISPERERS or LOVE, OPEN ALL HOURS

Think not that I have gone,
but only this of me,
that once there was a man
unable to (quite)
enter into access any real sense
of belonging
other than by way of a feeling
for love in all its multifarious shapes
shapes and forms 

Thanks to love, I (finally)
began to rise above
the world’s prejudices and hate,
embrace my sexuality,
commit to it, not least in poetry
inspired and nurtured
by that same Earth Mother
that gives birth to us, whom we leave
but to return in time 

Much like autumn’s kisses,
I’ll rise above any tears,
revisit shared memories sure
to feed love’s seasons,
in all weathers, good and bad,
carrying such seeds
as any Here-and-Now may sow
if only to survive in sickness and health,
for better, for worse 

Though any mind-body-spirit
may miss the realities
of love, its other (existential) self
lives on such memories
as nurture it still, selecting those
homing in on that peace
and kindness sworn to help save
any human heart in left pain, as and when,
whatever it takes 

Our joys, as leaves in a breeze
asking we but look out
for them, hear what they see
in us as they fly by
on wings possibly invoking envy
of a human spirit blessed
with potential for getting the better
of mortality, courtesy of all personal space
and shared history 

While a sorry world continues
to yearn (as it surely will)
for an all-inclusive mindset, I fly
where Doves of Peace 
keep its promises, death shows us
its kinder side and love,
it watches over us, keeps us safe,
who have yet to rework its finer arts on winds
set fair for life

Think not that I have gone, 
for there’s a you-me-us comprising
a mind-body-spirit
wherein any lonely, wintry days
needs must give way
to sunnier climes, if only for the sake
of a love like ours,
free, now, to be of good heart for such heavens
as are open all hours

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

[Note: this post-poem also appears on my general poetry blog today.] RNT