Opening Closed Doors

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

While I often write in the first person, it is neither necessarily autobiographical nor simply to invest a poem with a sense of directness, but also to draw the reader into a ‘felt’ experience; one that I may not have shared at first-hand, but to which, in one way or another, I can relate. I guess the jury is still out on whether or not my approach works for them.

Recently, I received an email from a Catholic man who was finally persuaded to be openly gay during a holiday in Rome. He writes, ‘…for the first time in my life, I met someone who doesn’t see being gay and Catholic as a contradiction.’ He adds, ‘Nor does my friend think this way for his own convenience, but genuinely believes - as I do now - that whoever we are, and however we choose to imagine God, no concept of God can truly exist in a discriminatory context against anyone or the very principles of religion, love and peace, start to fall apart at the seams…’

I could not agree more, and although I do not subscribe to any religion myself, I applaud any gay (or straight) person who arrives at an understanding - however long it takes - that a sense of spirituality and an LGBT lifestyle are NOT mutually exclusive, except perhaps in the hearts and minds of those who choose to insist differently for their convenience.

Years ago, I knew a Christian man who confided that, while he agreed me ‘in principle’ about not discriminating against anyone because of their sexuality, he would never say so openly because he could not bring himself not to fear what he called 'God’s response'. He readily conceded that the New Testament effectively refutes interpretations of God in the Old Testament as a one quick to anger and effect reprisals. In its place, yes, we find a God of love and understanding. At the same time, my Christian friend was unwilling to put that belief to the test by openly disputing that God’s love cannot be assumed to extend to gay people. (It is all very well for an Archbishop of Canterbury, for example, to say he has no problem with gay people, even clerics, so long as they are not practising sex, but sex is a natural human urge. How can a religion preaching that God created all humanity deny its being invested likewise with a sexuality of one persuasion or another?

OPENING CLOSED DOORS 

It was at the heart of Rome,

a lonely heart caught

its first shy glimpse of a place 

to (finally) call home 

Oblivious to tourist crowds,

I confronted my self

in a fountain as honest with me

as passing clouds

A sad face, etched with pain, 

accused me of all sorts

for deceiving my friends, family,

and (worse) religion

Another face looked in at me

through this window

on a so-beleaguered conscience

addressing sexuality

I couldn’t prevent an intrusion

into this dialogue

with feelings I’d nursed for years

and kept well hidden

Not a word passed between us

as kindred spirits

engaged freely in open mind-speak, 

spreading like ripples

Coin faces applauding us pair,

encouraged me

to look up and smile if tremulously

at the person there…

He grinned, and said ‘Hello’

(I was lost for words)

and then walked away, glanced back

to see if I’d follow

Yes, follow I did, a free mind, 

body and spirit

for sensing St Peter’s natural affinity

with all humankind

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Winter Wonderland

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

.We should never underestimate the lasting power of true friendship. Yes, some so-called friends are shallow and easily offended, especially when they are nursing a hurt ego, while others may well need time to understand that a hurt ego needs nursing back to health, and not left to fester. (Yes, I know I have said much the same thing many times on my blogs, but, something worth saying is always worth repeating.)

It can come as a shock to some family members and friends when a gay man or woman flings open his or her dark closet and lets in the sunlight. Sunlight can be blinding sometimes.

Years ago, when I was just a boy at school, a teacher asked why I had fallen out with my best friend. I can’t remember over what we had argued, but I do recall it was something that seemed important at the time, but with hindsight was trivial. The teacher made a comment I have never forgotten, to the effect that a friendship worth having is always worth saving, whatever it takes.

Over the years, I have fallen out with lots of people for various reasons (as most if not all of us do) and I always ask myself this question, does it really matter?  Sometimes, the answer is an unequivocal ‘yes’ in which case I will always do my best to patch things up with that person.  Where the friendship is strong, I always succeed, and if it means swallowing a little pride, it has always been worth it.

I guess there is nothing like falling out with someone to make us realise whether or not we really want that person in our life. If we do, we just have to hope they feel the same way, and wherever the friendship runs true, an olive branch will (nearly) always do the trick. Someone, though, has to make the first move...

WINTER WONDERLAND

The first snow of winter falling,
as I walked in woods alone,
I heard a familiar voice calling,
asking where I had gone

I'd seen nothing of you for ages,
since we’d argued one day
over filling time’s blank pages
with graffiti for my being gay

Suddenly, I heard a robin making
the case for your defence, 
our friendship up for the saving,
no matter what odds against

You said I should have been open
about my being gay;
I'd raged, hurt by your reaction,
ignoring all you had to say  

Calmer as the snow began settling,
(my feet, minds of their own)
I faced demons I’d been wrestling,
resolved to put them down

At your front door, I rang the bell,
wondering if you’d answer;
when you did, a big hug said it all,
the best of friends forever

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2015

Icon

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

I can’t imagine why a homophobic cleric is reading the blog but someone called ‘Disgusted’ has been in touch about Tuesday’s poem. He says it is a sin to ‘glorify’ the human body and ‘outrageous’ to suggest any sense of spirituality can be derived from sex. He deplores my posting poems like Body Beautiful which only proves his point that the Internet is a ‘corrupt influence.’ Even so, he kindly adds that he enjoys many of my ‘more conventional' poems and recommends that I ‘get help' with my homosexuality.

How can I answer that but with another ‘corrupt’ (?!) poem...? He has every right to insist on his point of view, of course, but so do I...

How can anyone in their right mind insist a poem is a corrupt influence because it celebrates the human body?  A for sex, isn't  that is a celebration of the human body too?  Why shouldn't anyone - gay or straight -  find it an intensely spiritual as well as a delightfully physical experience?

ICON

An enigmatic air, rippling muscles,

head like a young god’s cast in bronze

full, sensual lips parted, not smiling,

but knowingly, as if aware of a breeze

in close-cropped curls whisking us 

to some fantasy isle, we its castaways,

partners in paradise, no one crowding us,

fat chance, rescue

Eyes as sharp as thorns on any rose,

while blushing skies lending him a hint 

of vulnerability, some pigeons nearby 

reciting poetry not meant for human ears;

two loud, tipsy youths try to muscle in

on our privacy, but reckoning without

divine intervention from a god on salary,

up for whatever

Mouth moves with the same alacrity

as hands and feet, divinity momentarily

suspended, as the youths demand entry;

harsh words and a strong arm soon sends

them packing, enigmatic air resumed,

classic Rodin immortalised on my phone

for quick reference whenever I find myself

in need of a pick-me-up

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2019

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