Double Take, Second Time Around

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

It is possible to be in denial of love, probably because we have an ideal in mind to which nothing and no one can ever (quite) live up.

It can take a while sometimes to understand that we don’t have to compromise on the ideal, just stop closing mind, body, and spirit to the possibility of loving someone and being loved in return…and trust love, affection, friendship ... whatever ... itself to do the rest.

You'll never know unless you try... and where any attraction is mutual, it's worth every heartbeat to explore any potential. 

DOUBLE TAKE, SECOND TIME AROUND

He only wanted my body,

nothing else from me, no half share

in dreams and aspiration,

didn’t care a jot for my opinions

about politics and religion

messing us all about while pretending

to toe some party line

towards some supposed ‘greater good’

sure to be haunting us all

He only wanted my body

and since the attraction was mutual

I was okay with that,

and it made a pleasant change to skip

dull small talk, exchanges

of autobiographical anecdotes if only

to set the scene,

but strip off unselfconsciously, enjoy sex

for its own sake, no strings

I only wanted  his body,

weary of guys with domestic agendas

like wanting to settle down

and play out a happy-ever-after fantasy

in an affordable house

with adorable children courtesy of laws

permitting gay couples

to marry, adopt, even live ordinary lives

among ordinary people

I only wanted his body,

not in the least attracted to some nebulous

social stratosphere

dominated by a heterosexual majority

that sees gay couples

as a tolerably minority, here to stay

only as reiterating

some politically correct code of ethics

half the world won’t endorse

We only wanted sex,

no ulterior motive such as falling in love,

wanting the spend

the rest of our lives together, give sceptics

a run for their money,

share bad times as well as good, survive

not only to tell the tale,

but go one better, be stronger than ever

just for staying together

We only wanted sex,

from the first moment we saw each other

across a crowded bar,

going back to his place later, certain only

about being intimate,

no letting mind and spirit into the equation

but for being feisty,

living the moment as if it might well be

we’d never see its like again

That was the idea, until we hit

on a plan B in the first, cold, light of dawn,

wrapped around each other,

loath to part company despite a tsunami

of doubts and reservations

that (eventually) we saw off with a kiss

which lasted long enough

to help us understand about love on a roll

this, our second time around

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Closet Lives

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

Years ago, I had a fling with an Austrian guy called Günter. He was not openly gay in Germany, but enjoyed being so with me here in London. (I have lived in London 30+ years.)  We had a great time, seeing London - including a few gay bars, most of which have since closed down - and getting to know each other better.  The affair only lasted two weeks, and then he returned to Austria. We kept in touch for a while, but there was no Internet then and neither of us was good at writing letters. (Post-Internet generations are so lucky in as much as it is so easy to keep in touch with people by e-mail, even Instant Messaging.) 

I have often wondered if Günter ever took the plunge and came out to family and friends as he was very unhappy about not telling them. He asked me what I thought he should do, but I never give advice, only express an opinion. If he was unhappy, I said, he needed to do something about it. He agreed, but seemed doubtful so I often wonder…

It is a curious phenomenon, unhappiness; hard, near impossible to put aside, but can and needs to be superseded by a life focusing on sufficient satisfaction if not joy to keep it in the shade where it belongs. Like many trite sayings, there is much truth in ‘Where there’s a will, there’s a way.’ More often than not, the way is neither easy nor plain sailing, especially in the shorter term.

Whatever, it is always a good start, achieving peace of mind, in one sense if not another…and who knows what lies ahead?  Nor is it so different for gay people coming out of a dark, lonely, closet than for heterosexuals harbouring secrets they would prefer not to keep but fear the consequences of breaking their silence?  

Most if not all of us tell lies sometimes, but we are kidding ourselves to suggest it does no real harm. Oh, yes, we tell truths too.  The trouble is humankind tends to have different versions of each. Most lies - and just as many home truths - invariably hurt someone, somewhere. Better then to develop a greater affinity with truth, and be less judgemental even if it doesn't happen to coincide with our own version of it?

CLOSET LIVES 

Shadowy stalker,

haunting you day and night,

however hard you try

to put me out of your mind

with various distractions,

given that even the human spirit

(easy prey to convention)

sees me as a tough adversary,

never easily defeated

Whatever fine strategy

you may devise to put me down,

I come up with another,

and we lock horns, you trying

to beat me at my own game

while I play dirty, reminding you

of all you stand to lose

if you so choose to give the heart

its straining head

Yes, I play dirty, and well,

teasing inner selves with scenarios

that would have any victory 
of mine a petty, piecemeal affair 
compared any peace of mind

my silence offers, whose riptide 

ever closing in as you run

for cover, having known no better

than secrets and lies

Playing hide-and-seek in your space,

I am Conscience, its saving grace

Copyright R. N. Taber 2015

I and I, a Feeling for Sexuality

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

For the benefit of any new readers, I should perhaps explain that I also some upload historic as well as current blog posts to Google Plus. I regularly add and remove these so readers can access up to about 30 poems without having to trawl 1,000+ poems on my blogs. It seems to work well, and feedback has been very encouraging so I will continue:

https://plus.google.com/118347623673930289606/posts

Regarding my You Tube channel, it appears that some viewers have not realized they should keep the sound on to hear the poems I read over the later videos nor that the poem is also included in the description that accompanies each video. Hopefully, this information will add to your enjoyment as Graham and I have a lot of fun shooting the videos and writing the poems. We don’t have a state of the arts video camera, though, so don’t expect a BBC level production:

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

Today’s poem was written in 1976, the year my mother died, and a time when I was  in and out of the closet like a jack-in-the-box, and only ever open about my sexuality to certain people in certain places at certain times in my life.  

My mother was OK about my being gay, but felt it was best kept under wraps and my brother and father should be kept in ignorance, although I would be very surprised if they had not already guessed. Since I’d had an appalling relationship with my father since childhood and my brother (at the time, anyway) was openly homophobic, I sensed she was probably right. It would take a severe nervous breakdown three years later before I finally came ‘out’ to everyone in the early 1980s, and to stay.

Re-reading this poem, I think it gives a sense of my confused torment at the time. It is a harsh indictment on the twenty-first century that there are countries and pockets of democratic societies, too, where gay boys and girls, men and women, are experiencing much the same torment. We can but hope common sense and humanity will prevail and the whole world will, in time, become a more gay-friendly place.

I AND I, A FEELING FOR SEXUALITY

Don’t wax lyrical about loneliness
                                                says the Man
tell’em just what it can do,
                                       how it will
kill the eye, give the lie
to that so-smooth brow
                                 you’re
scrubbing at;

Don’t make out
                       it doesn’t pain you
to prepare for another day
                                      no different
from yesterday, unless
that face you’re
                        making
cracks!

Okay, run a comb through your hair
                                                    says the Man
and straighten your tie
                          just so...
Here’s your jacket,
maybe we’ll
                    make it?
Come, come...

No, no, don’t throw it
                          at the cat
or rip your throat
                         like that,
you’ll tear my shirt.
Now we’ll be
                          late
for work

Don’t swear at me
                           says the Man,
it’s not my fault
                       you can’t
stand the closet
any more. Now, get off
                           that floor.
Yes, now!

Oh, and blow your nose, you’re getting
on my nerves…

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2000

[From: Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]  

A Dream Come True

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

Some gay people acknowledge their sexuality only to themselves and become accustomed to a closet life, even convincing themselves they prefer it to all the daunting complications that  accompany getting real…until someone come along to make the damn closet a far less habitable place, and all the complications of an alternative reality far less daunting …

A DREAM COME TRUE or AN ALTERNATIVE REALITY

An end-of-tether night

out on the town, stuck in

the closet

You were sitting alone

with a beer, green eyes

everywhere, sunlight

in reddish hair like sparks

from a winter fire

that lit a flame in my heart

from the start

I wanted to speak

but did not dare in case

you sent me packing

with a flea in my ear - so

I hung around...

and tried to pretend

I was with a friend;

you glanced my way,

piercing my heart,

played with a button

on your shirt…

I glimpsed a tawny hair,

a twinkle in each eye

beckoning me near

We chatted awhile,

your erotic smile arousing

such heat in me

that you were a part of me

long before you finally

invited me back to yours

for a coffee…

A getting-it-right night

in with a chance, got out

of the closet

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002, c2011

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the tittle 'Burn-out' in my collection First Person Plural, Assembly Book, 2002.]

Dancing the Night Away

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

I remember a boyfriend’s parents once telling him years ago that I had bewitched him, and it wasn’t even Halloween! They said I had been sent by the Devil to tempt him into evil ways...! How can intelligent (?) people believe such rubbish?

We stayed friends long after we split up, but he was never reconciled with his family. Yet, he has lived very happily with the same partner for the best part of twenty years now and his partner’s family has no problem with their relationship.

Oh, but human nature can be a monster at times! It can take a while for us to find the strength of character and conviction to venture out and take it on.  Some of us (like me) take encouragement, guidance and fortitude in nature where other socio-cultural-religious so-called ‘role models’ fail us.

Whatever form love takes, any ‘temptation’ is but to share its beauty and spirituality with another person, and no one should be penalized let alone ostracized for giving in to that. Yet, that is exactly what (still) happens in various parts of the world. Some people not only never learn from the harsher lessons of history, but seem intent upon perpetuating them. We can but take them on and hope to educate them into a more enlightened sense of humanity.

This poem is a villanelle.

DANCING THE NIGHT AWAY

Shadows dancing on my lawn,

(open window to see better);

a misty-eyed moon looking on

Sense change about to happen,

(reshaping my life forever);

shadows dancing on my lawn

Silhouettes, men and women

(looking so right together);

a misty-eyed moon looking on

Putting aside threats unspoken

(reassured by Earth Mother);

shadows dancing on my lawn

Witness to ties as yet unbroken

(by culture, creed or colour);

a misty-eyed moon looking on

No sign of dancers moving on,

(nor can I resist any longer);

shadows dancing on the lawn,

a misty eyed moon looking on

Copyright R, N. Taber 2009

Born Again OR Mind-Body-Spirit, Second Time Around

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

Being in denial is the worst kind of self-torture if only because our alter-ego is well aware of what is happening and does not let up its torrent of accusation and recriminatory taunts; turning a deaf inner ear may win us a few battles, but we’ll not win the war and peace of mind doesn’t stand a chance ...

The human spirit is stronger than that; as life forces go, it has to be first among equals, and only a heartbeat away.

(Photo taken from the Internet)

BORN AGAIN or MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, SECOND TIME AROUND

You had an angel’s smile,

white shirt flapping like wings

in a breeze;

out of nowhere, you came,

coaxing this lonely Unbeliever

to his knees

You took me in your arms

kissed me, your lips fanning ashes

all but spent;

my long-smouldering body

burst into flames of mad desire

as was meant

A passion raging in the soul,

far more than sexual, rose like a ghost

set free...

into the kind of heaven

sure to offer unconditional

sanctuary

You named and shamed me

out of a self-denial keeping me
in its hell;

Oh, ecstasy, born again
in you, you in me, to love,
the victory

Copyright R. N. Taber 1973; 2012; 2015

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Kiss of Life' in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.

Ballad of the Straight Cafe

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

More often than not chance encounters don't turn out quite as we expect but can be good for an adrenaline rush all the same. It is also true to say that life is full of surprises, none more amazing at times than other people.

We might think we can read someone's body language like a book, and arrive at certain conclusions, forgetting they may well be able to read ours, too, and arrive at their own...

BALLAD OF THE STRAIGHT CAFE

A face glimpsed in a crowd
had haunted me all day
then fate sat us at the same table
in my favourite café

I fought to control the frantic
pounding of my heart,
shied away from his passing glances
as if dazzled by their light

I felt the sweat on my brow
replace unshed tears;
salty drips, a measure of body heat
and unspoken fears

It spread to my groin, that fire
raging through me;
I relished, lapped up the pain, martyr
to my sexuality

His lips parted and let me see
the pinkness of a tongue
tossing words, fuelling the furnace
my body had become

He asked me to pass the salt
and my hand shook;
our fingers brushed and he gave me
the queerest look

I could scarcely breathe, sounds
like stifled screams
of feisty ghosts, last seen tramping
on wet dreams

I blurted out my name, asked his
and a chill wind all but let
the furnace die, left me smouldering
among coals of regret

Yet, a hint of light in his dark eyes,
though the dimmest glow,
warned it was now or never, he and I,
our selves to know

[From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Getting it Right

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

Regular readers will know that I am getting on a bit now (born 1945) and having to deal with the slings and arrows f old age.

When I was a teenager and much younger man, gay relationships were illegal here in the UK (until 1967). By the time being gay was no longer a criminal offence, I felt as though I had been locked in a dark closet, afraid to come out except in known cruising areas where gay men and boys would meet up and usually have sex. I had been told so many lies about homosexuality; that it is a cardinal sin, a shameful condition, whatever...

Eventually, I became so claustrophobic in that damn closet, I came out and stayed out. Yet, I recall those awful years as vividly as if it were but yesterday.

I don’t think it does any harm to remind ourselves just how awful being in the closet can be. It also helps reassure those who are still there that we have all survived the same traumatic experience; traumatic, that is, to a greater or lesser degree depending on whether or not we have gay-friendly family and friends.

In latter years, more of us than ever before have reached within ourselves for the self-confidence and self-esteem that encourages a gay person to tell the world he or she is gay. I’m sure I speak for most if not all of us by confirming we are better and happier people for taking that first step. Sadly, it remains a step too far for some people and we still have a long way to go before all gay people can take their rightful place in all societies world-wide. Yet (corny as it may sound) there really is a life to be had outside the closet, light at the end of even the longest tunnel. We have but to follow it. The journey will be different for each and every one of us, tougher for some, easier for others. Yes, we have a choice as to whether we make the journey or not, but at heart we also know what that choice needs to be; it remains, however, a choice only we, as individuals, can make, and no one has the right to force our hand.

Life balance is about getting it right, and we can but follow our natural instincts, not someone else's who think they know us better than we know ourselves. We may not get it right in their eyes, but it's our life, and we only get one chance to sow and reap its harvest; we won't get it right all the time (and there are plenty who will say "I told you so.") but we can get it right most of the time if we put our minds to it. Yes, homophobia is alive and kicking in some countries, homes and communities around the world, but as a young gay Muslim put it to me only recently. "Better a closet lover than no lover at all, right?" Right.

This poem is a villanelle.

GETTING IT RIGHT

Love found me long ago,
told me I’m gay;
(I did not want to know.)

This heart, it ached so
at each new day;
love found me long ago

Within, but a candle’s glow
kept sexuality at bay;
(I did not want to know.)

Time, so quick, so slow,
nor words to say,
love found me long ago

Deaf, dumb, blind I’d go,
maybe outed one day?.
(I did not want to know.)

Now, for you, glad to show
the world I’m gay;
Love found me long ago;
(I did not want to know.)

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007