Dog Roses OR N-a-t-u-r-e, (All- Inclusive) Life forces)

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

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:

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/dog-roses-chapter-one_14.htm

  

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.]

Daydreamer

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

Today’s poem has appeared on the blog before and is a favourite of mine. I hope new readers will like it and regular readers enjoy becoming reacquainted.

Who can honestly say (gay or straight) they have never found themselves daydreaming about someone? It happens to me all the time, especially since  contracting prostate cancer in 2011 and consequently unable to enjoy sex after years of hormone therapy. There is far more to life than sex, though, so I(still) prefer to engage in positive thinking rather than lend my voice to the world's whingers.

If there is anyone more boring than a whinger, it has to be a troll; to those well-meaning readers who suggest I promote my poetry on social media, I can only say I left it in the first place because of trolls and have no intention of returning. Feel free, though, to give this e-address if you think anyone on Twitter or Facebook may be interested, and is not only there for a whinge or gossip:
https://rogertab.blogspot.com  (General)
https://aspectsofagaymanslifeinverse.blogspot.com/ (Gay-interest) 

https://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.com/2016/05/news-updates-fiction.html (Fiction)

DAYDREAMER

He sat at a table by the window

staring into space, eyes like dewdrops

on a bluebell among shadows

haunting the handsome face

like city kids playing among

spring flowers making a brave show

in window boxes

I lost myself in those eyes,

wandered territory unknown without fear,

guided by the sad sunshine of a smile

along trails I 'd never dare

for their twists and turns, nature

running wild, its call like the heartbeat

of a wilful child

We found each other and he took

my hand, gently pulled me to the ground;

our first kiss was like coming home

after long years away…

and he made love to me right there;

Oh, the beauty, the ecstasy, bitter-sweet

cruelty of despair!

Suddenly, he got up and went out in the rain;

I finished my drink and went home alone

Copyright R. N. Taber 2000; 2010

[Note: A slightly different version of this poem under the title 'Blue Eyes'  has appeared in several poetry publications , including my first major collection Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001.]

Continuum

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

I am so pleased that some straight as well as gay readers have taken the trouble to email me to say they have enjoyed my gay novel, Dog Roses, never published but serialized on my fiction blog.  (A love story, but don’t expect roses all the way.):

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk/2011/07/dog-roses-chapter-one_14.html

Thanks also to readers who have been in touch to say they have enjoyed my gay-interest novel Catching Up with Murder despite (or because of?) its frequent forays into shades of dark humour. [Yes, this one did get published.]

You have no idea how encouraged positive feedback makes me feel, especially now while I am learning to live with prostate cancer. By the way, the hormone therapy continues to do a good job of keeping the cancer at bay, but makes me very tired so I need to rest more often. I must also accept certain limitations even if it’s not in my character to do so...!

The novel is serialised on: 

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/catching-up-with-murder-chapter-1.html

Meanwhile...

I often dream about my late partner. Once, I woke up at dawn, sat down with a cup of tea (oh, but how English!) and wrote this poem.

CONTINUUM

Where bold trees kiss the sky,

we dared fly, you and I,

cage birds freed to sail sunsets,

wish on stars until dawn

when I wake to find you gone,

but the loving goes on

As flowers in spring sunlight

inspire a painter’s heart,

you inspire mine to sail sunsets,

wish on stars until dawn

finds me wishing all alone here

for the loving we’d share

In passing dreams of summer,

we’d always be together,

we kin to Apollo, sailing sunsets,

winging stars into dawn

till I wake to find you gone,

but the dreaming goes on

Against autumn’s rich tapestry,

we’d plan for eternity,

toss frail mortality into a sunset,

among stars, into dawn;

no hint of a body grown cold,

only kisses of red and gold

Among trees dressed in snow,

you pass and I follow,

quit this lonely body for sunsets

and stars until dawn…

when I wake, and you’re gone,

but the loving goes on

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

Pulp Fiction OR Flirting with Imagination

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

[Update: (Feb 4 2018]; Several readers have asked me ro reinstate 'Blasphemy' to the blog as they have been unable to access it via Google Play. I will start posting again in serial form later this week.]

News Update (June 21, 2016): My (slightly revised) gay-crime novel 'Blasphemy' (2006) is now available as an e-book on Google Play:

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Roger_N_Taber_Blasphemy?id=mNlsDAAAQBAJ&hl=en_GB

NB My novels (including gay-interest, crime and fantasy,  published and unpublished) will continue to appear in serial form on my fiction blog. I am grateful to those readers who have been in touch to say they have enjoyed my novels and why those as yet unpublished (Dog Roses, Mamelon, Predisposed to Murder and Like There's No Tomorrow deserve to be. The fact remains, though, that I was never able to find one and found myself concentrating more and more on my poetry.

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk/

I hope to announce any e-editions of my poetry collections and subsequent new collections (in e-format) as I upload them on both general and gay-interest poetry blogs; each collection will continue to include both general and gay-interest poem just as my fiction will embrace both general and gay-interest storylines.

Meanwhile,...

Now, if you enjoy writing in any genre and despair of having writer’s block, you are not alone. I, for one, know the feeling only too well. Ah, but believe me, there’s nothing like a spot of ‘live’ pulp fiction to stir the imagination ... 😉

PULP FICTION or FLIRTING WITH IMAGINATION

He got on at Leicester Square,

sat opposite me, heading for Edgware;

between dripping sardines

our eyes met. (Rain on the face

or beads of sweat?)

I chanced a friendly smile

and mouthed, “Hello.”

He flung me a dirty look - so

I returned to my book although my heart

yearned for his beauty,

let it comfort my despair. (Oh, to burn

my fingers on the sparklers

in his hair!) Patched jeans smouldering

like the heart cowering in my shirt,

I risked a second glance. His eyes bore

darkly into mine...

Hooked! Starkly, we swam

a glorious ocean...

Our lovemaking done by Camden Town,

he left the train

I never saw him again

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002

[From: First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002]

[Note: Camden Town is a district of North-West London, about 15 mins travel on the Northern Line from Leicester Square.]

Blasphemy-Sacrilege-Redemption (Three poems)

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

[Update Jan 1st 2018]: Some readers have been in touch to ask if I would reinstate Blasphemy as they have been unable to download the Google Play copy for various reasons. I will do this asap.] RT

These poems have their roots roots in a fiction trilogy I planned.  Among other things, I wanted to suggest, via related story lines, that any bottom line (judgemental) perspective is ultimately down to human nature, not dogma. It's a long story, but the US publishers of my novel Blasphemy let me down by the time I had written Sacrilege so I went ahead and published it under my own imprint. To be honest, this was a mistake. While I recovered costs, I only sold about 200 copies because it was only available in the UK. (I could not afford the services of an overseas distributor). Moreover, the fact that I could not afford a professional proofreader at the time resulted in glaring grammatical errors, corrected later in the revised version that appears in serial form on my fiction blog:

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/sacrilege-chapter-1.html

https://play.google.com/store/books/details/Roger_N_Taber_Blasphemy?id=mNlsDAAAQBAJ&hl=en

I shad hoped to complete Redemption eventually and serialise it on my fiction blog, especially as readers write in from time to time asking how the trilogy ends. Unfortunately, although I feel fine most of the time, hormone therapy for my prostate cancer often plays havoc with my concentration so Redemption remains on (indefinite) hold while I struggle to complete the final part (Book 2) of my fantasy novel, Mamelon. I am halfway into writing Redemption, however, so hopefully I WILL finish it one day.

Meanwhile...

Back to poetry (!) and I hope you will enjoy the trio of villanelles that I wrote in the course of planning the trilogy:

WHO SAYS, BLASPHEMY?

Where the blasphemy in any Belief
that takes its cue from humanity,
shining through like a spring leaf?

Why the pain, recriminations, grief
put down to a person’s sexuality?
Where the blasphemy in any Belief?

Earth Mother has given us our brief
for each season of our mortality,
shining through like a spring leaf

Let religious leaders make mischief,
undermining a common equality,
where the blasphemy in any Belief?

Another word pit against us is ‘if…’
confusing us, its very duplicity,
shining through like a spring leaf

While bigots use God’s handkerchief
to sneeze at our integrity…
where the blasphemy in any Belief
shining through like a spring leaf?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

WHO SAYS, SACRILEGE?

A sacrilege, I’ve heard people say
regarding something I read on a cloud
about God not minding if we’re gay

See and feel it in nature every day,
a native spirituality that makes us proud;
a sacrilege, I’ve heard people say

As we let acid rain erode our clay,
small matter to address a hostile crowd
about God not minding if we’re gay

For peace and love, gay people pray
who are as we are and shall say so aloud;
a sacrilege, I’ve heard people say

Dare religions take love’s holy way,
yet be blind to signs along the same road
about God not minding if we’re gay?

From dawn to dusk, come what may,
born to find a way in life, heads unbowed;
a sacrilege, I’ve heard people say,
about God not minding if we’re gay

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

THE  (three poems)BEAUTIFUL DREAM

My life, in part, I would redeem,
any promises broken, mistakes made,
nearer to live the Beautiful Dream

Stitched well enough at the seam,
for all its bright colours sure to fade,
my life, in part, I would redeem

I’d see life’s poetry shift its theme
from debts thoughtlessly left unpaid,
nearer to live the Beautiful Dream

But a jobbing actor in life’s scheme,
(some roles, a darker self has played)
my life, in part, I would redeem

See nature, our sexuality affirm,
world applauding the vows we made,
nearer to live the Beautiful Dream

Let it come, that moment supreme,
nor be fooled by misleading trails laid;
My life, in part, I'd gladly redeem,
nearer to live the Beautiful Dream

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

A Feeling for Fantasy OR Nature Onside

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

A whimsical poem with a serious message today, requested by Imogen for her partner Jayne. It appears that, like me, Jayne has always loved fantasy fiction.

From the age of about ten, I, too loved to explore the world of myth and legend and would head directly for that section in my local public library even before trying out the delights of children's fiction.

My penchant for fantasy has found its way into many of my poems, poorly disguised as metaphor. In some ways, it as much escapism from a harsh reality now as it was for me all those years ago.

Some readers might enjoy my 'Mamelon' fantasy novels serialised on my fiction blog; the blog includes gay and general fiction of which Mamelon, though, is the latter:

https://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.com/2016/05/news-updates-fiction.html

A FEELING FOR FANTASY or NATURE ONSIDE

Strolling by fields of barley, wheat and rye,
my love and I sought lasting rest and peace;
twin spirits hungry for sanctuary,
weary of a world always judging us

We reached woodlands alive with leafy song,
a sonata for lovers everywhere,
paused to ask a tree nymph for its blessing,
keen to turn our backs on urban despair

The nymph warned it was born of the country,
bound by the countryside’s own moral code,
had only heard tales of urbanity,
a Grim Reaper harvesting swathes of road

Such peace here! “For us, too, a gay couple?”
“Ah,” says nymph, “that depends on people.”

[From: A Feeling For The Quickness Of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005]

Time for a Reality Check?

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

Coming out to family and friends can be a traumatic experience even these days, worse when they don’t take the news too well. Give them time to get used to the idea, yeah? It can come as a shock to those who haven’t already guessed. Moreover, many people feel genuinely hurt that we haven’t confided in them sooner. Hurt can easily express itself in anger, an anger that many gay people are inclined to interpret as rejection. Sometimes, yes, they reject us for our sexuality and we have to try and win them round. In the early days, though, it may well be that they are angry with themselves for our not feeling we could trust them.

‘Win them over?’ I hear some of you protest. Well, yes. People who don’t grow up in a gay-friendly environment will often need time to put everything (usually bad) they have been told about gay men and women to one side and, hopefully, put love and friendship first. This may well put them at odds with their own family, friends, religion...whatever. So give them time to get their heads around it all, yeah?

Bear in mind it could just as easily be you wearing blinkers, yeah?

Many people are ok about homosexuality and same sex relationships these days, at least here in the West... but by no means everyone. As for gay people living in the southern hemisphere, their families and friends may well have been brainwashed by bigoted religious leaders or socio-cultural traditions...whatever, to think the worst of us. Love and friendship may well overcome prejudices that run deep...but not always. It is hardly surprising that so many gay people in Africa, India, the Middle East, China etc. remain closet all their lives. It is a tragedy that cannot be overstated.

The fact that many gay people and those who seek to be reconciled with transgender needs are denied the opportunity to live openly with their sexual identity has to be one of the modern world’s greater tragedies. So much for a progressive 21st century! We can but hope humanity will quicken its step and see to it that there is real progress world-wide in due course.

TIME FOR A REALITY CHECK?

I shed tears on my pillow most nights,
despairing of a homespun mentality
closing its eyes to how Human Rights
might extend to a person’s sexuality

A time came when I had to speak out,
tell the world not only that I am gay
but would not, for that, be put to rout
by cruel words ever chasing easy prey

See how cruelty borrows a human face
the easier to feed on an inhumanity
that respects neither person nor place
while binding its acolytes to apostasy

I felt so alone, nothing but dead ends
whatever conventional path I took,
no support from my family or friends,
life reading like a badly written book

I even took God (very) soundly to task
for providing no answers I sought;
then a voice in my head suggested I ask
what family and friends really thought

We hadn’t really talked anything through,
(I saw everyone as a potential enemy);
it now became obvious what I should do,
whatever people might think about me

Truth is stranger than fiction, people say,
and I had woven fictions around me;
True, some folks will despise anyone gay,
but blinkers off, the more clearly we see

Life rarely (if ever) resembles a fairy tale
or bedtime story (precursor to sleep)
but better drink from than fall into a well,
wake to promises fantasy can never keep

Copyright R N Taber 2010 (Rev. 2018)

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Caught Out Wearing Blinkers' in On the Battlefields Of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Paperback Lives

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

Readers ask when Book Three of my intended gay-crime trilogy Blasphemy-Sacrilege-Redemption will be available. The answer is I am not sure. I have not been well and have had to put Redemption on a (very) slow burner. Hopefully, it will be finished one day.

The American publisher of Blasphemy  was  hoping it would give him better access to the UK market; when it didn't, he changed his mind about publishing the trilogy, making some very rude comments in the process. Thanks for asking, though, and it gives me an excuse to post this poem.

While it’s true to say my foray into fiction hasn’t been a roaring success, I have received some lovely letters and emails from readers so that makes it well worth all the hard work. Nor have I lost out financially even if it hasn’t made me rich. Moreover, readership of my fiction blog continues to rise so that is also very encouraging, especially as I am primarily a poet.

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk

Some people ask why I bother writing poetry or fiction at all unless it’s going to make me rich and famous. Well, I write both because I enjoy it,not least because all fiction has its roots in real life,and I get to have great fun engaging with my characters. Besides, for me, writing is a necessary therapy in my daily fight against depression; readers are always a nice bonus. In any case, I always knew that finding a publisher when I am writing gay-interest as well as general fiction (and poetry) would not be easy.

Find more info about my fiction at:

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk/2016/05/news-updates-fiction.html

Any creative activity - including sport - can be a more effective weapon against depression or a troubled mind than antidepressants alone; the arts, gardening, cooking, whatever gives a person pleasure and a sense of achievement. For me, it just happens to be writing, with a special interest in poetry that I inherited from my mother.

Oh, and never measure success by some else's measure of failure.

PAPERBACK LIVES

Walking in the park…
saw you lying on the grass
eyes closed, face turned
to the sun. I had never seen
such beauty. No, not
in anyone. I sat down nearby,
trying hard not to look,
pretending to read a book
upside down, peering
over its worn, torn cover
at my dream lover

Later, we chatted…
my heart skipping beats
like a lamb for the joys
of spring in glorious sunshine
reflected in your smile…
grateful just for living;
too soon, we parted,
your hand in mine so firm
and strong, carrying me
halfway to heaven on wings
of a favourite pop song

I tumbled to earth
as blue as my novel’s
paperback cover,
dreaming a happy ending
for each other, unable
to resist one backward glance,
(an, oh, so wistful look);
Ah, but neither could you
who ran back too,
making real the best chapters
in my paperback novel

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002, rev. 2010

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