Seeing is Believing, True or False?

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

Years ago, after school, two friends (we’ll call them A and B) were caught kissing behind the bicycle sheds at the back of our school playground by a teacher working late. On being asked for an explanation, one friend said, “We love each other, sir.” 

After a long, ominous silence, the teacher asked “Do your parents know?” The culprits shook their heads. 

“Are you going to rat on us, sir?” Boy A asked, swallowing hard. 

“Somethings need to come from the horse’s mouth,” was all the teacher said, albeit sternly, before dismissing them. 

The two friends thought they had got off lightly, but no such luck it, not least because society was such that it would be years before either felt able to come out of the closet and tell the world they are gay, by which time they hadn’t even kept in touch. 

The following weekend, A spotted B in the local park with another boy. A’s emotions, at fever pitch since the incident in the bike shed, erupted and he let rip with a torrent of abuse; it was only later that he realised it has been aimed at himself. 

Gay or straight, we all do and say things we regret. Boy A was jealous, of course, but the incident in the bicycle sheds only days earlier had scared him more than he cared to admit. It was not a good time then to be gay, and issues on the home front made it impossible to follow the teacher’s good advice and tell the family that, at 14 years-old, he had already discovered his true sexuality.

It was a gay friend who told this story about himself, to me and several straight friends some time ago. All of us admitted we recognised ourselves in it, having suffered mixed emotions in similar situations, not least that love-hate peculiar to jealousy.

 Gay or straight, whoever and wherever, what are any of us but human when all’s said and done?

‘Love sees sharply, hatred sees even more sharp, but Jealousy sees the sharpest for it is love and hate at the same time.’  -  Arab Proverb

SEEING IS BELIEVING, TRUE OR FALSE? 

I am, to any life force,
its own worst enemy, that light mist
descending on a wintry
season of the heart mistaken for spring,
taken in its stride by mine host,
a vision of summer haunting the heart
that’s sure to thrive on its heat
if only for letting the power of illusion
fire passions of self-deceit

Like a rose, its thorns
forgiven for the beauty of its having
been nurtured by the love
of Earth Mother, with no small input
from yours truly, anticipating
showcase summers, a rose garden
of our own making,
pledging our love, oblivious to any threat
by storm clouds gathering

One evening, gone jogging,
I chose to take a longer route than usual
for no reason but a whim
to chase pigeons into a sunset, no matter
it put me to such shame
as would be my undoing in showing me
someone picking a rose
and giving it to you with a kiss that drove me
where no sane person goes 

No lovers but old friends had I chanced upon;
jealousy, my hurt-rage-loss-prison

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2020

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

 

 

No Token Trophy for Glass Houses

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

A former work colleague, unaware at the time that I am gay, once boasted that he had gay friends, so no one could accuse him of being homophobic.

Okay, so far, so good…

He went on to tell me that, 'To be honest, gay sex disgusts me, but ‘you have to cover your back these days, don’t you, what with all this equality and diversity rubbish?’  It was as if his gay ‘friends’ were notches on his belt meant to show everyone he was no homophobe. His obvious distaste for and discomfort with the whole gay ethos made me see red. When I mentioned that I am gay, he beamed, seemed to think I was making his point (which was what, I am still not sure) and said, ‘See, I am talking to you as an equal aren’t I?’

This conversation took place in 2008, the year I retired. Maybe I am being over-sensitive, but it still leaves a bad taste in my mouth whenever I think about it.

In the minds of bigots worldwide, gay people remain fuel for nasty gossip, but as my mother used to say, all the while those who have nothing better to do but gossip (or worse) about us, they are at least leaving other vulnerable people alone. 

NO TOKEN TROPHY FOR GLASS HOUSES 

It seems like only yesterday we’d play

at hide-and-seek as butterflies looked on;

happy days, gay lovers feeling our way

into red-and-golden hours of autumn

By Christmas, gossips had left us for dead

(memory’s embrace enough to surf the swell)

nor winter’s cold, but lies covertly spread

conspired against us while wishing us well

Old prejudices, they (still) threaten us,

cast their nets as at moths and butterflies;

collectors, like minds, and the curious,

sure to excuse the means, relish the prize

Though the world’s hypocrites, they abuse us,

we’ll fly free, no token trophy for glass houses

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2014

Getting the Better of Bad Attitude

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

A neighbour once spotted my poetry readings on You Tube and  told me I should be ashamed of myself for comments along the lines that homosexuality is not a matter of choice but the sexuality with which we are born and should not be considered unnatural. He takes the view that homosexuality is 'as unnatural as it gets.' Oh, well, it's true what they say. You can please some of the people some of the time, but you can't please all the people all the time. [Do I care?]

Until 1967, gay relationships were illegal here in the UK. We should not forget that in some parts of the world they still are, even here in the so-called ‘liberal’ West. Gay people whose family origins are rooted in a culture intrinsically hostile to same sex relationships have as tough a time now as many of us did years ago. It all depends whether or not we are growing up in a gay-friendly environment. Those of us who are comfortable with being openly gay should not rush to judge those who feel obliged – for whatever reason – to stay in the damn closet.

Someone contacted me after reading this poem in my collection borrowed from a public library to ask, ‘How can being gay possibly have anything to do with our spiritual identity and well-being as God intended?’ Well, if he (or she) reads either of my poetry blogs or any of my other collection it should be clear that we don’t share the same concept of God. I take a sense of spirituality from nature, not religion. Why? Well, as regular know only too well, it is because nature doesn’t discriminate between this sense of identity or that. The reader only gave a screen name, and my email bounced back when I tried to reply. (Could I have touched a nerve, I ask myself?)

True, sexual identity is only a part of a whole, but it is integral to who we are and how we live our lives; if we need a strategy for identity at all, it is (surely?) taking pride in that and finding the self-confidence to carry on regardless.

Being gay is no crime; what is criminal and inexcusable is using hate as a weapon to justify violence against others; it has to be among the very worst of human failings, invariably a cowardly expression of frustrations and shortcomings that do not bear close self-scrutiny by the perpetrators for fear of their being made to confront them. 

Gay bashing is not the only form of hate crime, of course, and no civilized society- or community - should tolerate it in any shape or form.

GETTING THE BETTER OF BAD ATTITUDE

Once, being gay was a crime,

g-a-y not invented for sexual identity,

dictionary meaning 'strikingly pretty’

while ‘homosexual’ the more polite term

in village, town, and city

Invariably, we would hear

queer, pouf, homo, fag or even shirt-lifter

hurled as a term of (everyday) abuse

at anyone even suspected of harbouring

intimate thoughts and desires

towards a same sex lover (real or fantasy)

daring (heaven forbid) to light fires

in the hearts of those others

who, too, longed to dive under covers

and be true (if well out of sight)

to a secret self dying to tell all and burst

into orgasm, forced instead to follow

convention, be seen to live 

a ‘normal’ life (whatever that might be) 

according to criteria laid down 

by a society verging on hysteria for its inability 

to see woods for trees 

or its so-called betters for their hypocrisies 

but, rather, preferring to take 

the moral high, cite this or that religion-speak,

cross the street rather than chance 

looking a suspect homosexual in the eye, 

acknowledge his or her right 

to draw breath in a world forever

heard protesting that a common humanity 

actually exists

Alas, bigotry persists, old prejudices

as likely to win the day as new laws meant

to embrace, reaffirm, and reinforce

a basic Human Right to live and let live,

gay or straight

Time passes, and bad attitudes (hopefully);

no room (ever) for complacency

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2016

[Note: This poem has been slightly revised (2013) and the title revised (2016) from an earlier version as it appears as 'A Strategy for Identity' in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.] 

Children of No Lesser God

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

[Update: March 25 2018]: A young gay man recently emailed me to ask how he can live with himself for being gay when his religion also means everything to him?  Well, i am not a religious person myself but I am no fool, either, and only a fool would honestly believe that God is a homophobe. Whatever a person's religion, its Holy Books preach peace and love, not bigotry. I have also had emails telling me I am naive to think this way, but we must agree to differ. To any young man or woman who knows, at heart, they are gay. I say don't let your religion prevent you from living your life as you want.need to live it. God is not your enemy, no matter how hard religious dogma may try to persuade you otherwise. I only know this young man as 'Michael' and do not have an email address for him as he made contact via the Comments box but please feel free to get in touch again should you feel the need. As regular readers well know, I don't post comments, but always read them and will always reply if you include an e-address; mine, as the blog heading is rogertab@aol.com.]

Meanwhile...

Some time ago, a gay friend and I were chased by three young homophobic thugs on our way home after a pleasant evening out. We escaped unhurt but I could so easily be telling a very different tale.

I have met many gay men who have been scarred for life (physically and/ or emotionally) by homophobic attacks. It is worse than being mugged, although the results can be as bad. The reason I say this (having been the victim of both) is because a homophobic attack is so much more personal. A mugger is after what we have by way of cash, etc. but a homophobe actively hates his (or her) perception of who we ARE.

Although we cannot always avoid the various slings and arrows of the world’s homophobes, we dare not let these pathetic specimens of humankind get the upper hand… nor will we, though they be found in all corners of all societies.

Those readers who email from time to time to ask why I am living in a time warp would do well to remember that in some societies being gay is still punishable by imprisonment, even death.

As for the free(er)West, a person's freedom to be openly gay invariably depends on whether or not not he or she happens to be living in a gay-friendly home/school/work environment. This blog tries to encourage all gay men and women, boys and girls, to feel GOOD about themselves.              

"For why is all around us here
As if some lesser god had made the world,
But had not force to shape it as he would?"
 
Alfred Lord Tennyson [Idylls of the King: The Passing of Arthur]

CHILDREN OF NO LESSER GOD

It was the hour of midnight cats;
out of the shadows they came,
waving bottles and baseball bats,
homophobes by any other name

We ran. No sanctuary in the park.
Frantic calls on mobile phones,
aware of the chilling dark poised
to rake over our flesh and bones

They caught us, brought us down
on wet grass spewing up a din;
bats, boots, cheers and flick knives
raking a terrible pain over the skin

Help arrived so the thugs ran away,
their hoots of laughter in the wind
a drumming in the ears come to play
another of life’s battles to its end

The homophobe fights a greater fear
than attacks gay people world over,
long hidden scars as sure to reappear
as a vulnerability gone undercover

Poor fools, attacking human sexuality
for fear of relating to its humanity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2013

[Note: This poem has been slightly revised (2013) from an earlier version as it appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]

To Love, the Victory

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

[Update, 13/5/18: So-called Islamic State have said it is responsible for the latest terror attack on ordinary people going about their own everyday lives, this time in Paris. France, along with the whole civilised world remains defiant against these people. Human nature is such that, to the end of time,  the power of love and respect for its finer intentions will always triumph over hate, hate crime and a malicious stereotyping that I dare say will always be with us just as its perpetrators will always fail to acknowledge that they are, in reality, but wasters and losers.] RNT

Now, a number of readers have asked me to repeat the link to my (very) informal poetry reading on the 4^th plinth in London’s Trafalgar Square back in July 2009; it was my contribution to Antony Gormley’s One & Other ‘living sculpture’ project that ran 24/7 for 100 days during which time 2,400 ordinary people were invited to do their ‘own thing’ for an hour. I included some poems on a gay theme among others. [The entire web-stream is now archived in the British Library.]

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T  [For now, at least, this link needs the latest Adobe Flash Player  and works best in Firefox; the archives website cannot run Flash but changes scheduled for later this year may well mean the link will open without it. Ignore any error message and give it a minute or so to start up. The video lasts an hour. ] RT 3/18

Meanwhile…

Photo: taken from the Internet

Let blinkered homophobes say what they will, the love two gay or transgender people share runs as true and stands every chance of lasting as long as that shared by any heterosexual couple. Nor is it likely to be frowned upon by any God so those who believe God is Love need have no fear that their sexuality in any way compromises their religion. As for those socio-cultural-religious bigots who may well tell you otherwise, plainly their capacity for love (other than for themselves) is sadly lacking. Even, so, human nature's capacity for love is - and always has been - far  stronger than any rogue capacity for hate as we continue live in hope of a better, kinder world.

This poem has not appeared on the blog since 2010 and is a favourite of mine.

TO LOVE, THE VICTORY

I tried to kill my love (it would not die),

banish emotions that refused to go;

Some said you were the guilty one (not I)

those enemies of love who cannot know

It takes two to begin a love affair

and two, again, to bring the shutters down

yet only one to bring true love to bear

on a heart growing dark and all but done

I begged another chance to defy them

who always said our love could never be;

dare I say it’s the singer, not the hymn

shall raise us to rousing tunes of glory?

Still, some gossip and spread tales about us

but we (though gay) in love, victorious

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005

[Note: This poem has been slightly revised from the original as it appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005; 2^nd (revised) e-edition in preparation.]

  

All Patched Up and Ready

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

Years ago, I was ‘queer bashed’ more than once. Fortunately, homophobic attacks are less common these days. However, when I posted my poem Ode To A Homophobe on this blog some time ago, several readers emailed me who genuinely believe homophobia is a thing of the past.  

Oh, but I wish!!!

Only a few years ago it was reported on TV that a gay man was stabbed to death and his partner injured in the London area during an unprovoked homophobic attack in their own home.

Since then there have been several high profile homophobic attacks here in the UK, usually on gay men, but I suspect many more go unreported and almost certainly include women especially among ethnic minority communities whose the culture of origin is intrinsically homophobic. Imagine, for example, how tough it must be for a gay Muslim, and I am assured by those I have met that there are plenty.

We must not be scared back into the closet by these thugs (or be afraid to come out of it either) but do our best to set an example and defy such ignorance and bigotry. Oh, and as far as I am concerned, they are no better than thugs, these holier-than-thou types who prefer to use gay people for a punch bag with socio-cultural-religious rhetoric rather than physical force. 

Meanwhile…be safe and - enjoy!

ALL PATCHED UP AND READY

A leg brushed mine

and the pulse of his sexuality

passed into me,

tore through my whole body

like an express train

A hand brushed mine

and the heat of his sexuality

passed into me,

embracing my whole body

like summer sunshine

A cheek brushed mine

and silk threads of sensuality

passed into me,

patching up my whole body

where holes were

A mouth brushed mine

and the joy of his sexuality

passed into me,

wishing my whole body

a safe passage

Naked flesh against mine,

the demands of our sexuality

passing into us,

joining our whole bodies

making us complete

Copyright R. N. Taber 2008

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

Storm Lantern

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

Now, for years after I came out as an openly gay man, I hated those who had locked me in that horrible closet throughout my youth and young manhood. Oh, I’d broken free often enough but I’d always scurry back for fear of being caught enjoying my life, being myself.

Break free, did I say? Huh!

When I finally made a break for freedom and stayed free, I was so haunted by that damn closet that, , try as I might< i could never quite rid my mind of all that torment and anger. But the torment was over, apart from the occasional homophobic ignoramus trying to revive it, and I could deal with that. [Didn’t I have years of practise?] So why was I still so angry it was chewing me up?

Yes, I was (and still am) angry for people all over the world still having to endure the same torments for their sexuality as had been inflicted on me. But it was more than that, much more; it was an inner rage that was turning in on me and threatening to destroy me...until it dawned on me that the greater part of how I felt wasn’t anger at all, but hate.

Oh, the anger is still there, but I’ve managed to lock the hate in its own dark closet and throw away the key. You don’t have to be a religious person (and regular readers know I’m not) to discover forgiveness.

This poem is a kenning.

STORM LANTERN

I am the child that cried
in the night but no one came
to see why,
thinking it was right I should
get used to living
with this bogeyman, that ghost,
and not be afraid
of monsters in the playground
I dreaded the most

I am the teen that cried,
after playing truant from school
then lied about
gay places visited, people seen,
when all I wanted
was for someone to listen to me,
hear why I don’t always do
as I should, know I’m not all
they would have me be

I am the man that cried
in the night until someone came
to ask why,
listened to what I had to say,
drove my ghosts away,
demythologized the Bogeyman
under my bed,
last words at the break of day
that being gay is OK

World, bully terrorising its victim
till I, Forgiveness, chose freedom

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2016

[Note: This poem is a slightly but significantly revised (2016) version of that which appears in 1st eds. of On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010; revised ed. in e-format in preparation].