The Shared Heart

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

A married friend with children and also owns his own house once commented on my living alone and growing old in a council flat: ” A home without love in it isn’t a real home...” I see what he meant, but take issue with it all the same; just because a person may not have a partner, doesn’t mean their home is loveless.

As I have repeated many times on the blog, love comes in many shapes and forms, as do memories. The love people share can never be underestimated nor need the same people necessarily be married or even lovers; close friends may well bond in much the same way as lovers but for the absence of sex.

 Even in the absence of a close friend or relative, a person’s approach to the arts, gardening, politics or simply walking in the countryside, whether alone or in the company of others who share the same passions... the kind of love we have for and take from such life forces should not be underestimated either, especially by observers who only see  a person’s circumstances as they appear to the naked eye, invariably comparing them with their own, for better or worse. It is commonly said and universally true that appearances can be deceptive... in all manner of ways.

Yes, I am single, gay, live alone and have been estranged from my family for many years, but never let it be said that my home has no love in it or is any less of a home for my not having a lover to share it.

Love is more than a feeling; more, even, than those who feel it. Love is a ‘live passion, accessible to us al in whatever shapes and forms we choose - or which, perhaps, may well  have chosen us...?

THE SHARED HEART

The cares of our world,
they pass us by
whenever we make love,
you and I, on wings
of personal space left free
to soar higher, higher, even higher still
as any shared heart will

Assuming all the colours}
of a rainbow...
No harm done by taking them
for our own
in the heat of a passion
that makes poets of the mind-body-spirit
embracing a shared heart

Finally, having to surrender
to such thrills and spills
of reality to which, needs must,
humanity has been
called upon to answer, one way
or another, in the name of peace and quiet
as won by a shared heart

Despite the world’s inflicting
bruises and hurt,
ignoring even true lovers crying
“Enough, enough...!”
there is something about its capacity
for opening up, taking on and  reaching out
that inspires a shared heart

No finer, more enduring gift
can this life impart
than love enough to succour
the human heart,
whether it be people, places, pets...
memories to cherish, no matter whatever else
engages in the making of us

Let cynics consider immortality a pack of lies,
any shared heart will always argue otherwise 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021 

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

 

 

 

Breaking Cover OR Making Sense of Sensibility

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

This poem has appeared on he blob before but was removed and revised after receiving few visitors.

There are various ways of breaking cover. What nicer way for two gay people to come out to each other than with a kiss under the stars ... whatever their sex, sexuality or socio-cultural-religious background? As for letting everyone else know, it is rarely if ever easy, but worth every heartbeat as well as any tears along the way...

In some countries and home environments, gay people just have to seize the day and trust that a time will come that everyone recognises and accepts that the heart is a free country, and our difference don't make us different, only human.

Neither love nor life itself is rarely anywhere near as simple as we would wish, if only because we human beings insist on making everything so complicated with reference to various socio-cultural-religious dogma written in tablets of stone rather than engaging with contemporaneity, and trying to understand human nature, less rushing to judgement and / or  seeing its complexities as an excuse for hate crime, and worse ...

BREAKING COVER or MAKING SENSE OF SENSIBILITY

We lay on the ground,

barely touching, the only sound,

owls hooting;

your piano hands as if playing

the stars as we debate

women from Venus, men

from Mars

One toe brushing mine,

letting me share your body heat;

your eyes, winking like stars

as I clutch at your every word

like a man drowning;

you edge closer, thigh nestling

against mine

I'm stroking your shirt

while you're talking, unaware

of my being tossed about

on waves of desire, longing

to shut your mouth

with my lips, explore your body

implore your love

All the sounds of night

a serenade for lovers, caressing

each secret part of us

as I can but cling to every timbre

of your voice like straws

in a summer breeze, Cassiopeia

blinking back tears

Eventually, you wearied

of words, seemed to count stars

while I continued

to chase pipe dreams till the owls

broke cover, flew over us

as if at Earth Mother bidding,

a blessing of sorts

Enchanted, we shared

the owls' graceful flight across

silvery meadows

of night into a heart of darkness

that struck us both,

as lonelier than our lying there

needing each other

Slowly, tearfully, you turned to me,

kissed me, and we made love ...

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004, rev. 2011

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

Out of Africa OR P-r-e-j-u-d-i-c-e-s, Weapons of Mass Destruction

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

Feedback suggests that a number of new readers have been visiting both poetry blogs since the coronavirus, COVID -19, began to spread around the world, forcing many of us to stay at home and find new ways of distracting ourselves from the harsh realities evolving all around us. One reader writes: "Homosexuality is a sin, and trying to pretend otherwise simply because the cap happens to fit you, is nothing short of pathetic ..." Another reader writes, “The coronavirus is also a pandemic, right? Only there is nothing new about it.” Yours truly can but echo the latter comment, arguing - as regular readers are well aware - that our differences do not make us different, only human. RNT

Now, there will always be those opposed to change, especially where certain aspects of socio-cultural-religious dogma are concerned. Thankfully, though, common humanity (and science) invariably gets the better of them or civilisation as we know it (or think we do) would never have developed, albeit it still has a way to go ...

Today’s poem is not new to either blog, but one I have been asked to repeat (after some revision) by several gay-friendly as well as gay readers from various African (and other) countries; to those readers who email me from time to time, asking why I feel any need to support gay people in what someone recently referred to as 'this Golden Age of Equality', it perhaps offers an answer. Sadly, even well-meaning legislation (and religion) can only go so far in tempering that too-common element of human nature called bigotry. (I am gay, yes, but ask any woman or victim of racial abuse about this Golden age of Equality...!)

As I have said many times on my poetry blogs - in both poems and preambles - a minority of readers who get in touch from time to time in support of the vilification of LGBT people will just have to get used to the fact that we are all part of a common humanity

Evangelical pastors preaching homophobia and worse across the world - not least, much of Africa - have to be among the worst diehards. They have much to answer for, and bear no small responsibility for anti-gay legislation in many countries; such is their influence that a newspaper editor in Uganda once called for the deaths of known gay people.

David Kato (Uganda) and Eric Lembembe (Cameroon) - both gay activists - were murdered in January 2011 and July 2013 respectively; the number of gay-related killings across Africa is likely to be much higher.

But there is hope for us all yet. Evangelical leader and author Jen Hatmaker publicly changed her views on gay marriage in 2016. Both a Facebook entry calling for LGBT acceptance and comments about supporting same-sex marriage in an interview led Life Way Christian Stores to quit selling her books.

 “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”- Martin Luther King

“Hypocrisy and distortion are passing currents under the name of religion.” – Mahatma Gandhi]

"The death of dogma is the birth of morality." - Immanuel Kant

"From the beginning men used God to justify the unjustifiable." - Salman Rushdie, The Satanic Verses

“I imagine one of the reasons people cling to their hates so stubbornly is because they sense, once hate is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain.” - James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time

“Animals don't hate, and we're supposed to be better than them.” - Elvis Presley

OUT OF AFRICA or P-R-E-J-U-D-I-C-E, WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION 

'Kill the homosexuals!’

a local pastor cried;

and true to his words,

many gay men and women

have since died

"Homosexuals are sinners!’

the impassioned pastor yelled

at a congregation

that took up the cry, would

see us killed

"Homosexuality is an evil!"

the demon pastor screamed,

‘and no known cure

so kill it, and let its sinning

be redeemed

‘Man shall with woman lie!’

The pastor furiously exhorted

his flock to heed verses

from Leviticus, Christ’s coming

conveniently aborted

Someone in the congregation

dared point out that Christ said

we should love

and help our neighbours, not

wish them dead

‘Blasphemer!” the pastor cried,

near hysterical, refusing to relent

on a demonising

of homosexuality undermining

the New Testament

Africa, why are you (or is anyone)

even listening…?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; 2020

[Note: This poem first appears under the title ‘Out of Africa’ in the 7^th and (so far) last of my mixed general/ gay-interest collections, Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012; it was inspired by a Channel 4 ‘Despatches’ program, Africa, the Last Taboo, 2010, and is also repeated on my general poetry blog today.]

Engaging with Life Forces OR A Universal Passion

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

Although This post /poem appeared on my general poetry blog two years ago, it has taken until now for a reader to complain that it is 'unbelievable' that I can dare suggest being gay is a life force; rather (he says) "it is an abomination". Well, we must agree to differ, a point of view few trolls are able to enter into. I did not leave social media because I was badly affected by trolls, but because I find them so boring and literally a waste of space. He is not the first, either, to suggest that my poems, too, are an abomination because I rarely use full stops at the end of stanzas. Now, as regular readers will know, I see a poem as a living organism that takes its life from any engagement with its readers; rightly or wrongly, I find that full stops - more often than not - act as an impediment to the continuity of consciousness it attempts to encourage.

Love, peace of mind, inspiration, positive thinking, dialogue, taking people as we find them and rejecting prejudice and stereotypes …these are but some of the many life forces some of us are inclined to forget, even dismiss, and fail to call upon to sustain us during hard times. First among equals, of course, is love - in all its shapes and forms; a close second, though, is dialogue, something in which too few people, communities and, yes, families too are inclined to engage, preferring to rush to judgements fired by such speculation as incited by personal ego.

Now, if we really want to achieve something in which we passionately believe, we need to be prepared to stick at it every step of the way though the going be rough or smooth. Maybe if the British Government believed more passionately in Brexit, they may well have achieved it sooner instead of alienating all sides and homing in on a compromise; as it is, our relations

with the E U are looking shaky if not irreparably damaged.

Certainly, if the LGBT campaign for equality that began with Stonewall had weakened, even given up under pressure from the eternal Naysayers in society, we would not have come as far as we have, here in the West at least; less so in other parts of the world so while where there is cause for celebration, there remains no room for complacency, and never is. Every cause worth fighting for will always have its nemeses with which to contend and find ways of either defeating or winning over.

In an LGBT context, it is good to see how the latter continues to prevail where once it would have been unthinkable. Hopefully, we can sustain the momentum and fling open doors previously slammed shut in our faces. Hopefully, too, a time will come when those societies and communities (including religious groups) bent on persecuting us may yet concede that our differences do not make us different, only human, and embrace an all-inclusive agenda of love and peace.

We are a common humanity, deserving better than certain separatist forces driving us apart; politics, dogma and prejudice to name but a few. At least the Covid-19 coronavirus has encouraged some people to put these aside and pull together, see the light in so far as there is really nothing wrong in agreeing to differ, it is but another life force in which we may freely engage without being divisive or judgemental

This poem is a kenning (or a Who-Am-I? poem as a kenning is sometimes called.)

ENGAGING WITH LIFE FORCES

A worthy ally, and necessary

to keep faith

with body-mind-spirit where

its causes just,

and likely outcome much the better

for everyone

engaged in the greater purpose

of making a positive contribution

to raison d’être

Whomsoever engages with me

needs must

feel committed to all ends

in view, no matter

any distractions conspiring to deflect

(even defeat)

such perseverance as treading

a tightrope of conflicting alliances,

no safety-net

Too often, fickle contemporaneity

makes such demands

of those who take me to heart,

expecting compromise,

would all but see me in free fall;

yet, keep the faith,

and count every battle won,

a triumph over the world’s Naysayers

in self-denial

Not for the fainthearted, I, Motivation,

feed momentum to inspiration

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

A Word to the Wise

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

Some parents, especially mothers, so love their friends' children to be the best of friends. Mine was anxious to know why I had all but ignored a friend's son - a fellow pupil at my primary school - during a recent visit to their house, not far from where we lived. I recall shrugging and putting it to her that the other boy and I had nothing in common, unlike our respective parents. "I don't dislike him," I tried to explain, "... so much as, well, he's so different from me.We like different things and have little if anything in common so...what's the point?" "It's up to you, of course," my mother conceded, "...but there's a lot we can learn from each other's differences. Unfortunately, it's our differences that make the world the way it is rather than any willingness to learn from them." I shrugged off those words at the time, but they came back to haunt me at bedtime and have haunted me ever since.

Needless to say, we became good mates, that boy and me and, yes, we did learn a lot from each other even if it did take us awhile to agree to differ about (many) things without getting personal. We were never best friends, but always enjoyed each other's company. Indeed, when I finally came out to family and friends as a gay man, he was one of the first to say it made no difference, even quoting yours truly in so far as our differences do not make us different, only human.

A WORD TO THE WISE

Where did they all go,

days of childhood, where freedom

kept its word, any concerns

easily distracted by an enthusiasm

for new thing, new people

new avenues of thought less littered

with a narrow-mindedness

all too often found characterising

adulthood found wanting?

Where did they all go,

those days of emerging maturity

less fettered by the cares

and concerns of everyday survival.

still in the welcome grip

of curiosity, a sense of adventure,

an idealism tested

and found increasingly vulnerable

in as so-changing world?

Whatever happened

to halcyon days of early adulthood,

few leftover laurels

seen floating floods of opposition,

rejection and humiliation

touching base with needy conscience

and self-awareness, inciting

a rebel consciousness to explore ways

to make itself felt and heard?

Whatever happened

to that rebel in me, thinking to change

a world whose imperfections

are glossed over by a well-meaning

global consciousness, yet out

of touch with a common humanity

increasingly sensitive

to its much-divided politics and religions

all claiming to have answers?

No prescribed wisdom ever made less sense

than in any Here-and-Now

Copyright R. N. Taber 20194

[Note:This poem also appears on my general blog today.]

Sex, Lies and Stereotype

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

Most if not all gay men and women remember the horror of that damn closet, whether we are there for a long or short while. It has to be one of the 21st century’s greater tragedies that many gay people stay there all their lives because certain judgemental societies and/or socio-cultural-religious factors in the home continue to work against our Human Rights world-wide.

This poem was retrospective when it was written in 1995 following an exchange of closet anecdotes among gay friends, and is as relevant today as it was then.  Only a few months ago, here in London, I saw two young men kissing in a crowded gay bar that, according to the person standing next to me who pointed them out, had been with a ‘butch’ crowd he’d known since schooldays that regularly yelled homophobic abuse at him in the street. Obviously, they hadn’t yet realised that it really isn’t ‘in’ to be with an in-crowd that’s very much the wrong crowd. 

Mind you, I’ve often wondered about openly homophobic types. As Shakespeare, might well have said, methinks they do protest too much...

SEX, LIES AND STEREOTYPE

Billy was a shy boy

who lived in my hometown,

did well at school,

never played the fool,

had a voice as thick as honey,

kept his head in a book;

that first time he smiled

and said ‘hello’ I didn’t quite

know where to look

Early one morning

I went fishing at my special place;

Billy was already there,

tongues of red hair licking

at my face as I told him

to go, the sacrilege all his,

but he stood his ground;

I flung him down, a heat in us

rising like the dawn

Our lips brushed

as if meant, his sweet body sighed;

mine paused, replied

until spent, spiritually content

for finding sanctuary

in the lap of a songbird,

no willows weeping

or fish biting nor any hint

of unease or dissent

Down at the pub

one evening, drinking with the lads,

poised to win at darts,

my girl cheering … Enter Billy

with a mate, and I score

a bull! Crowd’s roaring my victory,

my girl adoring me

as I'm drowning in a swell

and, oh, so hurting ...

like hell

Copyright R. N. Taber 1995; 2012

[Note: Thus poem has been revised from an earlier version that has already appeared on the blog and in  my first collection,  Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]

Encounter in a Rose Garden

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

A new poem for the May 1st, but probably won’t be back until after my 2nd of three hormone implants (to shrink the prostate in preparation for a course of radiotherapy) in 10 days time. I feel fine, by the way.

Now, I have never liked being told what to do for no other reason than someone else thinks I should do things their way. I hate it when people tell me I must be sick or unnatural because I am gay, but can be ‘cured’ so long as I do as they say. The cheek of it! Only a fundamentalist egocentric of the religious or political kind would openly express such arrogance; the last people on Earth I would wish to emulate in any way shape or form. As for my sexuality, they may object to what I do in bed, but that is a private matter between me and whoever chooses to share it, no one else. We are always hearing about the individual’s right to privacy, not least because the world’s media choose to ignore it. Well, gay people have rights to privacy too.

Yes, I am sick, but because I have prostate cancer, not because I am gay. As for being unnatural, we are as we are born and there is nothing unnatural about that. It is high time those who continue to condemn gay people shut up, joined the 21st century, and got a life. Me, I have a life, and for all its ups and downs, it is one I hold dear. As I have said many times, we are not a race of clones (yet) and people should respect each other’s differences, not fight over them or claim superiority because they happen to think they are in the right so others who think differently must be in the wrong.

By all means, let’s debate, argue, and listen. Who knows? We might learn something. There is no place for didacticism in the modern world. (Certain world leaders, of a religious and/ or political nature, please take note!)

Some readers have expressed the view that I am too defensive about my sexuality. I don’t mean to be, not least because there is nothing to defend. I can see where a western gay person might be coming from, but they have to remember that the blog is read world-wide, including places where same sex relationships remain a criminal offence, punishable by a long spell in prison or even death. Besides, I want a gay men and women everywhere to feel GOOD about their sexual identity; it isn’t easy when you live in a gay-unfriendly environment. I grew up in one and it almost crushed me. Even in so-called ‘liberal’ western society, there are plenty who fail to grasp that our sexual identity, while important to us gay men and women, is all but irrelevant to society and our capacity for making a positive contribution to it.

Homophobia expresses itself in a variety of ways and I often meet and hear from gay people who feel all but crushed by it, as I was 50+ years ago.

Yes, yes, I know you’ve heard me say it all before. But as my dear late mother used to say, if something is worth saying it is worth repeating.

[Note: The quotation in stanza 7 below refers of course to William Blake’s poem The Sick Rose. I try to avoid obscure literary references in my poems, but this one is so well-known, I couldn’t resist. Even so, some readers will be unfamiliar with Blake who, among all the poets I have read, is probably the one who has influenced me the most in terms of philosophy and poetry.]

ENCOUNTER IN A ROSE GARDEN

‘Come, let me cure you,’
said a man in a long robe down
to his ankles

‘Come, be a better person,’
said the man with an air of quiet
desperation

'Let me show you how peace
and love can transcend any sexual
identity found wanting.’

‘Go away, and let me be,’
I told the man in a long robe down
to his ankles

‘Go, and be a better person
for discovering that humanity turns
on mutual respect.’

‘I am as nature birthed me,
and who are you (or I) to challenge
centuries of the same?’

‘O, rose, thou art sick!’
cited the cleric in a long robe down
to his ankles

He left, a vision of despair,
as I walked with my same sex lover
into a glorious summer

Copyright R N. Taber 2011