Yes!

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

“It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength.” - Maya Angelou

 “When we're talking about diversity, it's not a box to check. It is a reality that should be deeply felt and held and valued by all of us.” - Ava DuVernay

“It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.” - Audre Lorde

“Same-sex marriage has not created problems for religious institutions; religious institutions have created problems for same-sex marriage.” ― DaShanne Stokes

“My only regret about being gay is that I repressed it for so long. I surrendered my youth to the people I feared when I could have been out there loving someone. Don't make that mistake yourself. Life's too damn short.” - Armistead Maupin

Now,  apologies for making you wait for my first gay-specific post-poem of 2023.
As regular readers will know, I am in my late 70’s now and battling health issues on several fronts. As regular readers will also know, I have found it find it much harder to write gay-interest poems since being diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2012 and increasingly having to live in a Memory Box on Memory Lane.  😉

Mind you, a Memory Box beats a closet any day...😁

Stay safe, folks, stay positive, and never be afraid of saying "YES!" to being happy.

YES!

My gay lover asked me,
“How can we stay happy in a closet
like this...?”
My answer, a long, passionate kiss,
but my gay lover persisted,
“A kiss is no answer but to a dream,
so, let’s get real?
We need to tell family, friends, trust
they will see we are still
the same people, nor has being gay
been a choice

The only choice, each other,
as free to fall in love as anyone else,
anywhere in the world,
even where insensitivity, ignorance
about sexual identity
would mock us, even see us in jail
or worse...
The Here-and-Now, challenges us all
to live, laugh, cry,
 try to be happy, each in our own way,
straight or gay

We love family and friends
who love us too, so why unable to see 
how our differences
are in name only, the name of the game
being Fear…
Fear of the unknown, fear of being alone,
cast out by a religion
expecting us to stay true to its dogma
or go to a hell
that any of us knows, yes, only too well,
and made to dwell

Let’s come out to the world, You-Me-Us,
for better or worse, like everyone else?

YES!

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2023

Smiling Through

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

“There is a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in.” - Leonard Cohen

“ What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity.”- George Eliot

“You cannot do a kindness too soon, for you never know how soon it will be too late.” – Ralph Waldo Emerson

This post-poem also appears on my general blog today. Although many  LGBT readers visit both poetry blogs,  feedback suggests that there are still others who are not quite ready to accept that poetry is all-inclusive, to some degree or another. Whatever, I suspect I am not the only reader who has felt the light go out of their world and let someone's smile turn it on again...

Now, as regular readers will know, I have been treated with hormone therapy for my prostate cancer over a period of a good ten years now; one of the side-effects can be - as it is so for me - regular depression and/or a rising sense of panic whenever even small things go wrong. 

I suspect it may seem worse for older people like myself who live alone, which is maybe why we appreciate acts of kindness so much, as it helps (considerably) to alleviate these symptoms; someone able to spare just a few minutes to talk to you and help calm you down can make all the difference.

Since the pandemic, everyone has been under stress. Here in London, acts of kindness are noticeably in far shorter supply than they were previously. For example, fewer people are willing to pause to help ole Rog when clearly in difficulty or offer a seat on a crowded bus or train, so I have to stand, leaning on my walking stick for support. 

 Whenever anyone does offer me their seat, I thank them, throw them a huge smile, and the light in their eyes suggests it is as much welcome to them as their offer of a seat is to me.

As in many old sayings, there is much truth in the one about kindness bringing its own reward. 

Hopefully, we have seen the worst of Covid-19 and its variants, although there remain hard times ahead as the financial crisis finds so many people struggling to make ends meet.

All any of us can do is keep looking on the brighter, lighter side of life and take comfort in the knowledge that there is always light at the end of even the longest tunnel.

No, never easy, but... we have a choice?

SMILING THROUGH

This heart grew heavy,
loaded down with sadness, a sense
of feeling adrift,
barely keeping afloat for sailing
stormy waters,
struggling to make sense of a life
searching heart-and soul
for that familiar surge of a lively inspiration,
now gone quiet, all but a vacuum

Mind-body-spirit
struggling to rise above such despair
as strikes fear
in the hearts of those of us anxious
to make sense
of a You-Me-Us simply drifting along
having all but lost sight
of who we are any more, not as once we were,
birds of a feather, so happy together

Lately, even the smiles 
on our faces tell lies, trying to disguise
a You-Me-Us fallen apart
over tard times without our noticing,
taking us for granted,
failing to see how we rarely any more
as once we would
fondly reminisce about how we met, fell in love,
caught up in the magic of stars above

So… it came to pass,
we agreed a trial separation needing time
to think us through,
search the remains of who we once were,
try  and see a way clear
to bring You-Me-Us together again, fill 
the Black Hole
we found ourselves a lonely, grieving while apart,.
anxious to reconcile mind-body-spirit

Yes, we courted anew, years falling away, tears too,
a shared heart-and-soul smiling through

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

A Feeling for Spring

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

“Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.” - Mark Twain 

"Darkness cannot drive out darkness, only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that." - Martin Luther King Jr. 

“The bitterest tears shed over graves are for words left unsaid and deeds left undone.” - Harriet Beecher Stowe 

“For every minute you remain angry, you give up sixty seconds of peace of mind.”- Ralph Waldo Emerson

"To err is human, to forgive divine." - Alexander Pope

Now, I know this is not a gay-specific poem, unlike most of those in the blog archives, but I suspect most of us can relate to it one way or another, so have been encouraged to post it here since it appeared on my general poetry blog yesterday. Some readers will be of a religion that sees gay relationships as an unforgiveable sin. I have a problem with that, especially as I was taught that God is love. So, how can love between two people of the same sex be a sin...? 

Reader A. D. asks why I am “… so preoccupied with inter-communication between people, so-called ‘agreeing to differ’ and engaging in discussion even about personal issues where there are clearly radical differences of opinion. “Better for everyone, surely,” he or she suggests, “to let sleeping dogs lie?”  Well, we must, indeed, agree to differ, say so and shake on it. In my experience many if not most such 'sleeping dogs' are badly in need of a wake-up call; being left to sleep on,  thereby likely to inflict such damage on human relationships as not easily mended.

One of the greater tragedies of human nature is the inability or reluctance of many people to confront those against whom they may hold a grudge, invariably for fear of having to endure a bitter exchange of insults, commonly referred to as ‘home truths'.

Both parties are usually to blame, to some extent for broken relationships, but it takes only one to make a start on a healing process.  Many of us, including yours truly, have no idea how to make a start, whether it be with a family member, friend or neighbour, often for fear of being accused of simply making excuses for what has been perceived as unforgivable behaviour, but may well have been a misunderstanding due to circumstances left unshared. 

The longer any misunderstanding or genuine excuse remains silent, refusing to engage in any healing process, the longer any grudge will fester, mind-body-spirit, turning a deaf ear to whatever heart-and-soul is constantly mulling, even grieving over.

True, some broken relationships cannot be mended, but not for want of trying. Better to have tried and failed than never to have tried at all, though, surely? The problem remains, though, that some well-meaning efforts may well be misinterpreted, taking us back to square one. Even so, an aggrieved heart-and-soul may yet find a welcome measure of peace for having dispended with the futility of harbouring grudges.

A FEELING FOR SPRING

I am so much the sweeter taste
and fragrance of life, just for having
shed those darker senses
keeping heart-and-soul from engaging
fully, openly, positively
with a mind -body-spirit struggling
under the growing weight
of  ill-judged expectations or responses
plunging knives into You-Me-Us

Having been given no opportunity
to put my side of things as misunderstood
and left to fester, bad feeling
getting the better of any finer senses 
of fair play, never spoken,
kept hidden in recesses of heart-and-soul
feeding on bitterness,
happiness left to but make the best it can
of the contrariness of being human

I am as that first full kiss or spring,
come to relieve the pain of such wintry days
as we have felt obliged
to endure, no hint of  choice, no voice
for having been unable
to penetrate certain defences, both yours
and mine, now worn down 
by tears for such likely misunderstandings 
as deserving of happier landings

I am Forgiveness, making time for a fresh start,
finally come to flower in the human heart

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Hello again from London UK

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

“Remembrance and reflection, how allied. What thin partitions divides sense from thought.” – Alexander Pope

“We all need to get the balance right between action and reflections. With so many distractions, it is easy to forget to pause and take stock.” – Queen Elizabeth I I

“A Memory is a beautiful thing, it’s almost a desire that you miss.” Gustave Flaubert 

"Sexuality is one of the ways that we become enlightened, actually, because it leads us to self-knowledge." - Alice Walker 

Hello again, dear readers, from London, UK,

Sorry, no poem today as I write this post from a UK in mourning for the loss of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth 11 who died at her beloved Balmoral home yesterday. 

To say she was a remarkable woman has to be the understatement of decades. She was poetry in motion, a stable presence in an ever-changing world. Indeed, I suspect that even those of us who never knew or met her, will feel her loss more deeply than they might have expected.

Meanwhile, our condolences and heartfelt good wishes go to the Royal Family as King Charles 111 prepares to take on his mother’s mantle and wear in in a way to make her and this world of our proud. 

For many if not most of us, our journey through life can be tough at times. It is as such times when we need to do as Her late Majesty’s quote above suggests – pause and not only take stock but take heart as well. 

We should never lose sight of the bright(er) side of life; though it may well seem we are peering at it through a thickening fog, be sure the fog will clear and we will feel the light and warmth of the sun on our faces again.

As regular readers will know, I consider myself a pantheist and agree with Frank Lloyd Wright whom I have quoted on the blog before as saying “I believe in God, only I spell it Nature.”

God is Love, God is Nature, a living, permanent presence in us if we choose to let it in and help us on our way through the good, the bad and uglier aspects of the landscape that is life. 

Take care, everyone and many thanks, as always, for dropping by.  In the absence of any new poem-posts, you may enjoy dipping into the archives....?

Thinking of and rooting for you all,

Hugs,

Roger

PS This post also appears on my general poetry blog today, but as feedback suggests that not all LGBT readers dip into it even though poetry is for everyone, regardless of gender, ethnicity, religion or, yes, sexuality. I just wanted to say a special thank you for dropping by and  be sure to nurture a positive-thinking mindset, Don't let any ignorant bigots make you think any less of yourself. I did, once, and endured a lonely closet existence for some years...

Conversations

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

Apologies to new reader, Y F, - who tells me he is bisexual - for not adding gay-specific poem-posts to my gay poetry blog as often as I add general-interest pieces to this one. (Similarly, there is both general (fantasy) and gay fiction on my fiction blog.) As I have said here before, though, I find it hard to write any poems these days, given a continuing battle against various health issues, including the kind of mental stress that years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer has imposed in recent years; as if having to contend with the ever-present threat of Covid-19 and variants hasn’t imposed stress enough on all of us… 

Writing as well as reading poetry is not only great creative therapy, it is a welcome distraction from our own trials and tribulations as well as those dominating various world landscapes...! The same can be said for any form of creative therapy, of course, whether it be arts forms, dressmaking, gardening... whatever... and can achieve a far greater sense of well-being than any medicines.

Now, email feedback suggests, Y F, that many LGBT readers now get in touch to say they dip into both poetry blogs, so if you have an interest in poetry for its own sake, you might want to do the same as well as browsing the archives of either or both blogs? 

On the principle that a poem is a poem is a poem - regardless of content - this post-poem will appear on both poetry blogs today. Now and then, the occasional reader will complain when I do this, but it can do no harm, surely, to remind some heterosexually biased readers that a person is a person is a person too…? It is a sad indictment on the 21st century that anyone should need reminding, and good to see many straight young people, from all walks of life, opening their hearts and minds to the LGBT ethos.

Hopefully, among future generations, far fewer gay men and women, boys and girls - regardless of race or religion - will need to live a lie in order to sustain all-important family ties; the family ethos, too, should be about love and trust, should it not? Or how else can we, as civilised human beings, hope to learn from and respect one another…?

CONVERSATIONS 

People ask me if I am happy
to be gay, wouldn’t I rather be ‘normal’,
less of a curiosity…?
I ask them, “I am as I am, it’s me,
so why expect mind-body-spirit to reason
any differently…?”

People ask me why I choose
to be gay, wouldn’t I much rather win over
society than lose?
I tell them, “This or that society
has ever harboured bigots, their prejudices
pass over me…
Sexuality is no lifestyle choice,
but a way of giving such life forces as inspire
heart and soul - a voice…”

People ask me if I am happy
with a voice as likely as not to be sneered
at by so many…?
I ask them, “Is it any fault of mine
if they are ignorant of ways of personal space
other than their own…?
Why should anyone’s sexuality
matter to others, all of us sons and daughters,
a common humanity…?”

People ask me how I can justify
crossing lines set in stone by world religions,
yet dare invoke spirituality?
I tell them, “God is Love., you see,
and no love was ever set in stone, would side
with any bigotry…
Love and let love, each to our own,
and may we forgive who would judge us harshly
lash out at us or disown…”

People ask me if I am happy
to be gay, wouldn’t I rather be ‘normal’,
less of a curiosity…?
I ask them, “I am as I am, it’s me,
so why expect mind-body-spirit to reason
any differently…?”

Copyright R N Taber, 2022

Titles from the Archives

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

Hello from London, UK

Several readers have emailed me to say they don't have time to browse the archives, so can U list some titles to which they can go directly. I am listing some here, and will provide some more titles in the hear future if readers seem to prefer it. So, you might like to try:

Taking the 'y' Out of Gay

Ordinary People

A Gay Dad's Story

Millions like Us

A Ballad for Gay Pride

Bus Fare

Children of the Willow

Engaging with James Baldwin

Divisions of the Heart

Engaging with Gender Identity

Mission Impossible

Out of Africa

Answering to Nature

Conspiracy of Faith 

Cops, Queers and Caravaggio

A deaf LGBT readers asks if I have written any poems about deafness; he or she might enjoy:

A Good Sign

Eyes of Desire

May I just say, though, that poetry - whatever its content - is all-inclusive and  non-judgemental; not everyone will like a particular poem, of course, but every poet tries to reach out to everyone. So, why a separate gay-interest poetry blog? Well, sadly, in all parts of the world (Yes, even in so-called 'enlightened' countries and communities) LGBT folks continue to face discrimination and worse...  

Take care, keep well and nurture as positive thinking a mindset as you can in the circumstances available to you. Oh, and remember, our sexuality makes us no different from anyone else and, likewise, deserving of  respect, not abuse.

Hugs,

Roger

PS If you find this post of interest and would like to know further titles in the archives that you can type in and access immediately, feel free to email me with POETRY in the subject field.

Please, Listen

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

Often in life, the more important and personal it is that we need to tell someone, the harder it is to find the right words; words that will not be misunderstood or fail to communicate our depth of feeling; a lesson for the learning, indeed, not least as as true love starts to flower and engaging in a relationship takes on a whole new meaning,...

Nor does the principle apply only to lovers. Expressing out trues feelings about someone or something we are anxious to communicate is a problem - if not a crisis of self-confidence - for many of us.

PLEASE, LISTEN

You lay your head on my shirt,
listening to my heart
and does it tell you all the things
I so long to say, but can never find
the words?

No? Then listen, and let my heart
tell you so...

Do you hear a love song taught me
by the birds, confessing
how I need you more, far more,
than I can say since love, it came
to stay?

No? Then listen, and let my heart
tell you so...

We were meant for one another,
soulmates forever,
life, love, dreams, looking out
for each other...
especially at times when it feels as if
the world is failing us, hope falling apart
at the seams

Now, listen and let this heart of mine
tell you how...

Come, passion’s heat, no hearth
simply smouldering,
but as lightening may well charge
Earth’s own heart in the course of fierce
summer storms

Ah, no need for words, the moment
taking us over,
our bodies engaging with each other,
in such passion and peace as bodes well
for You-Me-Us

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001; rev. 2021

[Note: This poem has been significantly revised since I wrote it in 2001 and included it in my collection, First Person Plural, Assembly Books, 2002; it appears on both poetry blogs today, not least because poetry is totally without prejudice, unlike some people....] RT

 

Points of View

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

Rising above a deteriorating quality of life these days, mostly due to various health issues, I am rarely in the mood to reply to emails unless they are from friends and/or about poetry or such passions as also provide mind-body spirit with creative therapy as well as a healthy emotional diet.  However, someone who signs themselves ’an elderly male reader’ has expressed despair at being “...unable, for various reasons, to make love to my partner of nearly thirty years.” and worries that the partner “... is already  looking elsewhere, and I will be left alone...”

I am in no position to advise as I have been without a partner for the best part of a lifetime, but I have been in love and I strongly suspect that this reader has nothing to fear. It is important, though, that he and his partner talk about this. Too many of us fail to discuss our more intimate concerns with loved ones; either we are embarrassed and/ or fear the possible outcome. Whatever, it is always better to know than just suspect; the latter can only loose all manner of demons upon us, not the least being jealousy.

As regular readers will know, years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer has left me with no appetite for sex in any form; even porn mags don’t turn me on. At first, it left me feeling emotionally inadequate, and I missed the sheer pleasure of lovemaking. Now, though, I take pleasure even more pleasure in such simple delights as meeting up and putting the world to rights (as if!) with friends and/or visiting places I love, whether for real or in my imagination.  

While I don’t miss sex anymore, I can appreciate that it's not the same for everyone, nor do all men of a certain age lose either their appetite for sex or their ability/ inclination to perform. Even so, the expression ‘making love’ is something of a misnomer, to say the least; love is not made, it is created between soulmates who are mutually inspired by letting it grow and mature. 

There is great pleasure to be taken from sex between partners who are physically attracted to one another, and nothing wrong with it at all, but whether or not they fall in love, that is something else altogether.

A heart-to-heart between this reader and his partner will establish the emotional paths both need to take; should the partner need to continue satisfying his or her sexual appetite the reader should try not  see this as a poor reflection on their love for one another. Easier said than done, I agree, but life is rarely easy in every way. Such are the ways of love that they, too, are no less inclined to test mind-body-spirit from time to time, trusting it to pass with flying colours... or not, as the case maybe.

POINTS OF VIEW

At open windows by the sea,
listening to waves telling and retelling
stirring tales of derring-do,
discovery and exploration, lifting
spirits while breaking hearts
of those left counting days and nights
before any returns on dreams
likely to leave pride in tears, love in pain,
time after time, and time again 

At open windows on cornfields,
leafy woodlands and all manner of bird
and beast sure to nurture
its natural surroundings in the time left
before the human race,
cocksure of ways and means to match
any end-of-world scenarios,
continues to confuse its images of progress
with paths of peace and happiness 

At open windows on the world,
expecting even more from its seasons,
in demonstrating our worth,
nature and human nature, each as vulnerable
as the other to kindness
and neglect, pride, disrespect. even violence
as weathered during Earth Mother’s
labour pains for both peopling and colouring
landscapes worth the nurturing 

At dead of night, left to reflect
on such life-forces as have inspired us
to let love light up our lives, thereby creating
a kinder, wiser personal space, addressing
past mistakes, shying away
from a Here-and-Now that’s dependent
on algorithms as may well suffice,
but never replace innate sensibilities, life forces
defining Earth Mother for centuries... 

Reminding nature-and-human-nature how progress
is best judged by its capacity for alleviating distress

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

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

Starting Out

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

Not one of my better poems today, but I enjoyed writing it after a lively chat with a young man on the London Underground. 😉

We made an unlikely pair, two masked men, one in the first flush of a Here-and-Now still full of possibilities, and yours truly in the latter years of a Here-Today-Gone-Tomorrow.😀 

We had once worked together when he was mostly stuck in the proverbial closet and he was keen to relate his experience of having come out of it...😁 

Sadly, my prostate cancer means I have been virtually asexual for some years now, but a guy can dream, can’t he, even at 75+...? 😊

Although most world religions love to impose guilt on LGBT folks for our being 'sinners', how can love be a sin, especially since they also insist that God is love...? As for enjoying sex, with or without love... well, that's just human. People can make what 'moral judgements' they like, but what gives any of us the right to do that?

No one should be made to consider themselves less than human, whatever their sexual persuasion; if their religion is an integral part of who they are, nor should they be made to feel any God of Love would exclude them from it...whatever anyone else might say. 

I can almost hear people snort, "Oh, and what does he know... but what do any of us really know?  Such is the heart of whatever it is we believe in;  it bypasses beyond all knowledge. 

As I have put to blog readers before... if those of us who feel unable to subscribe to any world religion, for whatever reason, can respect those who do, why can't we all simply agree to differ instead of taking offence?

 STARTING OUT 

Dark blue suit, white shirt,
red tie, glossy black shoes, a hint
of yellow socks, perfectly groomed hair,
a slick, city guy for sure

He was chatty with everyone
in the bar, if going easy on the drinking,
“He’s into mind games.” a sixth sense said
as we had sex in my head 

I looked away and got chatting
to a barman while he expertly pulled me
another beer, the stranger all but forgotten,
fantasy kept well hidden 

Gazing absently into my beer,
till someone’s bending my ear, looked up
to see a pair of smiling eyes, coloured green,
looking directly into mine 

“You’re a quiet one,” he said,
a twinkle in each eye and lips relaxing
into a cheeky grin, “I’m only passing through,
and I really fancy you...” 

I laughed and flung arms wide,
“Why me, when you can have your pick
of anyone here?” His turn to ask with a grin,
“Is that a ‘no’ then...?” 

“Why me?” I asked again, playing,
for time, head acting out the same fantasy,
brain’s traffic lights on amber, body in a sweat,
my first time out... 

He told me his name, I told him mine,
and we made small talk over another beer
until he asked if I lived nearby and would I be ok
with making his day... 

“I’ve not done this before,” I blurted, 
expecting a roar of laughter, but he just shrugged,
leaned forward and whispered, “Frankly, me neither,
so, let’s be good to each other...” 

We were more than good to each other
the night he stayed over, and I’d wake next to others
in due course, never (quite) as in love, though, it’s true
as now when I wake next to you 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Whisperers or L-OV-E, open all Hours

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

I had planned to post this poem here on Monday but my to-do list is already barely manageable , so... here it is. A reader (who appears to feel the need to emphasise that she is "not gay" has asked for a poem to help herself and family death with the death of a close friend, suggesting " .. . a celebration of the life we shared rather than homing in on loss and grief..."

At the risk of being boringly repetitive, love comes in all shapes and forms, always a welcome if not essential support to any mind-body-spirit found wanting...at any time, for any reason.

THE WHISPERERS or LOVE, OPEN ALL HOURS

Think not that I have gone,
but only this of me,
that once there was a man
unable to (quite)
enter into access any real sense
of belonging
other than by way of a feeling
for love in all its multifarious shapes
shapes and forms 

Thanks to love, I (finally)
began to rise above
the world’s prejudices and hate,
embrace my sexuality,
commit to it, not least in poetry
inspired and nurtured
by that same Earth Mother
that gives birth to us, whom we leave
but to return in time 

Much like autumn’s kisses,
I’ll rise above any tears,
revisit shared memories sure
to feed love’s seasons,
in all weathers, good and bad,
carrying such seeds
as any Here-and-Now may sow
if only to survive in sickness and health,
for better, for worse 

Though any mind-body-spirit
may miss the realities
of love, its other (existential) self
lives on such memories
as nurture it still, selecting those
homing in on that peace
and kindness sworn to help save
any human heart in left pain, as and when,
whatever it takes 

Our joys, as leaves in a breeze
asking we but look out
for them, hear what they see
in us as they fly by
on wings possibly invoking envy
of a human spirit blessed
with potential for getting the better
of mortality, courtesy of all personal space
and shared history 

While a sorry world continues
to yearn (as it surely will)
for an all-inclusive mindset, I fly
where Doves of Peace 
keep its promises, death shows us
its kinder side and love,
it watches over us, keeps us safe,
who have yet to rework its finer arts on winds
set fair for life

Think not that I have gone, 
for there’s a you-me-us comprising
a mind-body-spirit
wherein any lonely, wintry days
needs must give way
to sunnier climes, if only for the sake
of a love like ours,
free, now, to be of good heart for such heavens
as are open all hours

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

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

S-E-X-U-A-L-I-T-Y, Life Drawings OR L-O-V-E, the Anthology

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

Despite the usual trolls, the likes of which I always ignore, yesterday’s prose post on my gay-interest  blog appears to have been well received by its readers, so much so that I felt inspired to write a new poem; while it will be of special interest to LGBT readers, I am also posting it on my general poetry blog today although I suspect it may offend some people. What’s that I hear? How can a poem offend anyone?  Oh, but I learned way back in my formative years how quickly some people take offence, even where none is intended. 

An old friend, knowing that I am gay, once commented that he feels uncomfortable in the presence of gay people. I chose not to take offence, especially as he hadn't known I was gay when we first met some 40 years previously, but the hurt I felt remains to this day.

At 75, my memory is none too reliable, not least due to various health issues and subsequent treatment  and I’m often told off for repeating myself, but - as my dear mother would often say - if something is worth saying, it is always worth repeating; in this case, that a poem is a poem is a poem, whatever its theme, just as a person is a person is a person, whatever their gender, ethnicity, political/ religious persuasion or, yes, sexuality. Few of us would argue differently on principle; as for putting that same principle into practise, human nature being what it is...

A schoolfriend once commented with a huge sigh that the world turns on human nature, to which another friend commented, “Better that than stereotypes,” to which a third friend added, with a wicked grin, “There’s a difference?” All three looked at me expectantly, but, coward that I was back then, I refused to be drawn and changed the subject. That was some 60 years ago, yet I overheard much the same conversation while keeping a social distance behind four young people only the other day… with my hearing aid turned on, of course. 😉

S-E-X-U-A-L-I-T-Y, LIFE DRAWINGS or LO-V-E, THE ANTHOLOGY

Once, I hid within myself,
afraid of coming out or being outed
to the world, given to believe
that my being gay was at best, a crime,
at worst, a sin 

Once, when I was younger,
and gullible, less wise to societies open
to homophobic agenda-dogma,
I was given to believe my homosexuality
made me an outcast 

Once, while growing older,
I met a man, fell in love despite my fears,
shared a heavenly spirituality,
of a beauty I’d been warned You-Me-Us
needs must forfeit 

Old now, looking back in anger
for years I may well have missed had love
in all its richness not come my way,
for fear of its being stigmatised by the likes
of my so-called 'betters' 

Some may well wish me in Hell
for my engaging in same-sex relationships,
but love is a heaven of its own making,
and God is Love, so how, by its very nature,
any less worthy of nurture? 

Many questions, as many answers,
as we journey our years and personal space,
but let not fear deprive us of love’s ways;
in love, the greater part of the human condition,
that’s first among equals 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

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

 

All Lives Matter

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

A reader asks why I rarely post any specifically gay-interest poems here any more. Well, I'm 75 years-old now and fear I have almost run out of bardic steam altogether, having written well over 1000 poems since I started writing up both poetry blogs some ten years ago. At the time, I knew of few gay poets apart from Thom Gunn, and was unable to relate to many of his poems. 

Writing poems is partly creative therapy for me as I have had a running battle with depression all my life. More importantly, though, I wanted to encourage gay men and woman living in the kind of homophobic society in which I grew up to feel better and more confident in their sexuality than I did in my early years; feedback suggests there are still plenty of us around the world whose home and/or cultural environment remains as homophobic as when I was a young man. As regular readers will know, I was in my early 30's before I finally emerged from a lonely closet and came out to the world as a gay man.

Although I write few specifically LGBT poems now, many poems that I post on my general blog are simply written with any reader in mind who feels, for whatever reason, something of an outsider. I relate to one particular quote by the novelist James Baldwin, so intensely, it hurts: 

"Not everything that is faced can be changed, but nothing can be changed until it is faced." 

Having faced up to and defied my own demons, I (naively perhaps)  wanted to encourage others to do the same, not only for their own well-being, but also in the hope that same sex relationships - especially between men - might become less stigmatised and stereotyped around the world. 

Nor is it a world devoid of spirituality. I, personally, have never believed that any religion has a monopoly on spirituality. I don't subscribe to any of the world religions because homophobia is the worst kind of religious hypocrisy. Essentially, they all claim to be about love; God is love. Yet, love is neither as selective or discriminatory as various religious agendas or dogma would have us believe. Love is universal.

I respect a person's religious beliefs, of course I do, but if looks could kill, I would be long dead for being critical of any religion. As I have asked so many times on both blogs, whatever happened to agreeing to differ?

In latter years, I am increasingly drawn to Pantheism, a religious philosophy that sees God as Nature, not its creator. 

Having always nurtured a close relationship with the natural world, it offers me  - as a person as well as a poet - a comfort and vision of life that is far more inspirational that anything to which any world-centred agenda or dogma can come close. It is not for everyone, of course, but it has helped me find myself,  discover and nurture an intimacy with an inner self that might otherwise have remained a complete mystery and left me floundering. I cannot claim to have solved the mystery, of course, even in relation to myself, but attempting to do so has brought me closer that I dared hope; it has been a long journey, often a tough one, not least for exposing my various weaknesses and fears demanding t I face and overcome them; a journey well worth the making, and not over yet. 

It is reassuring to see that many young people are embarking on much the same journey and that at least some societies and communities worldwide are less inclined to stigmatise them for it.

As for its being considered a different, even sinful journey by the many bigots among us, as I have said so ay times on my blogs, our differences do not make us different, only human.

"The curious thing is that I embraced homosexuality with as much joy and delight as I've embraced everything else in my life." Miriam Margolyes

Feedback suggests that many gay readers only read this blog, but please di dip into my general poetry blog from time to time; you may find the archives of either or both blogs worth dipping into also; if you like poetry, that is, and I know not everyone does, nor do I imagine you will like everything I write, possibly not a lot, but if what you read provides food for positive rather than negative thought and feeling...well, what more can a poet ask? 

At the moment, I am trying to compile a new collection for publishing in print and on-line, but I will be thinking of and rooting for you all still. I hope to post a new poem on my general blog at least once a week, so please do drop by; a poem is a poem is a poem, after all, just as a person is a person is a human being, regardless of gender, ethnicity or sexual persuasion.

Take care, everyone, and be sure to nurture a positive mindset, whatever life throws at you

Hopefully, back soon... with a poem😉

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: The greater part of this post appears on both poetry blogs today.] RT

 

L-O-V-E, making History

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

Our thoughts this weekend, have inevitably focused on the death of H R H Prince Phillip, the Duke of Edinburgh and the impact his passing will inevitably bring to bear on Her Majesty, the Queen especially, and other members of the Royal Family. 

No one, of course, knows what goes on behind closed doors, fewer still are aware of the finer workings of the human heart. Even so, media footage and photographs over the years, all tell the story of a couple in love, a guaranteed place in the history of our nation and the world notwithstanding. (While relatively few people can claim the latter, engaging with love - in whatever shape or form - invests it (and us) with a global consciousness that suggests a universal mind-body-spirit intent on making its own history, and us a part of it, if we let it.) 

As I have suggested time and again on the blog, love invests us with a spiritual quality that never dies, but lives on in the hearts and minds of all those whom it may have unforgettably influenced by word, deed or infinite presence; people, places, lines in favourite examples of literature… all these contribute to who we are, and all are associated with the finer aspects of love. 

So it is, that we all contribute to world history by way of the inspiration love inspires, even though most of us will never make the history books. So it is, too, that we all leave our mark on the world, often barely if ever recognised or acknowledged. Such is the posthumous consciousness peculiar to the human race, ensuring that love never dies whether we aspire to the ethics of this religion or that… or not, as the case may be. (Incidentally, I suspect it is also why yours truly identifies so closely with Pantheism.)

L-O-V-E, MAKING HISTORY 

Always there,
trimming edges of all that’s said
and left unsaid 

Always there,
profiling the substance of illusion
enhancing delusion 

Always there,
high flying partner in a trapeze ac
that’s custom-perfect 

Always there,
comforter-mentor to the you-me-us
no one else ever sees 

Always there,
sounding out any sounds of silences
as sure to make waves 

Always there,
light of my life, heart of my darkness,
whatever it takes 

Always there, 
its kinder ideas eager to dry any tears,
for our fears  

Always there,
the Here-and-Now, given us to nurture
a past-present-future 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

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

Forever OR An Existential Take on Close Relationships

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

Hello again, everyone, from London UK. Many thanks for dropping by, always much appreciated.

Still unwell here, but no coronavirus, just various medical issues (and old age) having their wicked way with me, but I’m hoping to complete another (general) poem soon, so… watch this space.

Q. How can I write poems when I feel unwell?

A. Because the effort required to motivate myself invariably energises me to tap into the Spirit of Creativity which, in turn (for better or worse) chases up mind-body-spirit for a poem. 

Meanwhile…

A poem is a poem is a poem, whatever it has to say. Could that, I wonder, be why feedback suggests more gay readers read both blogs? 

Now, apart from the availability of vaccines, good news in the course of a pandemic is hard to find, so I am more than happy to share some with you. A reader (gender unknown) has emailed to say that both  partners were rejected by their respective families several years ago for being gay “because our religion does not allow it. “Since the pandemic,” the reader goes on to say that “Both families have expressed concern for our welfare and are suggesting a reconciliation They are even willing to ‘tolerate’ our living in sin.” We don’t see our love for each other as a sin nor do we like the idea of being tolerated, but miss our families. What do you think? 

What I think is not important. What matters is what these two young people think. Since they miss their families, I suspect they would regret missing an opportunity to be reconciled. 

As for being tolerated, everyone may well feel they are treading on eggshells for a while, but it is always good news when blood gets the better of bigotry, and we all thrive on good news, so, hopefully, this will pass. I would be inclined to see how reconciliation shapes up while not expecting too much too soon. 

Whatever path his couple choose, I am sure any readers will join me in wishing them every happiness. 

FOREVER or AN EXISTENTIAL TAKE ON CLOSE RELATIONSHIPS 

I had never felt worse
than missing someone so close to my heart,
who had passed away,
without my even being there to hold a hand
or say things left unsaid
over years of sharing such bad times as may
have cast long shadows
but for our finding ways to reconcile with every one
each to its own, and in its turn 

There seemed no need
to put our feelings into words, content to let
our hearts speak for us;
yet, don’t actions speak louder than words
and didn’t we two
have the rest of our lives to prove just that?
Death, though, had a whim
to so impose itself on our conjoined personal space
as to have me spit in its face 

Anger, pain, expressions
of grief the heart knows but too well, the more
for such happy memories
as only love can invoke, and invoke, it will,
nurturing the same seeds
that saw it grow in us  re-engage in the process
of (still) taking their cue
from the kinder shades of nature and human nature
in some existential ‘Forever’ 

Where the Gates of Eternity open on love’s poetry,
none are refused entry for their sexuality 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021 

[Note: This post-poem appears on both poetry blogs today.]

 

 

 

Forgiven

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

Today’s (new) poem was inspired by a tale of two old friends of mine, lovers for years, having made it up after a nasty tiff; the tiff itself, probably made all the worse by the tension we are all feeling during this awful pandemic.

 FORGIVEN

A masked man sat near me
in a bar, and social distancing with his body
while getting up close
with wide blue eyes dispensing with any need
for words 

I found myself listening to eyes
enabling words of love to pierce cloth ears,
invade my personal space,
take my heart prisoner, be sure I catch the sob
in its voice 

Any resistance on my part, futile
from the start, those eyes long since engraved
on a mind-body-spirit
regretting harsh words spoken in the rising heat
of a moment 

As I swam in those beautiful eyes,
waves lapping intimately at all parts of me,
it was like a homecoming,
all your senses and mine embracing a missed-you
kind of greeting 

The masked man drained his glass,rose
and headed for the exit without looking back,
nor was there any need;
four eyes had said all there was to say, two bodies
left on love to feed 

Back home, masks off, in a bubble
of comfortable silence, we ate a meal abandoned
in rage, now forgotten,
tucking in, confident of glorious days ahead for our
having been forgiven

Copyright R. N. Taber 2020

Take care, folks, and try not to let Covid stress get to you even if looking on the bright(er) side of life requires peering through an emotional fog to find it,

Hugs,

Roger 

[Note a gay-friendly married couple insisted I post this poem on my general blog as well today on the grounds that "It will probably ring a bell with couples worldwide, gay or straight ...]

Stereotypes, Daggers in the Heart

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

This poem first appeared on the blog in 2016.

I am not happy with the new blogger and wasn't when I was invited to try it some time ago. I had hoped we bloggers might  be given a choice  to continue in the old format, but it appears not, so I may not be blogging here for much longer. It is typical - in my personal experience - that so many people and organizations, even some shops, give little thought to how many older people like myself  - who do not have i-phones or android and struggle with internet technology, are easily confused, especially those of us living alone and have been struggling with other health issues long before the Covid-19 pandemic. However, I will see how I get on with the new format, but am not optimistic.

I am often asked to repeat the link to my informal poetry reading on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square as my contribution to Sir Antony Gormley's One and Other 'live' sculpture' project in 2009. The entire web stream of 2400 hours is archived in the British Library:

.

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T  [ [NB: The British Library have confirmed that the video is no longer available as it was incompatible with a new IT system. However, it still exists and BL hope to reinstate it and make it available to the public again at some future date.] RNT

To suggest all gay men are paedophiles is every bit as absurd as it is to suggest everyone from any one socio-cultural-religious group is a terrorist. Tragically, stereotypes have a nasty habit of spreading and some people start mistaking them for truths which they duly pass on ...

I was only 14 years-old when I realised I am gay. Men I encountered at local gay cruising grounds were no paedophiles; on the contrary, they taught me how to think better of myself after being raised to think homosexuality is shameful. I did not feel able to come out to the world as a gay man for some years, not least because same sex relationships were illegal here in the UK until 1969; neither was I able to quite shake off the hostility I had met towards those like myself until much later, but thanks to those early encounters I was eventually encouraged to do so.  

The less enlightened among the heterosexual majority tend to forget that gay boys and girls, too, need to learn about sexual relationships; it is vital that sexual/ gender identity issues are discussed openly and intelligently in schools everywhere - including Faith Schools - so that children do not grow up with false, if not warped impressions, of what it means to be gay, bisexual, transgender or simply confused, even frightened by the way they start to identify with their sexuality as their teenage years kick in.. 

Sadly, various socio-cultural-religious agendas do no one who is not a diehard heterosexual any favours; consequently, even in a supposedly 'enlightened' twenty-first century, there are LGBT folks around the world, from all walks of life, forced to live their lives in the shadows or - worse - some dark lonely closet, such as I once did for years.

STEREOTYPES, DAGGERS IN THE HEART 

I’ll be your friend a child told an old man,

but he shook his grey head, sighing;

the child took careworn hands in his own,

sad to see already rheumy eyes crying

I’d love to be your friend said the old man

but some people will get the wrong idea;

they’ll be looking at you and looking at me,

and feeding old lies to imagination, I fear

It’s time I was on my way said the old man,

I’ve been warming this bench too long.

"Go child, and have fun, as much as you can,

it doesn’t last, innocence, being young…"

The child ran off, puzzled by catching Gran

throw daggers at the kindly, lonely old man

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2016

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber. 2005.]

Feeling is Believing OR Comfort and Joy

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

This poem first appeared on the blog in 2010. [I do not intend to repeat all earlier poems, but readers are welcome to explore the blog archives as indicated in the far right column of any blog page; poems published again here have been removed, and in some cases, revised.]

Now, I always write love poems with my late partner in mind even though he died years ago and we were able to spend little time together before he was killed in a road accident; sadly, it was a 'closet' relationship society was predominantly hostile towards same sex relationships in those day; they were a criminal offence here in the UK until the Sexual Offences Act, England and Wales (1967) legalised homosexual acts between two men  on the condition they were consensual, in private and had attained the age of 21. Age of Consent equality, though, did not come until 2001 in England, Scotland and Wales, and 2009 in Northern Ireland.

Hopefully, readers will always find time and space enough within themselves  to get in touch with their own deeper feelings. In this sense at least, all religious faiths and festivals have something in common. 

Love has the capacity for rising above the worst life and nature may feel inclined to throw at it, including winter, a winter of the heart as well as of the meteorological kind.

Yes, here I go again. The message of all religious faiths and festivals - is one of peace and love; who hears  and acts upon it, is another matter.

Long, long live love … and let's not discriminate against LGBT folks just because it offends some heterosexual 'norm'; in a common humanity, diversity is part of what should be an all-inclusive norm, not an exception to any rules laid down and spread by any religious dogma as a socio-cultural-religious 'norm'. God is love, after all.

Long, long live peace, too, wherever it is given even half a chance.

As for peace of mind, we can but try for it, and once we find, be sure to share it, if only to take  comfort and joy from watching the ripples spread ...

Gay or straight, there is more to anyone than his or her sexuality; certain individuals, organizations, and communities (parents, too) - worldwide - would serve themselves and others by far better for keeping that in mind.

FEELING IS BELIEVING or COMFORT AND JOY

I could hear bells ringing,
choir voices singing,
snow falling like manna 
from heaven for kids 
and snowmen while I gazed 
from a window,
nose against the pane,
never felt so alone

Suddenly, I saw you there,
sunshine in the hair,
so near, and yet so far …
a dear, familiar grin
daring me rejoin the comfort 
of togetherness
and share in festivity
than bare self-pity

Loneliness ebbing away,
I came out to play 
that wonderful winter's day;
you threw snowballs,
missed, and we kissed…
your lips so sweet 
and warm, grey-blue eyes 
forgiving me for living

Where snow piles your grave,
that winter's night,
we made love while bells 
rejoiced us and angels 
chorused all the pleasures 
of togetherness
that is the joy of festivity,
defying self-pity

Not once a year but every day,
love finds a way 
to bring such comfort and joy
as embraces us all,
nurturing the more positive
side of human nature,
heart and soul of a humanity
celebrating its diversity

If God is Love, and love acts thus,
where does bigotry have a place?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002, 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002; it was originally written as a Christmas poem, but feedback suggested this made it come across as less all-inclusive]RNT

An Autumn Kindling

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

Today's poem first appeared on the blog in 2011.

Strange, isn't it, how some snatches of idle conversation stay in your head for all time while we can often barely recall the substance of the most earnest debate?

When I was a kid, some 70 years ago, overheard someone remark to my mother how she loved spring because ‘it’s the month for falling in love, and you’re never too old for that.’ My mother agreed, but added, ‘Love doesn’t have a season, silly. It’s an anytime, anyplace, anywhere, anyone thing.’

She knew a thing or two, my mum. 

AN AUTUMN KINDLING

Autumn is a sad time, some say,

yet it’s a glad time of year for me,

recalling how one cold October

brought us a gloriously sunny day

when we paused, total strangers,

to watch squirrels in a tree at play

The tree, it was a pretty evergreen,

its shiny leaves smelling of summer,

recalling how one gorgeous June

I’d met a stunningly handsome man,

misread a one-night stand as love,

swore how I’d never go there again

The squirrels were a sight to see,

seemed unconcerned by our laughter;

we caught each other’s lively eye

and your smile, it stirred ashes in me

as near dead flames starting to flicker,

autumn wind blowing far less coldly

We chatted for a while, took a photo

of the playful squirrels on our phones

till they scampered way out of sight;

nothing else for it now but part and go

our separate ways, yet we lingered,

and in your eyes, I saw my fire’s glow

Winter days are cheerless, some say,

yet they’re a glad time of year for me,

recalling how one golden October

blessed us with a glorious autumn day

when we paused, we total strangers,

to watch squirrels in tall pine at play

The tree, oh, the prettiest evergreen,

its shiny leaves smelling of summer

and already re-working my life history,

telling the squirrels all about two men

getting very cosy and warm if shyly,

and plainly intending to go there again

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011; 2020