Homing in on The 'I' in Diversity OR Gay in Ghana

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

Now and again, readers from Ghana appear among Google statistics relating to my gay-interest poetry as well as its general counterpart. Comments cannot be viewed although I always reply to any left in the Comments Box if people care to include an email address; understandably readers from those countries where gay relationships remain a criminal offence rarely do so. Some readers contact me at my home e-address [rogertab@aol.com] and ‘Poetry’ in the subject field guarantees a reply if clearly not spam.

I am in my 70's now, but well recall meeting a young man from Ghana in a local gay bar here in London UK some years ago; we were drawn to each other, although not sexually, and enjoyed a long chat. He left with someone else, but paused to give me a hug before disappearing from my life if not my memory. He was, he told me, feeling suffocated at home in Ghana, having to act a part he neither related to and hated, but felt he had no choice. As I had been in much the same situation here in the UK at his age, we had a lot in common, and hopefully his life, as mine (eventually) did, has worked out all the better for him; he may still need to act a part in the world’s eye, but hopefully he can be himself as time, place, people and circumstances permit.

Doesn't everyone deserve the basic Human Right, to be themselves?

This poem is a villanelle.

HOMING IN ON THE 'I' IN DIVERSITY or GAY IN GHANA

For years I kept home truths at bay,

even tried to make out I was straight

too scared to tell the world I’m gay

I met an old friend in Accra one day,

only to find myself engaging with fate

(for years I kept home truths at bay)

We went to a bar, and stayed all day,

catching up, as you would with a mate,

too scared to tell the world I’m gay

I liked him more than I had dared say,

even envied pretty girls he used to date

(for years I kept home truths at bay)

That day, I let the pito have its way,

yet, close as I came to flirting with fate,

too scared to tell the world I'm gay

His knowing grin gave the game away,

our body language talking love, no hate;

for years I kept home truths at bay

too scared to tell the world I’m gay

Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

Note: My friend Graham is visiting Ghana in October. You may like some of his his videos over which I read poems: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCSdhLgPQOsng2Xz8n5m0ViQ  OR simply enter 'Roger Taber You Tube' in any browser. Unfortunately, I cannot accompany him as I have serious health problems, although, as always, I continue to look on the bright(er) side of life.

Finding Love, No Holds Barred

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

Regular readers will know that, while there is an autobiographical thread in many of my poems, just as many others have their origins in conversations I have enjoyed with various people in bars, on trains, even at bus stops. This poem takes me back to a delightful evening I once spent in the company of two young Catholics on holiday from Rome who were refreshingly unafraid to embrace God and each other…

Regular readers will also know that I am not a religious person; although raised a Christian, I found a sense of spirituality in nature that failed me in religion. At the same time, I respect anyone’s religious beliefs while refusing to believe that any God worthy of the name would hold a person’s sexuality against them, whatever their religion. Moreover, I reached this conclusion long before I realised or acknowledged (even to myself) that I am gay.

It saddens me greatly that, even in this 21^st Century, many gay people across the world feel obliged to choose between family, religion, and sexuality if only for appearances sake.

FINDING LOVE, NO HOLDS BARRED

At a fountain in the heart of Rome,

two people tossed two coins

for the same dream, neither expecting

their lives might yet change

for the better, override generations

of secrets and lies

At a fountain in the heart of Rome,

two people eagerly flirted

with the same dream if not believing

their hearts might yet shape it

the way of all good things, overriding

its secrets and lies

At a fountain in the heart of Rome,

two people engaged

with the same dream, hiding tears

for years of battling

to reconcile faith in a God of Love

with secrets and lies

At a fountain in the heart of Rome,

two people all but denied

the same dream, neither daring

to give desire its head,

acknowledge its passion, run a gamut

of secrets and lies

At a fountain in the heart of Rome,

two people sought hope

in ripples slowly but surely lending 

the same dream

graceful flight far above and beyond

any secrets and lies

At a fountain in the heart of Rome,

two people acknowledged

each other, visibly edging closer

to the same dream,

soaring with doves expressing despair

with secrets and lies

At a fountain in the heart of Rome,

two gay people began

a journey that would one day free them

to make their dream a reality

where no God of Love rejects anyone

for their sexuality

Copyright R. N. Taber 2015

Epiphany at the Cliffs of Time

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

Now, regular readers will know that, after gay relationships were decriminalised here in the UK in 1967, I used to wonder how I would ever find the strength and self-confidence to shrug off the shackles of my closet years. They were, after all, formative years.

I had realised I am gay when I was just 14 years-old (possibly, albeit subconsciously, even earlier) and there I was, nearly 22 and suddenly I was legal! I should have jumped out of that damn closet and let the world know how awful it had been in there! Instead, I prevaricated, and was in and out like a Jack-in-the-box until my mid-30s when a severe nervous breakdown may have taken me to some indescribable Hell and back, but saved the day. Somehow, I came through it all in one piece and eventually clawed my way back into mainstream life, seriously bruised both mentally and emotionally, but clear where my path lay.

Meanwhile, 30+ years on, in countries like Russia, Iran and many African countries like Nigeria, Uganda and the Cameroon, gay people are living in fear of imprisonment, torture, and death. Our hearts go out to them all and our hopes for a better, safer, kinder future. May their leaders bypass their egos and look deep within themselves to find and act upon a sense of humanity and justice sooner rather than later.

One day… perhaps, thanks to those who have the moral courage to stand up and speak out  for LGBT men and women worldwide...at any cost.

EPIPHANY AT THE CLIFFS OF TIME

At the end of my tether,
hope at its nadir,
closer and closer to free fall,
at the Cliffs of Time

I feel only an emptiness,
no sense of peace
on the knife edge of identity.
at the Cliffs of Time

Suddenly, the spell is broken,
(who has spoken?)
waves of words rushing me
at the Cliffs of Time

Now, a lively light's exposing
all a mind's supposing,
a sketchy, existential life-art,
at the Cliffs of Time

Sick despair, failure, self-pity,
but rearing shadows
calling me, pointing fingers
at the Cliffs of Time

Selfies, but sneering, goading
my sexual identity
among fickle clouds gathering
at the Cliffs of Time

Yet, above it all a voice urging
I fear not, the tide’s
for turning, clouds reinventing
the Cliffs of Time

Ah, but I know well that voice;
it is Choice, ready
to call any bluff that's reshaping 
the Cliffs of Time

Am I or am I not better placed
than flotsam and jetsam
answering only to a tide's whim
at the Cliffs of Time?

Crying, 'Yes!' I'll dare turn away
telling the world I’m gay,
having (finally) found my voice
at the Cliffs of Time

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

A Conspiracy of Faith OR Gay in Iran

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

While our hearts go out to the victims and survivors of the recent earthquake in Iran, let’s not lose sight of the fact that it is a very repressive regime. Gay people have been executed in Iran for their sexuality alone. There is still a long way to go before we are accepted for ourselves worldwide and everyone recognizes we have as valuable a contribution to make to society as anyone among the heterosexual majority.

I wrote today’s poem after a conversation with two Iranian students in a gay bar here in London. 

Tehran: Photo from the Internet

This poem is a villanelle.

A CONSPIRACY OF FAITH or GAY IN IRAN

We suffer so, my love and me,
never free from persecution
for our ‘sin’ of homosexuality

We flung a bottle in a friendly sea
taking news of revolution...
We suffer so, my love and me!

Prey to a subterranean bigotry
killing us with religion
for our ‘sin’ of homosexuality

Tortured exiles in a home country
blind to natural evolution...
We suffer so, my love and me!

Openly engaging with society,
an impossible proposition
for our ‘sin’ of homosexuality

Condemned by an ancient judiciary
(a bond slave to tradition);
We suffer so, my love and me, 
for our ‘sin’ of homosexuality
  
London, August 2012

Copyright R N. Taber 2012