H, Everyone, from London UK

Hi, Everyone, from London UK,

Sorry, no poem today as I am trying to load as many of my poems to a memory stick as I can, just in case the blog ever disappears.

In the past, UK poetry publishers have shown no interest in me because I make it clear that any published collection must include a gay section. My self-published collections proved popular, but the last one appeared in 2021' since then, I have been diagnosed with prostate cancer, had a bad fall that has left me with  mobility problems and have been having to cope while living on my own. I cope OK(ish), so no worries, but nothing gets easier as we grow older and I'm in my late 70's now.

As I have said on the blog before, in latter years, writing poetry has been as much by way of creative therapy than for pleasure; it helps me  manage thought processes and memory problems as a direct result of years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer. So, I feel a need to write what I can, while I can and keep my poems in a safe place in case any publishers eventually show any real interest once I have passed away.

No one has ever appreciated just how much my poetry means to me and, yet again, a BIG thank you to you all, dear readers, for encouraging me by viewing my poems and sending emails from time to time.

Reader H H asks how many views this blog has had in total since I started writing it up about ten years ago. Currently, blogger statistics show 213,149 views; for a poetry blog, this is VERY encouraging, so you can understand why continuing it is so important to an oldie like me, from both a psychological and health point of view. The gay poetry blog statistics show a total of 160, 987 views, again, very encouraging.

Feedback suggests that more LGBT viewers dip into both blogs these days and I like to think it is because they are coming round to the point of view that poetry is for everyone, has something to say to everyone, intent on voicing a perspective on which the reader is invited to consider his or her own take. Whatever, food for thought is important; sadly, the pace of life these days means fewer people can make time enough for even that. 

When I stared blogging, I had been warned that a gay poetry blog would be unlikely to attract many readers and I was unable to find anything similar online, so...G-AY in the Subject Field took to pc screens worldwide. My having been sexually inactive for some years now, it may have  lost its initial momentum, but feedback suggests LGBT readers appreciate the encouragement my poems try to offer. (I spent too many years in a lonely closet to want the same for anyone who is led to believe there is something shameful, even sinful about sexual/ gender identity; neither is a choice, but who we are. 

It is a tragedy of our times that some family members, friends and religious communities continue to be guided by many misleading stereotypes propagated by the less enlightened. 

Nor is the sense of spirituality I have always felt any the less for my being gay. Encouragingly, most young people are more prepared to take others as they find them, without prejudging them for what they may have heard on this or that grapevine. (I suspect political correctness means well, but has proven far less effective than intended;. You cannot effectively legislate for a person's perspectives on life and people; it simply creates closets for any that need to be aired, challenged and modified. 

As for poetry, whether people like a poem or not is less important than they should consider how and why they feel about what it it has to say to the voice in which the poem speaks. (As regular readers well know, I have always championed the right to agree to differ...] RT 😉 

We are barely into 2023, yet violent criminal acts on the streets and behind closed doors are hitting the headlines already .Let us hope that Peace, Love and Understanding will eventually prevail worldwide, the darker side of human nature notwithstanding....!

Oh, and on the subject if headlines, I have been asked what I think of Prince Harry's revelations in his book, Spare. Well, I have no interest in reading it, not least because it is unlikely that other members of the Royal Family will respond and there are always two sides to every story. So, to coin a popular phrase, "No comment." 😉

I am working on a new poem, but slowly as I am not too well and old age is catching up with me. No point in crying over spilt milk, though so, yes, I continue to do my best to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life... even though a fog sometimes.😉

Take care, folks, keep safe and stay positive,

Hopefully, back soon with a new poem,

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: This post also appears in my general poetry blog today.] RT

Hello, Everyone, from London UK

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

“Faith is a passionate intuition.” - William Wordsworth  

“Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase.” - Martin Luther King, Jr. 

“Faith is an oasis in the heart which will never be reached by the caravan of thinking.” - Khalil Gibran

“The belief that one's own view of reality is the only reality is the most dangerous of all delusions”. - Paul Watzlawick

Now, it is the day before Christmas wherever the birth of Jesus Christ is celebrated; a time, too, to reflect on just what any religious faith means to us, both personally and universally.

As regular readers will know, I consider myself a pantheist. Pantheists believe that God is nature.

Why do I think this way? I have no idea, except that I could never relate to a personified God, yet whenever I have engaged closely with nature, I have always experienced a sense of spirituality which I had always associated with religion, although religion had never given me access to the same experience; a very intimate experience, I should add.

No one person’s perspective on life, faith, whatever, will ever be quite the same, not least because we are all different.  That is not to say that one or other perspective is right or wrong, simply an integral part of who we are. 

Me, I find various religious dogma too prescriptive and often incompatible with my perspective on life as all-embracing, all-inclusive; no excluding anyone on the basis of gender, sexual identity, walk of life etc. Humanity thrives on our differences, differences we need to accept and respect. Religious leaders profess to agree, yet their dogma argues differently. Accordingly, many of their followers may argue differently too.

As regular readers will also be very aware, I am very much in favour of agreeing to differ in a spirit of peace and love, not the kind of divisiveness that causes, families to estrange, nations to declare war. <<wry bardic grin>>

Sadly, human nature is such that we often find ourselves caught on either side of various divides, that cannot or will not see where each is coming from, cannot or will not bring themselves to communicate and even try to understand and find common ground.

Human nature itself is complex, confusing, invariably expected to explain itself, when our actions cannot always be explained away; feelings are not necessarily the same as motives and do not lend themselves easily to the vocabulary of reason. From early years, we are taught that to understand ourselves and each other we need to be insightful as to what motivates, even justifies certain actions.  Yet, as the quotations above suggest, there are elements within all of us that even we, ourselves, are at pains to explain away.

Anyway, enough of my amateurish attempt to explain my deeper sentiments from which has evolved an all-inclusiveness that I try to inject into many of my poems. How far I succeed or not is up to the reader to decide.😉

It is Christmas Eve and, in the Spirit of Christmas, I want to thank you all for looking in on my blog posts and poems, it means a lot to me.

All that remains, for now, is to wish you all safe, well and hopeful always. Sadly, the ways of the world and human nature are such that this is not always the case. Even so, we can but keep looking on the bright(er) side of life and do our best to spread happiness, comfort and joy along the way; rarely easy, yet we can but try.

Whether we celebrate Christmas or not (I don’t) may the spirit of Christmas - one of hope, peace and kindness - be with us all.

Oh, and yes, I am working on a new poem, so do drop by again soon.

Take care, folks, whoever and wherever you are.

Hugs,

Roger

PS Many thanks to those readers who take the trouble to point out any print or spelling errors in some of my poems; I always take note, re-read the poem as it appears on the screen and make any necessary amendments.

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

Bells, Messaging the Spirit of Christmas

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

“Christmas… is love in action. Every time we love, every time we give, it's Christmas.” - Dale Evans

“If there are occasions when my grape turned into a raisin and my joy bell lost its resonance, please forgive me. Charge it to my head and not to my heart.” - Jesse Jackson

“Oh, Christmas isn't just a day, it's a frame of mind.” – ‘Kris Kringle’ in the movie, Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

“I will honour Christmas in my heart, and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present, and the Future. The Spirits of all Three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons that they teach.” - ‘Scrooge’ in Stave 4 of  A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens

“The temple bell stops but I still hear the sound coming out of the flowers.” - Matsuo Basho

Reader C. C. who lives in East London, has asked for "...a Christmas poem that gay and other LBT readers, especially any rejected by family and peers for our sexual identity - seen as an abuse against certain cultural ideals - can relate to, while continuing to identify with a universal  'spirit' of Christmas, regardless of cultural demands."

Well, C.C.I have done my best and can but hope you are able to relate to the poem-post below and at least some of the quotations above.

During my first winter term at Junior School, (some 70 years ago…oo-err!) a teacher asked what we most enjoy at Christmas. “Presents, sir!", more than half the class yelled. One boy simply put his hand up. When the teacher indicated for him to speak, he said, “I enjoy it because people are much nicer and kinder.” “A good point,” said the teacher with feeling, “I daresay many people would agree with you about other religious festivals as well…” He then changed the subject, but I wasn’t the only one left reflecting on his words… and continue to do so. 😉 

As regular readers know, I became as disillusioned with most religious leaders and world religions as with most  politicians and world politics generally over the years, and now think of myself as a Pantheist. 

Now, having written and enjoyed reading poetry for as long as I can remember, I have tried to write a Poem for Christmas that reflects the common spirit of world religions, an all-embracing inclusiveness often found wanting in the interpretation of various dogma associated with them. And, no, I do not exclude Christianity. 

Although I respect anyone’s religious Beliefs, I reserve the right (as regular readers will also know) to agree to differ…😉

BELLS, MESSAGING THE SPIRIT OF CHRISTMAS

Bells! Ringing out the same message
over centuries of fear
and pain, ringing out yet again
to remind the world
of such love and peace for all souls
striving, even fighting 
for peace of mind, but wishful thinking 
among any made to suffer hate and hypocrisy
poisoning a common humanity

They know, the bells, and feel our pain
as and when we struggle
to rise above it all, find peace and love
within each other,
endeavour to let the world know, for all 
its many differences,
that 'Love rules OK' and will find a way
to make its presence plainly and believably told,
no LGBT folks, left out in the cold

Hear the joyful sound of Christmas bells,
sending a message 
of peace, hope, love and goodwill 
to a common humanity,
men, women and children, no exceptions
for gender, ethnicity 
or sexual identity, celebrating heart-and-soul
of You-Me-Us by drawing on its multiple voices,
addressing the Spirit of Christmas

It's an all-inclusive You-Me-Us, a new generation,
acknowledging the kinder side of being human

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

[Note: The greater part of this post-poem also appears on my general poetry blog today.] RT

Lines on the Politics of Personal Space

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

“Friendship improves happiness and abates misery by the doubling of our joy and the dividing of out grief.” Marcus Tullius Cicero

 “We are all different. There is no such thing as a standard or run-of-the-mill human being, but we share the same human spirit.” – Stephen Hawking

“As an anthropologist, I believe strongly in our common humanity. We can rise above the tribal divisions that have caused so much anguish and real damage in the past.” - Alice Roberts

“Believe that life is worth living and your belief will help create the fact”.  -William James

Again, not a gay-specific post-poem today, but no apologies for that; it also appears on my general blog. Many people, especially LGBT + folks, including yours truly, have been very disturbed and upset by the banning of rainbow armbands on the pitch during the World Cup in Qatar in support of diversity  and Human Rights; even fans wearing similarly supportive headgear have been told to remove it before entering the ground. Even so,  this action by the authorities - including and backed by FIFA - has possibly brought the subject  even more to the fore of people's minds across the world than was intended; an own goal, so to speak, by Qatar.

Oh, and one cannot help but admire and applaud the Iranian football  team's bravery for refusing to sing their national anthem by way of making a similar protest.. Hopefully, they will not be subjected to abuse by the Iranian regime on their return home...

Now, In many ways, today’s poem-post continues yesterday’s theme/s. As regular readers will know, and some share the sentiment, growing old(er) can be heavy going at any age; either the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak or circumstances cause us to lose heart altogether and depression sets in. Somehow, we have to find our own way to rise above certain everyday ups and downs that challenge us all. (No, never easy, but… we have a choice?)

I recently had a bath lift installed after being unable to get out of the bath for a good thirty minutes some weeks ago, due to mobility problems. 😀 A walk-in shower might have been suitable for some, but not someone like myself who needs to be extra careful not to get water in my ears due to perforated eardrums. After being trapped that first time, I did devise a strategy for getting in and out of the bath, but involved a degree of acrobatics that was an accident waiting to happen. Now I feel safer. 

Two close friends were a huge help and supervised my first attempts. They helped boost my patience and self-confidence to the extent that today I managed my first unsupervised bath, using the lift with no one around to help even if I needed it. Sounds simple enough, I know, but nothing is simple once years of hormone therapy for prostate cancer have messed with your thought processes. Yes, I experienced a few teething problems today, but at least I will find the next time I take a bath, a less scary and more relaxing experience.

We all need help sometimes, just as we all need to find our own pace for doing whatever, despite the pace of modern life threatening to leave us behind for one reason or another. 

Well, let it threaten; the human spirit is not easily put down… not for long, anyway, despite any temporary put-downs…

LINES ON THE POLITICS OF PERSONAL SPACE

Life is making the most of its seasons,
growing older, hopefully wiser to the tricks
time so loves to play on us all,
mind-body-spirit continuing to engage 
with an enduring heart-and-soul, 
endeavouring to keep us on the right track,
no matter such ways of a world
that would have us playing deaf, blind and dumb 
to the Politics of Outcome

It’s a tried and tested mind-body-spirit
needs to keep drawing on the native patience
at its command, constantly encouraging us
all to stay true to an evergreen heart-and-soul
urging we engage with patience, 
such patience as will see us through tough times,
head held high, resolutely refusing 
to be cowed by such ways of the world as see many
feeling defeated and empty

The world may well have its reasons,
temptations, and calls to You-Me-Us to comply,
though heart-and-soul cries out
to defy, ignore, turn a deaf ear, no matter
any alternative desires;
wiser by far to steer through troubles and strife,
follow the road map our senses
assure us will lead to far kinder, better times in store,
well worth waiting, working for...

Such is the gift of heart-and-soul, to a shared humanity,
if but the patience to devise a winning strategy

Copyright R.N. Taber, 2022

Hello, everyone, from London UK

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

"Peace cannot be achieved through violence; it can only be attained through understanding". Ralph Waldo Emerson

“It is far better to endure patiently a smart which nobody feels but yourself than to commit a hasty action whose evil consequences will extend to all connected with you.” - ― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

“And sure enough, even waiting will end...if you can just wait long enough.” ― William Faulkner

"Never cut a tree down in the wintertime. Never make a negative decision in the low time. Never make your most important decisions when you are in your worst moods. Wait. Be patient. The storm will pass. The spring will come." - Robert H. Schuller

Hi, folks,

Yet again, I am working on a new poem; the spirit is as willing as ever, but it is a grim looking morning outside and inspiration is not yet quite ready to compensate for it. 😉

A bad night with the prostate cancer hasn't helped; even though it was not diagnosed as aggressive back in 2012, I was not prepared for years of broken sleep. Even so, I continue to feel encouraged and inspired by so many people across the world having to endure far worse circumstances then yours truly, not least the homeless and dying.

Many years ago, at school, I studied Shakespeare's King Lear for A-level GCE Exam; I was only studying two subjects, the other one was French, and I needed to pass both to go to Library Schools - for which I had been conditionally accepted. I failed the French exam, not once, but twice because my oral was not up to scratch. I was devastated and and left school in 1964 with no clear idea of what the future had in store for me. In those days, relatively few people understood homosexuality and were even less tolerant of LGBT+ folks than many still are.

It was King Lear that came to my rescue. Of all the wonderful quotes to be found in Shakespearean texts, perhaps the least likely, but one that has seen me through some tough times all my life, has been from Act 2 where Lear, raging against the cruelties of daughters, Goneril and Regan, cries:

"You heavens, give me that patience, patience, I need...!"

Now, I am a Sagittarian and it would take me another 12 years to get a university degree  and eventually qualify as a graduate chartered librarian, during which time, I needed to draw on far more patience than comes naturally to anyone born under a fire sign...

Generally speaking, attitudes towards LGBT+ folks then left much to be desired and, for a variety of reasons, I stayed in a dark, lonely closet for more years than I care to remember. Slowly but surely, attitudes are changing as more people begin to appreciate that sexual identity is not a matter of choice. 

As I have said on previous posts, one of the greater tragedies of modern life is that many world societies and religions have no understanding of the LGBT+ mindset; in my case, it was this that led to a nervous breakdown in the late 1970'swhich would ,in turn, lead to lead to my coming 'out' and starting the gay poetry blog.

Oh, but I do indeed owe King Lear, more than I could have dreamed or hoped for way back in my schooldays...!  wry bardic grin

So, too ,'new' reader, K W, who dismisses my regular use of quotations prior to the main body of my poetry-posts as "a load of literary b- shit" may understand why we must agree to differ...?

Bye, for now, dear readers, and I hope to be back with another poem very soon.

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: this post also appears on my gay poetry blog today.] RT

A Life in the Day of Mind-Body-Spirit

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

“Make the most of your regrets; Never smother your sorrow, but tend and cherish it ’til it comes to have a separate and integral interest. To regret deeply is to live afresh.” ~ Henry David Thoreau

“Age has no reality except in the physical world. The essence of a human being is resistant to the passage of time. Our inner lives are eternal, which is to say that our spirits remain as youthful and vigorous as when we were in full bloom. Think of love as a state of grace, not the means to anything, but the alpha and omega. An end in itself.” – Gabriel García Márquez  

“Look closely and you will see almost everyone carrying bags of cement on their shoulders. That’s why it takes courage to get out of bed in the morning and climb into the day.” ~ Edward Hirsch

“Happiness quite unshared can scarcely be called happiness; it has no taste.” – Charlotte Bronte

Again, not a gay-specific poem today but all we LGBT+ folks grow old, like anyone else, so I hope you will enjoy the post-poem.

The poem also appears on my general poetry blog today. Contrary to the way some straight folks and religious organizations appear to think of us, we are not a species apart, but as  much a part of a common humanity as anyone else. wry bardic grin

Sexual identity is not a choice, after all, nor is it a sin, but an essential part of who we are. Certain societies across the world are learning to accept us, especially among young, more open-minded people; others, in my opinion, have had there minds closed by various religious dogma and misleading stereotypes, forcing many LGBT folks to remain 'closet' all their lives.

Now, as each day passes and I grow old, I am often hard pressed to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. I so miss being young, fit, able to make plans and feel confident that I will be well enough to not only carry them through, but also enjoy and learn from them. I miss having friends around for cosy chats and a laugh; many have moved away now and mobility problems make travelling difficult.

Ah, corny though it may sound, the human spirit really can keep us young at heart and soul, if only we will let it, Rarely easy. We can but try, even if, as life itself invariably proves, it’s a case of ‘win some, lose some…’

A LIFE IN THE DAY OF MIND-BODY-SPIRIT

There are times in any life
when the flesh is weak, but the spirit
remains as strong as ever,
whatever its reason or season, be it
a spring, summer,
autumn or winter of mind-body-spirit;
it perseveres, encouraged
by a heart-and-soul, wiser beyond its years
to sources of human tears

There are times in any life
when waking after a poor night’s sleep
leaves the body too weary
to even raise a smile at dawn’s rising
above early mist and cloud,
trying to force its way to half-open eyes
and ears, through drapes
at windows obscuring Everyman’s perception
of life, love, regeneration…

Finally, though, mind and body
takes its cue from that which gives it form
and a sense of stability
from birth to death, whatever in-betweens
may lie in wait, ready to pounce
and test us to limits sure to weigh heavy
on any host body, 
all the love attending it beseeching its survival
of Humanity’s heart-and soul

Alas, not every ear that hears,
can comply with every caller’s bidding;
no call, though, is ever in vain,
no matter if the human outcome be loss
and pain, in whatever form;
living, partly living, or consigned to memory’s
vault  of eternal spring,
there remain such ways for all humanity to choose,
every which way, then…loose?

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

[Note: Apologies for not adding many gay-specific poem tot he blog these days, but = as regular readers well know - I have been sexually inactive for some years, since starting hormone therapy for my prostate cancer; I can't even get a hard-on these days. Do explore the archives, though, and I am delighted that feedback suggests more LGBT readers are also dipping into my general poetry blog as well now. Poetry is, after all,  for everyone and far more all-inclusive than some societies across the world where others like us are growing up - as I did in the 1950's - in a climate of fear due to the propagation of certain religious dogma and misleading stereotypes.] RT

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

Sexuality, all Caged Up and Demanding O-U-T

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

This is not a new post but one I deleted from my general blog after receiving several troll-type emails. I usually ignore these, but friends advised me to post it on my gay-interest blog instead while continuing to link to it from to it from my Google + site as previously. Then I though, why should I? So I have re-posted it on my general blog. At the same time, friends are probably right in suggesting it will be of more interest to gay readers...

Now, we talk about 'blind' instinct, but there is a native instinct that know us better than we know ourselves, and it is anything but blind; it has a clearer sense of what to do in situations where any brooding, thinking self hasn't a clue.

In February 1969, I sailed for Australia (as a would-be migrant) on the SS Southern Cross from Liverpool. While it was a huge mistake in many ways, it was also one of my better decisions.

In short, I was running away from the UK - and a family that had no idea of how much of a psychological mess I was in or of share their of blame for it - rather than going to Australia. 

Gay relationships ‘between consenting adults’ had been decriminalised in 1967  but it would be many years before society as a whole began to accept us, if grudgingly. I had left school five years earlier but saw myself as having no career prospects and was still a long way from becoming truly reconciled with my sexual identity. Apart from a growing sense of isolation, I felt hurt and angry. Significant though sexual identity may be, it is but a part of a greater whole. (Why should the greater part of me be made to feel it needs to apologise for what, after all, is no one else's damn business?)

While I will always have a great affection for Australia and the people I met there, I arrived with neither enough money nor qualifications to fulfill my dream, even in the longer term. During the six-weeks crossing, however, I’d had plenty of time to think and reflect on my motives. I found myself homing in on home truths that appalled me. Was I really such a coward?

So, yes, on the face of it, Australia was a disaster but I returned to the UK not (quite) with tail between legs but as different person, more self-confident than I had ever felt before and determined to shape my life in a positive way. In spite of a severe nervous breakdown in my 30’s, I like to think that, in general, I have succeeded.  (I have battled with depression all my life but any gay angst has only ever been part of the emotional equation albeit a vital one.)

It is up to all of us - gay or straight - to make the best of things, not the worst, and be positive about ourselves, each other and life in general even when the immediate future may be looking on the bleak side. That’s when the human condition comes into its own, now a pussycat, now a roaring lion. Mind you, everyone has lapses of self-confidence in self and in humanity from time to time, including me.

If the journey to Australia nearly 50 years ago was a nightmare, my stay there was an epiphany. My return to the UK marked the kind of new beginning the poet in me had been yearning for without any real sense of either the what or the how, only the why. Moreover, I no longer felt that gay-interest poetry is something for which I should feel any need to apologise; a poem is a poem is a poem just as a person is a person is a person ... regardless of gender and sexuality. 

Yes, it was a long way to go to find myself, true, but well worth it ...

SEXUALITY, ALL CAGED UP AND DEMANDING O-U-T 

Mouth gone dry, sweat
soaking the brow;
I am left wondering
why it should attack now,
this animal lust
for freedom, open spaces
far, far, away from city faces
and grubby streets

Mouth gone dry, sweat
soaking the brow;
I am left wondering why
it should strike now,
this hunger for adventure,
need to prove something
although what or to whom
remains to be seen

Mouth gone dry, sweat
soaking the brow;
I am left feeling excited
if scared of a caving in
rather than a pressing ahead
with some heady fiction 
well aware its return thread
so easily broken

Looking to play the hero
or merely wishing
to please myself for once
instead of always
putting head before heart,
doing the ‘right thing’
but right for whom after
all's said and done?

Rage, burning, a life-long
learning in flames;
passion, a feisty yearning
to escape this caged-up 
non-life, a Here-and-Now
parody of a lion’s den
where the mouth gone dry,
sweat soaking the brow

Who is it, this other 'Me'
writing up emotions
half killing me to admit
in these early hours
where conscience seeks
respite in its humanity
as if its poetry were indeed
a match for its sword?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2017

[Note: The last stanza has since been added to the original version of this poem that first appeared under the title, ‘A Poet’s Diary’ in  The Third Eye by R. N. Taber Assembly Books, 2004; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

Ode to My Love

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

Regular readers may recall how my partner died many years ago after only a short time together. As it turned out, I never met anyone else with whom to share my life. Even so, I have some good friends and have met some wonderful people whose life stories – happy and sad alike - have inspired many of my poems.

Sometimes people ask me how I can face growing old alone. Well, yes, I live alone but that does not mean I am alone. I have plenty of company, not least my poems.  Besides, love, in all its shapes and forms, sustains and inspires me just it has always done, especially whenever I am feeling low or start feeling sorry for myself for whatever reason.  Friends, places, nature, they haunt my memory and invariably come to my rescue to help me rise above whatever may be troubling me at the time.

My long-ago love is never far from my thoughts and our love continues to guide me through the complex maze we call life. He brought out the best in me and it is that which prevents me dwelling on mistakes, letting wishful thinking distort all the Here and Now has to offer me and (hopefully) I, it.

The great thing about love is that it doesn't discriminate against anyone for their colour, creed, sex or sexuality. Sadly, many human beings do, resulting in lovers the world over having to resort to subterfuge, sometimes being rejected by disapproving family and friends on grounds of certain socio-cultural-religious-principles that love (quite rightly) does not recognise.

Time and again, life calls on us to learn and move on from our experiences, good and bad. We can but do our best. At the same time - as I have said many times on the blogs, and doubtless  will again - it is always worth remembering that moving on doesn’t mean leaving anyone behind, especially those we have loved.

ODE TO MY LOVE

I so love you for a smile on your lips, 

the laughter in your eyes, the way 

your hair blows in a summer breeze,

how tears fall like a gentle rain

from heaven whenever we watch 

soap television

I so love you for a song in your heart, 

how it echoes all around, 

sweeter sound even than skylark 

or nightingale, lifting my soul 

on wings of a prayer given thanks

for your being here

I so love how you flare like a candle 

in the wind whenever 

we quarrel, making up before 

the day closes, recharging 

our bodies, the more joy and power 

to each other

I so love how you shoulder hardship,

brave and true, my hero;

though folks tread roughly

on our dreams

you’ll keep us safe, hold my hand, 

quick to reassure

Who could ask for more...?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002; 2016

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appeared under the title ‘Ode to my Love’ in First Person Plural by R N Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Getting on with Love

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

More than once I have heard those among the less enlightened heterosexual majority sneer that gay people don’t know the meaning of love. Such stupid, ignorant comments do not merit a response except, perhaps, in a poem…

Readers may be interested to know that this villanelle was inspired by a fascinating and very uplifting conversation with two gay ex-servicemen in their 50's at London bar one evening.

Photo taken from the Internet

GETTING ON WITH LOVE

Getting on with life, two gay men

(in a world living with Terror)

targeted for abuse, time and again

Nothing to lose, everything to gain

(in world that’s a weeping sore);

getting on with love, two gay men

Getting on with life, two gay men

(for knocking at freedom's door)

targeted for abuse, time and again

World, in the grip of blind religion

(floods of fear, a living nightmare);

getting on with love, two gay men

Played a part rescuing Afghanistan

from the Taliban’s hold on power,

targeted for abuse, time and again

Pray, we see its peacemakers win

on a planet left turning on Terror;

getting on with love, two gay men,

targeted for abuse, time and again

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009; 2016

Who Upsets the Applecart gets to Calm the Horse

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

It is one of many modern tragedies that - in spite of pro-gay legislation in some countries (or at least the lack of any anti-gay legislation) many societies continue to pay but lip service to various Human Rights. My arthritis and prostate cancer mean that I don't socialise half as much as I used to, but as late as 2016, I met a couple  who came to London to live and work because "In the (English) village  we come from, gays are considered perverts."

Regular readers will know that I had acknowledged to myself that I am gay by the time I was 14 years-old. In those days (late 1950's) same sex relationships were a taboo. Homosexuality was considered a sin, an abomination. (Socio-cultural-religious bigots among us still do, of course.)

Imagine the effect of that on a vulnerable teenager … i

In my case, it led to my having a nasty nervous breakdown  in my early 30's. Ironically, it turned out to be a positive turning point in my life. although it would be a few more years yet before I stopped being a scared jack-in-the-box and declared my sexuality to one and all.

Gay people are not the only star-crossed lovers around the world, of course; lovers from different cultures, religious and  even social standing  continue to be ostracised by some family and friends.

Regarding homosexuality, education has to be the key to dispelling the many misleading and often offensive stereotypes that continue to attach themselves to same sex lovers worldwide (among other subjects many of us prefer to avoid) BUT what schools (and teachers) are willing to discuss sex and sexuality openly, sensitively and honestly with their classes? I can’t see many if any Faith schools obliging - whether Muslim, C of E, Catholic, whatever ... well, can you?

This poem is a villanelle.

WHO UPSETS THE APPLECART GETS TO CALM THE HORSE

Our conjoined head-heart,

conceived with due love and care,
upsetting whose apple cart?

Suspect from the very start

by such 'betters' as hadn't any idea;  

our conjoined, head-heart

Politics playing it smart,

promising change, logistics unclear,
upsetting whose apple cart?

No sweet a fruit or as tart

than this gay love we can but share;

our conjoined head-heart

Defying rhetoric's darker art

(equal even to Medusa's stony stare;)
upsetting whose apple cart?

Target for a bigot's poison dart

(as sure to fly any time as anywhere);

our conjoined, head-heart,

upsetting whose apple cart?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Under Puerto Rican Skies (Where the Going can [Still] be Tough)

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

[Update: Oct 1 2010]: Devastated by Hurricane Maria, Puerto Rica continues to suffer, the island without power and shortages of food and other essentials, all made worse by an escalating debt crisis. Our  our hearts go out to all Puerto Ricans, and we should all help in any way we can. [RT]

A warm welcome to new readers visiting my Google Plus site. In case you wondered, the reason I regularly add (and remove) historical as well as new posts/poems in in response to requests from regular readers of my gay and general blogs who asked for a shortcut to browsing the many poems there. I never post comments, but feel free to email me any time. (I never take offence, either, and don’t expect everyone to like everything I like or agree with everything I say.) I have even met up with some readers visiting London which is always fun. 

Recently, I got chatting to a Puerto Rican gay man (in a bar) and asked if gay relationships were illegal in Puerto Rico. ‘Not illegal, no,’ he said wryly, ‘but tough. Believe me, it takes a lot of courage to be openly gay where I come from…’ He proceeded to tell me how he met his (male) partner, and - as my conversations with complete strangers (invariably in bars) often do - it inspired a poem. [NB I am a social, not heavy drinker.]

As it happens, the young man was from Puerto Rico, but could just as easily have been from anywhere that (in part if not predominantly) continues to think the worst of us gay people simply for the sexual identity with which we were born.

San Juan - Photo from the Internet

UNDER PUERTO RICAN SKIES (WHERE THE GOING CAN [STILL] BE TOUGH)

We met in pouring rain, 
waiting for a bus that never came,
and in my mind’s eye
we made love then and there,
the rain washing us clean,
passers-by pausing now and then
to observe (askance)
raindrops performing a pretty dance
on bodies joined as one,
a watery sun, grinning, oh, so wryly,
world applauding shyly,
but afraid to let on openly for fear
of powers-that-be
likely to err on the side of bigotry
if only for the sake
of the heterosexual (voting) majority,
disapproving for sure,
and (after all) keeping them in power
so can’t afford to offend,
better to let hypocrisy have its way
in the end…

Walked home in the rain,
no tears for the bus that never came,
got to know him 
well enough to guess my inner eye
was not deceiving me
nor would he want to be leaving me
at my front door,
expecting (for sure) to be invited inside
where we’d not need
to hide our deepest feelings any more,
but let them run free
of an ages-old socio-cultural history 
of homosexuality left unsaid,
its heroes left for dead or in misery
for a life they dare not lead
among heterosexuals whose ignorance
forestalls real progress
among those giving religion priority,
interpreting its dogma
to stigmatise, demonize, dehumanize
LGBT identity

Sometimes I hear rain
singing about a bus that never came
and two strangers
becoming so much more than friends
for trusting inner eyes
to senses honed on years of loneliness
and pain for hiding away,
not for any shame of sexual identity,
but fear of persecution
by those fiercely protective of a history
of socio-cultural-religious
conventions boasting the best intentions 
while doing their worst
by good men and women (everywhere)
for refusing to see
how no one socio-cultural-religious ethic
has a monopoly
on a natural born responsibility to do right
by humanity


Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Late Arrival on Cloud Nine

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

In mythology, Pygmalion was a sculptor who fell in love with a statue he had carved. Yes, well, we can do better than that...can't we?

Sometimes, it seems dreams can only ever be just...well, dreams... then love comes along and sees to it that life takes a turn for the better regardless of our colour, creed, sex, sexuality. Love, of course, takes many forms and lovers don't have a monopoly. Even so, the joys of being in love with someone who reciprocates can never be overstated.

Whatever, Carpe Diem, seize the day!

 LATE ARRIVAL ON CLOUD NINE 

I was gazing at the sky,

creating day-dreams out of clouds

so far, far, above,

friendly faces mouthing my secrets

telling the world I’m in love

and passing birds flapping wings

as if to approve,

reassuring me I have nothing at all

to prove to anyone

that I am any less of a man or person

for loving another,

yet as I looked away, sipped my tea,

I despaired of loving someone

so far, far, above me in every way,

has no idea I’m gay

In the shiny steel table top

I could still see the sky, day-dreams

determined to stay,

but a fingertip away, so near yet so far,

as you were to me

only an hour ago when we chatted

over a coffee, laughing

and joking about, well, no matter what

since just the sound

of your voice, the light in your eyes,

the turn of your smile

left me reaching for the sky, heart

like the wings of a bird,

beating, oh, so madly for trying to say,

I love you and I’m gay

I half rose and made to leave

my day-dreams behind, pay the bill,

get real…

when a distant roll of thunder took me

by surprise, and I sat down

just as it began to rain, and I had no mac,

wearing a tee shirt

and jeans since the day had started fine,

no reason to suspect

a storm, so I rose again to take shelter

in the café

when I felt a tap on my right shoulder,

turned to find you there,

an, oh, so queer expression on your face

as you moved in for a kiss

I’d had no idea you had guessed

my day-dreaming of our being lovers

all the time,

waiting for me to share the, come clean

about my feelings

instead of sculpting them with clouds

sharing with the birds,

winging to, oh, so far, far-away places,

where the only faces

I ever saw were yours, its shy smile

just like the one

you gave me just before you kissed me

in the pouring rain

and I kissed you back, no need to say

I love you and I’m gay

Copyright R. N. Taber 2016

Macho-In-Crowd Taboo

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

I just love it when people get in touch with feel-good stories. Invariably, they inspire me to write a poem. It doesn’t even matter if readers think it’s a good poem, a bad poem or even a corny poem. If just one person can not only relate to it but finish reading it feeling GOOD about themselves, and perhaps a more kindly disposed towards that weirdly unpredictable phenomenon we call human nature, it has been a poem worth the writing.

This poem was originally written especially for ‘Roy’ and ‘Davis’ who are out to family, friends and work colleagues and ‘everyone accepts us without a hint of the hostility we were expecting.’ True to say, life doesn’t always work out like that, but isn’t it just so wonderful when it does? They asked if I could write a poem for them. How could I refuse?

In seventy-six countries, gay relationships remain illegal; in at least five, it is punishable by death. Their governments and secret ‘religious’ police (as in Iran) should be thoroughly ashamed, especially the latter who are a disgrace to their religion. Every human being is different; those differences don’t make us different, only human, and that applies to sexual as well as social/cultural/religious/identity.

Those clerics - from various religions - who insist that LGBT issues are incompatible with religious principles are a disgrace to that religion. Religion does not have a monopoly on spirituality. Even so, no one should be made to feel they must choose between their sexuality and religion. [How does living a lie conform to any religious principles?]

Here’s wishing all those gay boys and girls, men and women around the world who cannot or will not take a chance on truth – for whatever reason – much love and happiness in their lives anyway.

Yes, yes, I have said all this before on the blogs, but as my dear mother used to say, if something is worth saying it is worth repeating.

A teacher at my secondary school once commented along the lines that we should never assume the worst although it does no harm to be prepared for it. That was over 50 years ago, and I have since learned the hard way that it is a sound principle by which to live.

Some secrets were just never meant to be kept. For example, not all gay men are screaming queens so At the same time, not all gay men so why even mention sexuality unless the subject comes up? A straight person does not introduce himself or herself as 'Hello, I'm ---- , 'm straight' so why should it be any different if you're gay?

Oh, and by the way, people are always asking how much autobiography I weave into my poems. Ah, well, that’s for me to know and you to wonder…

MACHO-IN-CROWD TABOO

I hungered for your body,

and could tell you wanted mine,

the way you’d catch my eye,

throw me an, oh, so wicked smile

when you thought no one else

was looking, trying to catch me out,

put it on the grapevine

that the rumours were true

about me and you

I longed to feel your lips

on mine, hands tearing off my clothes

while mine played copycat

with your quick, fever pitch fingers,

though so far we had only

made love in each other’s heads,

exchanging glances across

this office, that cafe, a bar popular

with hot-blooded hets

Oh, but our in-crowd

wasn’t really us, hadn’t been since

you surprised me with a kiss,

swore it was for a dare, and I might

have believed you

but for the queerest look on your face

that gave the game away,

suggesting some dreams come true

and you, too, are gay

We made love one night

in a cramped single bed at your place

(did we care?) finally resolved

to kill the lie, hold our heads high,

tell the world we’re in love,

reason with family, friends, colleagues,

and anyone else uncomfortable

with the fact that falling in love equally

applies to gay people

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2011; 2016

Vice Versa OR G-A-Y, At the Cutting Edge of Reason

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

I sometimes receive emails from gay people (and their parents) who complain that I over simplify the act of ‘coming out’ as an openly gay boy, girl, man or woman. Apologies for that, but it is not the impression I try to give. On the contrary, I appreciate only too well how hard it can be for some gay people to be openly gay, especially if they happen to be living in a gay-unfriendly environment.

The first and (in my view) the most important step is that gay people should come ‘out’ to themselves. How they live their lives after that is up to them; that’s where choice comes into the equation. We do not choose to be gay, nature made us this way, but we do have to choose what paths we follow in life once we have acknowledged our sexuality to ourselves.

Gay, lesbian, transgender, bisexual or heterosexual, we all need to come to terms with the multi-facets of human nature and the human condition as it relates to us on a personal level and makes us who we are; once we acknowledge these and bring them together in mind, body and spirit, then and only then are we in a position to choose to make more or less of the opportunity to make more or less of our lives…as we are, not as others would perhaps have us be.

As I have said on the blogs so many times, our differences do not make us different, only human. While it may not always be easy to get other people to see that,  it has been my experience that life becomes a whole lot liveable once we see it for ourselves.

VICE VERSA or G-A-Y, AT THE CUTTING EDGE OF REASON

Told, a devil in me,
all but sold on the idea of my sexuality
as a travesty of morality;
cold, this body for want of intimacy,
grown old before its time, a fragile mind
at the cutting edge of reason

Conventions taunting me,
all but convincing me I entertain a parody
of humanity;
questions haunting me,
demanding of sense and sensibility
a lasting reconciliation

At odds with family
and friends, raging against a raw obstinacy
(all they ever see…);
a frantic  spirit in me
demanding the human right to be free
to be as I am, no one else

Time, applauding me
for going my own way, and purposefully
though remarked foolishly
by those who cannot (or will not) see
life is love,  and vice versa

Copyright R. N. Taber 2015

Your Place or Mine...?

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

As regular readers worldwide will know, I’ve been living with prostate cancer for 5+ years now and am doing OK. Hormone therapy continues to keep my PSA low and the cancer at bay. However, I will be 70 this year and time is not on my side.

One of these days (hopefully not for a good while yet) the Grim Reaper will pay a visit, and my blogs will eventually disappear from the Internet.  Now, the blogs are the only record of my revised poems as well as many others that have not been published and are not included in my collections. I am considering publishing them as e-books to Kindle Direct Publishing. If any blog readers think they might be interested in buying (inexpensive) e-editions, please let me know as the degree of response will determine whether or not I proceed. I would have to open a separate bank account and if the chances of at least breaking even financially are not looking too good, there is no point.

In the past, I have self-published my poetry because no publishers were interested in my gay-interest material which I have always insisted on including. [Why should p[poetry on a gay theme be seen as something quite separate from poetry on any other major theme?) Yes, I have about broken even but, no, I will not be publishing any more print editions.

Should I feel sufficiently encouraged to go ahead, I may well try and publish the serialized novels on my fiction blog to KDP as well. [Incidentally I am still working on Mamelon 2.]:

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

I don’t allow comments on the blogs because too many people flood blogs with irrelevant, even silly comments, but if you would like to express support, please email me:

rogertab@aol.com

A reader recently emailed me in Russian and the translation button would not work. Can he or she please try again as I will always read and respond to emails.

Meanwhile…

For the unattached, cruising bars can be fun, and it can also be the kind of devastating if not drunken experience likely to send a person’s self-esteem into free fall.

The trick is to never stop believing in happy endings whatever happens...or doesn’t happen, as the case may well be.

YOUR PLACE OR MINE…?

I was in awe of his beauty,

sure he’d want  nothing to do with me

so tried my luck elsewhere

Stood beside him at the bar,

bought him a beer, but he turned his back

(someone else’s luck)

A tipsy queen chatted me up,

followed my line of vision, raised eyebrows

shooting me down

In vain, I tried to block us out

of mind and spirit, self-denial no match

for a body in flames

Couldn’t keep away from him;

white singlet, shorts, a body to die for,

but always busy flirting

No one else firing my fantasies

or even a make-do ‘bird in the hand’ in sight,

just slaves to stereotype

Walked home that lonely night,

too preoccupied with wishful thinking to hear

footsteps catching up with me

Same hair, eyes, lips, body to die for,

but an altogether different, almost shy persona

quietly, earnestly, asking me…

‘Your place or mine…?’

Copyright R. N. Taber 2013