Shades of Grey

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

“Modern man talks of a battle with nature, forgetting that, if he won the battle, he would find himself on the losing side.” - E. F. Schumacher

“One of the first conditions of happiness is that the link between Man and Nature shall not be broken.” - Leo Tolstoy 

“The best friend on earth of man is the tree: When we use the tree respectfully and economically, we have one of the greatest resources of the earth.”- Frank Lloyd Wright

“Nature's music is never over; her silences are pauses, not conclusions.” - Mary Webb

Now, tomorrow will see us mark the end of 2022, each in our own way.  Across the world, people will be coming together to celebrate New Year’s Eve; a veritable feast of music, dance, relief at having survived another year and hope that the next will, indeed, be a happy one.  

We can, each and every one of us, only do our best to see our hopes fulfilled, subject though all of us are to circumstances beyond our control. All the more reason though, surely, to enjoy the Here-and Now, let it fill our lives with bright colours and inspiring sounds which, though they fade, even die, they, and the person they encouraged us to be, live on in every mind-body-spirit, heart-and-soul, they ever touched.

Oh, and again, many thanks for dropping by, much appreciated, and I hope you will join me again soon for my first post-poem of 2023… assuming that I can continue to rise above - if not quite get the better of - the mess in which ten years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer have left my thought processes.😉

SHADES OF GREY

The world around me,
various shades of grey, a sad, 
often lonely place…
Apollo having all but taken
his leave of us, trusting
we’ll manage gloomy days
as best we can,
let mind-body-spirit aid and abet us
in making wiser choices 

Weary, a natural world
sick of human nature abusing it
in the name of ‘progress’
without taking bold steps enough
to ensure its past-present
may yet anticipate a kinder future
than marks its pages,
colours its history, common humanity
but a chancer’s reality

Shades of green and gold
courtesy of Apollo’s rays of hope,
a brave one-upmanship
taking its cue from any You-Me-Us 
that haunts the history
of a humankind trying to find its way
through multiple shades
of blue-green-gold urging we'll get wise
to its potential demise

Though we suffer its every shade of grey,
trust heart-and-soul to save the day

Copyright R. N. Taber 2022

[Note: This poet-poem also appears on my general poetry blog today. I am also working on a new gay-specific poem  which I hope to publish here soon.] RT

Starting Over

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

“Heaven is under our feet as well as over our heads.” – Henry David Thoreau

“The mind is its own place and in itself can make a Heaven of Hell, a Hell of Heaven.” – John Milton

“It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It cannot be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell.” - Buddha

Now, overheard in a supermarket on Christmas Eve:

1st Person: “I so love this time of year. It’s so good to unwind, but it’s over too soon, and where are we then? I mean, where’s the excitement, the fun, in a whole new year stretching ahead that’s likely to stress us out all over again?”

2nd Person: “Life is what you make it. For my part, I love the feeling of starting all over again and being given the chance to put a few things right and be happy again. I can’t explain it, but it’s not a bad feeling, quite the opposite…”

I so empathised with that second person. Although I do not subscribe to any of the world religions, I am neither atheist or agnostic. Nature has always filled me with a sense of spirituality I cannot explain, even to myself. Maybe that’s why I write poetry, as an attempt to define the indefinable; not just a feeling, nor a religious faith, but a faith, no less. Whatever, it has seen me through some pretty bad times and some great times too. For better or worse, it has made of my life what, at surface level does not amount to much, but, a n ‘other’ self in me recognizes that it has been an incredible learning curve.

I guess it’s the same for everyone, although in my case it has taken 77+ years to even begin to understand what has to be, in no small part, the role of personal space in the overall meaning of life. As for hope, optimism, positive thinking - whatever we like to call it – maybe that, in turn is the role of the kind of faith that nature inspires in many of us?

For me, anyway, Spinoza’s sense of God and Nature being much of a one-ness, has seen me has seen me through more ups and downs of life to my late 70’s…and I suspect hasn’t finished with me quite yet. So, a new chapter looming in the shape of a new year, is scary, but curiously exciting one. 

Who knows that lies ahead for any of us? We can but trust that still, small voice that goes by whatever name we choose, whatever our personal space learns to feels OK with…? Having grown in the bigoted 1950’s, is it any wonder that it took me until my 30’s to listen to mine and tell the world I’m gay…?

STARTING OVER

End of another year looming,
a global consciousness continuing to plead 
for peace and goodwill
to take root in the hearts of warmongers
in high places left swivelling
on comfy chairs in plush, warm home zones,
rehearsing a Rhetoric of Peace
along with political ends, in keeping with a faux morality
that haunts a weary humanity

End of another year looming,
a global consciousness continuing to hope
for kinder times ahead
on the backs of the quick and the dead
left grieving losses, asking questions,
looking for answers where angels fear to tread
lest they encounter lost souls 
asking the way to a safe house heard tell of called Heaven,
Peace of Mind, second to none

End of another year looming,
mind-body-spirit busy working out
how best to survive;
in or lose, resolving to understand
just who we are
by the end of it all (one way or another) 
not least for listening, believing
in each other, and lending a helping hand, ear, eye, whatever.;
life force, human endeavour

Heart-and-soul preparing to get the better of our flaws again;
mind-body-spirit of being human

Copyright R. N. Taber. 2022

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

An Empathy with Nature (3)

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

"If liberty means anything at all, it means the right to tell people what they do not want to hear.” - George Orwell

“If freedom of speech is taken away, then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter.” -George Washington

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will.” - Charlotte Brontë

"The moment you say that any idea is sacred, whether it's a religious belief or secular ideology, the moment you declare a set of ideas to be immune from criticism, satire, derision or contempt, freedom of thought becomes impossible. - Salman Rushdie

Now, the recent attempted murder of Sir Salman Rushdie an active supporter of free speech has shocked the free-thinking world

The Indian-born Briton, whose novel The Satanic Verses led to death threats from Iran in the 1980s, was about to deliver a lecture at the Chautauqua Institution in New York state, when his attacker leapt on stage and stabbed him.

Fortunately, it has been reported that Sir Salman is no longer on a ventilator and is able to speak, although it is possible that he may have sustained potentially life-changing injuries as a result of the attack on Friday.  

Free expression and a personal space which embraces a sense of spirituality, whatever our religious or secular beliefs, deserve to be seen as mutually inclusive. I see it as the bottom line in the argument for agreeing to differ, on which most if not all my poetry posts are based

AN EMPATHY WITH NATURE (3)

Humanity is all-embracing
where ‘all’ includes you-me-us 
in any language, culture
and creed, a worthy heads-up 
to freedom of expression
and a sense of no holds barred,
in such walks of life
and corners of an ever-sickening world
where denied the last word

Fear of losing kith and kin,
has never been reason enough
to hide behind any lie
or threat even love may feel
called upon to impose, adopting
a false persona,
for an only-human need to be seen
betraying neither native beliefs nor ideals
incumbent on heart-and-souls

Life was a closet -prison,
no escape, till I found someone
to listen to me
(non-judgementally) sensing
my pain and insecurity
as a human being, no awful stereotype
conjured up by society
to conceal its ignorance, put its shame to rout
for failing LGBT+ folks coming out

I am Redemption, author of my own salvation,
if only for taking the edge off being human 

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

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

An Empathy with Nature (1)

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

“Love has no gender - compassion has no religion - character has no race.” - Abhijit Naskar, [Either Civilized or Phobic: A Treatise on Homosexuality]

“Human nature is not a machine to be built after a model, and set to do exactly he work prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and develop itself on all sides, according to the tendency of the inward forces that make it a living thing.” John Stuart Mill

“In terms of sex between same-sex partners, the objection that "the parts don't fit" doesn’t make sense on even the most logical level. If the parts didn't work together, frankly, people wouldn't be putting them together.” -  Kathy Baldock [Walking the Bridgeless Canyon: Repairing the Breach Between the Church and the LGBT Community]

“Our common humanity is more important than all the things that divide us.” – Mairead Corrigan

Now, as regular readers will know, some years ago, I began writing a trilogy, the title of each volume to be Blasphemy, Sacrilege and Redemption; it was never finished. I had been given to understand that an American publisher would publish it, but it transpired that he was only interested in breaking into the UK market. When Blasphemy failed to comply, he lost interest in any companion volumes. 

Although I had already written Sacrilege, no UK publishers expressed any interest in a gay-interest trilogy. Moreover, a very rude letter from the American publisher, making fun of my self-publishing logo, “Assembly Books” left me loath to complete the trilogy. He clearly had no sense of irony which, regrettably, I took to heart at the time.

Later, I published Sacrilege along with Blasphemy and my other novels on my fiction blog, but was already having to deal with health issues that, dissuaded me from writing Redemption.

Why Blasphemy-Sacrilege-Redemption? The enduring hope was to get across the idea that any form of prejudice is a blasphemy, just as physically and/ or emotionally abusing LGBT+ folks is a sacrilege and our ability to rise above it and come together in peace and love with the blessing of friends and family (gay or straight, kith and kin alike) is nothing short of a redemption. 

For my own part, those early closet years were a living death, nor ever have I felt so alive as when I felt the full force of mind-body-spirit prompting me to to get real and come out. . 

Subscribers to conventional religions may well take offence; none intended, though, as my only intention has ever been to endorse the Human Right to differ. Besides, any religious argument that  God is Love loses credence in the face of any form of prejudice within the framework of a common humanity. Me, I consider myself a Pantheist, a feeling for God as nature rather than its creator, having always felt a closer affinity and sense of spirituality with nature. 

As in all matters across the human landscape, we cannot expect to always accept or even understand some of the choices people make, simply respect them as we respect theirs, not cause dispute and irreparable division, especially in matters of the heart. No one should be made to feel a sinner, whatever their religion, for staying true to their native sexuality; nor, I imagine, would any God of Love judge us so.

Regular readers of any or all of my blogs will know that agreeing to differ, rather than fighting over whatever, it is a matter close to my heart.

So…such is the background to a proposed trilogy of poems,  An Empathy with Nature (1), (2) and (3) of which the first appears below.

Now, I hope to complete (2) and (3) within a few weeks, but have to confess that health issues are proving a hindrance to just about everything I attempt at the moment, so there may be some delay.

Each poem will also appear on my general blog. Doubtless, some readers there will complain that my  Gay/ LGBT+- interest poems should be restricted to this blog, but a poem has something to say to everyone, just as prejudice is inclined to raise its ugly head anywhere and everywhere.

 AN EMPATHY WITH NATURE (1)

Some abuse me, say I sin
whose faith would condemn me 
to serve a life sentence,
prisoner of heart-and-soul,
unable to break free,
give the real me an opportunity
to be as faces in the moon
haunt my days, assure me night after night
that no wrong could feel so right

No conventional religion
would concede me the spirituality
my imagination feeds on,
taking my cue from earth, sea and sky,
all things bright ad beautiful,
creatures great and small, like candles
to love-hope-peace, lessons
for the learning in nature and human nature,
to embrace, pas on, nurture

No true love can be a sin,
regardless of whatever any religion
might have to say,
nor yearning flesh to yearning flesh,
whatever gender, but set on
giving the poetry of mind-body-spirit
a voice; no ego calling,
only a spirituality made fearful of rejection
by strictures on kith and kin

It well may be that home
is where heart-and-soul comes alive,
leaving doubts and fears
for the love of one above all others;
yet, love is ever plural,
has room aplenty for family and friends,
whose love and understanding
may yet be still relied upon as freely given;
such is the art of being human

Call me Blasphemy in a heaven-and-hell world
where Bigotry so loves to have the last word...?

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

S

L-G-B-T+, Life Forces

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

"Openness may not completely disarm prejudice, but it's a good place to start." Jason Collins

On my general poetry blog, I have been posting poems related to the Russian invasion of Ukraine.  New reader, J.H. has emailed me, to express disappointment in my not publishing a new poem here during LGBT History month. He also reports that LGBT friends living in Ukraine have good reason to dread, perhaps more than most, what will happen to them should their country come under Russian control.

Apologies, on both points. On the first, my only excuse is being in my late 70's now and left all but impotent by years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer. My imagination was more fertile during the years I was sexually active and I'm glad you enjoyed many of the poems you have accessed in the blog's archives.

Regarding your gay friends in Ukraine, we can but hope a Ukraine under Russian control will not reflect what would appear to be a majority view in Russia against same sex relationships.  I am told it isn’t easy to be gay in Ukraine, but LGBT folks are mostly left in peace and free to demonstrate for Equal Rights.

Now, I am posting a poem here today whose themes will be familiar, but I hope will resonate with any readers anywhere who feel - for whatever reason - unable to come out to family and friends. Been there, done that, and am still haunted by the experience some 60+ years on.

I think it was in 1914 when Jason Collins made sporting history by being the first professional athlete to declare publicly that he was gay; stigma all but removed, others followed his lead.

I well recall how I had just left school when I discovered Giovanni’s Room by James Baldwin on my local library shelves; it was first novel I read that reassured me that being gay is no sin, but as natural as breathing. 

I'd known I was gay since I was 14 years old, but to my shame, it would be another twenty years before I began to look the world in the eye as a gay man. I would not wish a closet existence such as I endured during those in-between years on my worst enemy.

Thankfully, many people, especially young people, are more inclined to take a person’s sexuality in their stride these days, being more interested in the person than his or her private life.

Sadly, some people, including followers of certain religions, remain as judgemental as ever of we LGBT folks and are essentially homophobic. Their powers that be will deny it, of course, but I have met many a good person whose religion has made them feel they must not only choose between Faith and Family, but between their sexuality and the sense of spirituality with which their religion has inspired them.

As I have said many times on my poetry blogs, and in my poems, no religion has a monopoly on spirituality nor the right to dictate how mind-body-spirit should feel.

While I mean no disrespect to any religion, having met some wonderful people from all walks of life, during my 70+ years, I can but ask as I have asked repeatedly on both poetry blogs - whatever happened to agreeing to differ?

L-G-B-T+, LIFE FORCES

I once ran for cover
into a dark lonely closet for fear
of faux stereotypes
always camped outside my door
awaiting an opportunity
to gobble me up, if only if only
to spew me out again
into a mucky trough of public opinion
as it was way back then

Years passed. I emerged
from what I’d taken to be safety,
but proven wrong
by an active mind-body-spirit’s
ever challenging me
to be my own man, face prejudice
and bigotry head-on,
remind the world that gay’s not a word
but a living, feeling person

Now, I grow old, the world
a kinder place for the most part,
yet faux stereotypes
continue to thrive, would have me
put down for the ‘sin’
of being my own person, embracing
a sense of spirituality
and close kinship with nature and humanity
some would yet deny me

Come a time, I must look
death in the face, I shall find peace
of a kind, still denied
such as I in communities worldwide
betraying a life force
without equal, giving truth a bad name,
insisting we hang our heads
in shame for freeing mind-body-spirit of fetters
imposed by our ‘betters’

So, to whom the wiser soul
among those who strive to negotiate
life’s open mazes,
he or she who would follow natural instinct
for all they may be outlawed
or worse, accused of sacrilege, blasphemy.
for but staying true
to mind-body-spirit by choosing to ignore those
promoting faux news

Spirituality is no competition,
as certain religions would have us see it,
any reward in Heaven
due only to those who consent to subscribing
to such ways of Believing
as set in stone, yet no God of Love
nor Earth Mother
would, surely, reject or condemn any LGBT person
for coming into their own

Our differences don’t make us different, only human
in the all-seeing eye of self-perception

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

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

 

 

 

 

Hello again, Everyone, from London UK

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

"Times of terror and the deepest misery may arrive, but if there is to be any happiness in this misery, it can only be a spiritual happiness related to the past in the rescue of the culture of early ages and to the future of a serene and indefatigable  championship of the spirit in a time which would otherwise completely swallow up the material." - Herman Hess (The Glass Bead Game)

Hello again Everyone, from London UK

Hi folks,

Sorry, no poem yet as my health issues are ganging up on me, but they on't include Covid-19 or any of its variants, so am trying to look on the bright(er) side of life... albeit through a misty window.😉

Again, most of this post appears on both poetry blogs today, given that feedback suggests some LGBT readers  are only interested in LGBT-specific poems. I can but urge them to explore the blog archives as most of my early entries are precisely that...

Yesterdays, my 76th birthday, I had lunch with my best friend who was later mugged, his debit card stolen and phone smashed. I.am hoping to see him later today if the trains are running ok as I don't have a car; travel is not advised, but needs must... Fortunately, he is not hurt, but may well be in shock for awhile yet. It was a birthday we won't forget, and much the same will apply to Christmas this year, already in tatters for many people due to the meteoric spread of Omicron. 

I am working on a positive-thinking poem to post here on Christmas Day, so do drop by over Christmas if you can. Meanwhile, we can only do our best to enjoy as Happy a Christmas as we can make it each in our own way. 

As regular readers know, I am not a Christian but a Pantheist. Whatever, we all deserve a good slice of Peace and Goodwill at any time of year, especially in the middle of a pandemic that is creating personal crises for so many people, not least in terms of their mental well-being. Stress is a cunning beast; it can creep up on us unawares and/or insinuate itself among other worries and concerns we may be having to deal with and see that we get everything out of proportion to such an extent that depression sinks its teeth into us and we feel we just cannot cope.

If you know someone who tells you they cannot cope any more, do lend a helping hand as well as a shoulder to cry on Some people, especially men, seem to think that giving way to stress is a weakness to be kept hidden. Ah, but we are only human, men and women, younger and older; there is no shame in asking for help. Yes, I know I have said this before on the blog, only recently too, but - as my mother used to say - if something is worth saying, it is worth repeating... time and again if necessary.

That's all for today, I'm afraid, as I need to get on with some physical exercises if only to  find relief for my mounting anxieties before I visit my friend who has been mugged. Oh, and I expect to be back by early evening, in time to tap Inspiration for yet another Covid Christmas poem.

If you have time and are in the mood, do feel free to explore the blog archives.

Take care everyone, stay safe and do your best to keep nurturing a positive-thinking mindset,

Hugs,

Roger

Hello from London, UK (Yes, it's the old codger-poet again!)

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

Hello again from London UK

No poem to day, but soon... if my messed-up thought processes can rise to the occasion.  My prostate cancer isn't painful, but...oh, I have such fond (if distant!) memories of getting a decent night's sleep!

Straight people, all ages, sometimes ask what it's like to be gay and "not in the swim of everyday life." A silly question, if only for assuming that LGBT folks are not in the swim of everyday life. We are, after all, human beings and, as such, as much a part of a common humanity as anyone else.

Sometimes people, all ages, also ask me how I cope, not just with the prostate cancer but with growing old in general. To be honest, I'm not sure, but on the whole I just do... I suspect it's down to Mind-Body-Spirit pulling together as good friends will during hard times. 😉 Body is likely o prove the weaker link at any moment in time, but especially after it has been around long enough for a good many years to leave their mark, but - more often than not - Mind and Spirit act as pacemakers, and Body feels encouraged to press on...

Ah, but what if Mind falls foul of the darker of human temptations and  gets too close to The Edge of it all, cannot find the will to draw back, prevent freefalling into that same darkness? It is at such times that the human Spirit comes into its own, encouraging native willpower to see the trees in the wood for the beautiful species they are, find a way through to a place of such potential reassurance as to offer a good chance of our being able to enjoy the flowers and birdsong that the inner ear is pleading with us to  hear and take heart...

That's all very well, but what if the Human Spirit, too, has lost its way, become confused, unable to see any wood for its damn trees that seem to be closing in on it, their motives unclear although an encroaching darkness s a sure threat, no comfort there, no sleep to rescue us from despair with sweet dreams and memories of how things were before... whatever. Mind may well  struggle to restore Spirit to its senses, Body too, but what chance of success, Spirit being by far the stronger of the trinity?

Ah, but let's not forget the power of  life forces from which Mind-Body-Spirit engages all the time, whether we are aware of it or not; the sheer Poetry of Love; family, friendship, images of  the natural world that have made such an impression on our sensibilities that we hear them calling to us through time and space . True, we may yet play deaf to the call and teeter over The Edge, but Mind-Body-Spirit, will inevitably pull together and do its best to persuade us otherwise... if we will but pause just a moment from  feeling sorry for ourselves, engaging with the politics of blame long enough to listen . Yes, finding our way through the woods may well be  a hard slog, maybe even impossible...BUT...worth a try, surely?

So much for life forces concerned only with our well-being, whether we choose to engage with them or not, but what of Death's lack of concern for our survival, able to  take us away from the Poetry of Life and Love at the blink of an eye? Well, there is a Poetry of Faith that may or may not be related to any religion that assures us of a place in an all-embracing Mind-Body-Spirit that defies even life itself, sure to carry us into the hearts of any with whom we have shared the Poetry of Love in whatever form it may have taken; it is called Remembrance or Personal Space (Memory) in it more intimate form; sense of spirituality denied no one. I suspect that Personal Space archives memories of it own that even dementia patients are able to take heart and comfort from. even though they may not be consciously aware of their evergreen presence within the deeper, inner self, able to select happy times and leave any bad times to fade like autumn leaves.; such, too is the Poetry pf Spirituality...

"Stuff and nonsense," do I hear some readers say? Possibly so, but there is a life-force within even  of  certain 'Stuff and 'Nonsense' wherein even the most troubled heart can find a degree of peace... if it chooses to look for it; easily enough done if we choose to freely and frankly engage with Mind-Body-Spirit whenever we find ourselves at the end of our tether... for whatever reason.

Take care, folks, stay safe and many thanks for dropping by,

Hugs,

Roger 

[Note: This post also appears on my general blog today, given that feedback suggests t significant number of LGBT readers are inclined to ignore it, for whatever reason. I can only emphasise, yet again, that poetry is open to everyone to explore, hopefully enjoy and reach whatever conclusion/s may apply within a mind-body-spirit whose individuality is unique to us all.] RT 

Wake up, World, get Real

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

I haven’t added many gay-specific poems to the blog for some time, so here’s a new one that I am posting on both poetry blogs today. 

It isn't only about climate change that much of the world needs to stop dragging its feet and get real. 

Embracing an LGBT perspective on the world is never easy in so far as the world is full of bigots, some of whom hide behind their religion to justify their attitude towards the global consciousness that is LGBT, in spite of certain life forces that continue to conspire against it, including most world religions. 

The world's collective mindset has come a long way since I was a troubled gay teenager in the 1950's. Even so, we still have a long way to go before we can consider the gap well and truly truly closed between how we see ourselves and how the rest of the (straight) world sees us...but we are getting there, slowly but surely, and that has to count for a LOT.  

Meanwhile we can but continue to defy the homophobes and religious hypocrites... and get a life while encouraging LGBT folks in less enlightened societies and communities to rise above all that, in mind-body-spirit anyway, even where the closet door has to remain shut for safety's sake..

To suggest that LGBT folks cannot continue to be a part of a religious community to which they have given heart and soul has to count among the worst kinds of rejection. It is bad enough that some LGBT folks are (still) rejected by family and peers in all parts of the world, forcing many to live secret lives. Whatever happened to agreeing to differ and respecting each other rather than seeing the other party as an enemy, blasphemer or whatever...?

Now, as regular readers will know, I am in my mid-70’s now and having to contend with various health issues. I have to admit that I struggle to write poems these days, but I hope you will embrace this one in the spirit in which it was written, warts ‘n’ all.

WAKE UP, WORLD, GET REAL

We walked in a dream,
my true  love and I, crossed rainbows
into a paradise
where no faux stereotypes could expect
to survive long,
where secrets, lies and home truths
encouraged to escape
cold, dark, lonely closet lives,
look the world in the eye, have it welcome us
into a prejudice-free universe 

We lived in a dream,
my true love and I, feeling more each day
that it didn’t matter
we were gay, only that we should stay true
to a glad heart,
beating as strong as any other,
embracing all humanity, anxious to let
the LGBT ethic take a bow,
despite having been so often put down, abused,
in a universal Here-and-Now 

We woke from a dream,
my gay love and I, had to cross sword
with worldly bigots
and faux stereotypes, assuming a reality
all but surreal
in a mind-body-spirit that’s struck deaf-blind
by the very world it lives in,
one where all good people, wherever
and whoever, well deserve be free to live in peace,
each to their own, no prejudice 

We still share a dream,
my gay love and I, although he’s gone,
but still a part of me,
looking on with even more hope than pain
as history proceeds
to make much the same mistakes time
and time again...
Yet, there is a young generation, wise
beyond its years, accepting people as they are,
not as the bigot invariably sees 

It was and will always be
the way of dreamers to take their cue
from a way of life
that rushes not to judgement, taking care
to look to the inner self,
ask frank questions, draw upon honest answers
let actions speak louder
than words, demand we of human nature
demonstrate greater respect for Earth Mother, 
nor less so towards one another

LGBT, in all walks of life, a global consciousness
swathes of worldly conscience need to address 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

[Note: This poem also appears on my general poetry blog today; any new LGBT readers may like to explore  the archives (see right hand side of any posts.) To access my other poetry -and fiction - blogs, click on the scroll bar in the top right hand corner next to the blog title.] RT

  

 

 

 

 

 

Coming, Ready or Not OR Now & Then

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

Reader A. H. writes that his family disapprove of his choice of life-partner and says, “My family are everything to me, but so is the woman I love. What can I do?” 

The reader must make a choice, and I would not presume to advise. I would only say that if his family are as close as they would appear to be, the chances are they will come, sooner or later, to his choice of bride.  Sadly, it is a choice many LGBT men and women around the world also have to face. 

As I have often said on the blogs, in preambles and poems alike, love comes in many shapes and forms, but there is a common denominator – survival. Where strong and true, love can endure even the worst life throws at it, in life or death; where unacceptable to some, that is their loss. 

I have seen families split by life choices made by this or that member. Sometimes our choices prove to be at worst misguided, at best flawed, but all of us need to learn by our mistakes, and that works for everyone concerned. Closed doors can be re-opened, but there needs to be a clear will on both sides, not always there...so they remain closed, everyone left asking why, and expecting someone else to make the first move.  

Love never dies, but it is as capable of inflicting hurt and being hurt by human nature as any of us or nature itself. 

COMING, READY OR NOT or NOW & THEN

Once, I’d hide in an old tree
for an ages-old game of hide-and-seek
among peers grown young
with me, Apollo taking a peek
through leaves of spring
taking my side, a brisk south wind
up for playing its part,
while letting rip with a warning shout,
“Coming, ready or not...!” 

Once, I’d lie by that same tree,
feeling blessed for having you at my side
the two of us so happy
just to be together, no words needed
to express expectations
of a future to build, share and enjoy
in such ways as love brings
for letting rip to the world with a shout,
“Coming, ready or not...!” 

Now, returned to that old tree
to share treasured memories of you-me- us,
revisit the dreams we shared,
ask why we were able to fulfil so few,
parted as we were too soon,
yet thankful, indeed, we’d found
in each other such life-forces
as inclined to let rip to the world with a shout,
“Coming, ready or not...!” 

Among leaves of an old tree, hear Apollo shout,
“Coming, ready or not...!" 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021 

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

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

A Force to be Reckoned With

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

Today’s poem was written in much the same spirit as the one before for which I make no apologies.

As we grow older, our thoughts inevitable turn to mortality and what it means to us in an intensely personal way; sorrow for having to leave family and friends – at least in a physical sense – is only half the battle some of us wage within ourselves as we recall images arisen from threats and promises made during long-ago formative years that are rarely as easy to shrug off as we might wish.

Over the years, I have met gay men from all walks of life and religion; the latter imposing far more guilt and despair on them than they deserve for their rejecting certain aspects of dogma by which a defensive worldly agenda would exclude them from both faith and any sense of spirituality altogether.

While I mean what I say about respecting a person’s religious beliefs, I also mean what I say when I blame religion for so many of humanity’s divisions and flaws, including my own.

Recently, I got chatting with a  gay Catholic man, in his mid-70’s like myself, besieged with doubts and fears regarding a Heaven he never ceased to believe in, but spent the best part of a lifetime in a weepy closet, made to feel by family and peers that he had no right to believe in anything much, including himself.

At the risk of being reprimanded for repeating myself yet again, no religion has a monopoly on spirituality.

The human spirit will be guided as much by the body’s innate feeling for all things positive as the mind’s inclination to trust its own judgement. Together, all three are a force to be reckoned with as world religions are beginning to realise; the more LGBT+ folks who learn to have faith in themselves and each other, the less likely they can be made to feel denied or undeserving of either those aspects of religion with which they most identify or the sense of growing reassurance it brings that no one’s spiritual well-being is threatened by their sexuality alone.

Regular readers will know that, as a pantheist, I reject the kind of dogma perpetuated by most world religions. Many who, likewise, cannot relate to a personified God any more than I do, or the teachings found in Holy Books, may well think of themselves (openly or not) as atheist or agnostic. Whatever, the human spirit clearly does have a will of its own, is capable of generating a sense of spirituality among even the most irreligious of human beings, not least in our capacity for love, in all its shapes and forms; lose that and, yes, we may well be on the road to a living Hell of our own making...

A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH 

A young man stood weeping
at the Gates of Hell where he’d been told
told to wait by certain “betters”
among humankind until let in to join others
whom the Devil has taken
for his own, down to words said, deeds done,
no malice intended, but seen as sinning,
deserving the worst all God-fearing folks can imagine 
within the parameters of their religion 

An angel came out of nowhere,
asked the young man why he shed such tears,
and the young man replied
how it was the sum of all earthly fears to be there
at Death’s door, waiting to see
the flames of hellfire, be made to dive therein,
due punishment for such worldly sin
as being on love with another man, much the same as he 
for engaging with homosexuality 

“Love is love, whatever its nature,”
said the angel, hand to head in sorrow and pain,
“Nor was eternity intended
for such troubles as mortal minds are inclined
to inflict rather than agree to differ,
allow for such reality es as they cannot be a part,
its seeds sown and nurtured in the heart
by assorted mind-body-spirits, rejected by such religiosity
as imposes its own spirituality...” 

“Are you saying I might even qualify
for Heaven? the young man asked, barely daring
to entertain the thought,
yet inspired by the angel’s understanding smile
to hope for more from eternity
than either burning or being as alone as made to feel
for much of his time on Earth
as neither of Earth Mother or Father born,
but an outsider, a freak of humanity, if only in failing to see
religion's monopoly on eternity 

“We who are not of Earth are well aware
of all that goes on there, can see into a human heart,
the sum of all its many parts
as lending the individual any benefit of doubt,
sitting less in judgement
than in compassion, allowing for a sense of spirituality
as comprises a whole that some call ‘soul’
where others see a human spirit engaging purely and simply
with a feeling for what comes naturally 

The young man took the angel’s hand in his,
and flew realms of time and personal space he’d seen
only in dreams of a kinder world,
no one made to suffer for ways of life and thought
that some may well see differently,
but the human spirit deserves a place and say in a world
that, try as it might, cannot dictate
how a person should feel or believe in order to (ever) qualify
to go wherever angels have no fear to fly

Copyright R.N. Taber 2021 

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

L-I-F-E, Poems for every Occasion

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

For many years, I tried to think of myself as an agnostic because I could not get my head around the idea of a personified God. At the same time, I found myself developing a very close relationship with the natural world that was of a very spiritual nature. 

In (much) later years, I would discover and identify with Pantheism. In my early 60’s by now, I was finally able to relate to the sheer poetry of a spirituality in me that I never found in either the Christianity in which I was raised of any other of the world’s religions. 

At long last, I feel comfortable with a sense of spirituality, less of an outsider for subscribing to no religion, while continuing to nurture a sense of purpose in life that, for many years, had eluded me except in so far as to put it down to poetic whim. 

As to whether or not I am a good poet is less relevant than how poetry brings me closer and closer to nature even though I rarely even get to its glorious landscapes now due to mobility problems. On my wall, I have a painting of woodlands I used to explore as a child growing up in Kent.  I often take imaginary strolls in that painting, recapture a spirit of halcyon days that has never (quite) left me even during the worst moments in my life. 

Pantheists believe that God is nature rather than its creator, which may well explain a Poetry of Spirituality that has always seen me through good and bad times, taken me to the proverbial Edge and back time and again. 

I reason not the need; that a spiritual need in me is answered in this way is enough to keep me looking on the bright(er) side of life, its pitfalls notwithstanding.. 

The words of a vicar's wife, a work colleague who told me she enjoyed working with me and was sorry I would go to hell (for being gay, I presume?) lost the power to hurt me long ago.

If God is nature, could that be why nature does not discriminate in the way many humans (still) do?

L-I-F-E, POEMS FOR EVERY OCCASION 

There are trees whose leaves
speak with the voices of poets, reciting summers,
autumns, even lonely winters
when only robins likely to linger long enough
to promise such regeneration as may yet get to see
its poets live and let live 

There are birds come to nest
and teach their young such poetry of their home-tree
as will see them through its seasons,
encourage them to explore both heavens above,
and earth below, get to know what it takes for kith, kin
and poetry to survive 

There are poets whose hearts
are given freely to an Earth Mother, anxious to be
put through the very motions 
of each season as it comes, share the joys
we take in life, and such sorrow as sure to follow death
as birdsong on human ears 

There has always been poetry
as close to nature as human nature, anxious to see
them working in such harmony
as gives conservation and preservation of species
due priority, whatever it takes to be sure Earth’s poetry
is more than a rehearsal 

Rehearsal for what, who knows? A good start may well be
to listen and learn more from (all) life-poetry...?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

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

 

 

Past-Present-Future, Our Call

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

While I don’t believe we (quite) make our own luck or bad luck, I have come to have a sense of mind-body-spirit’s directing it. 

As regular readers know, I had planned to qualify as a librarian after leaving school in January 1964 (after re-taking and re-failing an A-level.) Unable to take up my place at Library School, I drifted for a good 7 years with no real sense of direction. 

Looking back, though, I may have lost heart, and mind-body-spirit may well aided and abetted my drifting, we never lost sight of what or who I wanted to be. I went into free fall after freefall, made mistake after mistake, but even in the course of these, I never quite lost sight of my original aims in life -to be a librarian and find the confidence to look the world in the eye as a gay man.   

My hearing problem (perceptive deafness) means I often have communication problems in group situations; apart from a love of literature, I am essentially a ‘people’ person so public library work was always the obvious choice of career as it involves a lot of 1-1 information work with which I am (far) more comfortable and can cope (far) more effectively. As for being gay, mind-body-spirit was working on that issue too. 

Yes, I got there in the end and many would say it was more by luck than good judgement. It may sound whimsical, but I suspect mind-body-spirit knew best. Yes, it took me a longer to qualify as a librarian, and I did not leave the proverbial ‘closet’ until my 30’s, but those dark years of drifting like a lost soul in a worldly wilderness gave me a greater understanding of personal crises and (hopefully) has made me a better poet. Although I have always loved writing poetry, I never realised just how much a part of me the poet in me really is until I was much older. 

So, luck, bad luck...up to a point we make our own, but if we never (quite) lose our sense of direction in life... well, yes, I suspect mind-body-spirit will continue to guide us through thick and thin if we but keep faith with it, and let it do just that. 

PAST-PRESENT-FUTURE, OUR CALL 

Like leaves on a feisty breeze,
the baffled consciousness travels
a puzzled world’s wondering
just what’s what about governmental
decisions, as likely as not to leave us
asking more questions, if only for mulling
what-might-have-been but for pecuniary pies
in various (potential) answers 

Like blossom on a feisty breeze,
the hopeful consciousness travels
as freely as any scepticism
regarding electoral cat-and-mouse games
as likely as not to be interrupted
by as an innate a cynicism as parental calls
for us to participate in home rituals reaffirming
their knowing what’s ‘best’ for us 

Like roots in a feisty breeze
an enduring consciousness travels
time and (personal) space...
coming to rest more by nature’s whim
than any pre-ordained design
yet returning to the earth from whence it came,
perchance to rebirth itself, with the good earth onside
to make reparation, earn forgiveness? 

Chance may well be a fine thing, once it can see  
just who-what-where in life we need to be 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

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

Hi Folks, from London UK

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

Hi folks, from London UK

No poem today, but I should have one ready for you for Monday.

Reader A. S. has emailed to ask how badly the pandemic has affected me, and if I feel now much as I used to before it struck. It would appear that he or she is estranged from their family because for not sharing the same religious faith; clearly both are preying on the reader's mind.

Well, like many if not most people, the pandemic, lockdowns etc. have taken their toll on me, but I do try to practise what I preach with regard to nurturing a positive mindset. Growing old and living alone is never going to be easy. We can but take each day as it comes. The recent death of a former work colleague I knew well hit me hard, the more so, I suspect, because of the stress the pandemic was already imposing. I became all but obsessed with the prospect of dying for some weeks to the extent that I was prompted to revise my Will.

As regular readers will know, I do not subscribe to any religion. It is my choice and I would ask others to respect it just as I respect those who do subscribe to this religion or that, although the former has rarely been my experience among the devout. I have strong views about world religions, not least because I am gay and they make LGBT folks feel excluded, even from having a sense of spirituality to which, as both poet and Pantheist, I do subscribe, very much so. 

For me, personally, religion embodies the sentiment expressed by George Orwell in his satirical novel, Animal Farm: 'All animals are equal, but some are more equal that others.' Certainly, in the world today, much the same applies to human beings, even in the context of religion. Another former work colleague once told me that she enjoyed working with me and was so sorry that I was destined to go to hell (for being gay).  Needless to say, I was neither fazed nor impressed. As far as I'm concerned, we make our own heaven or hell here on Earth, which, given the ways of the world we live in, is not too difficult. 

Many if not most of us fear death, not least myself although I fear an physical pain it may involve than death itself. Nor, incidentally, do I see it as a taboo or even morbid subject. On the contrary, death is as much part and parcel of life as life itself. As I see it, it's not only pragmatic, but also healthy to consider its implications, not only for ourselves, but loved ones too; the legal implications for the latter if we die intestate, for example, can provide the latter with a mountain to climb at a time when they are likely to be grieving. (While we all have our own ways of dealing with grief, none of them are easy.) 

I have written poems about death, not from a sense of morbidity, but to help me come to terms with the prospect in such a way as to prevent it taking over my life as I have seen happen with some people; this was my intention in my poem, Extracts from a Pantheist's Diary about which I received several nasty emails  No offence was intended, however, so I did not publish the apology they demanded. As I ask on the blogs fairly often - including a poem of the same name - whatever happened to agreeing to differ? 

When I die, I will be cremated, and if any of my organs can be of use to anyone, they are welcome. As for 'eternal life' I see that as my living on in the memories of those closest to me, possibly even passed from generation to generation across time and personal space; among complete strangers even, too, with whom I may have engaged in one-off existential chat on public transport, as I do now and then. Certainly, I remember what the latter had to say and have already passed it on...as  I would like to think at least some of my poems may provide food for thought enough to be passed on in much the same  way, although I remain very pragmatic on that front, too, and don't, as one reader put to me only recently ."delude" myself that I'm  a "great" poet. 

Ah, but enough s enough methinks, for now at least. All that remains is for me to  say thanks for dropping by and hope you will do so again soon. Take are, keep well and, yes, be sure to nurture a positive mindset, if only because the alternative is a sure way to make a living hell for ourselves. Life is better than that, so are we.

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: This post also appears on mu general poetry blog today,] RNT

Hi everyone, from London UK

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

Hi everyone from London UK,

No poem today but I’m working on one in between the usual chores and hope to publish it here fairly soon. Nothing new here at all, really, but whenever anyone emails me, it is nearly always along much the same lines as this prose post at attempts to cover. The stress caused by the pandemic appears to have raised a whole gamut of conflicting feelings in many if not most of us.

A reader asks why I am revising many poems in the blog archives whole not leaving the originals for readers to compare. Comparisons can always be made with earlier versions that appear in my collections; to date, only a limited number were ever published, but I hope to eventually make them all available online. At the moment, I am struggling to put all unpublished poems (including any revisions) on a memory stick just in case I get ill and cannot press ahead with new collections, in which event my best friend, Graham, has said that he will see to it that they are published; in the meantime, anyone interested can always access any poem here or on my gay-interest poetry blog.

Another reader asks how on earth I manage to write poetry at my age (75) and living alone with a pandemic raging. Well, as I have said before, it is as much a form of creative therapy to take my mind off the coronavirus threat as wanting to communicate my ideas and feelings to anyone who may be interested.

I was a closet gay man for some years, before coming out to all and sundry in my 30’s so the motivation for a gay blog had always been there. Even in the western hemisphere there is still a lot of antipathy towards gay people, especially gay men, worse still if they are raised in any of the world religions. Religion, in the light of my own experience and experiences shared with LGBT folks around the world, from all manner of socio-cultural-religious backgrounds, has proven itself to be our worst enemy. Trying to rise above that and find our way in life can be really tough, especially where family and friends feel, for whatever reason, they cannot be supportive.#

Closets have to be among the loneliest places on the planet and those trapped in them need to know that they are not alone and there is nothing wrong or sinful about a sexual orientation that does not conform to so-called social, moral or religious conventions. We are born as we are. Asked if I would have chosen not to be gay, I would probably answer ‘yes' - not because I am ashamed of my sexuality, but because life would have been so much less complicated; dealing with our own feelings can be hard enough (for anyone) but having to deal with other people’s prejudices and misperceptions can prove a waking nightmare.

Poetry, of course, attempts to reach out to everyone; as the poet climbs his or her own learning curve so the reader is invited to follow their train of thought, not in any didactic sense but with a view to inviting an understanding of viewpoints with which they many not be familiar and/ or have been raised to believe are ‘unnatural.’ As I point out on the blogs so often, we are each and every one of us, part of a common humanity; our differences do not make us different, only human. Of course, there is good and bad in most people and both deserve to be treated accordingly, but no one deserves to be judged according to such common stereotypes as many people are drawn to like magnets. I was raised a Christian, but the suggestion in the Holy Bible - essentially common to any religious way of thinking – how we should be aware that none of us are perfect, and before we judge and condemn others may do well do to take a long, honest look at our inner selves; giving way to temptation, may well deserve punishment, but being able to resist temptation doesn’t necessarily make us a ‘better’ person, just stronger.  

Tragically, many people continue to suffer in silence, afraid of seeking support for fear of being judged, but I would recommend self-help groups to anyone; the boost to self-esteem can be amazing, just for being with people who share a common problem, and feel able to share those feelings, freely and without embarrassment, on a common learning curve that makes the problem so much easier to live with if not overcome completely. Yes, you’ will have heard it all before, and I’m not anything new, so why are there still so many closets in the world and so many people feeling trapped in them, for whatever reason?  Religion has no more a monopoly on a sense of spirituality than some LGBT folks have a monopoly on closets. Choice lies, not in what kind of closet we feel closing in on us, but how we find a way out of it. Never easy, but always worth the effort…

Many thanks for dropping by,

Take care, and continue to nurture a positive-thinking mindset, any slings and arrows of everyday life notwithstanding,

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: this post appears on both poetry blogs today. Oh, and to those readers who have dipped into my fiction blog and asked for more, I can only apologise for having no further fiction projects in mind. Glad you found something to enjoy there.] RNT

Hi folks, from London UK

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

Hi, Everyone,

A reader has emailed to say how much he has enjoyed reading poems in the archives and wants to know why I don't write more poems "... to which LGBT people, especially gay men, can directly relate." The short answer is that I simply ran out of ideas., although I do add the occasional new poem to the blog whenever inspiration strikes. Moreover, as feedback suggests to my delight, more LGBT readers are discovering that they can also relate to many  poems on my general blog, written as they are for an all-inclusive mindset.

A new reader also asks how I reconcile the sense of spirituality to which I often refer in my poems with my not subscribing to any of the world religions. I have answered this question here before, so hope any regular readers will bear with my repeating myself.

Over the years, I have had conversations with many LGBT people who feel stigmatised by their sexuality; often they feel the need to hide their true sexual identity, not least because their religion forbids it. This is why I do not subscribe to any religion as such, but have felt a growing empathy with Pantheism in later years. Even as a child, I found it hard to relate to a personified God while, at the same time, I could not deny an innate sense of spirituality. As the years passed, I realised that being gay is not a choice but an aspect o the human condition to which most world religions refuse to acknowledge as being more natural than blasphemous. I also began to understand that my sense of spirituality came from my love for the natural world.  How could any God feel any antipathy towards the likes of me for that? I refused to believe that my sexuality was a sin and, as a work  colleague once put it, would go to Hell. By the time I finally came out to the world as a gay man, I had also discovered Pantheism; pantheists believed that God IS nature rather than simply its creator.

Now, I have every respect for any person's religious beliefs, although I confess I find religious agendas - of dogma, as they prefer to call it - fair bursting to the seams with a bigotry and hypocrisy that has never struck me as likely in any God. Whatever, each to their own, fair enough. As my poems often ask, whatever happened to agreeing to differ...?

No one should be made to feel guilty about their sexuality nor does (any) religion have a monopoly on spirituality. There will be many readers who disagree, are even offended by what I say, but no offence is intended; it is simply my view of the world as I have experienced it. In the course of my 75+ years, I have felt closer to nature, and closer to s sense of spirituality I cannot relate to religion, only nature; if  an affinity with Pantheism makes me a 'sinner' so be it.

A sense of spirituality is an important element in the human condition, and it has always been of great concern to me that a significant number of LGBT folks are made to feel they have no right to it on account of their sexuality. I refuse to believe that any God would hold a person's sexuality against him or her, whatever any Holy Books might have to say on the subject. Years ago, when I was well enough to participate in Gay Pride marches, it was a delight to be amongst others who felt able to look the world in the eye for their sexual inclinations rather than feel they should hang their heads in shame, although it saddened me - and still does - that some people had been rejected by family and friends es on religious rather than, or as well as, any 'moral' grounds. 

Whatever, the important thing is to be true to ourselves. Some families and friends get that, and the love they feel for a anyone is not diminished by their relating to the LGBT community; for others, religion takes preference over love, and they feel obliged to reject us. Sexuality is not a choice, but part  of who we are, but we are all persons of many parts; it s the whole that counts. Perhaps, one day, more of our religious "betters" may grasp that, and cease to practice the kind of bigotry they see fit to  impose on their congregations... although I have to say, I doubt it.

I once let slip to a friend of a friend, who happened to be a clergyman. that I am gay. Embarrassed, I apologised,. He laughed. "No need to apologise. Yours sexuality is between you and God. If he doesn't have a problem with it, why should I?  And if He does,? Well, that's for Him to deal with, not a mere clergyman. Now, that, is what I call agreeing to differ...

Take care, folks, keep well and many thanks for dropping by,

Back soon(ish),

Hugs,

Roger x 

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

 

A Yew Tree and a Rose (Revisited)

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

Covid-19 continues to take its toll on us across the world, and as a neighbour recently commented, "We are surrounded by death. True, but it will be Valentine's Day soon, so here's a poem to remind us that we are also surrounded by the evergreen nature of love. 

"The moment of the rose and the moment of the yew-tree
Are of equal duration." - Little Gidding (Four Quartets) - T.S. Eliot

A YEW TREE AND A ROSE (REVISITED)

I had come to lay a rose
at your grave, already in tears,
pausing by an ancient yew,
to rage at its mocking humanity,
mind-body-spirit
at a loss for being left alone
to dwell on its being
denied the lifespan of certain trees
over centuries. 

“You carry poison in sap,
berries and leaves,” I screamed
at the yew, “while a love
that gives mind-body-spirit
its joie de vivre
remains subject to such trials
or blessings as nature
sees fit to permit, regardless of class
or circumstances." 

"Love, too, carries poisons
of its own,” the tree pointed out,
“possessiveness, envy,
and jealousy but three of those
so, speak not to me
of poisons, given how humanity
delights in half-truths,
all the more so for their having spread
among the living dead.” 

“Yes, there are some call me
‘Tree of Death’ who are ignorant
of leafy needles
I let fall to live and let live
over centuries
and of any healing qualities
in sap, leaf or berry as your apothecaries
may use against diseases.” 

“Earth Mother, will give and take,”
the tree went on, “for such is nature
and human nature,
each their moments in time
to be loved and leave,
though neither forgotten
nor even dead to those privileged to share
any part of their time here.” 

My tears dried, and raging no more
at the world for its coming between us,
I lay my rose
on your grave, murmuring words
of love, returned
in a light breeze that's kissing me,
promising, as you make us a home in my heart 
that death will not see us part

 Copyright R. N. Taber, 2021

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

Human Spirit, Life Forces

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

Today’s poem is, yes, another kenning; it first appeared on the blog in November 2009, again in 2011 and today (for a second time) by 'Hannah and Jonathan’ for no special reason other than "it always lifts our spirits." Well, thank you, folks, happy to oblige.

Several people have commented to me recently that they feel "like death warmed up" and /or "totally drained" by the pandemic and its everyday implications for and limitations on everyday life; and so say all of us, I suspect. We can but stay positive and trust the human spirit to help us run the gamut and survive the stronger, not than weaker for it. Never easy, of course, even at the best of times.

A friend I knew as a student once confided that he 'envied' poets and others engaging in the arts because ' they can experience at first hand the everlasting quality of a vibrant Poetry of Life that passes so many of us by. At best..." he conceded, "...we can enjoy it while it lasts, provided we even recognise it for what it is at the time, of course. But, let's face it who want to be reminded once it moves on? I mean to say, no one wants to be reminded of any what-might-have-been, do they?"

While these were rhetorical questions, of course, I practised my right to agree to differ anyway, pointing out that no human experience either passes us by or even moves on completely, but remains a part of us, and whether we like/acknowledge it or not, it helps shape who we are and how we learn from whatever might-have-been may have affected us as it clearly had my friend. He shrugged, commented that "you arty types are all the same, always looking on the brighter side of life, and expecting the rest of us to take a leaf out of your poetry books." We both laughed. and he changed the subject.

Strange, isn't it, how some conversations stay with you like the lyric of a song you can't forget, as much for the singer as the song, if not more so...? Arts and artists, they help shape our lives along with their own; as for who gets the better deal, active participant or audience, that's anyone's guess, although I suspect it is in some timely inspiration that lies the key to any answers. Nor should it ever be assumed that anyone outside the arts field has ever been excluded from enjoying the Poetry of Life; it is a global consciousness, open to and welcoming anyone whose natural spirit engages with the poetry (and prose) of life in all its human diversity of expression and experience.

As regular readers of either or both poetry blogs will know only too well, I subscribe to no religion as such; an empathy with nature since childhood, though, leads me confess an intimate relationship with Pantheism in the sense that I see any 'God' as nature, rather than its creator, having never felt comfortable with the idea of a personified God.

Sadly, while I respect world religion/s, few who enter into them respect my point of view; neither atheist nor agnostic am I, though, so can we not simply agree to differ and get on with our lives without invoking words on historical tablets of stone that would keep us apart ...?

So ...what happens to the human spirit once its host body dies?  Regular readers will know by now that my sense of a posthumous consciousness is another of the life forces my poem suggests drives  a human spirit that ia not only eternal, but also, in its own unique way, continues to not only make a 'live' contribution to history .... be it in a personal and/or wider sense.

HUMAN SPIRIT, LIFE FORCES

I am that life force feeling its way

into dreams, making sure moon and stars

shine love’s light through layers

of darkness if only to reveal what’s real

in a world so easily misled by word

or gesture, generally making a poor show

of communicating such feelings

as all our kinder senses often banging

at the doors of closed minds

I am that life force lending a shoulder

to cry on, an ear to confide in, sees caution

thrown to the wind and returns it

as a kindness, suggesting we reconsider

persistently pitting human nature

against its other selves, risk losing face

in the eyes of old (and new) gods

looking down on our crude obsession

with mortality, and wondering why

I am that life force to whom they turn

whom flames of any passion would devour

for better, for worse, but only ashes

where we'd have left a blaze of memory

to comfort, leave us feeling secure,

whatever some Grim Reaper may yet

demand of us; no life force, he,

intending to override the Poetry of Life,

foiled by the resilience of its humanity

Come day or night, find me, Earth Mother,

archiving centuries of nurture

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010, 2020

[Note: This post/ poem also appears on mygeneral poetry blog today given that the poem (no less than all poetry) is all-inclusive, and feedback suggests many readers only drop in to one or the other blog; an earlier version of the poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]