Zen of the Seeing Eye

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

Today's post/poem is taken from my general poetry archives for April 2012. As regular readers know, I have health problems which I dare say go with the territory once a person turns 70+. Many thanks to those of you who have emailed to wish me well. So far, so good, as I am managing my pain levels and even getting out and about a bit with the aid of my trusty walking stick.

You will notice that I have dedicated the poem below to a gay-friendly artist friend, James Howard; I have known him since he was born, and now he and his wife will soon be parents. Wow, how time flies!

Admirers of James' art work will doubtless be interested to know that he has now created a kind of video diary on You Tube about confronting and overcoming everyday anxieties that can so often spiral into depression:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vOoZiZKZnPM&t=50s

or: http://www.luckyluckydice.com

Many readers who access my poems about mental health issues, and rising above them, may well find James' site worth a visit, as I did. (Let's face it, such is the degree of homophobia worldwide that anxiety is - or has been, at some time in our lives - almost second nature to many if not most of us.)

Now, I know this is a poetry blog, but...

Many thanks to those of you who have been in touch to say they are also enjoying my fiction blog:

http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.com

I am especially delighted that feedback on Dog Roses and Like There’s No Tomorrow has been so encouraging since I could not persuade a literary agent that they had anything to offer the reading public. Consequently, neither are available in print form, but I hope to upload them as e-books at a later date.

My latest crime novel - Catching up with Murder (Raider Publishing International, 2011)- is not a gay novel like Dog Roses or a gay-crime novel like Blasphemy or Sacrilege, but has a gay element in a story-line that frequently descends into black comedy. All my novels - published and unpublished - are serialised on my fiction blog which includes a second Fred Winter novel - Predisposed to Murder: http://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.co.uk/

Meanwhile...

I used to travel the UK giving poetry readings during the course of which I was invited to some lovely places and met some lovely people. Wherever I went, people would be busy photographing various beauty spots and aspects of nature that particularly caught the naked eye.  I rarely took any photograph as I was always too busy soaking in the atmosphere of a place, feasting on a history that nature has carefully archived and begs to be browsed. My inner eye would seek and find the raw material for a poem that would let me convey my deeper impressions of a place to share with others.

Every artist sees with his or her inner eye, whether writer, painter, musician, sculptor, whatever; the audience - reader, listener, observer - is thereby invited to do the same. So enjoy your photograph albums, but put your inner eye to work as well as your camera wherever you go. That way, we keep the felt as well as visual experience of places we have visited in mind and spirit always.

ZEN OF THE SEEING EYE
(For James Howard)

My skin is white, my skin is black,
fairer shades of yellow, darker shades of brown,
like leaves in milky sunshine come a storm
rearing like raging horses in heaven’s angry sea
for its children under threat, like me,
taking my cue from nature, mentor and guide,
only temporarily kept from harm
in the eye of a storm, sanctuary a fragile
prism of silence

My skin is white, my skin is black,
fairer shades of yellow, darker shades of brown,
like colours in a pallet before art
stakes its claim and transcends virginity
into a subtle blend of modernity
and spirituality comprising multi-aspects
of temporality stirred to direct
its inner eye to look and see, seek and find
what moves the human mind

My skin is white, my skin is black,
fairer shades of yellow, darker shades of brown,
camouflage for ingenuity and invention
though conspiracy and deception sometimes
making inroads where defences weakened
by a brooding inability to make the world hear
what we have to say, restore its pride
instead of some knee-jerk running away to hide
here, there, everywhere

Be fair to me in what or whom you think you see,
creative with even the plainer shades of humanity

[From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

The Zen of Self-Confidence

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

Family and friends don’t always understand that sexual identity is something we are born with; the only choice involved is whether we go with it or resist. Sadly, events beyond our control sometimes force that choice upon us before we are ready to make it; this can put intolerable pressure on any gay person. 

I did not do well at school and a teacher told me that I would never make anything of myself until I developed more self-confidence. "How do I do that, I asked?" "Start believing in yourself, for a start, Taber, and take no notice of those inclined to put you down because you are not as good at some things as they are. No one is good at everything, but we are all good at something. Focus on what you're good at, and the rest will come naturally." Well, it took a few years, but I got there in the end, and finally understood, too, that my being gay is an intrinsic part of who I am and no one but no one was going to put me down for it.

Wherever possible, it is always better (surely?) to take charge of our own life...or take it back, as the case may be....rather than let anyone else think they know what is best for us, however well-meaning they may be.

Did I say it was always going to be easy...?

THE ZEN OF SELF-CONFIDENCE 

Family and friends warned me against you,
said you were not a nice person to know,
that I was asking for trouble (it was so true)
and should keep my distance

After you called and we’d agreed to meet,
I confess I had reservations, but once
on your street and saw you (I arrived late)
these paled into insignificance

We talked as we walked slowly by a stream,
till consumed by the veils of a willow tree
where you took my hand (as if in a dream)
challenging my very presence

As you took me in your arms and kissed me
(well-intended warnings ringing in my ears)
so veils fell away, heart of the old willow tree
an epicentre of omnipotence

Your body offered far more than sanctuary
from demons pursuing me for years
as, passion for passion, our natural sexuality
laid claim to a godly inheritance

Earth Mother loudly applauding our decision,
love and season joined as one
in what was, is, and always will be a reason
to celebrate life’s magnificence

Let prejudice choose to see, say, do as it wills,
it knows little that dares not lift nature’s veils

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2016

[Note: First published under the title 'Epicentre' in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]

The Zen Of Counting Beans

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

Several readers have asked why I usually include the link to my Wikipedia entry on each blog post.  Well, apart from providing more info about myself and my work for anyone interested, feedback suggests that it also encourages readers to take me more seriously as a person as well as a poet given that poetry on a gay theme is rarely given either a good press or high profile.

I post most of my Gay Awareness poems on my general blog as well. One reader contacted me a few years ago to say I am ‘compromising the very integrity of poetry by using it to suggest that being gay is remotely respectable or can ever be acceptable in civilised society.’ Someone else has called me ‘a nobody with literary pretensions.’ On the other hand, most feedback appears to confirm that because the Wikipedia editorial team take me seriously, readers - especially gay readers who live in a gay-unfriendly environment - are more likely to take heart for knowing that the more serious sentiments expressed in my poems are not taken lightly by blog readers worldwide.  Now, anyone may disagree with them, of course, but at least they get a public airing. Oh, and if I manage to ruffle a few feathers along the way so much the better...

Having said all that, I just hope readers enjoy my poems and try to leave space in them enough for the reader to find his or her own way.

Meanwhile...

I am often asked to repeat this poem; it last appeared on the blog in 2010.  ‘Miles’ got in touch to say he had searched the blog archives but could not remember the title and the tags he tried came up with too many poems! Oh, dear. Well, here you are Miles, and I hope it cheers you up as it did me when originally inspired by a reader whose happy-ending tale is  related in the poem.

  

THE ZEN OF COUNTING BEANS

"I’m gay,"I told a mirror on the wall;

the mirror said nothing, nothing at all,

eyes staring at me filled with tears;

I felt older, much older than my years

and went downstairs

"I'm gay," I told the family at dinner;

No one said a word and only a clatter

of stainless steel on best crockery

broke a silence I thought must surely

last forever

"How can you be sure?" Mother said;

Dad sniffed and snorted, shook his head;

Bro swore aloud and Sis ate her greens;

I fought emotions way beyond my means,

and counted my beans

"You're sure?" Mother wanted to know;

I could only nod, put on as brave a show

of self-confidence as any ham,

suggest it’s no big deal, just how I am,

and why give a damn?

"Well," said dad, "what will be, will be."

(grabbed a handkerchief, sneezed noisily);

"Could be worse," Mother supposed;

Bro tossed a wink, now more composed,

and Sis praised the potatoes

Dinner proceeded much as it always had

and beans never tasted so good

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

[From: On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]