Portrait of the Artist as a Young (gay) Man

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

Once I had a really awful nightmare. I was fifteen years-old at the time. None of my family knew about my awakening homosexuality. I did not feel I could confide in anyone because gay relationships were illegal at the time. Yes, I had found ways to explore my feelings with other gay youths and men, but it was pretty scary all the same.

My mother’s explanation was basic, but very much to the point. She explained that dreams, even bad ones, are a safety-net for feelings we cannot explain or put into words because, for whatever reason, we have no conscious grasp of their wider implications. We might be in denial or grappling with emotions on the surface without really and/or truthfully understanding or acknowledging their depth. While good dreams can be inspirational, bad dreams are nothing to fear because (she assured me) the Sandman is always on our side and has our best interests at heart.

As an adult, I still take reassurance from the fact  the sandmen are on my side even if it took a good few years for me to be convinced.

PORTRAIT OF AN ARTIST AS A YOUNG (GAY) MAN

A blackbird flew me into dawn’s
early glow, and together we discovered
where the Sandmen go;
gathered under a rainbow
among sunbeams, mixing its colours,
painting our dreams

Mind and body told me I should leave
without delay; in my dreams, he alone
would have the last say;
I couldn’t pick and choose
from the best, no artist dare ignore
the worst

The blackbird would have flown on
into the day, but I was having none of it,
would have my say;
How could a Sandman
always get it right, invade free spirits
each night?

‘Ah,’ said the Sandman, ‘it’s for you
to find your own way through the rainbow
to what lies behind;
the human spirit is a complex affair,
heaven forbid we should either prompt
or interfere.’

‘A human being is a unique creation,
free to fly at will, nor are we its keepers;
we can but try
to offer ways of seeing
the inner eye can observe, inspiring
hope and endeavour.’

‘Yet, humanity is but a fragile thing,
despite hidden strengths that will see it
right as often as not,
and it is down to us Sandmen
to see where it’s broken, pieces fallen,
patch it up

Blackbird dropped me there, left me
but half awake to ponder the implications
of daybreak,
and I thought I heard
it singing out there, where it’s a Sandman
has the last word

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

A (Gay) Poet's Take On Stoicism

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Only recently, I was chatting to someone in a cafe who, after a while, asked me if I am gay. When I answered in the affirmative, he confided that he, too, is gay, but scared’ not only of coming out to family and friends he had reason to suspect would not be supportive, to say the least, but also of his understanding of the whole gay ethic. ‘I’m not sure I want to live a gay life,’ he told me.

So what is a gay life? For goodness sake, apart from our sexuality, we live no different a life, for better or worse, than those among the heterosexual majority. Being in a minority may mean we have to work harder to assert ourselves more often than not, but my gut feeling is it’s only human nature to be up for this challenge or that. Moreover, the human spirit does not suffer fools gladly.  

Let’s face it, even being actively closet, in those countries in the southern hemisphere whose governments continue to hold a candle to the ignorant ramblings of various socio-cultural-religious bigots, is not only a challenge but is also knowingly and invariably bravely sowing the first seeds of a deservedly inauspicious end for our enemies.

So let’s go for it, yeah?

A (GAY) POET’S TAKE ON STOICISM

Temptation drove me to cliffs,
where I contemplated rocks below,
despairing of such an end as this,
seemingly no place else I dare go;
the cliffs, they yelled defiantly
above the furious roar of a raging sea;
their words struck a chord in me,
Life and Death vying for my sanity

Nature raised a Gorgon's head
like a devil among the monstrous foam,
wishing me ill (better still, dead)
resolved to turn my better self to stone;
Love it was that had other ideas,
and joined the battle for my salvation,
converging on my worst fears,
blasting them with ancient canon

Life ill-deserves such derision
as to be tossed in a storm’s fierce jaws,
the consequences of our action
condoning betrayal of all natural laws;
where nature vents its fury
on lesser humanity’s short-sightedness
to colour, creed, sex or sexuality,
let' stand firm, reconcile differences

I answered Love’s call that day,
and the sea began to calm, the sun shine,
dark clouds steadily driven away,
like prejudices (eventually) in decline
while I returned, my corner to fight,
argue the ages-old case for sexual identity,
expose myself to human right,
walk tall, proud, confident and free

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

Woman, Gay Man's Best Friend

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

Many thanks to those readers who have been in touch to say how much they enjoy my YouTube channel:

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

Meanwhile...

Some readers tell me I should invest my poetry with more humour. Well, there is a wry humour in many of my poems if you happen to be in the mood to catch it. Or maybe you would prefer something more up-front, like this...?

WOMAN, GAY MANS BEST FRIEND

Once upon a time, I tried to go straight,
even went out on a female date;
she sort of liked me, and I felt the same,
but the chemistry wasn’t there
so (oh, dear) we just settled for a game
of strip poker

Needless to say, she got the better of me,
but, oh, how we laughed helplessly
till I blurted out blushing, ‘I think I’m gay’;
she just told me to get dressed,
poured two stiff drinks that saved the day,
and I confessed

I told her about a gorgeous guy in my office
and how I’d tried not to notice,
how he stares at me when I thinks I’m busy
so won’t get any ideas,
but (oh, dear) I already had plenty, mostly
in my trousers

She said I should chat him up without delay
since the chances are we’re both gay,
better (surely?) grasp the proverbial nettle,
and let human nature do its job,
no matter if it means I play teapot to a kettle
on the hob

So I took her at her word and caught his eye,
let him see, if he was lusting, so was I;
to my undisguised delight, she’d been spot on,
and soon we were enjoying our first date,
the irony being, it had taken a pretty woman
to bring us out

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

Millions Like Us

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

Let some people say what they will, there is nothing ‘unnatural’ about being gay. Nor are we select products of our environment. We are human beings and no less natural for being gay than if we were (heaven forbid) straight. We come into the world this way and bigots should keep in mind that we are (or should be) a common humanity, whatever (and wherever) our socio-cultural-religious roots.

As I have said time and again on the blogs, and written poems on the same theme, sexuality has to be in the genes or how else can we explain that there are gay, homosexual, queer people (what's in a name anyway?) world-wide from all manner of socio-cultural-religious backgrounds? Furthermore, history tells us that many gay people have made a valuable contribution to the arts and sciences, so that hardly justifies the bigots and religious fundamentalists dismissing us for not ticking the right boxes. [Who wants to tick theirs anyway?]

In other words, we’re all in the same boat and if the boat is top heavy, no one is going to use our sexuality as a reason for our being the first to be thrown overboard. Just let them try, yeah?

Sexuality is only a part of our whole identity; it is the whole that counts. How would the socio-cultural-religious homophobes (by any other name) among us like it if we were to all but ignore everything about them except for their having drawn the heterosexual straw in the womb?

For anyone interested you can hear me read today’s poem on Brighton beach back in May for my YouTube channel. Incidentally, the camcorder we were using was stolen and I replaced it with an updated version of the same model that seems to work much better. We have recently improved recordings further by using a digital Dictaphone, but can only use this for voice-overs. I love recording on location, but we don’t have top of the range equipment (more like the reverse) so have to hope for the best. A number of viewers have been in touch to say they enjoy my YouTube channel while Graham and I have great fun making the videos so that’s good enough for us. Moreover, reading the poems and editing the videos has been a very enjoyable learning curve for Graham and me so look out for more as time goes by.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XxDfd2Pxqic

If the link doesn’t work, go to my YouTube channel. Click on ‘see all’ and scroll down to Brighton in May (3):

http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

[OR (updated 2012) simply click on the video below in which it is one of two poems I read.]

This poem is a kenning.

MILLIONS LIKE US

I am but one among many
sometimes pushed into a corner
or against a wall,
nor does Earth Mother always hear
when I call on her
to referee a fair fight, whistle them
downwind who seek
to wipe me out, cast doubt
on my birthright

I can but catch the tears
Earth Mother lets fall for failing me
sometimes, wash myself clean
of the world’s blood, sweat and dirt
staining my shirt,
pick myself up again, smile
in the face of adversity,
signal to my enemy that I am not
discouraged easily

I take hope and inspiration
from Earth Mother’s heartfelt concern
for all her children,
vulnerable as some of us are
to humankind’s dark side, especially
the likes of me,
frowned upon by a majority
bent on playing up to temporal ‘norms’
and a fragile spirituality

Call me out, who puts the ‘I’ in Identity,
the gene nature lets speak for sexuality

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009

[Note: This poem will be included in my collection Tracking The Torchbearer scheduled for publication in February/March 2012]

I am Stonewall, Making the Case for a Common Humanity

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

Sunday, June 28, marks the anniversary of the Stonewall riots in 1969, the event largely regarded as a catalyst for the LGBT movement for civil rights in the United States.  The riots inspired LGBT people throughout the country to organise in support of gay rights, and within two years after the riots, gay rights groups had been started in nearly every major city in the United States. 

Gay history has made us who we are. We, in turn, continue to make gay history with every positive step we take in its name. It is as much a part of gay people as the history of art, literature, music, sport...whatever it is that matters most to us in so far as we recognise it has helped shape the multiple facets of our identity for the good.

There will always be those bigots who love the sound of their own voices and will loudly insist that homosexuality is not a force for good. Oh, and bigotry is...?

This poem is a villanelle.

I AM STONEWALL, MAKING THE CASE FOR A COMMON HUMANITY

It’s no small part of me,
aches along with ageing bones
would set my spirit free

Even nature’s poetry
cannot gag its cries and groans;
it’s no small part of me

Alive to my sexuality
that an ages-old bigotry disowns,
would set my spirit free

Haunted by dark misery,
morality’s love for hurling stones;
it’s no small part of me

Yet, there is creativity,
uniting even the world’s religions,
would set my spirit free

An inspired spirituality
configuring a common humanity;
it’s no small part of me
would set my spirit free

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011

Philanthropists

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

Although I am not a religious person, I respect the beliefs of others. As for God, I am not exactly closed minded on the subject, but take what I feel as a strong sense of spirituality from nature, not religion. I grew up with religion and it did nothing for me except except torment me by making me feel a freak because I am gay. Nature makes me feel good about myself, so - rightly or wrongly - I will stick with nature. I am no atheist, though, and maybe nature and what we call God are the same...who knows?

A friend for whom religion is a huge part of his life and personal identity once asked me if I thought religion was 'big enough' to accept a gay person. I lent him a DVD called 'Rock Haven' about a young Christian struggling to reconcile his religion with being gay. It is a beautiful film.

Religion should never be confused with spirituality. The latter is by far the stronger and its pull by far the greater. When it comes to making the right choices, especially in matters of the heart, there is no place for misplaced guilt of the kind often imposed by those who profess to have our best interests at heart, but only according to some socio-cultural-religious criteria that is even more misplaced.

Christian, Muslim, whatever...we are as we are born, and if we believe in a God that is helping to shape body, mind and spirit then how can anyone believe he or she deserves rejection for this same God's shaping that part of us that happens to be gay. I don't, never have, and never will. Yes, there is an integral part of me that cannot relate to any religious dogma or ideology, but that has nothing to do with my being gay.

Where religion and love are seen to be at loggerheads, love is rarely if ever to blame.

PHILANTHROPISTS 

The sky was grey, sea even greyer
as we walked on a beach one summer
excavating layer upon layer
of mixed feelings for one another;
we were in love, on that we agree,
but you saw your relationship with God
under threat and a greater need
for that than nurturing love’s seed

‘God is love, ‘I put it to you in tears,
touching on a wisdom beyond my years,
desperate to allay your worst fears,
sensing I was losing you to The Others;
I tried to convince you with a kiss
that no benign God would begrudge us
a peace of mind and happiness
sullied by secrecy for anxious centuries

I saw your fearful glance at a cloud,
its rage bearing down as if speaking aloud
what others in that ugly crowd
were silently praying to some bigot God;
suddenly, the sun came out to play,
slowly but surely chased the clouds away
as white horses in a sea no longer grey
reared as if saluting us, though we be gay

You saw it as a sign of God’s philanthropy
as I thanked Earth Mother for rescuing me


Copyright R. N. Taber 1966; 2010; 2017

]Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]

A Spelling Lesson

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

Family, lovers, friends, colleagues...we are all only human, and it is a sad trait of human nature that we don't always see the wood for the damn trees.

Now, I often repeat poems a year or so after their first appearance on the blog for those readers who don’t have time to browse the blog archives due to other commitments or only have access to a public computer. I try to vary the preamble, but in this case I find myself duplicating the original post from 2009 almost word for word. It is as if my feelings on the subject are so strong that I cannot find a different way of expressing them.

Happy is not a word we hear often enough as we get on with our daily lives.

I well recall how, years ago [I'd have been about eight or nine years old] we kids were taught to sing a lively song at Sunday School; the lyric went like this:

I’m H-A-P-P-Y,
I’m H-A-P-P-Y,
I know I am,
I’m sure I am,
I’m H-A-P-P-Y

Only, it was a lie. I wasn’t happy at all. I fretted about that song for years. How come, I'd wonder, everyone was happy except me?

I should say that didn't have an unhappy childhood, but problems at school, a hearing problem no one picked up on and an appalling relationship with my father meant that it wasn't a particularly happy one either. As I got older, I then had to tackle the question of my sexual identity in a climate that was very anti-gay. If my childhood was difficult, my youth and young manhood were a total nightmare. None of my family would have understood, even my mother at the time. Thank goodness I discovered the twilight world of gay sex to keep me sane. Well, sane’ish... I siffered from depression for years, and syill do, although childhood depression was rarely if ever recognised for what it was years ago. It should have come as no surprise that I had a severe nervous breakdown in my early 30s.

While I am not bitter (well, not any more, just profoundly sad) I often wish someone had taken the trouble to ask me how I felt. It is good that adults listen to children and young people more these days. Perhaps if someone had asked me, it would not have taken so many years before I could relate to the words of that song...

A SPELLING LESSON

In the garden every day.
I’d tell my love I’m gay,
but my love would not hear,
my love was never there,
my love would be humming
pop songs in the car
on the way to or from work,
glancing at the office clock,
pausing at this task or that
to keep the cat, dog or budgie
happy

In the garden, I’d find a way
to tell my love I’m gay
and we’d lie in a bed of grass,
returning kiss for kiss
while rediscovering ourselves,
reinventing ourselves,
learning to show our feelings,
share them, let passion take
its course, tear off the clothes
a heart but hires to keep a body
happy?

The day came, I found a way
to tell my love I’m gay,
heard the words I longed to hear
whispered in my ear
and we lay in a bed of grass,
returning kiss for kiss
while rediscovering ourselves,
reinventing ourselves,
learning to let
love alone get us high,
be H-A-P-P-Y

Copyright R. N. Taber 2011