Sex, Lies and Stereotype

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

Most if not all gay men and women remember the horror of that damn closet, whether we are there for a long or short while. It has to be one of the 21st century’s greater tragedies that many gay people stay there all their lives because certain judgemental societies and/or socio-cultural-religious factors in the home continue to work against our Human Rights world-wide.

This poem was retrospective when it was written in 1995 following an exchange of closet anecdotes among gay friends, and is as relevant today as it was then.  Only a few months ago, here in London, I saw two young men kissing in a crowded gay bar that, according to the person standing next to me who pointed them out, had been with a ‘butch’ crowd he’d known since schooldays that regularly yelled homophobic abuse at him in the street. Obviously, they hadn’t yet realised that it really isn’t ‘in’ to be with an in-crowd that’s very much the wrong crowd. 

Mind you, I’ve often wondered about openly homophobic types. As Shakespeare, might well have said, methinks they do protest too much...

SEX, LIES AND STEREOTYPE

Billy was a shy boy

who lived in my hometown,

did well at school,

never played the fool,

had a voice as thick as honey,

kept his head in a book;

that first time he smiled

and said ‘hello’ I didn’t quite

know where to look

Early one morning

I went fishing at my special place;

Billy was already there,

tongues of red hair licking

at my face as I told him

to go, the sacrilege all his,

but he stood his ground;

I flung him down, a heat in us

rising like the dawn

Our lips brushed

as if meant, his sweet body sighed;

mine paused, replied

until spent, spiritually content

for finding sanctuary

in the lap of a songbird,

no willows weeping

or fish biting nor any hint

of unease or dissent

Down at the pub

one evening, drinking with the lads,

poised to win at darts,

my girl cheering … Enter Billy

with a mate, and I score

a bull! Crowd’s roaring my victory,

my girl adoring me

as I'm drowning in a swell

and, oh, so hurting ...

like hell

Copyright R. N. Taber 1995; 2012

[Note: Thus poem has been revised from an earlier version that has already appeared on the blog and in  my first collection,  Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]

Deliverance

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

Some people are in denial of sexual identity. In my case, years ago, I felt like a character in the wrong novel, being made to fit a story line to which nothing about me could relate, so how on earth was anyone else supposed to?

Most of us have been there, for a while at least. It is worse than being in prison because there are no bars on windows or locks on doors, only a growing desperation to be somewhere else.  Oh, we can play the blame game for as long as we like regarding the unfairness of being where we are, but we have no one to blame for staying there except ourselves.

True, world religions and various cultural 'taboos' don't exactly encourage gay people to think well of themselves, but think well of ourselves we should. We do not chose to be gay, it has to be in the genes or else there would not be millions of us around the world. Choice comes with whether or not we look the world in the eye or let it browbeat us into staying in a cold, lonely closet.

DELIVERANCE 

Heart heavy, sight dim

after years of pain, searching

for whom I so yearned

to give my life meaning beyond

getting up every morning

and going to bed at night, plotting

ways and means to get through

he next day, nothing going right,

like a character in a novel

crying to its creator for deliverance

from conventional fiction

wasted on caricature left craving

a gay storyline

Heart light, seeing clear

now there’s you to give me purpose,

a joy I never knew

although in my dreams I’d kiss you,

feel your arms close around

my trembling body, hacking away

at caricature, setting me free;

Now, letting a finer spirit course me,

lending the strength of two

so I may love you too; no pulp fiction

sucking up to society’s gripes.

but drama-documentary dispelling

its stereotypes

Gay love, some (still) say, is a lie,

but we know better, you and I

Copyright R. N. Taber 2004; 2012

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears on the blog as well as in 1st eds. of The Third Eye by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2004.]

Three Little Words

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

After posting this poem in 2010, reader ‘Gerry’ got in touch to say that it inspired him to propose to his boyfriend. Subsequently, they had a civil partnership last spring. No such reports lately although
...who knows? It's Valentine's day tomorrow, after all.

Ah, but  when you're in  love, gay or straight, it's as the song says, every day is Valentine’s Day...

THREE LITTLE WORDS

Three little words, all I had to say

but dare not, day after day…

My heart ached each time I tried

so crossed my fingers and lied…

It hurt, each time you looked at me

as if urging I speak, break free…

Yet three little words I could not say

though loving you more each day…

My soul cried out in bleakest despair

so I shut my ears, tried not to hear…

I died when you heaped praise on me,

the coward in me you could not see…

Three little words, all I had to say

but dare not, day after day…

There had to be more to life than this

growing empathy with Judas…

To family, friends, at last I came true;

no problem, love won through…

Three little words, I’m so proud to say

day after day, ‘I am gay’

[From: Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]

Putting the World to Rights

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

Two Christian guesthouse owners who were ordered to pay damages after refusing to allow a gay couple to stay in a double room lost their appeal here yesterday. Could it be that, regarding sexuality (in some parts of the world at any rate) it is putting itself to rights at last?

Everyone has right to their own religious beliefs, but no one has the right to impose them on others. Besides, I may not be a religious person, but I know my Bible, and Jesus of Nazareth is not portrayed as someone likely to condemn anyone for their sexuality.

Don’t these ‘devout’ Christians know their New Testament at all? So many seem to have lost the plot altogether. For example, whatever happened to the ‘love thy neighbour’ bit? Not that certain Christians are alone among certain followers of certain world religions when it comes to losing the plot...

One thing is certain though. There will always be wonderful people in the world who possess quality sure to get the better of any socio-cultural-religious prejudices without having to resort to either compromise or deception; it is called commonsense.

This poem last appeared here in December 2010 and I have since slightly but significantly revised it. Reader ‘Jermaine’ has asked me to repeat it for his boyfriend, ‘Dave’, whom he met in The Black Cap gay pub in Camden Town, London  NW3 a year ago today. I only go there occasionally these days, for old time’s sake, but have some wonderful memories of that pub, and recommend it to everyone.

PUTTING THE WORLD TO RIGHTS

We met at a pub in Camden Town,
having arranged it on the Internet,
but for a while weren’t even sure
if we liked each other, never mind
up for sex

After failing to put the world to rights,
we felt far less wary of each other;
I began to feel attracted to a fullness
of lips, growing sensuousness of body
language

The more he talked, the less I heard,
a gleam in each eye distracting me,
and several shirt buttons left undone
inviting me to caress the bronzed flesh
within

By the time we got round to deciding
who should go to whose for coffee,
all I wanted was to slip under a duvet,
let him enter me, make good the poetry
of imagination

No duvet greeted me, but sheets of satin,
caressing my body even before his turn
to feel his way through the dark passages
of my self, guilt blocking every attempt
to come clean

He persevered, took me to the climax
of my fears, let flow waters of the earth
to succour this lonely self, left for dead
by those who insist it’s a sin for one man
to love another

If love means breaking ties that bind
generations, let’s have no reservations;
love is far too precious a gift to throw
in the face of a fate that wants the best
for us all

We gay folks love to be just as close
to family and old friends as anyone else,
but there’s a love we place even higher,
and it’s a foolish person caves in to those
denying us that

Copyright R. N. Taber 2009; 2011

[Update: This poem appears in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

Mind-Body-Spirit, in Safe Hands

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

This week, St. Petersburg is pushing forward a law that would make it illegal for any person to write a book, publish an article or speak in public about being gay, lesbian, bisexual or transgender, and calling it "homosexual propaganda". St. Petersburg's Mayor Poltavchenko, President Medvedev and Prime Minister Putin are all pushing for a law that is more than an abuse of Human Rights; it is an insult to humanity. 

The poem last appeared on the blog in March 2010. As the UK is currently experiencing a very cold spell, you can hardly blame me for recalling a memory/poem to keep me warm... Moreover, I am dedicating it to all our brothers and sisters across the whole of Russia and beyond; any suggestion that someone should ever be persecuted for their sexuality is a stain on civilisation, but especially to the extent we have seen in parts of Africa, in Uganda for example.   

It just goes to show shows how bloody minded and ignorant some world governments can be. Come to that, I don’t recall reading or hearing anything about this sickening proposed anti-gay legislation in Russia here in the UK...

To all my Russian blog readers, a BIG HUG, and good luck! Мы думаем о Вас всех (I hope that is how you say, We are thinking of you all.

MIND-BODY-SPIRIT, IN SAFE HANDS

You dived under my top,

tongue on nipples aching with desire;

hands at my jeans would not stop,

my whole being on fire

I longed to respond, could not

(for too long told it’s wrong, obscene)

as you invaded me with your heat,

pulled my jeans down

My heart tore like an express

along twisting tracks of denial, regret,

embracing years of loneliness, pain,

on a rack of ages-old guilt

Slowly, I let go all hype

imprinted on my heart, soul, brain;

rose above the stereotype,

learned to live again

Once mere pieces of clay,

we discovered sex, no truths held back;

though some protest, as they may,

let them to their own lives look

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2018

[Note; this poem first appears under the title 'Fast Tracking' in Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]

Chance Meeting

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

[Update Jan 25th 2019]: More on The Black Cap in the campaign to re-open one of the oldest gay venues in the UK:

https://www.change.org/p/the-new-owners-of-the-black-cap-reopen-the-black-cap/u/23937802?s_tk=Agc3wqRCQSleAdq6TVwAAXicyyvNyQEABF8BvLQoloI6mH74pLuPk0flDZU%3D&utm_campaign=e4e4164373794ef48ed0205e9aaee85e&utm_medium=email&utm_source=petition_update&utm_term=cs 

Fingers crossed... as too many gay bars are closing. Meanwhile, homophobia is alive and kicking. Gay and gay-friendly men and women will always need somewhere to meet, drink, and have fun in a safe environment. There are plenty of us, for goodness sake. No gay bar needs to go to the wall.]

Meanwhile...

Now, although gay relationships were decriminalised here in the UK in 1967, it was not until the late 1990's that attitudes began to soften towards us.  I have to say that now I have that sinking again as multiculturalism is slowly but surely turning the clock backwards. Regular readers will know that I have nothing against multiculturalism in principle; on the contrary, I would welcome it with open arms, but for the fact that so many people from various socio-cultural-religious backgrounds have not only brought their native prejudices - including homophobia - to the UK but also appear to be nurturing them; if it is a minority, it is a very significant and increasingly vocal one. Thank goodness for an openhearted, open minded majority, and long may it remain one.

Now, time spent looking for close encounters of the intimate kind can sometimes result in BIG disappointments. (Oh, and how!) Ah, yes, but it only takes one unforgettable moment on one unforgettable occasion with one unforgettable person to make up for all of them...

CHANCE MEETING

In a smoky gloom,
I watched you standing there,
idly running cruisy fingers
through hair kissed by stray sunshine
flickering through shutters
set to glower the world outside,
nursing us on the inside
to a comfortable anonymity,
and you glanced at me
then flung your eyes back into a pool
of drowning men
shrieking so if silently for rescue
despite dog-paddle gestures
defying their distress like the rhythm
of a hit pop song pulling at heart strings
repudiating our loneliness

Gathering up a casual air,
I spoke to you, let the lilt of your voice
wash over me like a friendly
shower after a bad dream as we talked
comfortably while loud music
screened all ghosts from us, inciting
a temporary deliverance;
we went outside into a gentler
conspiracy of noon sounds
urging us to hurry to a kinder place
where my hands may freely frame
your face, my lips on yours, your body
answering mine, all threat receding,
life forces we had all but given up on
now reconciling with body, mind and spirit,
turning us inside out

Copyright R. N. Taber 1998; 2012

[Note: This poem has been (slightly) revised from an earlier version that has appeared in several poetry magazines before and since I included it in 1st eds. of Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.] 

Dearly Beloved

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

Yes, I know I said posts would be intermittent for a while because I am so busy preparing my new collection for publication by the end of February/early March. However, I do so love writing up the blog that I try to make time for it most days. Besides, I am not well at the moment and communicating with you all helps me feel a lot better.

Now, this poem last appeared in the spring of 2010 and has always been popular with readers.  I have been asked to repeat it for new and regular readers today by ‘Mauricio’ especially for ‘my very own beloved invader, ‘D P’. He doesn’t give a first name but I dare say D P will recognize himself.’

DEARLY BELOVED 

When you entered my body,

passion, heat and desire

throbbing at the very fingertips,

I thought I was surely dying

to come so close to heaven

on an earth ravaged by pain,

even the flowers hurting from

a steady fall of acid rain

When you entered my body,

passion, heat and desire

foaming at a full, sweet mouth,

I thought I was surely blessed

to feel the arms of an angel

embracing me with such love

and more, in a world so haunted

by poverty, hunger, terror

When you entered my body,

passion heat and desire

coaxing me to glorious orgasm,

I learned to know myself,

freed at last from fear and doubt,

like a flower whose petals

stayed shut, until nature’s need

to come out…

Oh, dearly beloved, thanks to you,

every love poem I write rings true

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2018

[Note: This poem has been slightly but significantly revised from the version that appears in Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007]