(Being) True to Life

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

Identity comprises many parts. We may consciously or subconsciously overlook even sexuality for all the others. (Wood and trees...)

In some parts of the world, gay people have no choice, in public at least.

Whatever, it is the whole that really counts. Or what have we been put on this earth for? Not to deceive ourselves, that’s for sure, even if circumstances beyond our control drive us to deceive others.

(BEING) TRUE TO LIFE

In the springtime of my years,
I felt something different about me
that set me a little apart
from other friends and my family
till April skies turned blue
where woods were alive and singing
songs of a love forever true,
even the pretty bluebells ringing
out loud and clear that day
for everyone to hear what I hadn’t
yet found the words to say...

Here I am, nor differently
but for a sexuality anxious to free
the ‘real’ me

In that springtime of my years,
I suffered such agonies of self-doubt
that it took a while before
I took that first step and came out
to friends and my family
and, true, they took time to get used
to the idea that I’m gay
but they were mostly okay about it
by the time I met a man
I thought I’d love forever and he, me
though it wasn’t meant to be

There I was, nor differently
but for a sexuality resolved to free
the ‘real’ me?

Come the cycle of advancing years,
I came to peace terms with life and love,
taking every day as it comes,
never quite daring to live my dreams
till autumn skies after rain
shone a rainbow on leaves of trees
in woods where I’d found out
just who I am and how life can be tough
for all its fragility,
a natural beauty ever shining through,
spring running true

There I was, nor differently
for whatever season of life might be
shaping me

Come the winter of my years,
having all but seen its seasons through,
travelled life's learning curve,
thought to find answers, sought to verify,
discovered even angels lie,
how needs must trust a still small voice
in the ear urging caution
rather than press on just to prove a point
beyond even absolution...
but though reason would often lose its way,
no regrets for being gay

Here I am, nor differently,
for life having all but done with me,
yet still free
  
Copyright R. N. Taber 2008; rev. 2018

World Choir

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

Once, I was walking in the town with a gay friend when he suddenly stopped, cocked an ear and told me too listen. Delightful as it was, I could only hear faint birdsong above the roar of passing traffic. "That isn't just birdsong," he said, "that's a choir of gay voices from all over the world determined to be heard whatever it takes."

We walked on...

That was years ago, but I can recall that moment as if it were but yesterday.

WORLD CHOIR

Years, they fly by
like swallows in the sky,
but within we’ll stay
as lively as we ever were
on that first spring day
(or could have been winter)
we joined a worldwide gay choir
born of Earth Mother

Years, they pass by
like cloud shapes in the sky,
our dreams on wing,
past Apollo and on to leave
wishes with a star
for a better world and kinder
where our differences won’t matter
more than who we are

Years, busy panning
powers that be always debating 
shades of grey
homing in on us now and then
like a cloudy day
if sure of finer performances
(Apollo inciting romance and kisses)
never left to chance...

Years, they fly by
like swallows in the sky,
returning to remind us
what goes around comes around
like that first spring day
(or could have been winter)
we joined a fine, worldwide gay choir,
our inner selves no older

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

Where Freedom Keeps Its Word

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

Today's poem has not appeared on the blog since 2010 and does not appear in my collections either; it is repeated here today especially for readers 'Abassi and Kwami' who need to keep their gay relationship a secret from their families because 'neither would approve or even begin to understand.'

Family should provide sanctuary for all of us, but this is not always the case. Love should not be a hiding place from family and friends, but something we are proud to share with them.  Nor does being unable to enter into such pride mean being ashamed; too often, it simply means being scared and/or unwilling to light a slow-burning fuse of confrontation that can only end in tears and worse.

I well recall how, years ago when anti-gay legislation here kept me in a cold, dark, closet; a love far removed from any feelings for family and friends was the only sanctuary on hand. 

Half a century on, I am estranged from my remaining family and have very different friends. It isn't a question of playing any blame game either, just the way it is. In some parts of this mad, mad world of ours, little has changed as far as LGBT rights are concerned; in law, yes, but while there may be  legislation for bad attitude, homophobia remains alive and kicking even in so-called 'civilised' countries.

Sad, but true...

WHERE FREEDOM KEEPS ITS WORD

We’d hide in craters of the moon

so no one would see our tears,

make love in craters of the moon

where no one could hurt us;
what eyes can't see, hearts less likely
to fret over

We’d surf the Milky Way on stars

empathising with our history,

welcomed by old gods and heroes

who had seen it all before,
saddened to see so much of humanity
as divided as ever

We’d come to Earth now and then

but found no comfort there,

humanity (still) refusing to engage

positively with its prejudices lest it lose
the argument

The day came, we quit the sanctuary

of night skies for high noon,

let the world know all we’d learned

from old gods and heroes, let ourselves
be seen and heard

Reassured by Apollo’s ready smile,

we showed the world our tears,

shared secrets about moon craters

where none could hurt us but in our own
hearts and minds

Be sure, time will return us to space,

where Freedom keeps its word;

humanity (still) refusing to engage

positively with its prejudices lest it lose
the argument

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010, 2012

Who Says ...? OR Standing Up for Sexuality

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

Here’s a new poem today if on a familiar theme.  Readers often get in touch to say they agonise about wanting to be open about their sexuality and thereby risking rejection by their religion. The main thrust of a conversation I had years ago during a serious crisis in my life springs to mind.

FRIEND: 'My faith in God has seen me through every crisis in my life, and it can do the same for you.'

ME:  'I have tried, but cannot relate to God or religion, maybe because I am gay and the religion in which I was raised has no time for gay people.'

FRIEND: 'I said faith, not religion. Religion is one way to help some people feel close to God, but it isn’t the only way. We van feel close to God in many ways. You say you feel close to nature. Who’s to say that you feel any less close to God than anyone else?'

ME: 'I can’t believe in God as religion says I should.'

FRIEND: 'All the more reason to trust your feelings. God is all things to all people. Just because we cannot bring an image of God to mind doesn’t mean there is no God. Religion does not have the right to suggest otherwise.'  

'Who’s to say your feelings for nature are not faith in a God you seem to reject?  Reject Him as you will, He will never reject you, and never let anyone tell you differently, whatever their religion or feelings about a person’s sexuality.'  

'God is not constricted by temporal criteria. Call the spirituality you take from nature simply a feeling for nature, nothing else, and God won’t mind.  As for religion, it can provide an important support network and help you feel closer to people as well as to God, but  it has no right to dictate how we  feel about God or whether or not we should choose to access that feeling through religion.'

'Faith is a passion, not just a word. Rejecting the word along with other religious ritual and rhetoric does not mean you have no faith.'  

'Trust your feelings, and that goes for your sexuality as well. Those who insist religion and homosexuality are incompatible may know the ins and outs of their religion, but they have no real feeling for God; they are just homophobes. however much they may protest to the contrary. Look at me. I'm a priest, and my feeling for people has never excluded or been any less warm towards gay people than towards anyone else, whether they can identify with God or not.' 

'God is no dictator and wouldn't have it any other way.' 

This poem is a villanelle.

WHO SAYS...? or STANDING UP FOR SEXUALITY

Who says we’re damned eternally

if to our birth selves we stay true

by standing up for our sexuality?

Even the wind keeps asking me, 

earth and sea, heavens too,

who says we’re damned eternally?

Let’s not be bullied into hypocrisy

(if beaten black and blue)

by standing up for our sexuality

The cleric offers deals on spirituality

(all this and Heaven too?)

who says we’re damned eternally

Hear them swear by all things holy

we embrace an ungodly taboo

by standing up for our sexuality

This huffing and puffing sickens me

(scares me sometimes too);

Who says we’re damned eternally

by standing up for our sexuality?

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

Alternative Transport

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

Today’s poem last appeared on the blog in 2010 and is posted today especially for readers ‘Jim and Philippe’ who are (like me) fed-up with people passing snide comments about not owing a car.

Now, people are often appalled by the fact that I don’t drive. Well, I live in a city so having a car is not essential. (It really isn’t!) I am happy to go along with the UK government’s drive to persuade everyone to use public transport more often. Even so, the Greener argument is not the only one that works for me...  

Public transport can be a real adventure.  Well, less of one or me these days, it’s true to say. I will be 67 later this year; not old, but let’s face it I have no partner and am not as young as I was either. Oh, but I’m not complaining. One way or another, I relive my life through poems where memory filters away the bad times and the good times continue to serve me well. Even in later years, they come back into play, those good times (e.g. a nothing special car drawing up alongside, a something special guy suggesting I jump in...) thereby encouraging me to add to the archives.

Now, why should an old dog learn new tricks when the old ones are such fun?

ALTERNATIVE TRANSPORT

We got chatting on a bus
in pouring rain, feeling bold

for no too-obvious reason,
cocking an ear to fairy tales
reworked by a pitter-patter

on the roof making us feel safe;

we chuckled, sharing a joke

or two, and it felt right to feel

comfortable with you

At your stop, I got off too;

we just laughed at getting wet

on a street you thought

was mine, I thought was yours,

took a while before we saw

this comedy of errors for what

it really was, not just fate
conspiring to bring us together,
but also our consenting

Another bus happened along

and dried our clothes, rumbling
ifs and whys of closet gays;

in his mirror, the driver winked,

saw clearer even than us

how (so) much happier we were

for (finally) getting it together,
two strangers on a single decker 

coming out to each other

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2012

[Note: An earlier version of this poem was posted on the blog in 2010 and appears in  A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.] 

All through the Night

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

I wrote this poem after the love of my life died some years ago. We only had a short time together, but our love sustains me still; he haunts my favourite dreams and whispers words of love and encouragement in my ear whenever I am feeling low.in my ear whenever I need 

As I grow old and having to sleep alone, there is no room in my heart for sadness, only his love. Moreover, having suffered regular periods of depression all my life, that love is the best defence against it I could have; time and again, it rescues me from the abyss where depression likes nothing better than to dump it victims. Love, of course, comes in all shapes and sizes; special people, places, even songs and pieces of music all play their part in helping to lift us when we are feeling so down, there seems to be no way up.

So when certain people from various socio-cultural-religious backgrounds try to tell me that gay people don’t know the meaning of either spiritual or physical love, I have only one reply..."Bollocks!" No love that is a part of us ever dies because it comprises the better part of us that we pass on to others among the better things we say and do...and so it goes on, and on, long after we, too, are gone.

You're right, this is not a gay poem as such, and why should it be? Love doesn't discriminate so why should we or, for that matter, a poem?

ALL THROUGH THE NIGHT

A bird sang in my garden as twilight fell;

what species it was, I could not tell,

but its song filled my darkening soul with light

and saw me all through the night

Came moon and stars to keep me company

and the bird, still it sang, as if just for me,

a song showing pictures of us to my inner sight

that saw me all through the night

Closer, dawn, new-old fears of another day

stubbornly failing to (quite) fade away;

moon and stars abandoning me to such a plight

as haunting me all through the night

Among the sun’s first rays, Apollo’s smile;

the bird, typically, came that last mile,

spreading peace and hope enough in a leafy sky

for a time to live and a time to die

Among even love songs heard or yet to hear,

none will sound sweeter to my ear

than of a bird whose species I couldn’t  make out

that once sang in my garden all night

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

[Note: An earlier version of this poems appears under the title 'Empathy' in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010]

Gay Gets Real

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

Even in the West, being openly gay is not as easy as some people try to make out; in other parts of the world it remains at best a taboo subject, at worst a criminal offence that can lead to incarceration in prison or worse.

Much depends on whether or not we grow up in a gay-friendly environment; a supportive network of family and friends can male all the difference. Sadly, not all gay people (could be anyone, anywhere) are fortunate to have this.

There are still far too many misleading and offensive stereotypes flying around that persist in attaching themselves to less enlightened minds among the heterosexual majority. We have come a long way since the dark days of my youth, but there is still much to do before being gay no longer has no stigma whatever attached to it in anyone’s mind.

Meanwhile, the more open we can be about the gay ethic and the fewer people that prefer not to stand up and be counted (for whatever reason)...so much the better for everyone.

GAY GETS REAL

I was but a moving image,

all substance gone,

yet convincing enough to pass

for a whole person;

my mouth let fly with words

for unperceptive ears,

limbs in sufficiently good order

for most labours

People looked into my eyes

and saw what they chose,

invariably a misplaced metaphor

for themselves;

beyond a conditioned will

to live up to its name,

my humanity was but a virtual

ploy in a computer game

Even when I discovered love

and found my own way

in life, it screwed up the works

for being gay…

or so I was told by webmasters

vying for my attentions,

but I’d escaped virtual mode,

ignored their directions

No longer a moving image,

all substance restored,

I see, smell, hear, speak, relate

to the world…

for all its frailties and failures,

and comprehend

how learning from its strengths

matters most in the end

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