Looking for a Good Result OR Gay in Kyrgyzstan

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

It is always very rewarding for any poet, but especially a gay poet like myself to get positive feedback from readers suggesting that at least some of my poems help to keep the flames of LGBT human rights alive where they currently give out little more than a show of light, let alone any comforting warmth. 

Same sex relationships are not illegal in Kyrgyzstan (Yes, I had to look it up on Wikipedia too!) but gay and transgender men and women are invariably given a hard time if they ‘go public’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 Sadly, it is not an uncommon story worldwide, even in (too) many parts of the supposedly ‘civilised’ West as demonstrated only too often by the less discerning among us (if discreetly) on a daily basis. 

“What freedom men and women could have, were they not constantly tricked and trapped and enslaved and tortured by their sexuality! The only drawback in that freedom is that without it one would not be a human. One would be a monster.” ― John Steinbeck, East of Eden

LOOKING FOR A GOOD RESULT or GAY IN KYRGYZSTAN

More mountains to climb, seeds to sow,

self-styled ‘betters’ needing to do (far) better

at listening to LGBT voices worldwide

If no human life meant to be lived alone,

trust love will find a way into any lonely heart

come in from the cold, the better to survive

Mind-body-spirit, towering above its critics

wherever needs must love be kept under wraps,

keyword, freedom, but a ghost on the street

In a world seeking to keeping up appearances,

hope springs eternal, likely to expose any enemy,

demand it cut and share keys to locked doors

Where wolves ever prowling flocks for a feed,

find a good shepherd on high alert night and day,

Earth Mother sharing watches, keeping faith

If the world is a jigsaw, may its pieces yet fall

into place, no self-interested powers-that-be trying

to make any wrong pieces pass for a good result

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2019

Undercover OR Gay in Saint Lucia

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

Although I don’t publish comment (good or bad) readers sometimes include their email address in the Comments box and I am always happy to reply. Such was the case only recently from a gay reader who felt he had no choice but to leave the paradise island of Saint Lucia in the Caribbean  because of an LGBT-unfriendly policy making such relationships likely to face a significant prison sentence on conviction.

Gros Islet and Rodney Bay as seen from Pigeon Island (Wikipedia)

This poem is a villanelle.

UNDERCOVER or GAY IN SAINT LUCIA

Calypso, bending the ear like no other,
an ages-old paradise for many,
where LGBT locals gone undercover

Trad cuisine, making the mouth water,
cherished customs running free;
Calypso, bending the ear like no other

LGBT rights making no one's agenda,
boasting fine schools and university,
where LGBT locals living undercover

A book failing to live up to its cover,
(heads in the sands of its history)
Calypso, bending the ear like no other

Apollo charging us to love each other
(prejudice as far as the eye can see)
where LGBT locals living undercover

For paradise, substitute an ivory tower,
rejecting gay and gender identity;
Calypso, bending the ear like no other
where LGBT locals living undercover

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

Home is a Closet OR Gay in Nairobi

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

I rarely visit gay bars these days, not least because I am 73 now and having to deal with various age-related health issues, arthritis and prostate cancer among them. Even so, I have always made a point of looking on the bright side of life and that will never change.  I have always enjoyed the convivial atmosphere of a gay bar, and felt safer there too. so am saddened that so many across London have closed in recent years.

Last summer, I happened to be in Soho and could not resist calling in at Comptons, one of London’s oldest gay bars. If you’re on your own and looking for a chat (or whatever) it’s not so easy to make eye contact with anyone these days as most people are glued to their mobile phones.  However, I did get chatting with two guys who were on holiday from Nairobi, and dreading their return given that  gay couples risk 5 to 10 years imprisonment in Kenya.

Kenya does not recognise LGBT rights so neither guy had dared confide in either their families or even many old friends. One mentioned that his mother was always saying ‘There’s no place like home’ adding ‘and don’t we know it!’ with such feeling, and a meaningful glance at his companion, that it brought tears to all our eyes. I asked if they had considered seeking asylum in a gay-friendly country, but both shook their heads and said they could not bear to leave their families behind in spite of everything.

International Conference Centre, Nairobi (Wikipedia)

African buffalo in Kenya (Wikipedia)

The poem is a villanelle.

HOME IS A CLOSET or GAY IN NAIROBI

Nairobi City, fine capital of Kenya

a thriving hub of business and culture,

no place for the gay or transgender

Brave vision of one, Jomo Kenyatta

(breaking free of colonialism forever)

Nairobi City, fine capital of Kenya

For all its bold, progressive agenda,

a success tale flowing on like its river,

no place for the gay or transgender

A feel for the pulse of all Africa,

the sightseer’s dream trip like no other,

Nairobi City, fine capital of Kenya

A National Park, hymn to nature,

diverse wildlife famous the world over;

no place for the gay or transgender

On the face of it, all one could desire,

growing population, heart beating faster;

Nairobi City, fine capital of Kenya,

No place for the gay or transgender

Copyright R N Taber, 2019

Nerves of Steel OR Gay in Karachi

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

The most important Human Rights award in Italy was awarded in December 2017 to a gay Muslim activist who was originally from Pakistan. The Italian Coalition for Freedom (CILD) chose Wajahat Abbas Kazmi as ‘Young Activist of the Year’

Wajahat Abbas Kazmi with notification of his award. 

(photo from the Internet)

Some years ago, I spent a very enjoyable evening in a gay bar where I met two guys from Karachi. I was pleasantly surprised as the only Pakistanis I had encountered previously were aggressive homophobes. Recently, I met up with them again while they were visiting the UK. It seems the tide is (very) slowly turning in Pakistan where there are more gay activists campaigning for acceptance and equality within the wider community than even just a few years ago. It is heartwarming news although always disquieting to discover that some parts of the world continue to disrespect Human Rights and get real about life in the 21^st Century. 

NERVES OF STEEL or GAY IN KARACHI

Nerves of steel, here, in Karachi

where life may take a cruel turn any day

such as we, savaged for our sexuality

Born a good person, and born free,

yet living a lie (since truth denied its say)

nerves of steel, here, in Karachi

Absurd, that any 21^st century city

should count among its taboos being gay,

such as we, savaged for our sexuality

Family, neighbours, look up to me,

yet mind-body-spirit as vulnerable as clay,

nerves of steel, here, in Karachi

Victims of a contemporary society

where majority bigots (even as they pray)

such as we, savaged for our sexuality

No regard for a common humanity

(of socio-cultural-religious icons an array);

nerves of steel, here, in Karachi,

such as we, savaged for our sexuality

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

No Case to Answer OR Gay in Brasilia

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

[Update, 9/1218: the recent election of far-right candidate Jair Bolsonaro as president of Brazil has sent waves of misgiving across gay and other minority groups. The world waits with bated breath to see what happens next.]

A reader living in Brazil has been in touch to say how much he and his partner enjoy living there. I have to say it makes a change to have someone send such a delightful, feel-good email; and it inspired this villanelle.

Cathedral of Brasilia 

(image taken from the Internet)

NO CASE TO ANSWER or GAY IN BRASILIA

Here, same sex couples live openly

far less looking over a shoulder in fear,

in this long-time LGBT-friendly city

Homophobes, a relative minority

(though just how many closets unclear);

here, same sex couples live openly

No closet approaches to sexuality,

Human Rights respected, and held dear

in this long-time LGBT-friendly city

While others fighting on for equality

(in a world whose prejudices made clear)

here, same sex couples live openly

Love poses no threat to that morality

that socio-cultural-religious groups revere

in this long-time LGBT-friendly city

Worldwide, a message for inhumanity

its peoples would do well to look-see-hear;

here, same sex couples live openly

in this long-time LGBT-friendly city

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

Coming in from the Cold OR Gay in Shanghai

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

There is room for cautious optimism for LGBT rights in China.

Raymond Can Chi-Chuen is the first openly gay legislator in Hong Kong and Greater China although Hong Kong remains a largely conservative society.

(Photo taken from the Internet]

Runners of the Shanghai Pride Run in June 2016 wore rainbow shoelaces at the start of the race:

https://foreignpolicy.com/2018/04/17/its-still-just-about-ok-to-be-gay-in-china/

Meanwhile, Gay Pride perseveres, and let's we wish everyone involved LOTS of luck, love and peace.

https://www.shpride.com/2018/05/20/priderun/?lang=en

This poem is a villanelle  

COMING IN FROM THE COLD or GAY IN SHANGHAI 

In China, gay couples battle on

to regain equality as of old

across a present-day population 

Though an historical observation

bring us in from the cold,

in China, gay couples battle on 

What motive in non-recognition

of Human Rights, put on hold

across a present-day population?

Unable to marry, no legal adoption,

frozen out Society’s fold;

in China, gay couples battle on 

Far less financial-legal protection

(in a State’s deaf-blind fold)

across a present-day population 

Though we gay folks but human,

must we still suffer rejection?

in China, gay couples battle on

across a present-day population

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018

G-A-Y, Days of Wine and Roses OR At Home with Sexuality

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

I am in my 70’s now and people often ask me if I regret not growing up with new technology, especially mobile phones. On the contrary, I see so many people preferring to engage with their phone than with the person/s accompanying them, even over a meal at a restaurant or on a night out with friends that I am grateful for small mercies.

The use of personal pronouns in my poems rarely refers wholly to first-hand experience/s; they comprise ‘borrowed’ experience/s, recall from chatting to people from all walks of life in bars, cafes, even at bus stops.  For me, it was a way of engaging with aspects of human nature on which all the arts turn; while my poetry has always been more of a creative therapy to keep depression at bay, it is nevertheless an art form deserving (no less than any other) that its author make an effort to become familiar with form as well as content.

You will not be surprised to learn then that much of my enjoyment in writing a poem lies in taking walks down Memory Lane and recalling conversations (if not always faces) that have helped shaped and reshape my approach to life. As to whether or not my poems succeed in passing on any of this, that, dear readers, is for you to decide.

"Perhaps home is not a place but an irrevocable condition."- James Baldwin, Giovanni's Room

  

G-A-Y, DAYS OF WINE AND ROSES or AT HOME WITH SEXUALITY

Mutely, you crept into my bed

and I froze, all of me, heart and soul,

fingers, thumbs and toes,

eyes tightly shut, dreams on hold

of what might happen

once open wide, acknowledging

your body close to mine,

caving to desires archived in denial

for years, words left unsaid

rounding on me (yet again) demanding

I turn over, face you, get real,

let our holiday hotel see the start

of our truly getting to know

each other all over again, kids no more

but the grown-ups we are

Your body closed in on me

and I could barely breathe for joy

of your invading my space,

entering a door in this body-mind-spirit

left ajar for emotions

such as these to surface, encouraged

by shared feelings engulfing me,
and (finally) giving bigotry

the old heave-ho whose acolytes

so love to gang up on us,
on the back of this or that social, cultural
or religious convention justified

only by tailoring dogma to address,

excuse and embrace all its prejudices
with a clear conscience

I turned over, opening eyes

(eventually) looking directly into yours,

holding your searching gaze,

hoping you'd discern what I was thinking,

(knowing for sure you could)

begging you satisfy a desperate longing

in me for you to break

with macho-man taboos, your lips

on mine, a kiss to end years

of making out we were just mates so we all 

but convinced ourselves

it was true, warding off any moment of truth, 

daring us accept the challenge

to all humanity, be positive about our identity 

or play patsy to conformity

I watched the certainty in your face

give way to old doubts, read new fears there

(would I reject him...?)

I had to take the lead if only to prevent tears

in his eyes brimming over,

inviting mine (not far away) drowning us both

in a sea of conflicting thoughts

threatening to force natural instincts back

into that hell we'd dreamed

of escaping on lonely pillows made for sharing

since schooldays when sexuality

had no voice in classrooms for fear of offending

parents whose notions of education

exclude bringing kids to such self-awareness
as encourages direct action

I took the plunge, held and kissed you,

all lingering doubts dissolving into nothingness,

instantly replaced by a fullness

second to none, two hearts now beating as one,

a sense of coming alive again

like nature in spring rain opening up to potential,

making Earth Mother offerings

of pink blossom, green leaves, petals pf daffodil

and tulip, shoots of grass passaging

mud and worms to give every human being cause

to rejoice in birth and renewal

instead of constantly maligning winter’s approach

to a dreary status quo 

feeding all manner of discontent to roots put down

with certain expectations 

The next day, we went for breakfast
holding hands, aware of assorted looks and stares
as well as a buzz of conversation
meant to intimidate us though failing miserably
because we were past caring
what others are thinking, we two ordinary people
having just discovered
how the art of being human deserves better than we
fake it for appearances sake,
as if there isn't  distress enough in the world
without imposing more
on men and women, boys and girls but endeavouring 
to get to know themselves,
as they make their own way in life not as mapped out 
by well-meaning ‘betters’

Years on, a photo of You-Me-Us on that holiday

continues to assert how it’s good to be gay   

Copyright R. N. Taber 2018