Close to Nature

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

Just when I don’t think I have another poem in me, Earth Mother takes me by the hand and takes me 

back through my life, good times and bad, the former prevailing, landfall a human spirit refreshed, revived and ready to take on anything life throws at it.

As a child, I had a strong affinity with nature until I became aware of homophobia and its being seen as 'unnatural' by many, including my own family. I felt unhappy, guilty, confused ... you name it ...and spent years in a lonely closet.  It took me awhile to understand that being gay is not what but who I am. 

Finally, I understood that I was as entitled as anyone else to feel close to nature. This realisation burst like a beautiful flower in me and continues to do so, especially at times, now and then, when I have doubts and start to wonder how my life might have panned out had I not been gay. All I have to do then is meet a bigot's eye, feel the same flower burst anew in me, and if they cannot see it for their own narrow mindedness, the more fool them. We are a common humanity, whatever our gender, sexuality, ethnicity, religion ... and the sooner more people see how our differences do not make us different, only human ... the sooner peace in every corner of the world really stands a chance.

CLOSE TO NATURE

As I walked in a wood

at twilight, a nightingale sang 

to me of days gone by,

and I found myself recalling

that first time I told the world 

I’m gay, and that’s how it is,

accept or reject me, your choice,

my life

The nightingale sang on,

about the good times and bad

such as everyone gets

to know (be they gay or straight)

so why the big deal

with sexuality? No harm done,

and bigotry doesn’t get to control

my life

Trees began a chorale

of love and peace as a sunset

pinked the sky,

and I found myself recalling

with a heavy heart

how we let prejudice and dogma

have their way with us, promising

a ‘better’ life

An audience of stars

watched as I wound my way

through the wood,

siding with me as I took my past

to task for a present

that only (ever) left me needing 

to feel there had to be a kinder way

of life

An owl flew overhead,

hooting its applause, all nature

(or so it seemed)

thrilled for my having turned away

narrow thoughts

and judgemental jibes, consented

to the sum of my selves demanding

a life

Darkness fell, and silence

no less bitter-sweet than a sense

of being alone

in a magical world where positives

cast long shadows

and negatives are as moonlight

on leaves of grass prettily lamenting

a life

It's the nightingale's song

re-awakes in me a stronger sense 

of being at one

with a natural world where positives

shine brighter even

than sunlight, negatives best left

to shadows as we let reality shape us

a life

Copyright R. N. Taber 2017

Body Positive

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

Both poems appeared on both blogs in 2012 - on World AIDS Day - but received little interest and views here over several years; eventually, inexplicably, it disappeared and I did not replace  although  its sister post continues to be well visited on my general poetry blog. The poems appear here again today at the request of a reader who says his life has been 'turned upside down' after revealing to family and friends not only that he is gay, but has also that he has been tested positive for HIV-AIDS. He feels "rejected to the extend that I am even having suicidal thoughts." 

I would urge anyone harbouring suicidal thoughts to call The Samaritans (116 123) if in the UK or email jo@Samaritans.co.uk as their email service extends beyond the UK; also search the Internet for LGBT support groups if no one springs to mind to whom you can turn. 

Some people in some countries remain actively hostile towards LGBT people and we can only hope that love and commonsense will prevail in the end. Meanwhile, we can but seek support from those loved ones and friends who continue to put humanity before any bigotry and give any inhumanity the contempt and cold shoulder it deserves. Having said that, it has to be said that some people do need more time than others to get used to revelations about which they genuinely had no idea; this is especially true where formative years have taken countless faux stereotypes to heart.

For many people, it is only when HIV-AIDS strikes close to home that they ask themselves questions they should have asked long ago, but saw no need, content enough to go along with the flow  of socio-cultural-religious bigotry and hypocrisy that continues to make itself felt in certain societies worldwide to this day.

BODY POSITIVE

Life, death!

Floods me, goads me,

leads me beside hot beaches

where I run, a dazzling sea

cheering me on, and I wonder

where the lark has gone

that fixed me so with its cheer

before abandoning me here

like a forgotten toy filled with joy

for its having all but played

me out before going about nature’s

own business

Life, death!

Calls me, galls me,

urges me back, back to you;

but we are gone,

the taste of us honey on my tongue

where we romped and played

like tots in make-believe, heading

barefoot among jellyfish

for the Punch and Judy man

who’ll make us laugh

if anyone can before the sun goes down,

our time forgotten

Life, death!

Overtaken us now,

beckoning. I’ll not rush my pace

for we’ve already run our race,

won a place among same stars enchanting

same lulling swell.

All’s well. One lost toy recovered

and taken home. Punch and Judy

in a packing case,

sleeping it off at some Bed and Breakfast.

I, filled with a night too exquisite for words

like those we shared...

Before AIDS

Copyright R. N. Taber 1996; 2012

[Note: A slightly different version first appeared in August and Genet by R. N. Taber (Wire Poetry Booklet series) Aramby Publishing,1996 and subsequently in various poetry publications prior to its inclusion in Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000.]

None of us, gay or straight can afford to be complacent...

Didn’t test to see if I was HIV positive,

I was scared,

then my lover asked me outright

and I lied…

thinking I wasn’t really lying, believed

I was okay

but the lie began to haunt me more

each night and day,

especially when in my arms he lay

his body in my trust

I should find out, I thought, I must

have a test,

I can’t go on pretending like this

even as we kiss

that there’s no virus in me I can pass on

(as if I would)

but I cannot answer for the unknown,

need to find out

be worthy of his love and trust

or we’ll never last

Eventually, I had the test, it was negative,

I was relieved,

then I asked my lover outright

and he cried...

swore he hadn’t known when we first met

but discovered since,

too scared to tell me in case I got angry

(as I’d been he might reject me)

so what could I do but hold him near

plant kisses in his hair?

 

Yes, we’ve had the test, my love and me,

it set us free

from doubt and fear because, together,

we are strong,

can deal with whatever this life

dishes us…

beats treading on our dreams, left alone

and up against it;

above all its blessings, place trust

or love will fail the test

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

Free Agents

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

In many countries LGBT people have won over our critics, but not everywhere and by no means everyone. Sadly, homophobia remains alive and kicking in all corners of all societies worldwide even where there is pro-LGBT legislation. I know/have met and/or worked with many genuinely gay-friendly straight people, but for every one of those, I know/have met and/or worked with a good many more die-hard homophobic people frequently playing lip service to political correctness while harbouring contrary opinions. I despise the latter for a bunch of hypocrites, often the product of a gay-unfriendly upbringing although many may yet (I have discovered) be open to constructive dialogue given the opportunity.

Most gay-friendly straight people are confident enough in their own sexuality not to have a problem with anyone else's. This, of course, begs the question, where exactly is homophobia coming from ...?

Some people, of course, will never get that love is a free agent with a mind of its own.

FREE AGENTS

As we walked down

my street together, you held my hand;

people flung us dirty looks

because they don’t understand

about falling in love

Outside our front door,

you gave me a big hug and kissed me;

passers-by passed rude remarks

because they really haven’t a clue

how it is to be gay

As I fumbled for my key,

you shouted to the street how you felt

about me, and neighbours

turned noses and fingers up at us

(it’s what they do best)

As I closed the door after us,

children playing hopscotch in the street

waved a cheery ‘hello’

as if warning us to take no notice

of their so-called‘betters’

Once inside, we ran upstairs

laughingly, carefree, still hand in hand,

shutting out a world

that doesn’t want to understand

gay men falling in love

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears under the title 'Gay Men Don't Do Stuffy' in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

Spring, Blueprint for Life OR Never, but Never Say Die

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

Spring may well be some way off yet here in the UK,but yesterday I spotted my first daffodils of 2020, and experienced a deep sense of relief that winter is all but done with us... for now, at least, although a winter of the heart is something else entirely.

Oh, my, how time flies! Scary, yes, but (as regular readers will know) I for one take reassurance in the fact that spring always follows winter…

Renewal, of course, includes reconciliation, not least with ourselves and consequently (hopefully) with each other and Earth Mother, both having a nasty habit of seeming to turn against us as winter proceeds, often harshly and uncaring, spreading discontent at every turn.

The genesis of this poem appeared in my secondary school magazine. I was aged 11 years at the time. (Are we really in 2020 already, and will I really be 75 later this year?) Oh, well, time waits of no one and we must make the best of what time we have, each in our own way, whatever our circumstances. 

Spring, too, may well rescue a human spirit in free fall; nor does religion  have a monopoly on spirituality since the human spirit may well choose a different path which we should attempt to understand before rushing to any judgement, especially given that our differences do not make us different, only human. (As good a reason as any for this poem appearing on both poetry blogs today.)

So what am I saying? Well, you'll have worked it out, I'm sure, but in case you are left in any doubt ... no matter what life forces are getting you down, never, but never say die. 

Yes, we do die, all of us, but, like nature all around us, we live on, and will return ... in the hearts and minds of others, a posthumous consciousness that may not be equal to the real thing, yet is just that in many ways; whenever we need a comfort zone or are mulling things though, we are most likely to turn to those whose opinions we value the most, whether they be alive or dead.

We all have our wintry days - at any time of year - we can but turn to the heart's ever-present springtime of happier, kinder memories ... for inspiration, hope, and regeneration.

SPRING, BLUEPRINT FOR LIFE or NEVER, BUT NEVER SAY DIE

In the air, a sense 

of renewal, everywhere,

bluebells ringing out 

their message of peace, 

love and rebirth,

imaging a passage of seasons,

(shortcut to Eternity)

where every human heart

dares share its secrets

with Earth Mother for all

Time will (as likely as not)

cajole us to forget

Oh, but listen, listen

to a global consciousness

forever intoning rites

in the wind, summoning

all ghosts of love

and peace to haunt our dreams,

revisit their seasons, feed us 

hopes laid low by winters

come and gone, restored to life

by the Spirit of Spring

urging us to enjoy its scents,

and follow, follow...

Humanity, unequalled

in the art of shadowing nature,

ever anxious to pass on

its secrets and discoveries

in theories, treatises, 

stories and poems generations

will tell, retell and embellish 

(as likely as not) in its archives, 

revealing a hint (at least) 

how taking advantage of nature

saw an unforgiving Earth Mother

seeing off its future

Spring, all things bright and beautiful,

blueprint for human potential

Copyright R. N. Taber 2002

[Note: Subsequent to its appearance in my school magazine at the age of eleven, the genesis of this poem also appeared under the title 'A Hymn to Spring' in an anthology, The Joy of Spring, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2001 and later in First Person Plural by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2002.]

Nature on Cue

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

Readers often get in touch to ask how they can obtain  a CD of my informal poetry reading on the 4^th plinth back in 2009 as part of Antony Gormley’s  One and Other ‘live’ sculpture’ project.

Sky Arts refused participants a CD of their contribution, but you are welcome to make a note of the link below that will take you to mine; leaving off my name will take you to the entire 2400 hours web stream now archived in the British Library:

http://www.webarchive.org.uk/wayback/archive/20100223121732/oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T  [NB:The British Library confirmed some time ago that the video is no longer available as it was incompatible with a new IT system, However, it still exists and BL hope to reinstate it and make it available to the public again at some future date.] RNT

Meanwhile…

It is never too early to start looking forward to spring if only to make the tail end of winter all the more bearable. Better sill, of course. something (or someone) might happen our way to fast forward a springtime of the heart even if not especially during its winter.

NATURE ON CUE 

At a fence observing

how lambs frolic without a care

in their world

Burden of love starting

to lift, rays of sunshine breaking

through clouds

Cart horses in a field

canter by, chasing after the same

pretty butterfly

Among spring leaves, 

fledgling brave-hearts egged on

by tree spirits

A bee humming our tune

darts away, as your hand reaches

out for mine

Time to take our cue

from the natural world's blessings,
count our own

Moving on, all spring

applauding us as we pause to kiss
by busy hedgerows

At the highway, jumping

back in the car, two gay folks happier

than once we were

Copyright R. N. Taber 2007; 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appeared under the title 'Spring on Cue' in Greater London Poets, Poetry Now (Forward Press) 2007 and subsequently Accomplices to Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007.]

Finding the Key OR The Amazing Tale of a Clockwork Mouse

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

I once knew a devoted couple, one of whom died of cancer. A few years later, my friend found someone new and they have been very happy together.  At a party, someone bitchily remarked, ‘How soon some people forget...’ 

My friend’s new love overheard, shrugged and said, ‘You never stop loving someone, but ghosts can’t even kiss. How boring is that?’

Beneath an awkward tittering, I sensed a general consensus that my friend had made a good choice.

One love can never be the same as another, and it is not fair on anyone involved to make comparisons.

As for me, my (only) partner and I had only a brief time  together and I never really fell in love again after he died, but I live for the love we had and have enjoyed my fair share of (real) kisses since. All the better, kinder, lasting life forces within me I take from that time we shared, even as I take my cue from nature's continuing predilection for renewal. I guess it took me awhile to realise that moving on doesn't mean leaving anyone behind.

 FINDING THE KEY or THE AMAZING TALE OF A CLOCKWORK MOUSE

I walked to the House of the Dead,

lifted the latch and went in,

saw a clockwork mouse on a table,

found the key, laughed as it ran

madly, freely, just as my first love 

and I had with each other

I lingered in the House of the Dead,

clockwork mouse for company,

let it run loose down Memory Lane,

breaking the circle trapping me

in the cancerous, cobweb confines

of a near empty room

I wandered the House of the Dead,

pausing in a bedroom one day,

made love with a ghost, implored it

to stay, but it left, fading away 

like a sunbeam, leaving only space

for a clockwork mouse

I departed the House of the Dead,

let the clockwork mouse go free

till it stopped short at Memory Lane

and saw no cause to turn the key

again, content to continue hopefully

into a slow, tearful dawn

Recalling the House of the Dead,

I see now where I went wrong,

overlooking the drive of life forces

running ever true and strong,

like shadows chasing sunbeams

all summer long

I return to the House of the Dead

now and then in restless dreams,

dance with a ghost on tricks of light

where nothing is as it seems;

of the clockwork mouse, not a trace,

only love in another place

Copyright R. N. Taber 2015; rev. 2020

Daydreamer

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

Today’s poem has appeared on the blog before and is a favourite of mine. I hope new readers will like it and regular readers enjoy becoming reacquainted.

Who can honestly say (gay or straight) they have never found themselves daydreaming about someone? It happens to me all the time, especially since  contracting prostate cancer in 2011 and consequently unable to enjoy sex after years of hormone therapy. There is far more to life than sex, though, so I(still) prefer to engage in positive thinking rather than lend my voice to the world's whingers.

If there is anyone more boring than a whinger, it has to be a troll; to those well-meaning readers who suggest I promote my poetry on social media, I can only say I left it in the first place because of trolls and have no intention of returning. Feel free, though, to give this e-address if you think anyone on Twitter or Facebook may be interested, and is not only there for a whinge or gossip:
https://rogertab.blogspot.com  (General)
https://aspectsofagaymanslifeinverse.blogspot.com/ (Gay-interest) 

https://rogertaberfiction.blogspot.com/2016/05/news-updates-fiction.html (Fiction)

DAYDREAMER

He sat at a table by the window

staring into space, eyes like dewdrops

on a bluebell among shadows

haunting the handsome face

like city kids playing among

spring flowers making a brave show

in window boxes

I lost myself in those eyes,

wandered territory unknown without fear,

guided by the sad sunshine of a smile

along trails I 'd never dare

for their twists and turns, nature

running wild, its call like the heartbeat

of a wilful child

We found each other and he took

my hand, gently pulled me to the ground;

our first kiss was like coming home

after long years away…

and he made love to me right there;

Oh, the beauty, the ecstasy, bitter-sweet

cruelty of despair!

Suddenly, he got up and went out in the rain;

I finished my drink and went home alone

Copyright R. N. Taber 2000; 2010

[Note: A slightly different version of this poem under the title 'Blue Eyes'  has appeared in several poetry publications , including my first major collection Love And Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001.]