Between Friends OR Mind-Body-Spirit, Shades of Light and Dark

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber4

Covid-19 has been stressful for everyone, no less so for young people, free spirits who feel trapped by various degrees of lockdown imposed around the world. While most young people find creative ways of dealing with stress, tragically some turn to drugs.

This poem first appeared on the blog in 2014, and can still be found in my gay-interest poetry blog archives.  Although feedback suggests that few straight readers visit my gay blog, yet again someone  who describes himself as a “regular reader of all three blogs” has asked me to post a poem here that he found there while browsing. It appears that this reader's brother died from an accidental drug overdose only a few years ago, after being encouraged by a group of ‘friends’ to try a heroin fix; he was just 21 years-old.

I once had a friend who became a heroin addict in his late teens and died from an overdose in 1967. 

My friend was 22 and happened to be gay, but same sex relationships were illegal in those days and the stress this put him under was almost certainly a contributory factor. Drug abuse is a tragedy for too many young people - gay, straight, male, female, from all kinds of backgrounds - and there is still an element of 'taboo' preventing them accessing help. Now, I can’t say I'm particularly enamoured with old age (I will be 75 later this year) but I make the most of each day as it comes, and am glad to be alive to tell the tale.

I felt compelled to write this poem years ago, in remembrance of a great guy who took a wrong turning and was found lying in a gutter one day ...

Tragically, there are still those to whom taking hard drugs is socially acceptable, a trait encouraged by a drugs-friendly celebrity culture frequently in the media spotlight and setting an appalling example.

  

BETWEEN FRIENDS or SHADES OF LIGHT AND DARK

Under a halo of sudden light,

a familiar figure beckons;

looks, sure to win the Devil over;

designer gear any angel would give

their wings for

Laugher lines in the classic brow,

enigmatic poise teasing me

even now as into the clinging dew,

I run barefoot,

hug anew this pouting saint

to a sobbing breast…

Laughter, through tears for years parted,

broken hearted…

Catching my breath, no nearer it seems

to this golden-haired god

in jeans I’ve borrowed times before,

reaching out a hand,

indulging me a bitter-sweet smile

that means so much I’d give my all

to touch…

Lark into dawn skies, vanished;

a bitter-sweet song,

no listener (ever) left unpunished;

lives as fresh and hopeful as spring rain

till you tried heroin

[From: Love and Human Remains (under the title, Between Friends) by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2000]