A Poet's Blog: Roger N.Taber shares his thoughts & poems...

Thoughts and observations by English poet Roger N. Taber, a retired librarian and poet-novelist.- "Ethnicity, Religion, Gender, Sexuality ... these are but parts of a whole. It is the whole that counts." RNT [NB While I have no wish to create a social network, I will always reply to critical emails about my poetry. Contact: rogertab@aol.com].

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Location: London, United Kingdom

Sadly, a bad fall in 2012 has left me with a mobility problem, and being diagnosed with prostate cancer the same year hasn't helped, but I get out and about with my trusty walking stick as much as I can, take each day as it comes and try to keep looking on the bright(er) side of life. Many of my poems reflect the need to nurture a positive-thinking mindset whatever life throws at us.

Thursday 20 October 2022

Potential for a Love Story OR The Eyes Have It

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

“Love has no gender - compassion has no religion - character has no race.” - Abhijit Naskar, Either Civilised or Phobic: A Treatise on Homosexuality 

“Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?” – James Baldwin

“Equality means more than passing laws. The struggle is really won in the hearts and minds of the community, where it really counts.” – Barbara Gittings

“Sexuality is one of the ways in which we become enlightened, actually, because it leads to self-knowledge – Alice Walker”

Now, it was a lay preacher who first defined ‘gay’ for me as “A person who not only sees no sin in being physically attracted to their own gender, but dares to justify any such relationship by suggesting it is a mutually consensual experiment in love. Love, of course, plays no part in it. It’s but an excuse for casual sex which, even between opposite genders is only ever at best, a selfish act, at worst, a sin.”

“But what if the couple concerned really do fall in love?” I wanted to know.

“Are you deaf, or something,” he snapped testily, there is no such thing as falling in love with someone of your own sex. Love them, yes, by all means, but platonically, not in a physical sense.” Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have things to do…”

Even at the age of 11, ‘pompous ass’ was the first phrase that sprung to mind as I watched him go.

It was the 1950’s. My mind continued to dwell on that conversation even before I realised I was gay myself. So prevalent and widely accepted was such prejudice towards gay folks in those days, that I felt unable to confide in anyone.

As regular readers will know, it would be another twenty years before I felt strong enough to share my secret with the world, but not before falling in love with a potential partner for life who was killed in a car accident that sent me scurrying back into a lonely closet.

Fewer people these days are intimidated by religious objections to a person’s sexuality and are more inclined to take others as they find them and play any potential friendship by ear.

Now, some readers may well be interested in the revised edition of Odd Men Out by John-Pierre Joyce, Manchester University Press, 2022. It charts the history of gay men in 1950’s and 1960’s Britain, but I suspect gay men everywhere, from all walks of life, will be able to relate to it, not least because homophobia remains rampant across the world, not least due to the narrowmindedness and sheer hypocrisy of various religions.

POTENTIAL FOR A LOVE STORY or THE EYES HAVE IT

As he turned from his window
on the world below,
his gaze rested briefly on me,
and in that moment,
we strangers acknowledged
the prison from which
we so longed to go free to enjoy
such venial pleasures, for better or worse
as would see us embrace

He left the room without a word,
intuitively, I followed;
sooner, rather than later, we knew
we would be acting out
a beautiful dream acknowledged
under cover of silence,
bringing us together to revel
in such carnal delights as we would share,
for laying our souls bare

Better bare than clothed in hypocrisies
constantly insisting
we are committing various sins
of the flesh, sure to see us
in a hell of our own construction 
for denying the edicts
of religions dating back centuries,
ostensibly expressions of love and peace,
except for You-Me-Us

I am that desire-of-the-flesh-become-reality,
transcending a potential love story

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022 

[Note: Several straight friends insisted I publish this post-poem on both poetry blogs today. Who am I to argue...?]



 



















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