Predator, Invisible Enemy

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

It being National HIV Testing Week, it seemed a good idea to drop by with this poem from my gay-interest blog archives for March 2013...

Gay or straight, there is no room for complacency regarding HIV-AIDS. We all owe it to ourselves and any potential sex partners to be responsible about sex and use a condom.

It might help if HIV-AIDS were not still something of a taboo subject with many people...

Education has to be the key to raise HIV-AIDS Awareness, in which context I wholeheartedly support organisations like DAMSET whose volunteers created a mural for people who have died of AIDS across Dorset; it involved going into schools and talking about HIV-AIDS. The tiles on the mural were designed by schoolchildren.

I would love to see similar projects worldwide:

http://damset.co.uk

[See also:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKzi9VRjuq0 on my You Tube channel OR search for 'Autobiography of a Beach' on the blog where the video accompanying it is also available.)

PREDATOR, INVISIBLE ENEMY

I have no need to look far for prey,

just follow footprints in the clay

where careless minds feed on a heat

in the blood as if it were for water,

rice or bread, answer to an everyday

need; no problem for a seasoned

tracker such as I, descending upon

bodies nursing what surely has to be

the world’s worst inhumanity

Unable to tell where my axe will fall,

some convince themselves I am

no real threat at all, rather something

akin to a bogeyman, hardly a figment

of the imagination but best consigned

to a cosy corner of a mind less likely

consider why so many get so careless

in the first place. Besides, who wants

to look a bogeyman in the face?

Men, women and children cannot run

from me unless privy to such ways

of the world even I cannot pin down,

kill slowly or, for a while at least,

subject to slavery; every act, thought,

bought with their sweat and tears,

save for those who have the measure

of my intention and can readily access

the means of best protection

In the blood, tracking footprints any size,

I, the predator, who am HIV-AIDS

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

Blueprint for Mornings-After-a-One-Night Stand

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

A less than gay-friendly straight reader writes,"You talk a lot about a common humanity on your blog, but what has any hot-blooded heterosexual have in common with gays?"

Over the past ten years, I have often wondered whether to post a poem on either or both blogs; this one first appeared on my gay-interest blog in 2011. At the time,there was an emphasis in the popular press on a perceived promiscuity on the part of gay men.

I dare say most of us have enjoyed a one-night stand or two...or three... or more in our lives. The sad thing is it’s more often the lows (a hangover even?) of the morning after that we remember rather than the highs of the night before. Gay or straight, it makes no difference. There’s nothing quite like that wistful morning-after feeling...not quite regret, but not quite resembling any feel-good factor either.

Enjoy, but play safe out there. (Yes, with medication, people can live with HIV-AIDS for years longer now, but who wants that hanging over them if it can be avoided?)

BLUEPRINT FOR MORNINGS-AFTER-A-ONE-NIGHT STAND

Slowly descending ceiling stills,
walls settle and squat,
all the colours of night-clamour
dissemble into a stale dawn
glimpsed through ragged curtains
at a weary window

Eyes peering, Mind stretching,
Body smoothing over cracks
in its cradle, summoning succour
from a worldly benevolence
that's stinging, oh, but so sweetly
at some leafy breast

Tears, oozing from a breathless
dreaming on this marble slab
of rude awakening, dispelling
any fleeting trust that today
might (just might) carry us along
on cosy kitchen sounds

Together, we saw a candle flare
in the darkness of our night.
Ah, but it was a heavenly light!
Yet, better by far to leave us
sleeping, oh, but so sweetly there

than revisit its shadows

Copyright R. N. Taber 2001

[Note: This poem has been revised from an earlier version that appears in Love and Human Remains by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2001.]

Symphony Pathétique

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

For me, love and nature go hand in hand. There is nothing more natural or beautiful in this life than to love...unless it is to be loved in return.

As for our sexuality - gay, straight or transgender - love does not discriminate so by what right does anyone else?

The death of a loved one, in any circumstances, is one of the hardest things we have to face in life. Thinking about death, though, does not have to be morbid or depressing. We just have to remember that spring always follows winter and be glad for the good times. [True, it’s never easy, but always worthwhile.]

As I have said before on my blogs, and dare say will again, moving on does not mean leaving anyone behind.

SYMPHONY PATHETIQUE

I see the sunrise in your eyes,

watch it set in your hair,

but when I’d kiss you goodnight,

you’re not there

I laugh with you in the rain

like we hadn’t a care,

but when the sun starts to shine

you’re not there

Media homing in on the spread

of HIV-AIDS everywhere,

the rhetoric of concern exposed

for an empty chair

If heaven’s kisses bitter-sweet

for the love in our care,

dare we betray, fail to keep it safe

in lust’s dark lair?

But for your love in my heart,

I could not bear

to know each time I take a fall

you’re not there

Let nature leave its mark on us

nor its passion us spare;

come mind-body-spirit awakened,

you are there

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010; 2018

[Note: This poem first appears under the title ‘Sympathetique’ in On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2010.]

No Stigma for HIV/AIDS

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

'When we walk away from global warming, Kyoto, when we are irresponsibly slow in moving toward AIDS in Africa, when we don't advance and live up to our own rhetoric and standards, we set a terrible message of duplicity and hypocrisy.' John F. Kerry]

This poem first appeared on the blog in 2009 and has since been requested by ‘Moira’ and ‘Simon K’ whose respective partners died of HIV-related infections.

Regular readers will know that I feel very privileged to have once been asked to write a poem (also on the blog) for DAMSET, an AIDS Educational Trust; thanks to the dedication and tireless efforts of those involved, the Trust has been responsible for creating a memorial mural in Bournemouth (near the pier entrance) to people who have died of AIDS across Dorset. Many of the tiles were designed by schoolchildren and I think it is wonderful (and not before time) that something so practical, imaginative, and sensitive has been created to promote HIV-AIDS Awareness. For years, tourists as well as local people will get the message while enjoying the tribute at the same time.

For more about DAMSET:

http://www.aidsmemorial.info/memorial/id=73/dorset_aids_memorial.html

I feel especially privileged that my poem - Autobiography of a Beach - has been included in the mural. ( See also: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKzi9VRjuq0&t=91s )

NO STIGMA FOR HIV/AIDS 

A neighbour had AIDS, and that’s why
some people speak of him
as if he were a dog that caught rabies
and had to be put down

He was a good man, some people say,
often whispering in my ear
(as if loath to confide a great sin)
that he was gay

He was a kind man, some people seem
anxious I should believe, as if
making reparation of the kind worn
on a perfectly ironed sleeve

He was an honest man, various people
are quick to cry as if
on the defensive after being caught out
in a well-honed lie

He was a lovable man, and had AIDS
although some people
won’t say that, as if in denial of a word
that deserves they get it right

A good, kind, honest, lovable man dies
of AIDS, and some people
(still) blame it on gay men as if they
have a monopoly on promiscuity

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; 2014

[Note: An earlier version of this poem first appeared in CC& D magazine v 212, Scars Publications (USA) 2010 and subsequently in Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]

Body Positive

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

Both poems have appeared on the blogs before, but as my dear mother used to say, if something is worth saying, it is always worth repeating …

Today is World AIDS Day. Let us not only remember its victims but also be thankful that continuing research into HIV-AIDS at least means people are living much longer with the disease and can enjoy a better quality of life than in earlier years. We can but hope a cure will eventually be found.

Meanwhile…let’s have fun, but play safe, yeah?

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...

THE TEST

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] 

Suburban Hero OR The Good Neighbour

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

Today's poem has not appeared on this blog before. I have nothing to add, but will let it speak for itself.

However, I would say to the reader who kindly says he enjoys many of my poems but thinks my collections would sell better and that I'd probably acquire a higher media profile within the arts media if I 'scrapped the gay poetry altogether...' Well, yes, you may well have a point. [Do I care?]

The reason I insist on publishing both general and gay-interest poems is because there is far more to anyone than how their gender or sexuality meets the eye, especially the judgemental eye. Yours truly,  for one, gets fed up with the level of such short sightedness in societies worldwide.

It is not only gay people who are victims of HIV-AIDS, of course; another reason for posting this poem on both poetry blogs. 

SUBURBAN HERO or THE GOOD NEIGHBOUR

He was just an ordinary man, living
an ordinary life on an ordinary street,
and whenever we chanced to meet
he would always make time for a chat,
ask me (for example) did I know that
Mrs T at number ten had been ill again
with lumbago, old J at number five
caught a bug in hospital and was damn
lucky to be alive?

He was such an ordinary man, living
such an ordinary life on such a street
as you might expect to find anywhere
if you care to look beyond dull fronts
of ordinary houses, could be forgiven
for thinking no worse fate (surely?)
than this spending one’s days in such
predictable ways, the stuff of suburban
myth for centuries

He was such an ordinary man, died
only a few years ago in a road accident;
no complicated will, only a pre-paid
funeral insurance, a few items to friends
and the house to an HIV-AIDS charity
that found everyone confiding how they
had suspected he was ‘one of those’
but …immaterial, and the whole street
turned out for the funeral

Such an ordinary man, nothing special,
simply a nice, neighbourly homosexual

[From: Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Bks., 2012]

Covenant with Love

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

World AIDS day may be on Dec 1st, but the HIV-AIDS virus is among us all the time and those affected need our love and support every day.

Now, this villanelle has not appeared on the blogs since 2010 and a number of readers have asked me to repeat it during the past six months or so.  I am happy to oblige, not least because I am one of the lucky ones. I don't have the virus if only there but for good fortune...and common sense; I always used a condom in the days when I was  sexually active, and was tested regularly.

Since being tested positive for prostate cancer in 2011, mind and spirit remain active, but my body doesn't want to know any more. No worries there, though, as I enjoy falling back on memories and  letting a poet's imagination, its wonders to perform...

COVENANT WITH LOVE 

Though saddened hearts would break

and HIV-AIDS a rising toll,

love, with loss, its peace shall make

See ripples spread for humanity's sake

come sun, moon, heart and soul

though saddened hearts would break

Where disease, fate, or age lives take,

anger, grief, like burning coal,

love, with loss, its peace shall make

See a light from dark, its prison break,

let better times roll…

though saddened hearts would break

Though we live for living’s own sake,

no matter affairs of the soul,

love, with loss, its peace shall make

Let the world’s worst its own forsake

and healing be our goal;

though saddened hearts would break,

love, with loss, its peace shall make

Copyright R . N. Taber 2007

[Note: This poem has been revised since first appearing in Accomplices To Illusion by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007.]

Autobiography of a Beach

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

[Update - December 25th 2019: Sadly, the Memorial Wall I am told the wall has now been neglected and encroached upon by commercial ventures to the extent that the path which used to exist taking visitors past the wall and giving a fine view over the bay has been blocked. Apparently, even before the memorial was unveiled five years ago, certain townsfolk made it clear they did not want it so now they, at least, will be well pleased. Complaints to the local council have been ignored, in my humble opinion a disgrace. Yes, the memorial was for those who have died of AIDS in Bournemouth, but - metaphorically - it was also for those who have died of AIDS worldwide; since people are still dying of AIDS worldwide, it would appear that human nature is such that it doesn't really care...? Whatever happened to the Spirit of Christmas...?]

December 1st is World AIDS Day. I wrote today’s poem at the request of the Chairman of DAMSET, an HIV-AIDS Educational Trust in Dorset after giving a poetry reading in Bournemouth public library, and subsequently dedicated it to DAMSET in my collection, Accomplices to Illusion. DAMSET was established with a view to creating a memorial mural for all those in Bournemouth who have died of AIDS, and was later extended to cover the whole of Dorset. The mural is now well established near the pier and I feel very privileged that my poem is included.

For more information about this inspiring project go to: http://damset.co.uk/

I read the poem on the 4th plinth in Trafalgar Square on July 14^th 2009 as my contribution to sculptor Sir Antony Gormley’s One and Other ‘live sculpture’ and you can still catch it at the British Library archive. [However, be warned; the video of my plinth experience and (very informal) poetry reading lasts an hour.]: www.oneandother.co.uk/participants/Roger_T [NB: Sept 19, 2019 - The British Library confirmed today that he 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

I also read it in Bournemouth, by the DAMSET mural, for my YouTube channel and have posted the (much) shorter video below. While feedback suggests some readers cannot access You Tube for various reasons, those who can may prefer to click on the direct link:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cKzi9VRjuq0

OR go to the channel and search under title: http://www.youtube.com/rogerNtaber

AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF A BEACH

Sun and moon, sailing fickle skies

to safe harbours;

Sea, like a cabbage-stained tablecloth

edged with white lace;

Heads peering up, peering down

as they have always done,

listening to waves, voices of the heart

that stay with us, move on with us,

play a part in our lives, no matter all

temporal hosts come and gone,

sun and moon out of reach, cabbage

stains on the world’s tablecloths…

tales told by shells on Bournemouth

beach of those whose faces may

blur with time but we remember them,

who died of AIDS and not to blame

(the fruits of love bitter-sweet, yet better

by far to live by it than hate)

nor sexuality, physicality, morality,

any match for our own mortality

but as small boats on a passionate sea

driven by a feeling for integrity;

Come a time when death may put love

out of reach, then take a walk

on the sand, talk with the waves, listen

to shells on Bournemouth beach

(or any other that stirs a grieving soul

to recover the heart’s grail);

join a passing ship awhile, carrying

family, friends, lovers, even

old neighbours…by day and night,

be they gay or straight…cruise

Loving Memory’s fair shores, share

old jokes, laugh about crises

over cabbage stains on best tablecloths

To inner eye (and ear) time never deleted

nor love, though AIDS, ever defeated

[Bournemouth, Dorset, March 2006)

  

[From: Accomplices To Illusion, by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2007; revised ed. in e-format in preparation.]