United we stand, divided we fall...

 (From Roger’s friend, Graham)

Hello, and sorry for not posting here for a few months. Despite best intentions, circumstances prevail sometimes. My mother is receiving end-of-life care so I’ve been making regular trips to the family house in Trowbridge. Thank you for visiting Roger’s poetry blog.

I’ve been contemplating the recent riots here in the UK, following the social media disinformation as to the identity of a child-murderer at a Southport nursery. Beyond the horror of the attack, it has highlighted the mistrust and intolerance which exists within our multicultural society. It underscores the fault lines of disparate communities. More widely it is a global media exposé on a fragmented society. As an egalitarian British guy I feel shameful about what has transpired.

A very wise Ghanaian friend once said to me ‘your rights end where mine begin’. It’s a deceptively simple remark which actually delves into the profound; that freedom to express one’s identity – whether religious, cultural or political – must end at the point where it infringes upon the liberty of others. Freedom of expression cannot be boundless. Especially in a multicultural society which, intrinsically, encompasses differing perspectives on ethics and social norms. It must rely on a degree of acceptance for secular principles. Such as the individual’s right to choose where they worship and who they love. But more widely, multicultural cohesion relies on an acceptance that women share this right, along with those who are uncertain about their gender identity. Those who don’t conform to cultural notions of propriety have an equal right to be free from violence, if not opprobrium. Those who leave a religion too, to become ‘apostate’, ‘gentile’ or ‘blasphemer’ still retain a basic right to be free from violence and threats.

People who think otherwise, well, perhaps they don’t truly belong in a democracy...? Rather, a theocracy, a fascist dictatorship or an ochlocracy where they can happily tie people to the pyre. To so fervently support division whether political, religious, or otherwise, ignores our common humanity. And embraces the illusion of ‘otherness’ - so often stoked by (so-called) community, religious and political leaders.

In an increasingly pluralistic society, there’s a point where we must listen to those seeking to build bridges. Rather than burn them.

 * * * *

‘Those who can make you believe absurdities can make you commit atrocities.’ Voltaire.

‘The true triumph of reason is that it enables us to get along with those who do not possess it.’ Voltaire.

* * * *

GUEST SPEAKER

I am relatively new
to the world’s societies
bent on testing me
to the limits of tolerance
towards a diversity
keen to embrace everyone,
regardless of race, sex
or creed if on its divisions
determined to feed

 I dare have my say
in public places, Holy Books,
political manifestos,
though adults (as a rule)
less likely to grasp
what it is we’re getting at
than the child at school
asked what he or she thinks
life is all about

We have to live together,
which means more agreeing
to differ, if only to defuse
rising discontent with animosity
dished up by this culture
or that religion vying for priority
with precious little respect
for a common humanity

Engage with me, Multiculturalism,
expose any Politics of Separatism

Copyright R. N. Taber 2010

 

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...?]

 

An Empathy with Nature (1)

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

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

“Human nature is not a machine to be built after a model, and set to do exactly he work prescribed for it, but a tree, which requires to grow and develop itself on all sides, according to the tendency of the inward forces that make it a living thing.” John Stuart Mill

“In terms of sex between same-sex partners, the objection that "the parts don't fit" doesn’t make sense on even the most logical level. If the parts didn't work together, frankly, people wouldn't be putting them together.” -  Kathy Baldock [Walking the Bridgeless Canyon: Repairing the Breach Between the Church and the LGBT Community]

“Our common humanity is more important than all the things that divide us.” – Mairead Corrigan

"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment." - Ralph Waldo Emerson 

Now, as regular readers will know, some years ago, I began writing a trilogy, the title of each volume to be Blasphemy, Sacrilege and Redemption; it was never finished. I had been given to understand that an American publisher would publish it, but it transpired that he was only interested in breaking into the UK market. When Blasphemy failed to comply, he lost interest in any companion volumes.

Although I had already written Sacrilege, no UK publishers expressed any interest in a gay-interest trilogy. Moreover, a very rude letter from the American publisher, making fun of my self-publishing logo, “Assembly Books” left me loath to complete the trilogy. He clearly had no sense of irony which, regrettably, I took to heart at the time.

Later, I published Sacrilege along with Blasphemy and my other novels on my fiction blog, but was already having to deal with health issues that, dissuaded me from writing Redemption.

Why Blasphemy-Sacrilege-Redemption? The enduring hope was to get across the idea that any form of prejudice is a blasphemy, just as physically and/ or emotionally abusing LGBT+ folks is a sacrilege and our ability to rise above it and come together in peace and love with the blessing of friends and family (gay or straight, kith and kin alike) is nothing short of a redemption. 

For my own part, those early closet years were a living death, nor ever have I felt so alive as when I felt the full force of mind-body-spirit prompting me to to get real and come out. 

Subscribers to conventional religions may well take offence; none intended, though, as my only intention has ever been to endorse the Human Right to differ. Besides, any religious argument that  God is Love loses credence in the face of any form of prejudice within the framework of a common humanity. Me, I consider myself a Pantheist, a feeling for God as nature rather than its creator, having always felt a closer affinity and sense of spirituality with nature. 

As in all matters across the human landscape, we cannot expect to always accept or even understand some of the choices people make, simply respect them as we respect theirs, not cause dispute and irreparable division, especially in matters of the heart. No one should be made to feel a sinner, whatever their religion, for staying true to their native sexuality; nor, I imagine, would any God of Love judge us so.

Regular readers of any or all of my blogs will know that agreeing to differ, rather than fighting over whatever, it is a matter close to my heart.

So…such is the background to a proposed trilogy of poems,  Am Empathy with Nature (1), (2) and (3) of which the first appears below.

Now, I hope to complete (2) and (3) within a few weeks, but have to confess that health issues are proving a hindrance to just about everything I attempt at the moment, so there may be some delay.

Each poem will also appear on my gay poetry blog. Doubtless, some readers here will complain that my  Gay/ LGBT+- interest poems should be restricted to that blog, but a poem has something to say to everyone, just as prejudice is inclined to raise its ugly head anywhere and everywhere.

 AN EMPATHY WITH NATURE (1)

Some abuse me, say I sin
whose faith would condemn me 
to serve a life sentence,
prisoner of heart-and-soul,
unable to break free,
give the real me an opportunity
to be as faces in the moon
haunt my days, assure me night after night,
that no wrong could feel so right

No conventional religion
would concede me the spirituality
my imagination feeds on,
taking my cue from earth, sea and sky,
all things bright ad beautiful,
creatures great and small, like candles
to love-hope-peace, lessons
for the learning in nature and human nature,
to embrace, pas on, nurture

No true love can be a sin,
regardless of whatever any religion
might have to say,
nor yearning flesh to yearning flesh,
whatever gender, but set on
giving the poetry of mind-body-spirit
a voice; no ego calling,
only a spirituality made fearful of rejection
by strictures on kith and kin

It well may be that home
is where heart-and-soul comes alive,
leaving doubts and fears
for the love of one above all others;
yet, love is ever plural,
has room aplenty for family and friends,
whose love and understanding
may yet be still relied upon as freely given;
such is the art of being human

Call me Blasphemy, in a heaven-and-hell world
where Bigotry so loves to have the last word...?

Copyright R. N. Taber, 2022

Anthem Played on a Grass Harp

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

Some years ago, the children of friends of mine married without the blessing of their parents because both sets of parents disapproved of the match because is a lot older than her. Neither could accept their grown-up children’s choice of life partner. As it is, they have missed out on all the pleasures of being grandparents and seeing their grandchildren grow up.

Among all prejudices, ageism is often seen as the ‘poor relation’ but it can devastate lives as much and as needlessly as any other form of prejudice, whether it be based on the colour of a person’s skin, the nature of their sexuality or... whatever.

The couple in question had celebrated their silver wedding anniversary and were very happy until the younger partner died in a car accident. Only then did the families rally round and try to make peace “for the sake of the grandchildren...” Better late than never, I suppose, but so much time wasted, so many golden opportunities missed.

Prejudice in any shape or form doesn’t only eat away at a person’s mind-body-spirit, however much he or she may resist and rise above it, but can destroy families, even communities that are the chief losers in a human equation that will never quite add up until certain people see sense and recognise that all good people have a right to live their lives as they see fit, whether or not it quite adds up to what others might prefer.

I have seen prejudice drive people to crime, even suicide; such a waste of human potential. Whatever happened to respecting and making the best of our loved one’s choices for the good of everyone concerned? Driving home a point from a which misplaced pride refuses to let us budge can so easily make losers of us all.

ANTHEM PLAYED ON A GRASS HARP

Watery sun dripping through trees,
leaves sparkling like jewels in a crown
where we’d wander, my love and I,
ears pricking up at a chick’s first cry,
looking out for others flapping their way
on first flights through dawn rainbows
till gliding with ease as nature meant
for us all, although less so among humans,
a species well known for thinking they
know better than Earth Mother, wishing
them ill (and Hell) who resist straitjackets
and persist in walking tall

On a magic carpet of many colours,
among daisies passing for fairies
in a palace of dreams, we’d go free,
where all prejudices and bigotry
mean less than a fair breeze in the face,
Earth Mother’s caress in the hair,
reminding us how we are, one and all,
as nature intended, no one creature
any more or less precious than another,
each, in their own way, a ‘live’
testament to mind-body-spirit and a history
lending meaning to eternity

We arrived where the carpet
tuned into stone, where no sun shining,
only Shadows, a gathering of forces
preparing to take humanity on and win
any fight it may choose to pick,
no matter rights and wrongs (or alternative
points of view); for them, a certainty
that the world has no place for men, women
and young people whose sexuality
offends a majority choosing to make stand
on a Ship of Fools in a gale force wind, set on
making sense of humankind

Oh, but spring in our hair like jewels in a crown
Love takes for its own!

Copyright R.N. Taber 2010; rev.2021

Note: This poem has recently been significantly revised since first appearing in my collection On the Battlefields of Love by R. N. Taber, Assembly Book, 2010.] 

Waking Up to Love

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

As I have pointed out many times on the blog, love comes in all shapes and sizes in both natural and human worlds, nor less natural in the latter for its being of an LGBT persuasion; sexuality is not a choice, but one of many elements of life and love that comprise the mind-body-spirit that makes us who we are.

In the past, many LGBT folks have been despised and become victims of prejudice and hate, not unlike many from ethnic minorities, albeit for reasons of race rather than sexuality, but no less horrible for that.

Even within similar arenas, prejudice has been (and still is) known to spread like a pandemic with which millions of people have been infected over centuries, relatively few given so much as a mention by name in any history book... even as history continues to write us up as its authors see (or don't see) its bigger picture.

As regular readers well know, I also have a gay-interest poetry blog which, like my fiction blog, can be accessed from this one. Tragically, such is the level of prejudice against LGBT folks in various societies,  communities and families worldwide that some dare nor risk accessing any such material that might 'incriminate' them; a tragedy, yes, because no one should have to live in fear or who (yes who, not what they are) as they struggle to make a life for themselves.  

The good news is that more LGBT folks across the world are having to struggle less to make their voices heard; the bad news is that far too many are still left struggling, not least due to the sheer hypocrisy of world religions that preach love, but only as recognised by their own criteria; anything else is seen as something to be condemned, as if any religion has a monopoly on spirituality.

If one person can learn to respect another person for who they are (whatever their faith,  or colour of their skin) why can't everyone?  Whatever happened to agreeing to differ?

Oh, and yes, this poem also appears on my gay-interest blog today so daresay I will be receiving the usual troll emails...which I will, of course, ignore. 😉

"I imagine one of the reasons people cling to hate so stubbornly is  because they sense, once it is gone, they will be forced to deal with pain." - James Baldwin

WAKING UP TO LOVE

There's a tree in a field
that sings me a love song
every time I'm sitting
when, where it rises from the ground;
listen, and you'll hear...
the words of a love song hanging
on a dream lost and found

By a tree in a field,
we wrote our first love song,
bodies entwining
as we lay there on the ground,
sharing with the birds
such joy, such passion, hanging
on a dream lost and found

There's a tree in a field
that watched us kiss and part,
not daring to believe
as we lay there on the ground
how gay love might yet
survive a world left but hanging
on dreams lost and found

To a tree in a field,
we returned to live a love song,
bodies entwining
as we lay there on the ground,
sharing with the birds
such joy, such passion, a waking
dream lost and found

Copyright R. N. Taber 2012; slightly rev. 2021

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in my collection, Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012.]

Wake up World, Get Real

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

It isn't only about climate change that much of the world needs to stop dragging its feet and get real. 

Embracing an LGBT perspective on the world is never easy in so far as the world is full of bigots, some of whom hide behind their religion to justify their attitude towards the global consciousness that is LGBT, in spite of certain life forces that continue to conspire against it, including most world religions. 

The world's collective mindset has come a long way since I was a troubled gay teenager in the 1950's. Even so, we still have a long way to go before we can consider the gap well and truly truly closed between how we see ourselves and how the rest of the (straight) world sees us...but we are getting there, slowly but surely, and that has to count for a LOT.  

Meanwhile we can but continue to defy the homophobes and religious hypocrites... and get a life while encouraging LGBT folks in less enlightened societies and communities to rise above all that, in mind-body-spirit anyway, even where the closet door has to remain shut for safety's sake..

To suggest that LGBT folks cannot continue to be a part of a religious community to which they have given heart and soul has to count among the worst kinds of rejection. It is bad enough that some LGBT folks are (still) rejected by family and peers in all parts of the world, forcing many to live secret lives. Whatever happened to agreeing to differ and respecting each other rather than seeing the other party as an enemy, blasphemer or whatever...?

Now, as regular readers will know, I am in my mid-70’s now and having to contend with various health issues. I have to admit that I struggle to write poems these days, but I hope you will embrace this one in the spirit in which it was written.

WAKE UP, WORLD, GET REAL

We walked in a dream,
my true  love and I, crossed rainbows
into a paradise
where no faux stereotypes could expect
to survive long,
where secrets, lies and home truths
encouraged to escape
cold, dark, lonely closet lives,
look the world in the eye, have it welcome us
into a prejudice-free universe 

We lived in a dream,
my true love and I, feeling more each day
that it didn’t matter
we were gay, only that we should stay true
to a glad heart,
beating as strong as any other,
embracing all humanity, anxious to let
the LGBT ethic take a bow,
despite having been so often put down, abused,
in a universal Here-and-Now 

We woke from a dream,
my gay love and I, had to cross sword
with worldly bigots
and faux stereotypes, assuming a reality
all but surreal
in a mind-body-spirit that’s struck deaf-blind
by the very world it lives in,
one where all good people, wherever
and whoever, well deserve be free to live in peace,
each to their own, no prejudice 

We still share a dream,
my gay love and I, although he’s gone,
but still a part of me,
looking on with even more hope than pain
as history proceeds
to make much the same mistakes time
and time again...
Yet, there is a young generation, wise
beyond its years, accepting people as they are,
not as the bigot invariably sees 

It was and will always be
the way of dreamers to take their cue
from a way of life
that rushes not to judgement, taking care
to look to the inner self,
ask frank questions, draw upon honest answers
let actions speak louder
than words, demand we of human nature
demonstrate greater respect for Earth Mother, 
nor less so towards one another

LGBT, in all walks of life, a global consciousness
swathes of worldly conscience need to address 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

[Note: This poem also appears on my gay poetry blog today; any new LGBT readers may like to explore  its archives. To access my other poetry -and fiction - blogs, click on the scroll bar in the top right hand corner next to the blog title.] RT

 

 

 

 

True Love Ways

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

Someone once asked me how , as a gay man, I can write love poems. Well, I ask you, does a silly question even deserve an answer? 

For a start, LGBT folks are as capable of love as anyone. Possibly, my questioner was confusing love with sex, as many people do. He may well choose to set himself up as judge and jury regarding our approach to that, but by what right does he do so? His religion may well condemn same sex relationships, but what justifies imposing his religious agenda on me?

Sex can be an expression of love, of course, but it's by no means the only one. Besides, love comes in all shapes and forms, as I have pointed out on the blog many times. We may well love family, friends, places, pets... in which neither sex nor gender (or sexuality) play any part whatever.

Love is a powerful emotion in both human and natural worlds, nor is it any less natural  in the former for same sex couples. No one chooses their sexuality, it is purely a matter of genetics. Why condemn same sex couples for something many if not most heterosexual couples take for granted? Bigotry - on religious grounds or narrow mindedness - causes considerable hurt to those it attacks, so much so that many LGBT folks are fearful of being open about their sexuality; yes, even in the 21st century! Fear (not shame) may well mean a closet existence, one I endured until my mid-30's  and, believe me that closet  gives a whole new meaning to the phrase 'Hell on Earth'.

Is saddens me so that I've met LGBT folks from all walks of life (yes, all walks of life) who risk losing family, friends, even their lives, not because of their sexual persuasion but as a result of bigoted, stereotypical perceptions of it. While it is encouraging to see less of the latter these days, we still have a long way to go before certain communities worldwide are ready to put them aside, if ever...

Yes, I've said all this before, especially on my other poetry blog, but - as my dear mother used to say -if something is worth saying, it has to be worth repeating.

Take care, keep well and be safe everyone.

            ( NB Image taken from the Internet.)

TRUE LOVE WAYS

Though Fate us part awhile
relax, enjoy a cup of tea
or a walk in the park, but smile
and laugh for thinking of me

Though Life us part awhile,
play a game, see a movie;
no moping, keeping a low profile;
move on, have fun, think of me

Whatever has us part awhile,
our love will keep us close;
so, no tears, just summon a smile,
be as dawn to a river as it flows

For engaging with life forces
and any blows they let fall,
there’s a You-Me-us of happiness,
able to defy, rise above them all

Let Death conspire against us
(with nothing better to do?);
Love, the stronger of all life forces,
will find ways to see us through

Whoever, in life, to a Heaven aspires
has but to nurture true love ways

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

Hello again, folks, from London UK

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

Hello again from London UK,

I recently said that was planning new editions of my collections as well as at least two new ones. Well, I have changed my mind, having realised that most of the poems on my blogs were revised from the originals as I published them to the blogs; sometimes revisions only minor, others more substantial, but always significant.

Browsing previous collection, I have realised that no small number of poems belong to the times in which thy were written, both from sociological and personal points of view.

I have therefore decided to prepare new collections, under new title, but including some of the best poems from previous collections that reflect nature and sentiment, but don’t lean on a sociological context from which both poet and society have moved on... to a greater or lesser extent, as the case may be.

Having said that, no few of my poems reflect certain socio-cultural-religious points of view in which I am not entrenched, but which I feel the need to express personal as well as public concerns; the latter applies especially to my gay-interest poems, given that LGBT folks are still given a hard time in some communities and societies worldwide.

I don’t often add to my gay-interest blog these days, but the reason for that is that years of hormone therapy for my prostate cancer have left me asexual.  

At the time I started writing it up, it was very difficult to find poems on an LGBT theme that were non-judgemental, and I decided to try and correct this.

There is nothing unnatural or shameful about same-sex relationships; those of us who engage in them do so, not as a life-style choice, but as a result of our genetic make-up. The many bigots – all ages, from all walks of life and various socio-cultural-religious persuasions – are either acting out of ignorance or simply looking for an excuse to attack us – morally, physically or both.

The arts, of which poetry is more concerned with opening minds to concerns other than those to which they may well have been introduced, even indoctrinated, by well-meaning elders, especially during the all-important formative years. Life, though, is about becoming our own person, not as others might prefer us to be. Growing up is about coming to terms with the inner self and that may well mean having to compromise with or replace certain attitudes with which the chances are we were never quite able to enter into, even as children.

In my own mind, as regular readers will be familiar, a poem is a poem is a poem, regardless of its theme/s. I do not discriminate between gay-interest poetry and general poetry. At the same time, I could see that I stood a better chance of making this point by appearing to contradict myself in writing up separate gay and general blogs. (Even so, I have included the same poem on both blogs from time to time, especially when the theme address bigotry of any kind.)

Consequently, the majority of gay-interest poems that specifically address LGBT readers can be found in the blog archives, accessible on most servers on the righthand side of any blog page at https://rogertab.blogspot.com

When I started writing up the blogs, I did not expect much interest. Today, however, my general poetry blog reached and passed 2000,000+ views. Not a lot compared to what users on social media have come to expect, but I feel very encouraged and can but hope that more readers have enjoyed than been disappointed by the sentiments expressed in many poems, whether they agree with those sentiments or not. A poem is a poem is a poem, but they hope to offer food for thought, and agreeing to differ can provide no less hearty a meal as empathising with the poet.

I will continue to post poems, but now I need to concentrate more on preparing new collections, as I promised myself I would once my general blog passed 200,000 views as it did today. Blog statistics register almost 160,00 views for the gay-interest/LGBT blog, considerably less but well worth the effort as emails from readers of both blogs continue to confirm now and then.

Take care, everyone, many thanks for your company, as always, and be sure to nurture a positive-thinking mindset, whatever...

Hugs,

Roger

[Note: This post appears on both poetry blogs today.] RNT

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Placing the 'I' in Perception

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

Congratulations to all those participating in The Olympics. Only a fool would deny that it isn’t about winning and losing, just as only a fool would dare suggest it’s all about winning and losing; it’s the taking part that really counts, just being there. 

Much the same might well be said of life; it’s the being here that counts and giving it our best shot in whatever ways we can. So, some of us may fall short of the proverbial mark, so what mark might that be and who’s to say who put it there? Everyone will have an opinion, of course, and a world turning on opinions is healthy enough... until those opinions proceed to sow seeds of discontent, even aggression, doing more harm than good. 

As I have asked on the blogs time and again, whatever happened to agreeing to differ?.

PARENT to CHILD: Why does it always have to be why this and why that with you? Why can't you just do as you're told?

CHILD (shrugs) Because...

PLACING THE ‘I’ IN PERCEPTION 

I have winged the world
by day and night, let its beating heart
move us, now to such tears
of pain as embracing life forces can bring,
now for such years of joy
as teach the heart to sing in finest hours
of a personal space left free
to follow mind-body-spirit whenever inspired
by soulful prose and poetry 

I have sailed angry seas,
skimming waves incited to wreak havoc
among such creatures
great and small as dwell below, swim above,
or simply seek to cool
the heat of such everyday anxiety as likely
to attack humanity
at its every twist and turn as it seeks to do or die
in its quest to answer – why? 

By what human right do we
outlaw and deplore what we cannot share,
for wont of persuasion
or inclination of mind-body-spirit to enter into
for reasons sound and true,
while bringing the full force of judgement
on any who refuse to comply
with aspects of human behaviour most favoured by
this community, that society? 

Why do religions persist
with agendas that deny human beings a right
to embrace as free a spirit
as gave us birth, let us bond with Earth’s
seas and skies, trees and flowers,
birds and beasts, encouraging such inner sight
as can penetrate surfaces
considered plain, even ugly, for left running scared
of all its formative years foretold? 

Life is life, death is death,
such is the way of all creatures great and small,
though human perceptions vary;
similarly, love is love in whatever shape or form,
nor ours to condemn
for its appealing neither to religious dogma
nor personal agenda,
but deserving thanks for sharing such fine showpieces
as wing eternal in its You-Me-Us 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

Some Doors Never (Quite) Close OR Young Love, Old Love

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

Overheard in a local store recently: 

1^st MAN:  She’s only seventeen, so how can she know her own mind? I tell you, the boy’s trouble. I’ve told her to stay away from him, but... 

2^nd MAN: Kids, eh? So much to learn and so much they just don’t want to know... 

(Both men move away.) 

Now, I have no idea of the actual context of this conversation, having only caught a snippet, but it was enough to remind me that not only LGBT folks are up against traditional ideas, one of these being that young people don’t know their own minds. True, they have a lot to learn, but how to learn if they are not encouraged to do so? 

The vast majority of parents only want that is best for their children. For many parents, though, their children never (quite) grow up and/ or may well follow a different learning curve to the one their parents have in mind for them. Whatever, mulling over this snippet of conversation resulted (for better, for worse) in a poem. 

SOME DOORS NEVER (QUITE) CLOSE or YOUNG LOVE, OLD LOVE

There’s a love song
been running around in my head
all day, today
and most days since last we met,
said our goodbyes,
promised to meet up again soon;
only, it wouldn’t happen;
life would deal us more cruel blows
before we’d meet again 

I hear it in the wind
as I lie in my bed at night, dreaming
of you, wondering
where and how you are, recalling
all the plans we made
for a future with neither sorrow
nor pain to haunt us,
but love alone to see us through all life
may send to taunt us 

They meant us well,
both family and friends who warned
we were not meant
to be together, no birds of a feather,
you and I, but chalk
and cheese who could not hope
to ever realise our dreams
of a world that would gladly see its lovers
rise above its divisions 

Time passed, the same
song in my heart urging me to overcome
society’s resistance
to the you-me-us of years when we
thought of ourselves
as free to be together, no matter
how great the pain
as may well take us to task for going against
its traditional grain 

Give it time, they had said,
and we’d see the wisdom of advice given,
but my love, it lived on
in mind-body-spirit until I resolved
to seek you out,
take a chance on the feelings we had
making such choices
as we’d have made then, but told “too young"
by older, wiser voices 

Decision made, interrupted
by a knock on my door I hesitate to answer
for fear of losing the thread
of mind-body-spirit’s engaging me
with such home truths
as I’d been advised to put aside by those
wanting better for us
than what they could not even begin to consider
for themselves 

It was in something of a daze I opened the door
to find you smiling there...

 Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

Hello again, folks, from London UK

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

Hello again folks, from London UK

No poem today, but I am working on one, not only for you all but for me too. As with most people, the pandemic continues to taken its toll on yours truly. As if growing old and living alone was not enough to contend with, I find myself struggling to rise above the kind of depression that comes with battling various health issues - not least, my prostate cancer - on a daily basis.

At least I understand the nature of what I what I am up against and do so with a hopeful heart. Some battles are beyond understanding, prejudice being one of them. Prejudice against another human being is a sickness I find very hard to understand, and I am not speaking simply as a gay man.

Those who nurture feelings of racism, sexism, any kind of hate form against another human being simply because they don't like colour of their skin, their gender or the  nature of their sexuality... or whatever... is beyond all understanding.

Not for the first time, I received complaints about my last post along the lines that "... a gay-interest poem has no place on a 'supposedly' general poetry blog." That may well be true, but the motivation behind a poem is every bit important as the poem itself.

There are many men and women out there to whom the faith in which they were raided remains important to them even if they discover during puberty that they are of an LGBT+ persuasion, which most religious dogma condemns. Homosexuality and gender identity are no less a part of the human condition than any  mind-body-spirit that identifies with and feels a compelling empathy with the religion in which they have been raised.

Another reader has emailed to complain that "As you say you are not religious yourself, how can you, a godless person, justify a poem that is a religious allegory - of sorts..."

Hopefully I have explained if not justified the reason for the poem in the previous paragraph and other blog posts. As for my being a "godless" person, I have never claimed to be one, except in the way most world religions would have it. Pantheists believe that God is nature, not its creator. 

Anyone who has experienced as intimate an affinity with nature as with a God that not only doesn't discriminate along such prejudicial lines as some human beings, but neither sees any form of  bigotry as a "natural" element of any mind-body-spirit. Over the years, I have meat many people who share much the same experience, albeit I dare say they my well prefer not to see themselves as pantheists... or poets, for that matter.

 How a person feels, how he or she fills their personal space, that is where human choice lies, and it is only human to make  bad choices sometimes; these can never (quite) rectified, but the capacity to recognise  and change is also innate to mind-body-spirit and it should not require religion to state the terms of  a sinner's repentance or forgiveness. If we can repent and forgive ourselves, it is my belief that the greater, natural part of mind-body-spirit will rest easier for that and form the better part likely to engage with an empathic consciousness in life or death. 

      I'm not asking anyone to agree with me, simply trying to answer (to myself as much as anyone) why poetry helps me get through bad times and lets me feel a sense of spirituality as well as sheer pleasure in better, kinder times. Not an answer that will satisfy some if not many readers, I'm sure, but like everyone else, I can but try to get to the root of such thought processes that many philosophers and many a finer poet than I has attempted to reach for centuries.

Take care, keep well and nurture as positive thinking a mindset as you can,

Back soon,

Roger

A Force to be Reckoned With

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

Today’s poem was written in much the same spirit as the one before for which I make no apologies.

As we grow older, our thoughts inevitable turn to mortality and what it means to us in an intensely personal way; sorrow for having to leave family and friends – at least in a physical sense – is only half the battle some of us wage within ourselves as we recall images arisen from threats and promises made during long-ago formative years that are rarely as easy to shrug off as we might wish.

Over the years, I have met gay men from all walks of life and religion; the latter imposing far more guilt and despair on them than they deserve for their rejecting certain aspects of dogma by which a defensive worldly agenda would exclude them from both faith and any sense of spirituality altogether.

While I mean what I say about respecting a person’s religious beliefs, I also mean what I say when I blame religion for so many of humanity’s divisions and flaws, including my own.

Recently, I got chatting with a  gay Catholic man, in his mid-70’s like myself, besieged with doubts and fears regarding a Heaven he never ceased to believe in, but spent the best part of a lifetime in a weepy closet, made to feel by family and peers that he had no right to believe in anything much, including himself.

At the risk of being reprimanded for repeating myself yet again, no religion has a monopoly on spirituality.

The human spirit will be guided as much by the body’s innate feeling for all things positive as the mind’s inclination to trust its own judgement. Together, all three are a force to be reckoned with as world religions are beginning to realise; the more LGBT+ folks who learn to have faith in themselves and each other, the less likely they can be made to feel denied or undeserving of either those aspects of religion with which they most identify or the sense of growing reassurance it brings that no one’s spiritual well-being is threatened by their sexuality alone.

Regular readers will know that, as a pantheist, I reject the kind of dogma perpetuated by most world religions. Many who, likewise, cannot relate to a personified God any more than I do, or the teachings found in Holy Books, may well think of themselves (openly or not) as atheist or agnostic. Whatever, the human spirit clearly does have a will of its own, is capable of generating a sense of spirituality among even the most irreligious of human beings, not least in our capacity for love, in all its shapes and forms; lose that and, yes, we may well be on the road to a living Hell of our own making...

A FORCE TO BE RECKONED WITH 

A young man stood weeping
at the Gates of Hell where he’d been told
told to wait by certain “betters”
among humankind until let in to join others
whom the Devil has taken
for his own, down to words said, deeds done,
no malice intended, but seen as sinning,
deserving the worst all God-fearing folks can imagine 
within the parameters of their religion 

An angel came out of nowhere,
asked the young man why he shed such tears,
and the young man replied
how it was the sum of all earthly fears to be there
at Death’s door, waiting to see
the flames of hellfire, be made to dive therein,
due punishment for such worldly sin
as being on love with another man, much the same as he 
for engaging with homosexuality 

“Love is love, whatever its nature,”
said the angel, hand to head in sorrow and pain,
“Nor was eternity intended
for such troubles as mortal minds are inclined
to inflict rather than agree to differ,
allow for such reality es as they cannot be a part,
its seeds sown and nurtured in the heart
by assorted mind-body-spirits, rejected by such religiosity
as imposes its own spirituality...” 

“Are you saying I might even qualify
for Heaven? the young man asked, barely daring
to entertain the thought,
yet inspired by the angel’s understanding smile
to hope for more from eternity
than either burning or being as alone as made to feel
for much of his time on Earth
as neither of Earth Mother or Father born,
but an outsider, a freak of humanity, if only in failing to see
religion's monopoly on eternity 

“We who are not of Earth are well aware
of all that goes on there, can see into a human heart,
the sum of all its many parts
as lending the individual any benefit of doubt,
sitting less in judgement
than in compassion, allowing for a sense of spirituality
as comprises a whole that some call ‘soul’
where others see a human spirit engaging purely and simply
with a feeling for what comes naturally 

The young man took the angel’s hand in his,
and flew realms of time and personal space he’d seen
only in dreams of a kinder world,
no one made to suffer for ways of life and thought
that some may well see differently,
but the human spirit deserves a place and say in a world
that, try as it might, cannot dictate
how a person should feel or believe in order to (ever) qualify
to go wherever angels have no fear to fly

Copyright R.N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Engaging with Conjecture

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

I recently met up with a close friend for lunch in a church garden; it was a lovely, sunny afternoon and we were joined by assorted avian friends (mostly pigeons) hoping for such crumbs as we duly obliged. 

While chatting away, we’d sometimes address the birds directly; some would even seem to understand, if only in our imagination. Maybe they did understand, if not the words we spoke, the tone in which we spoken them? Who really knows what goes on in the head of any live creature, including human beings? It can only be pure conjecture, surely?

 

I put this to a psychiatrist once. To my surprise, he agreed, adding that it was not his job to know what goes on in patient’s heads, but to help them to know and thereby help themselves. “I’m trained to read signs, not to be a mind-reader,” he pointed out, “Before anyone can begin to deal with problems affecting their behaviour, they have to get to the root cause, rather like having to lift an invisible curtain they don’t even realise is there.  It’s my job to point patients towards it and help them find the wherewithal to lift the damn thing. Even then, it’s only a first step...”

 

A naturalist acquaintance once commented along similar lines about conjecture. We were observing a tortoise in his garden. “How does it decide which way to go?” I wanted to know.

 

“Natural instinct,” he said with quiet conviction.

 

“So how does that work?” I persisted.

 

“No one really knows for sure,” he chuckled, “... but we can learn a lot by observation of live creatures and their remains. Even so, all species are different and within any species there will always be individual differences. At the end of the day, even what a specialist learns is only conjecture, but as close to knowing as anyone can get.” 

It was s too complex a conversation for me, though, and I changed the subject...

 

ENGAGING WITH CONJECTURE

 

In a church garden,

two gay men engaging with nature

and human nature  

in such ways as its hosts would

deny us for our being

beyond both their ken or remit,

according to such dogma

as they would share as a ‘God-given’

insight to Heaven

 

Beneath leafy art forms

portraying dream-like cameos

of cloud shapes

and sun nymphs peering down

with watery eyes,

we ate our lunches, two old friends,

tossing breadcrumbs

now and then to birdlife come to share

precious moments there

 

Pigeons, various markings

and colouring, engaging with us;

avian and human,

birds of a feather come together,

truce understood,

a spirit of such caring and sharing,

as even divided species agree

on nurturing, if the going’s looking good

for credit and reward

 

Nearby, a crow has business

of its own with discarded food waste

in open litter bins,

deftly removing sandwich wrappings

and other crumb-potential,

scattering them across public gardens

for passers-by to deplore

such ‘litter-louts’ as never spare a thought

for the environment

 

Observing, though, how much

nature and human nature have in common,

for worse as well as better,

who’s to judge any species of creature

great or small for being

as they are, or any within the human race

made to feel outsiders

by any form socio-cultural-religious dogma

now and forever?

 

Such are ways to which life forms

are born, better (surely) to trust than see them

forsworn under duress,

reason the need any heart may protest

at being put to a test

it doesn’t even recognise as fit for purpose,

any more than do two gay men

in a church garden, engaging with local nature

and human conjecture? 

 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021 

[Note: This poem-post also  appears on my gay-interest poetry blog today.] RNT

Cookies, Conspiracy Theories & Personal Space

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

I heard someone comment only recently that “With any luck, we’ll get out freedom back on July 19^th when life returns to normal...” She was referring to the provisional date set by the Government to end Covid-19 safety precautions here in England, depending on how the Delta variant progresses and affects hospital admissions. 

Hopefully, he’ right, but I can’t help wondering just how “free” any of us really are any more in a world where the concept of ‘Big Brother’ created in George Orwell’s classic novel 1984 has long since stepped out of fiction into the real world...? 

In a world of ‘political correctness’- to which any decent person would subscribe in principle - we have to watch what we say or risk having it taken out of context and used against us. Meanwhile, the Internet, along with other aspects of new technology, comprises the epitome of a double-edged sword, working both for and against us at the same time. 

More than sufficient reason (surely?) for the human mind-body-spirit to stay alert to the more positive life forces around us, especially given that these remain in the majority, thanks to the better, bigger, kinder heart of human nature. 

Alternatively...? Well, we risk being overwhelmed by a growing army of negatives, actively encouraged by bigotry and gossip - particularly of the kind that make media headlines - to rework and propagate misleading stereotypes. 

My money’s on the positives, notwithstanding every Here-and Now’s reminding us 24/7, that personal space remains as vulnerable as it is precious.

COOKIES, CONSPIRACY THEORIES AND PERSONAL SPACE

I am that contradiction
among the greater part of a humanity
that needs to run wild and free
while knowing there’s a place to go
where a mind-body-spirit
grown weary of the world’s pace
can rest, recharge in safety
and privacy, without being made to reason why
it’s never (quite) enough to do and die  

While human hearts travel
such seasons of personal space as quirks
of time-and-circumstance
see fit they should, so well may they
beat all the faster, the thrill
of adventure as likely as not taking over,
nor reasoning the need,
but leading with a sense of being as wild and free
as mind-body-spirits deserve to be 

At the end of every dream-garden
the heart nurtures, a trellis gate beckoning us
to make of our futures
whatever its desires would have us do,
succeed or fail as well we may;
such are the life-forces of human choices,
but no point in our refusing
a gate’s invitation to explore some Great Unknown
if we can’t do better by Home Grown 

Call me a socio-cultural-political consciousness of sorts,
no less engaged in stabbing backs as winning hearts 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

Starting Out

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

I published today’s poet-poem on my gay-interest poetry blog yesterday and would not have published it here (for obvious reasons) had a “100 % heterosexual” reader who signs himself “Jay” not emailed to say that “My brother is gay and your gay poetry blog has helped me understand him so much better. He recently invited me to meet his new boyfriend. I took my wife along (for moral support) and the four of us had a great evening. It’s as you often say on the blogs, a poem is a poem is a poem just as a person is a person is a person, and neither deserve to be discriminated against on the grounds of any personal prejudices. So, come on, Roger, put your money where your mouth is (or poetry, anyway) and, who knows? Posting the poem on your other blog may well help other straight guys understand their gay peers and/ or family members better...” 

Well, that’s great to hear – and never let it be said that I’d duck a bardic challenge... 

So, here we go, the Full Monty from yesterday:

Not one of my better poems today, but I enjoyed writing it after a lively chat with a young man on the London Underground. 😉

We made an unlikely pair, two masked men, one in the first flush of a Here-and-Now still full of possibilities, and yours truly in the latter years of my Here-Today-Gone-Tomorrow...😀

We had once worked together when he was mostly stuck in the proverbial closet and he was keen to relate his experience of having come out of it...😁 

Sadly, my prostate cancer means I have been virtually asexual for some years now, but a guy can dream, can’t he, even at 75+...? 😊

Although most world religions love to impose guilt on LGBT folks for our being 'sinners', how can love be a sin, especially since they also insist that God is love...? As for enjoying sex, with or without love... well, that's just human. People can make what 'moral judgements' they like, but what gives any of us the right to do that?

No one should be made to consider themselves less than human, whatever their sexual persuasion; if their religion is an integral part of who they are, nor should they be made to feel any God of Love would exclude them from it...whatever anyone else might say. 

I can almost hear people snort, "Oh, and what does he know... but what do any of us really know?  Such is the heart of whatever it is we believe in;  it bypasses beyond all knowledge. 

As I have put to blog readers before... if those of us who feel unable to subscribe to any world religion, for whatever reason, can respect those who do, why can't we all simply agree to differ instead of taking offence?

STARTING OUT 

Dark blue suit, white shirt,
red tie, glossy black shoes, a hint
of yellow socks, perfectly groomed hair,
a slick, city guy for sure

He was chatty with everyone
in the bar, if going easy on the drinking,
“He’s into mind games.” a sixth sense said
as we had sex in my head 

I looked away and got chatting
to a barman while he expertly pulled me
another beer, the stranger all but forgotten,
fantasy kept well hidden 

Gazing absently into my beer,
till someone’s bending my ear, looked up
to see a pair of smiling eyes, coloured green,
looking directly into mine 

“You’re a quiet one,” he said,
a twinkle in each eye and lips relaxing
into a cheeky grin, “I’m only passing through,
and I really fancy you...” 

I laughed and flung arms wide,
“Why me, when you can have your pick
of anyone here?” His turn to ask with a grin,
“Is that a ‘no’ then...?” 

“Why me?” I asked again, playing,
for time, head acting out the same fantasy,
brain’s traffic lights on amber, body in a sweat,
my first time out... 

He told me his name, I told him mine,
and we made small talk over another beer
until he asked if I lived nearby and would I be ok
with making his day... 

“I’ve not done this before,” I blurted, 
expecting a roar of laughter, but he just shrugged,
leaned forward and whispered, “Frankly, me neither,
so, let’s be good to each other...” 

We were more than good to each other
the night he stayed over, and I’d wake next to others
in due course, never (quite) as in love, though, it’s true
as now when I wake next to you 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nature and Human Nature Revisited

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

How well I still recall the old childhood cry, “Stick and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me...” It was a lie I actually believed until I stood on the threshold of my youth as a gay person; I was 14 years-old and it was 1959, not a good time to be of an LGBT persuasion.

There were so many words, insults, faux stereotypical images behind every one of them; queer, faggot, cock-sucker among the least offensive, likely to be thrown at anyone even suspected of being “not normal” or as morally prescribed by the majority heterosexual point of view.

Yes, I know things have changed, but not for everyone and not everywhere. Whenever I recall barely scraping by as a real person, too scared to come of the damn closet until my early 30’s, I feel ashamed of myself and angry that some 40+ years on, there are men and women continuing to suffer much as I did, courtesy of various socio-cultural-religious agendas for bigotry worldwide.

Homophobia, sexism, racism... these could have been minimalised, if not eradicated altogether, had Education but done its job properly in its various academic settings rather than being made to feel it had to ‘play safe’’ by choosing to confine itself to academic life-forces rather than those at the heart of human nature that have made the world go round for centuries. Some may well argue that it is up to parents, not teachers, and they would be right, only how many parents really talk to their children (at any age) about the wider ‘moral’ spectrum beyond what they have chosen for themselves? If pressed, they will invariably say it’s a teacher’s responsibility, but as soon as a teacher attempts to help a class cross academic lines into real-life issues, its usually parents who are the first to express such outrage as likely as not  to be ‘legitimised’ by a social media that appears to prefer fake news and local gossip to anything approaching the facts of a matter, Consequently, offence is often taken where no offence meant other than to give us what we can expect to find outside the school gates... if we haven’t already experienced much of it for ourselves already...

Thank goodness for a level of maturity among many if not most young people these days, teaching them to recognize and differentiate between such fake news, home truths and stereotypes as academia rarely has an opportunity to home in on; where it does, it needs must walk on ‘eggshells’ - for which, read metaphor and simile least likely to cause offence.

Unfortunately, even the most well-intentioned statutes, such as those embracing Human Rights and Equal Opportunities are fair game for anyone whose power of persuasion (or power alone) is such that we may too easily be led (or misled) by their interpreting words to their own advantage, for negative as well as positive reasons. Whatever, the chances are that various media sources - with their own agendas - will provide them with a global audience...

NATURE AND HUMAN NATURE REVISITED 

Sun, beating down on a Covid-stricken Earth,
humanity encouraged yet again by the glorious rebirth
of nature as seasons come into their own,
seeds sown long ago start to flower, bear fruit, whatever
expected of their species, so human nature, too,
continues to rework stories of love and peace, such joys
of life that help compensate for its darker aspects,
wars and (local) hate crime ever among its chief suspects
besides drugs and people smugglers 

Apollo glaring down on a panic-stricken Earth
as if bringing kinder weather might even yet encourage
its communities to get their acts together,
cease making out that God’s in His heaven and all’s right
with a world so bent on making assumptions
that everyone’s okay with  progress keeping Business
in the loop, while having some folks jumping
through more Hoops of Change, only to find mind-body-spirit
as willing as ever, but less and less able 

Past-present-future starting to fall like fake news
on human ears ever wrestling with such sounds and effects
as now raising hopes, now free-falling us
into a sea of despair, waves crashing, that sinking feeling
almost welcome... but... mind-body-spirit
not finished with us yet, urging us to panic not, but swim
ashore, grab the reins of life once more, steer it
while reasoning the need, paying less heed to certain ‘betters’
whose words but axes grinding us down 

Rain, beating down on a Covid-stricken Earth, lending us time
and (personal) space to rise above its worst 

Copyright R. N. Taber 2021