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.

Saturday, 15 August 2020

The Borrowers OR Human Nature, a Mind of its Own

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

Today's poem first appeared on my gay-interest blog  in 2013.

While feedback suggests relatively few reader dip into both blogs, I would suggest that human nature is such that there are closer parallels  between them than some of us might care to concede.  Love, though, is above all that and male (and female) bonding is - as it has always been, and always will be - a fact of life. Yes, there are certain lines drawn in sand - just as there have always been and always will be; whether or not close friends choose to cross them is - yes, as it has always been and always will be, down to human nature. 

I was in love with a close friend for a long time. He is gay too, but has never felt the same way. Even so, he has always loved me as a friend and I’ve had to be content with that.

In time, I learned how to let passion go and settled down to enjoy a platonic love we lend and borrow by way of supporting each other all the time.

THE BORROWERS or HUMAN NATURE, A MIND OF ITS OWN

You lay your head on 
my shoulder, its presence there
stirring such feelings in me 
I thought, long gone, no part of me again,
but I was wrong;
my heart bursts into song, if sadly
 for such love cannot be
as I would wish but must settle 
for - what, exactly? 
Not less or (ever) second best,
but first among equals 
where friends touch base with Plato,
no need for words

You are a treasure my heart 
will prize above all else, be glad 
for each time I see your eyes
 smiling into mine or tears even for waves 
of hurt rising like a flood 
in you while I can but do my best 
with mere words to aid, 
inspire, reassure, lend a shoulder 
to trust, an arm to lean upon, 
embrace you as friend to friend, 
longing to hold and kiss you, 
yet unwilling to risk more (far, far more)
than I could bear to lose

True, your love comes not 
as I would dearly have it, yet no less
truly beautiful for that,
nor let it ever be still, this passion in me, 
but forever grow, 
lending you to me and me to you 
in ways this body dare not 
even hope to know ... 
where wishful thinking asks questions 
of history’s blurring sight 
for watching antics of a heart 
deserving more than its slow-fast beatings
here, on my shoulder

Copyright R. N. Taber 2005; 2020

[Note: An earlier version of this poem appears in A Feeling for the Quickness of Time by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2005.]

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