The Gender Whisperer

i hide

i move

i blend

all in plain sight

not quite of those i move among

i wish i was

i want to be

and everything i’m told says

i should be

i learn

i play

and the friends i have

all seem so different to who i feel i am

i hide

i blend

but sometimes

i get seen

and then i shrink away

i did something

i said something

that doesn’t seem to fit

fit the pattern of who i should be

it’s my skin

it’s my face

it’s my body

they just don’t seem to quite be who i should be

so i hide

i blend

and sometimes i shrink

and shrink some more

until that day

that splendid day

that horrific day

that day i will never forget

when someone

a quiet someone

a stranger someone

looked at me and saw me for who i am

only looked at me for moment

with eyes full of tenderness

eyes full of warmth

but in that moment

i knew

i had been seen

i ran

i froze

i ran some more

my feet feel frozen to the ground

i ran

i shrunk

i barely moved and yet

all of me ran as far away as i could

i watch

wary

but the eyes

the smile

said warmth

said tenderness

and something even more

i couldn’t look

i shouldn’t run

but when all was done

i dared something i’d never done before

as all walked away

i stayed and drew near

and quietly sat nearby

thank you

was all i could say

was all i could do

as i sat so quietly nearby

the eyes were bright

a smile so full of warmth

these words came back

a whisper

a breeze of sound

i thought i heard

but had never heard

i thought i heard the words

“you are beautiful”

but that could never be

i looked

i dared to look

“you are”

at that moment

i had to choose

to run

or

melt

Australia's new PM coined the term "Gender Whisperer" for people who help kids understand
who they are. Scott Morrison, that prime minister, did not use it in a complementary manner but still
it has been adopted by some wonderful friends of mine. This is for them and what they do.
Particularly for how they help the trans community.
(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2018 (written Sept 2018)

Once was quiet

among us move the quiet

the still

the not so brave

with one wish they want granted

to join that sweet refrain

they sit there still and listen

soaring music through their souls

their bodies resonating

with voices strong and bold

the basses are the breeze

on which sopranos float

the tenors bringing colour

the altos add the hues

of a song

painted

exquisitely

in the air

awed and unbelieving

they stand

they sit

and listen

to voices that sound like one

and yet by eye are many

among us are the quiet

who once were not so brave

their wish

a start

was granted

a part in that majestic choir

and yet the rich refrain

it started as a faltering

the note that came too early

and one that came too late

with pitches low and high

and laughter all around

then one day it comes easily

a rousing ensemble of us all

we stand

we sing

laudate

to delight the every heart

for singings joy is not our own

it’s what we give to others

to draw them from their quiet repose

and join in with the chorus

and for some

the hope

the wish

of song

of repertoire

of solo

or simply

just to sing

This piece comes out of a journey of learning to sing. Of listening to music, choirs and wondering if I could do that too. I can and apparently you can too if you want to, if you have that wish. The poem was triggered by having “Happy Birthday” sung to me at 54 by the choir. I'm the oldest male in a choir of about 50 and yet a whelp compared to the mostly 20somethings who’s singing inspires and delights. Beware, when you imagine that age implies skill, experience or wisdom … it doesn’t. (C) Copyright Luke Visser 2018 (written Apr 2018)

Utopie (dutch google translation)

utopia
utopie kan ongelooflijke isolatie zijn van de rest van de wereld
het kan Pyramiden zijn, het is heel extreem

utopia
zowel socialistisch als kapitalistisch
is een stad
bijna volledig verlaten
herinnert ons aan een heel andere wereld
dan we ooit hebben gezien
zwarte kolen overal
roestvrij staal
houten buizen
en een man
in utopie
op een fiets
met een geweer
het houden van utopie in leven

utopie spandeert tijd op Noorderlicht
rollende zijde naar de kant met de golven
stampen boog naar achteren met de zwelling
warme gezelschap in de cabine
winderig uitzicht op het dek
vogels zwoegen langs de boot
rennen de wind
geweldige uitzichten langs

utopie is de bemanning die van de boot geniet, die door de golven rijdt
eenzaamheid op dek voor sommigen
prachtige maaltijden geserveerd door anderen
de boot schip houden en gevuld met goodies
mensen heen en weer naar de kust brengen

utopie leert ons over de boot
het is geschiedenis
hoe u de zeilen opstijgt
hoe de boom te trimmen
zelfs helming wanneer nodig

utopie neemt ons aan wal
laat ons het platteland zien
de hutten
voor het ogenblik verlaten
maar enkele dagen
bloeiend met activiteit
het horen van de geweldige manieren
het landschap rondom ons werd gecreëerd
over honderden miljoenen jaren

vogels zien
zeehonden, walvissen en vossen
ongelooflijk kleine planten
met nog tinier bloemen
vasthouden aan het leven in bossen de grootte van mijn hand

utopie is een ijsbeer
gezien in de regen
wandelen langs een klif
onbewust aan ons
wij zijn het
nu weg te gaan
uit ijsbeer utopie
wat zou kunnen zijn
wederzijdse dystopie

utopie is foto's
duizenden van hen
door ons allemaal genomen
herinneringen van een tijd
momentopnamen van een moment
waar we ervoor gekozen hebben om te besteden
tijd met elkaar
in utopie

utopie is anders
anders voor ons allemaal
maar gedeeld tussen ons

Op een reis naar Spitzbergen/Svalbard werd ik gevraagd een gedicht te schrijven over de reis op Noorderlicht. We hadden net een spookstad genaamd Pyramiden bezocht. Het is een Russische utopische nederzetting die in hun tijd een relikwie is geworden. Ik ben nog nooit zo op een plek geweest. Het was verbazingwekkend om de laatste en laatste verbazingwekkende foto's van het leven over vele decennia te zeggen en hoe het allemaal kan vallen. Maar negen personen wonen er nog steeds, reizen door de spookstad en ze houden van de plaats. Het kan niet vaak zeggen ... 'Ik heb meer dan de helft van de bevolking van een stad ontmoet'

My dutch friends ... if any of this seems wrong please let me know and I'll adjust the translation based on your suggestions. All I did was google translate it.

(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2017 (written Sep 2017)

Utopia

utopia can be incredible isolation from the rest of the world
it can be Pyramiden at it's very extreme

utopia
both socialist and capitalist
is a town
almost fully abandoned
reminding us of a world completely different
than we have ever seen
black coal everywhere
rusted steel
wooden ducting
and a man
in utopia
on a bicycle
with a rifle
keeping utopia alive

utopia is spending time on Noorderlicht
rolling side to side with the waves
pitching bow to stern with the swell
warm companionship in the cabin
windy view on the deck
birds swooping past the boat
riding the wind
amazing views sweeping by

utopia is the crew enjoying the boat driving through the waves
solitude on deck for some
magnificent meals served up by others
keeping the boat shipshape and stocked with goodies
ferrying people back and forth to the shore

utopia is teaching us about the boat
it's history
how to haul up the sails
how to trim the boom
even helming when needed to

utopia is taking us ashore
showing us the countryside
the huts
for the moment abandoned
but some days
thriving with activity
hearing of the amazing ways
the landscape around us was created
over hundreds of millions of years

seeing birds
seals, whales and foxes
incredibly tiny plants
with even tinier flowers
clinging to life in forests the size of my hand

utopia is a polar bear
seen in the rain
wandering along a cliff
oblivious to us
it's us
now moving away
from ice bear utopia
which could end up being
mutual dystopia

utopia is photos
thousands of them
taken by us all
memories of a time
snapshots of a moment
where we chose to spend
time with each other
in utopia

utopia is different
different for all of us
but shared between us

On a trip to Spitzbergen/Svalbard I was asked to write a poem about the journey on Noorderlicht. We had just visited a ghost town called Pyramiden. It's a Russian utopian settlement that has turned into a relic to their times. I have never been in a place like it. It was astonishing to say the least and and amazing snapshot of life over many decades and how it all can fall apart. But nine individuals still live there, taking tours through the ghost town and they love the place. It's not often I can say ... "I've met more than half the population of a town" (C) Copyright Luke Visser 2017 (written Sep 2017)

The Glade

deep in the woods there’s a place

and it’s stillness scares me

it’s my place and i found it many many years ago

even before you knew me

i found it and well it scared and excited me

at first i thought it was just a hole

a dark dirty awful hole that opened into the earth

but something called to me from within

when i was younger

i ran from the place each time

too afraid to enter and too afraid to stay

but since you

well before you

but because of you

i wanted to explore it

those i live among know nothing of my cave that’s hidden away

oh yes i forgot to tell you

it’s a cave

i’ve actually been inside

during the day at first

the light was only there for ten

maybe

fifteen steps

and then i ran again

no one knows i go there

not even you

and i wish i didn’t know either

it calls to me

and recently something strange happened

and i think it’s because of you

i can walk deeper into the cave

and see more

but oh

i don’t want to

because

well

it so utterly terrifyingly majestic in there

i wouldn’t say beautiful though

someone i described it to once

tells me it is

it is beauty

oh yes, someone knows i go there

it’s like a beauty i’ve never seen before

and i’d touch it and take from it

but it’s always there

more beauty

when i come back to you

i hold that beauty

even though i don’t see it as beauty

someone helped me to see that

someone helped me to say that

but anyway

I bring it to you and show you

and you smile a little smile

the thing that annoys me is

and like it really does annoy me

when i give it to you

it looks nowhere near what it did when i first saw it

and yet you smile and well

i sigh

i find that i can go deeper into my cave since you

and there are spectacular sights in there as i’ve never seen before

cathedral caverns of such grandeur it blows my mind

terrifies my very core

and yet i stand there and let the light wash over the grandeur

once i took and gave to all who made me smile

who give me joy

who made me feel like someone more than i am

and it made me glow

and sigh

do you know what i’d like to do most

not that i can ask it of you

i’d like to take your hand

and take you there

i nearly did once

do you remember that time

we wandered through the forest

and found ourselves in the glade

with the cliff before us

it’s there

i wanted to

but instead we stood and held each other

and laughed

and laughed

and laughed

maybe one day

maybe one day

the darkness won’t be so daunting

or maybe it’s not that

maybe the light won’t be so daunting

do you know what i wonder though

and this thought only struck me recently

maybe the cave isn’t a cave at all

maybe

it’s the world

and we’re in the cave

I don’t know but maybe

Sometimes I get lucky enough to be given an insight into someone's life and they say yes to me writing a poem about it. It's a delight and privilege to have that happen and this is what comes from it. It's one of my most favourite types of poems to write ... ones inspired by the lives of others. (C) Copyright Luke Visser 2017 (written Nov 2016)

The Forest of Touch

i dreamt in the moonlight of a great forest

and the breeze took me off to that place

one where we’re all blind and nothing was seen

and all I could do was

sense

touch

and feel

there’s fear all around and patches of hope

where love slowly draws us together

where moments of pleasure

abound in the forest

where the trees are so deeply asleep

my fear that so gripped me began melting away

with the wonder
the delight

of waking in the forest

for a time i was conscious of only the breeze

as slowly

it began

to slide through me

it thawed out my fear

it changed how I felt

it was as if in this new world

the only embrace

was that of the wind through my limbs

moonlit

and still

i heard them first

the creatures of this world

gliding

swirling

twirling through their forest

i heard them on the breeze

they saw me awaken

into this dream

and it seems that my fear kept them somewhat at bay

i can hear them, i can feel them as they moved through their world

as they danced as they laughed

as they moved with the breeze through the trees

and still my fear kept them at bay

so i breathed in their air

and I felt the first touch

as the bravest of the creatures came near

a breath over my skin let me know that this world

is so so different than mine

i quivered

i shook

and the first touch was soft

as the hand glided over my skin

and i breathed and sighed and the creature drew close

as a dance long delayed slowly started

something woke

something deep and arcane

and the brave wonderful creature

held me close and so warm

as the fingers, the hands

the hair of the creature

wound over

wound through and inside me

all mixed with the wind and the breeze of this place

a world I could never have imagined

then gone was the creature

and i was left to my self

to marvel and delight in this place

where sight taken away meant touch could be easy

and closeness so intimately chosen

and now I could see with a sense I’d not known

a creature exquisite drew near

so tender so passionate

so warm and so playful

that all of me ached for the breeze to appear

i slowed

i breathed

and i swayed in the moonlight

i could feel a gaze flow over me

it was if being seen was to feel a touch softly

as the light from the moon was drawn over my skin

and then the first touch

that softness and warmth as it trailed slowly over my skin

it moved where i willed without saying a word

as the creature read every sigh

every sway

every little movement

as we danced in our dream in this world

i spent but a moment

i spent a whole lifetime

dancing with creatures in my dream

the forest is silent

unseeing

unfeeling

with pockets of touch

glades of pure pleasure

bringing life back to a forest

long lost in it’s blindness

I'd struggled to write for quite some time now.  This poem came from two places.  One, a friend of mine challenged me to write something sensual some time ago and I could never really get my head around it until two ... I went along to a workshop on touch.  In our communities and society we don't touch much and yet humans are social and touch comes naturally.  And touch is particularly valuable in times of difficulty, it helps us feel connected.

(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2017 (written Feb 2017)