Saturday 8 September 2018

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)

Tuesday 24 April 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)

Friday 8 September 2017

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)

Saturday 27 May 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)

Tuesday 21 February 2017

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)