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)

The Hand of a Friend

invisible

with no form

sinking deeper

into the haze

the mist

the depths

fear drawing deeper

senses numbed

no one around

nothing

no one

alone

not just one fear

but many

compounding

make life

bleaker

darker

with even less form

a bump

a landing

finally at rock bottom

a resting place

to curl up and be

forgotten

it feels strangely warm

oddly comforting

to be at the bottom

to be without any way forward

a light breath blows through the mists

making them seem thinner

blueness is there

it’s hues are gentle and deep

blueness reigns

a fresh breeze tousles

what was gray and formless

now has blues and greens

and a yellow brings vibrancy to life

a hand

a hand of a friend

holds the shapelessness of life

that was once vibrant, hued and deep

the hand of a friend

with it’s own blues, greens and yellows

gives form to a shapeless life

remembered

the yellow hurts

it is too bright

too sharp

too painful

but the blues and greens give nurture and care

a gentle dance of colours begin

on the hand of a friend

who dared be a friend

just blues and greens for now

but in time

yellow

orange

red

will be back again too

because of a friend

who dared be a friend

and held out a hand

and blew breath into a life This poem was inspired by a drawing by a friend :) ... it's a wonderful example of how art inspires art in others, so thank you Kayla for your drawing.

(c) Copyright Luke Visser 2016 (written March 2016)

Ghosted Away

gone

totally gone

not a word

just gone

as blackness of the night

takes over

the pain is appalling

pieces of me

torn

from my body heart mind and soul

there’s an emptiness

an aching

i scream

sob

thrown to the winds

they float away

are blown so far

out of reach

and yet i must

for they

are the parts of me

that are you

that are us

i must have them back

or

watch them go

the moments i stop

and watch them float away

on the breeze

the wind

the gale

i see them for what they are

my memories of you

each

carried away

by a ghost

in despair

i chase them

first one

then another

oblivious to me

they flee

some easily caught

but my hands

won’t hold them

the ghosts

that carry you away from me

those ghosts

they are cowards

they flee

never facing me

always moving away

showing no respect

I see only

their backs

taking my memories

moments

and you

so far away from me

one ghost stops

and turns it’s face

sad

pained

tired

it looks at me

with tenderness

tinged perhaps with love

and then

it too is gone

ghosts

tearing you

away from me

but i refuse

you loved me once

and i loved you

it will not be

i sit

and slowly draw

the memories of you back

the pain is excruciating

it wracks my being

but i will have them back

and they will be

the echo of you in my life

friends

precious some

sit with me

and listen

how can an exquisite memory

a moment in time

of great beauty

be ghosted away

so easily

friends listen to me

as i recount my memories

of you

a ghost comes back to me

it is the one

that for a moment before

showed me the love

I knew so well

the sadness on it’s face still there

it’s look pleading and desperate

i will have it back

the memory is mine

slowly

tentatively

with great tenderness

it lays the memory on my heart

and the ghost is gone

i have you back

a part of us is back

and in the darkness

a tiny star is born

deep in the night sky

in time

my night sky will be full of our memories

exquisite

beautiful

painful

poignant

those memories of us

of you

and then one day

a dawn may come

when you and i

are us again

forging new memories

for another night sky

until then

i will draw my ghosts back

all our memories

i will place in the night sky

to remind me

of what life used to be

and can be again

(C) Copyright Luke Visser 2016 (written Jan 2016)