african | Wayne Visser

April 19, 2017April 19, 2017

Gran

A Tribute to Jessie Foster

My memories of childhood drift
Like lazy clouds across a blue African sky
Their phantom shapes not quite discernible
Their misty emotions forever changing

Storm clouds are rare among them –
Fleeting electric flashes of self-indulgent anger
Dull, distant thunder-rolls of disturbing fear

Most are wispy, white, feather clouds –
Good-weather scripts of promise and confidence
Magnetic spray patterns of compelling destiny

Some are fluffy cotton wool clouds –
Comforting blankets of cosy support
Wrapped around in a warm joyful embrace …
Like my memories of you, Gran

I remember silver pots of steaming weak tea
And feeding fat earthworms in the mulch patch
And tracking giant Matabele ants in the scorching dust

I remember yummy picnics in the park
And fishing fever at the dam
And trips to the mystical Matopos to gaze from God’s window

I remember playful yapping dogs
And sweet spoils from Meikles
And exciting excursions to Eskimo Hut

I remember thrilling pulsing electrical storms
And intoxicating raindrops on parched bush
And scented carpets of lilac Jacaranda

I remember magical sooty overnight train rides
And roadside treasure hunts for carvings
And awesome encounters with elephant elders

I remember your caring inquisitive way
With random strangers on beaches and benches
And you, resplendent in green, at our wedding celebration

I remember always your welcome lap
And your tinkling chuckle and ready mischievous smile
And your safe secure hand folded around mine

Gran, you billow graciously over the horizon of my life –
A shining fluffy cloud of my childhood
Tinted now with shimmering shades of glowing love
An archetype of everything that Grans are meant to be

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

This creative collection, now in its 2nd edition, brings together travel and tribute poems by Wayne Visser. The anthology pays tribute to the likes of Nelson Mandela, Maya Angelou, Barack Obama, Antoni Gaudí & Leonardo da Vinci, and reflects on travels ranging from China and South Africa to Ecuador and Russia. Life is lived in the in-between / In transit / Between coming and going / Between staying and moving on / Between here and there / And what we call home / What we call settled or contented / Is merely a resting place / A station for refuelling / A nexus for reconnecting / A junction for changing direction. Buy the paper book / Buy the e-book.

April 19, 2017

A Place to Bury Your Heart

A Tribute to Romania

The towering city tumbles easily into village and field
Exchanging its coat of grey for a tunic of green
The snaking road entwines river and railway
Past oil wells tirelessly flexing their mechanical muscles
And corn farms harvesting their crop of human toil

Monsters of industry loom like shadows from a bygone era
Devouring and digesting resources
Breathing in energy and exhaling clouds of poison
And by a tantalising trick of technology
Spitting out trinkets of modern convenience

Savage cliffs embrace the panoramic skyline
Like geological petals unfolding
Revealing forests of waving green and gold
An intoxicating pollen of purity
To the hungry gatherers of Nature’s inspiration

The Heroes’ Cross stands like a solitary sentinel
Keeping watch over the battlefield of life
Bittersweet history echoes down the passages of time
In castles, cathedrals and haunted prison cells of memory
Tombstones to the sacrifices of the many for the few

The patterns of the past are danced into the present
In whirling spray of colour and song
While the present is sown into the promise of the future
With magic seeds of friendship and trust
A fertile land – a place to bury your heart

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

April 19, 2017

Love and Blessings

A Celebration of the Birth of Justin Ramsey

Love and blessings on this day
The long dark night
Has warmed to light
The sun’s rays shine
And church bells chime
To tell the world the happy news

Love and blessings on this day
The sky is blue
Life’s made anew
This summer morn
A baby’s born
All nature smiles to celebrate

Love and blessings on this day
The hopes and fears
The laughs and tears
All end in joy
A precious boy
Welcome to your life on earth

Love and blessings on this day
The baby’s cries
Are met with sighs
The parents’ eyes
Are filled with pride
Loved ones gather close around

Love and blessings on this day
Wee tiny toes
And cutest nose
Sweet hands and face
All’s in its place
A perfect little human being

Love and blessings on this day
So many care
Who can’t be there
They send their wishes
Hugs and kisses
Rest easy now in their embrace

Love and blessings on this day
Flowers bloom
Just like the moon
And each new dawn
The world’s reborn
The circle of life’s begun anew

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

April 19, 2017

The Day the World Changed

In Memory of 9/11

One fateful hour of horror!
And the smug safety of every shore
is shattered
The waves of live media-feeds
come crashing in
Smashing our fragile senses
with hyper-dramatic images
Dashing our turbulent emotions
against the rocks of a new reality

Symbols of the free world tumble!
At the earthquake’s epicentre
of death and destruction
Leaving nations shaking and shuddering
with rage and fear
Left to search through the rubble and ruins
where towers of pride once stood
Hoping for a miraculous rescue
of their beliefs and way of life

The world holds its breath!
As the toll of tragic loss ticks
like a time bomb
Of grief and mourning and depression
and hatred and revenge
Some desperately looking for ways
to contain the blast
Others scanning the horizon for a target
on which to explode

The war against terrorism begins!
With a campaign for the ritual slaughter
of a scape goat
And a defiant display of frustrated firepower
and propaganda sorties
Leaving in its wake a cratered moonscape
of humanitarian crises
And a minefield of cultural and religious tensions
that lie unexploded

The world has changed forever!
Forcing us to venture beyond the fortress
of our comfortable self-indulgence
Prompting us to dig deeper than the shallow well
of our cultural arrogance
Pleading with us to rise up out of the morass
of our religious intolerance
Helping, in our quest for meaning, to realise
that the enemy is within

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

April 19, 2017

Forty Three

It was the year of Bordeaux cheese fondue
And St Emilion’s catacomb
Of steaming springs in Montagu
And cold Cape ocean tides of blue

There was Zurich’s placid lake
And Copenhagen’s mermaid muse
Paris streets and Seoul’s bright lights
And Corfu’s glistening turquoise hue

It was the year of Moscow’s Gorky Park
And Dexter’s secrets in the dark
Of Botero’s ark in Bogota
And the Petrol Christ in Barranca

There was Murano’s rainbow glass
And Burano’s colourful scenes
Da Vinci’s feats and Venchi’s delight
And gondola canals to emerald dreams

It was the year of scholars’ gowns
And triumph through the ups and downs
Of butterflies from the cocoon
And fireflies beneath the moon

There was Gothenburg’s white wonderland
And Bangalore’s ‘Horn OK Please’
Mandela’s long walk ended, now he’s free
This was the year of forty three

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

April 19, 2017

Empty Spaces

Empty spaces
Left behind
Silent paces
Without rhyme
Painful traces
To remind
Fading faces
Over time
Woven laces
Now unwind
Nothing replaces
Love sublime
Empty spaces
So unkind

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

April 19, 2017

I See You Clearly

A Tribute to Rev. Bob Steyn

I see you clearly –
Framed with humble grey suit
Centred with flaming chalice tie
Irreverent with peeping red socks

I see you clearly –
Furrowed frown echoing with emotion
Bristling brows dancing with animation
Crinklecut curls waving with wildness

I see you clearly –
Hunched in embracing conversation
Pursed in loving greeting
Drawing in smoky pleasure

I see you clearly –
Cradling a bewildered baby
Signing a watery cross
Affirming a yes to life

I see you clearly –
Extended arms in wide welcome
Cradling hands joining a nervous pair
Poetic voice invoking the prophet

I see you clearly –
Hands interwoven in sad prayer
Head bowed in painful remembering
Eyes consoling in enduring hope

I see you clearly –
Eyes tired with demands of work
Face lined with sorrow of others in need
Shoulders stooped with sickness of the world

I see you clearly –
Step light upon leafy mountain track
Being engaged among scholarly stones
Smile wide amidst bubbles of community

I see you clearly –
Embraced by bursting books ceiling high
Perched upon tiny stool in listening pose
Writing at huddled desk icon blessed

I see you clearly –
Gazing deeply into her eyes
Gently alighting a butterfly kiss
Beaming a love that makes you whole

I see you clearly –
Not only in cherished memories
But animated in living imagination
Independent of time and space

I see you clearly –
Engaging me in platonic dialogue as you teach me
Winking encouragement or raising eyebrows as you watch over me
Tugging and stretching the very canvass of my reality as you beckon to me

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

April 19, 2017

Nexus

A Tribute to the 2002 World Summit on Sustainable Development in Johannesburg, South Africa

Scattered rays of light converge
Rainbow people meet and merge
Upon the stage of Jozi town
Something big is going down

Colours clash and swirl and spark
Dancing flames light up the dark
Of narrow minds and vested veils
Of widening gaps and toppled scales

The world will never be the same
What’s lost is mourned, yet much is gained
Our hearts unite with beating drum
And spirits rise as hopes are sung

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

April 19, 2017

The Highwaymen

I catch glimpses of them sometimes – the shadow people:
Peering wearily from their highway hideouts
Almost invisible behind their camouflage cladding
Of earth-stained rags, litter-lego shelters and unwanted persons status

They strike fear into the hearts of many – these desperadoes:
Preying on the numb conscience of society
Having nothing, they have nothing to lose
In their battle for survival on the fringes of existence

I wonder how dangerous they are – the bridge stowaways:
Watching the rushing world go by, to and fro
Living from land to hand to bottle to mouth
In a cycle of semi-conscious passive resistance

Their freedom threatens to make us less free – these fugitives:
Running from the iron hand of the law of economics
Hiding to escape the cruel prison of forced daily labour
Of those trapped in motor car coffins and office block cells

They are thieves of the most tragic kind – the highwaymen:
Assaulting our sense of justice, of right and wrong
Stripping our moral fibre and robbing our dignity
In a society that is meant to care for its weakest and most vulnerable

Book

Life in Transit: Favourite Travel & Tribute Poems

April 19, 2017

Forty Two

It was the year
That rocked with the shock
Of the stopping clock
That choked with the smoke
Of the hearts that broke
That bled on the edge
Of the reaper’s wedge

And so the dark endings
Became painful bendings
In the path to slow mending

It was the year
That burst with the thirst
For creation’s first
That spawned with the form
Of a chrysalis born
That gleamed with the beam
Of a kaleidoscope meme

And so the winged swarmings
Became hopeful dawnings
To new ways of performing

It was the year
That was blighted and slighted
Yet still over-flighted
That was spanned over grand
And exotic lands
That I grew as I flew
And chased after the blue

And now the fresh dew
Of beginning anew
In the year forty two