On His Deafness
'Speak up - no need to shout -I'm not THAT deaf! '
- do I have real reason to complain,
if years of partial listening have brought
now partial hearing in their fateful train?
O Milton - isn't it curious: the blind
evoke our instant feelings of compassion -
while deafness calls some idiot state to mind,
evoking, far from pity - irritation?
Those saintly mystics would just praise their God
that He, to speed their simple saintliness,
brings outer deafness so that inner Word
in cloistered silence, bring a greater bliss...
So may I bear affliction in good part
and hope to hear the louder in the heart.
poem by Michael Shepherd
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Sonnet: On His Deafness
‘Speak up! No need to shout – I’m not t h a t deaf..! ’
-do I have any real right to complain
if years of partial listening have brought
now partial hearing in their fateful train?
O Milton – isn’t it curious: the blind
evoke our instant feelings of compassion;
while deafness calls some idiot state to mind –
evoking, far from pity – irritation!
Those saintly mystics would just praise their God
that He, to speed their simple saintliness,
brings outer deafness, so that inner Word
in cloistered silence brings a greater bliss..
So may I bear affliction in good part:
and hear a greater, louder word in heart.
poem by Michael Shepherd
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Hearing he hears not. He is deaf to entreaty. [Aliter., To feign deafness.]
Deaf Sentences
Deaf sentences cause the refrain,
“There’s failure to communicate, ”
which people who’ve been checked complain
when stymied by a dumb stalemate.
We ought to wonder who’s the cause
of silence in this failure? We
should, when we sense the silence, pause
and ask ourselves if it could be
the problems of our failure to
communicate. We often see,
but do not hear, when we pursue
our own agendas, sentencing
ourselves and those whom we ignore
with deafness, carrying a sting
that’s worse than wasps, and hurts much more.
Inspired by Michiko Kakutani’s review of “Deaf Sentences” by David Lodge (“Hearing and Dreams Both Fading, ” NYT, October 10,2008) :
The title of David Lodge’s latest novel, “Deaf Sentence, ” is, of course, a play on words, and there are many others scattered throughout these pages: “Deaf and the maiden, ” “Deaf Row, ” “I had not thought deaf had undone so many.” And for Mr. Lodge’s sad-sack,60-something narrator, Desmond Bates, who is losing his hearing, deafness is a kind of death — a symptom of mortality, a constant, embarrassing reminder of his aging body and diminishing hopes. After a couple of lackluster novels, Mr. Lodge is back to form: if “Deaf Sentence” lacks the uproarious academic satire found in “Changing Places” and “Small World, ” it nonetheless showcases the author’s ability to use sympathy and slapstick humor to create an appealingly hapless hero and to recount his adventures with Waugh-like verve. The humor is more muted here, not least because his hero is grappling with sobering matters like an ailing parent, a stale marriage and the frustrations and disappointments of advancing age, instead of the sort of career woes and sexual misalliances faced by Mr. Lodge’s earlier heroes. Indeed the novel occupies a similar place in Mr. Lodge’s career as “Exit, Ghost” does in Philip Roth’s, and “Villages” does in John Updike’s: the book is a veteran novelist’s meditation on aging and death and the diminution of youthful dreams.
10/10/08
poem by Gershon Hepner
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But people who think they can project themselves into deafness are mistaken because you can't. And I'm not talking about imagining what a deaf person's whole life is like I even mean just realizing what it is like for an instant.
quote by Richard Masur
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Are You Listening
Are you listening to my words
When I say them
Do you hear me when I need you most
Sometimes I feel like you not listening
Are you deaf?
Am i not speaking clear?
If I clear my throat and speak louder
Are you listening to me
Do you hear the words from my mouth
Is my voice to low?
Maybe if I speak louder maybe even scream it
Are you listening
poem by Raesheka Antwine
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Tut and Sigh
Your ice-cold eyes and plastic kisses
display your contempt for me.
I don’t know why I tolerate you,
you’re such a misery.
Your continual moans and groans
bring deafness to bear.
The Medusa I would rather face
despite her stony stare.
Enough’s enough, time has run out,
I’m off to watch paint dry.
This is far better than seeing you
and hearing your tut and sigh.
poem by Orlando Belo
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Think you of the fact that a deaf person cannot hear. Then, what deafness may we not all possess? What senses do we lack that we cannot see and cannot hear another world all around us?
Frank Herbert in Dune
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Guilty Deafness
You look like you've got something to say
It must be bad if you've come all this way
But I don't wanna hear it I've got guilty deafness
I couldn't take all that from you
The last time you came here you left me breathless
I couldn't take much more of you
You look like you've found something thats big
The kind that the papers would lose on what they'd bid
But they don't wanna hear it they've got guilty deafness
They wouldn't take all that from you
The last time you paid them you made them restless
They couldn't take no not from you
I've got her on one side
song performed by by China Drum from Self Mage Maniac
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Look Not At
Look not at what he or she appears
They are the same since years
Their sweet voice ring constantly in ears
They are our real brothers, sisters and neighbors
I never saw ugliness
But read only happiness
When they spoke few nice words
That was as if blessings appeared from the lords
What we all need in real journey?
When not needed wealth or money?
Few words do the real trick
When we have strong resolve to stick
What makes us to feel for outer show?
May be some irritation when it grows
For a face unfamiliar or with ugly appearance
That has been given by almighty at once
Who can undo it for any good reason?
But an individual can be nice person
Good at heart and full of compassion
That is all needed now for good relation
I used to read lovely messages
When they may speak nothing due to old age
But I catch the intention when look at
Their eyes seems full of thanks when fully set
What can be good if beautiful face turns cruel?
With nothing in store to express or tell
I love ugly people (God forbade me)
Who always love and pose no trouble
I wish to be one among
Even if they go anytime wrong
I shall cherish their inner beauty
When they speak little but with blessings from almighty
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Tell Me About Love (Love Poem)
I love you openly
But you cannot see this
Because you are looking
In the wrong direction
Just turn around now
And you will see.
I love you quietly
But you cannot hear this
Because you are listening
In the deafness of silence
Listen for our love now
And you will hear.
I love you completely
But you cannot feel this
Because we are touching
In sometimes sadness
Hold me closer now
And you will feel.
poem by Ian Beckett
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Election Coverage
From the small, barely audible speakers
Of a distant laptop computer, I
Hear a muffled sound, so I move closer
To it, listening—no real reason why.
Two people speak in repugnant voices,
In ugly language. They're commandeering
Me, telling me about all these choices—
And I can't believe these things I'm hearing.
They each dispute the other's thoughts, and they
Disagree for the sake of their egos.
They get louder with each word that they say,
But what are they saying? Who the hell knows?
It's just blaring noise filling the free air.
You yell. My ears hurt, but I doubt you'd care.
poem by Tim Stensloff
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Fundamental of Liar Chapter LXX: Good Vs Bad
Good is always in simple mind, bad always thinks how to trick
Good is always in simple way, bad always finds the escape
Good is always in simple manner, bad always fakes to cheat
Good is always in simple purpose, bad always has a catch
Good is always in simple reason, bad always uses layered lies
Good is always in simple trust, bad always changes the side
Good is always in simple life, bad always watches his back
Good is always in simple word, bad always talks complicated
Good is always in simple fun, bad always tired to understand
Good is always in simple hope, bad always tries to control the world
Good is always in simple choice, bad always looks what’s the point
Good is always in simple act, bad always counts the advantage
Good is always in simple thing, bad always exaggerates what have been
poem by Maria Sudibyo
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The Cuckoo
That's the cuckoo, you say. I cannot hear it.
When last I heard it I cannot recall; but I know
Too well the year when first I failed to hear it -
It was drowned by my man groaning out to his sheep 'Ho! Ho!'
Ten times with an angry voice he shouted
'Ho! Ho!' but not in anger, for that was his way.
He died that Summer, and that is how I remember
The cuckoo calling, the children listening, and me saying 'Nay'.
And now, as you said, 'There it is', I was hearing
Not the cuckoo at all, but my man's 'Ho! Ho!' instead.
And I think that even if I could lose my deafness
The cuckoo's note would be drowned by the voice of my dead.
poem by Edward Thomas
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The Only Voices I hear Are On The Inside
I was born not being able to hear
Born not hearing my mother tell me I'm dear
Born never listening to anyone who spoke to me
Born not enjoying music
Born without the ability to gauge sound, unable to hear the clock tick
But since the day I was born
Since before I could talk, I could scorn
There was one thing I always did hate
And that was the thing deepest inside of me,
The thing for which I cursed fate
Worse than deafness or being unable to see
Since the day I was born I heard voices
Not when loved ones talked, but voices that weren't my choice
To hear, voices that were inside my head
Voices that nobody else heard, but I didn't know if they were lying
Because my hearing has always been dead
I'd hear screeching or dying
When none was there
Those voices they'd tell me what to do and how could I deny them?
They were, they are, and they will be the only ones who care
Because they're the only one that speak to me, I can't find the sin
That I committed to be born like this, to be born broken
I've heard more conversations than any other man
And yet I've never heard man utter a word, through my whole lifespan
The only voices I hear are on the inside
And it's the greatest torment that I hide
They'll just tell me I'm crazy, well in writing
But these voices, they accept me, they sing
These voices they know because they've talked to me
These voices are the only I've ever known the
The first voices I've ever heard
Like a mother, I've never listened to a singing bird
But I've listened to a cacophonous symphony of arguing inside my head
These voices are like the woman I did not choose, but wed
I can't separate myself from them
The only time I hear anything, it's torment to condemn
Me, it's funny that I could never speak to anyone but myself
But I guess I've never, ever, been lonely... not ever.
I
Have
Never
Been
Alone
W ho could save me from myselves?
poem by David Knox
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Train Man
And over in the teacher's home she waited by the phone
For calls which never rang, and people who never sang
Train man rambled dusty into town and made his daily round
Train man and he comes in the night
brings her no love but he's right
Yes he's right
Through fog and misty morning dew, she'd seen his oily face
and he had touched her heart, taken it apart
Though he never stopped to speak a word his voice was all she heard
Train man and he comes in the night
brings her no love but he's right
Yes he's right
Little girl you're a pretty little girl
Won't you come with me a while
Little girl in your frilly little world
Won't you give me your sweet smile
(first solo)
If you come tonight bring someone
If you come tonight bring someone
Don't come alone
If you come alone don't come
Don't come
Don't come
(solo)
Yes i know he's right
Yes i know he's right
oh I know he's right
fade...
She held his hand and whispered soft
I love you train man
He just grumbled like engine as it rumbles
And said someday
Train man and he knows something's wrong and he's right
Oh yes he's right
song performed by by Bob Seger
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Feelings Dainty Petals Of A Flower!
The feelings dainty petals of a flower
Is It So Easy? ….feelings so delicate
To walk away from someone hurt, than to extend a helping hand
To close the door from them, than create an understanding band
To look through them than to see their real unexplained pain
To keep away and the reservations and not share the strain
To give a deaf ear rather than a good honest positive hearing
To judge hastily instead of a kind gentle understanding
To label than to comprehend the quality, quantity reason
To refrain from analysing the goodness of every season
o shove away the inexpressible pain deep down seen in ones eye
To walk away from the tears the uncaring hands fails to driy
To silence the aching words a well planned decision to oppress
To push away those who have no voice and are depressed
To reject when the need for a simple hug and words so kind
To let the disabled struggle and to their emotions be blind
To let distress dominate and not dip into the pain of the heart
And when that soul is finally gone, will it be a sigh of relief on your part?
So take a look at the soul that walks alone with lips sealed and hands tied
Tomorrow will you be happy that not once did you ever help the pain to subside? ?
poem by Shirani Ibrahim
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Stories Of Hope Series #7 Is It Golden Or Is It Blind
Silence is golden or so they say
But how many can keep quite for a full day?
What about the people who were born to preach?
What would they do if they could not teach.
Then I take the opposite view: what would you do?
If you was born deaf never hearing a sound
No birds chirping, no dogs barking, no cats meowing
No laughter. These are the things the deaf are after.
SOUNDS! sounds of music, of joy, happiness.
But I was born blind.
I had hopes to one day see, and all my classmates laughed at me.
They said: you was born in darkness, and in darkness
You will be, from now and through eternity.
I learned colors, not by sight, but by emotions
And I practiced it with devotion.
They said my mother was traumatized during
her pregnancy, and somehow it affected me.
The doctors checked and could not understand why
That I had turned out blind.
My blindness became my greatest strength
Because it fine tuned my hearing.
I am blind and the deaf can not hear
But we have instincts beyond compare.
The deaf can not hear all the sounds of the world
Including a child at play, and for
my hearing I thank GOD every day.
The school then put me with a roommate who was deaf
And we got along swell, we showed each other how
It was to live in each others hell.
He covered up my ears so that I could not hear a sound
And I learned how to get around.
I did the same thing to him and blindfolded him
So that he could not see, and with all this we lived in harmony.
By doing this we learned a lesson that no one could teach
That even being deaf and blind, they could be reached.
I showed him that with a metal tip on a walking stick
You could feel the vibrations of different things
Foot steps, cars, “even music.’
Now that he could hear through the tip of a stick
He learned to dance really quick.
And although I could not see.
I held on to his waist
And he said: “follow me.’
Now I am going for some surgery, that they said
May help me see.
HOPE has rekindled in my heart, but from my friend
I did not want to part.
He let me know that he would stay by my side
And not to give up my hope, but to continue to strive.
He was with me every step of the way, and to GOD
I did pray. I thanked my lord up above for sending
Me this friend and sharing his love.
Three weeks later they took the band aids from my eyes
And the first thing that I saw when my eyes were clear
Was my friend standing there.
Tears filled our eyes as we embraced
For I was blessed by the HOLY GRACE.
He still can not hear, but he was the best man
At my wedding, and showed all the guests how to dance
If there Is someone who will give you a chance.
HOPE IS THE KEY TO SET YOU FREE
poem by Louis Rams
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Variations on the Word Love
This is a word we use to plug
holes with. It's the right size for those warm
blanks in speech, for those red heart-
shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing
like real hearts. Add lace
and you can sell
it. We insert it also in the one empty
space on the printed form
that comes with no instructions. There are whole
magazines with not much in them
but the word love, you can
rub it all over your body and you
can cook with it too. How do we know
it isn't what goes on at the cool
debaucheries of slugs under damp
pieces of cardboard? As for the weed-
seedlings nosing their tough snouts up
among the lettuces, they shout it.
Love! Love! sing the soldiers, raising
their glittering knives in salute.
Then there's the two
of us. This word
is far too short for us, it has only
four letters, too sparse
to fill those deep bare
vacuums between the stars
that press on us with their deafness.
It's not love we don't wish
to fall into, but that fear.
this word is not enough but it will
have to do. It's a single
vowel in this metallic
silence, a mouth that says
O again and again in wonder
and pain, a breath, a finger
grip on a cliffside. You can
hold on or let go.
poem by Margaret Atwood
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Sound Of Silence
Mute to words of reason,
Lost intention gropes
Dim in the memory
Of a past forbidden love and hope
That seem forever lost...
Echoes still persist,
Repeating the message
Delivered by suggestion
In the deafness of language...
Empty, empty canyons
Make louder wanting sounds
And their silent ways
Become vivid footprints
Of mindful grounds...
Tunes ardently played once,
Impressing within her ears,
The sphere of sound
That now she cannot longer hear...
©All Rights Reserved-2012
poem by Romeo Della Valle
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Speak The Word
Unsettled hearts
Promise what they cant deliver
Bring me the wine
And the cold night air to clear my head
Gray matter memory house
Master of this trembling flesh
Steady still my doubts
Let me speak the word that precedes bliss
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
These weakened knees
Have not touched ground or pew in ages
I havent bowed my head
I offer thanks to any God or to ask for favors
But watch me now
Im falling down
Praying
To speak the word that precedes bliss
To speak the word
To speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Love love love love love love love love
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
Let me speak the word
song performed by by Tracy Chapman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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