Best Deafens Poems
**For Ruben O, My little Bro**
(This poem was written and a recording made for the contest sponsored by Team Poetrysoup which was deleted before it was judged. I wonder if this would have received a placement?)
Alarming, how analog clocks can tock back,
sound-off each morning like those hungover barflies
at the laundromat who dive-bomb
buzzing dryers as bleached belles
in heels attack threadbare tiles
with a stomach-turning, M60 click clack,
click clack. All night cafes fare
no better, terrify with their red-eyed twit-ter-
to-woo owls, their jingle-jangle spoons.
Heartlessly, the freaky knock-knock joke
of a barista smacks-down the expresso machine —
grounds for a massacre behind the counter.
The plink-plunk of rainfall deafens.
Birthdays send you into a panic. Too risky,
the onslaught of jubilation, the grenades that wait
in overblown balloons. New Year’s Eve brings histrionics.
Nightmarish, the yellow chimeras of construction
and every screaming chick-a-dee-dee-dee...
Ear plugs are a given.
Heaven is a soundproof room.
Even that plan holds more than a hiccup or two.
Horror resounds everywhere.
Babies thunder by in hot-rod strollers.
Frightening: the gurgles, giggles, ear-splitting rattles.
In the nursing home, an awful rasp of life
roars behind a tissue-thin curtain,
the horrendous lisp of oxygen, so deathly loud.
Tears trace ebony stains across the smooth skin on your cheeks.
Early morning thoughts in early morning darkness,
clouds of confusion and pain fog your mind.
Life, so heavy, pushes you down, deeper and ever deeper,
until you feel your soul squeezing through every pore in your body.
The tears bitter on your lips, your thoughts dark
no love can you see, the flame has become ash
no sound of laughter, the quiet deafens
nothing remains but darkness, loneliness,
sadness.
Drops drip slowly between your shadowy fingers
pressing tightly, pinching your skin, pain, it's something.
Your bottomless pit swallows you in depression.
Gentle sobs disturbing no one, no one will ever know.
I know.
Your crying in the dark I feel
mirrored so closely by my own pain.
If for only a moment you would lean on me,
I would give the world to you, happiness and joy
if only it were mine to give... if only.
09/05/15
I perch on a rock
by white teal-roofed bungalows,
resting after my journey.
Autumn's early bloom
is a choir of falling leaves
by a quiet rippling stream.
The silence deafens
as bright notes waft like snowflakes
to earth in Fall's madrigal.
I, a songless bird,
rejoice in observation.
The rippling stream chimes for me.
Before gathering gloom takes away our eyes,
Let’s fill them with dandelions’ dance.
Before our mouths are closed by the curfew of age,
Let’s deposit in them the taste of kisses.
Before dusk deafens our ears,
Let them hear the just and the righteous sing.
Before sweet scents are sent away,
We’ll feast on the potpourris of wines and seas.
Before the world is a stranger to our hands,
Let the sun press into them the shapes of light.
And when our hearts can no more crave,
They shall declare, “My riches? You have no idea.”
These days are short, as I begin
to walk—my daily custom now—
toward the place where, after
treatment, you lie resting.
I dream each day of when
I'll come and take you home.
But then I hear my name,
whispered on the wind, and
words besides that simply say,
"Sundial. Five o'clock today.
A message waits for you."
And with this, the wind falls silent.
On langourous summer days we'd often
wander in the park until we came to
where that sentinel of silence stood and
watched, as minutes drifted by,
implacably, the gnomon's shadow gliding—
one polished marble marker to the next.
Well into season now, the
autumn air has chilled my face.
And westward, the ruddy sun's
disk settles, its destiny fulfilled.
I look down toward the dial just
as the shadow grows indistinct.
The mark etched there means
that five o'clock has just passed.
I pause awhile but then turn back
to where l had just come, for
in the silence there that deafens,
I know that you are gone.
Dedicated to those who have lost a loved one to the Covirus and disdain for those who don't seem to care; their number is legion.
When the sound of silence, wails
And sobs of crying deafens our fearful minds
Our streets are cold and empty
And there’s no one to be found
Only the shuffling of City workers
As they clean a ghostly town
Storms are silently raging
Uncertainties abound
My soul is contemplating
Disaster is all around
Eyes steering out at the invisible
Imagining faces they once knew
Smiles gaged to breathless
As death takes our point of view
A virus not only taking bodies
But our laughter and our joy
In dire need of a savior
We pull a vaccine from the clouds
Ending are here…
Everything is changing fast
Life is not the same
In this New World Order
Vaccination is not a game
If you don’t conform
In darkness, you’ll remain
Someone turned off the sun
And left us in the rain
Storms are silently raging
Uncertainties abound
My soul is contemplating…
The misery life’s become
Everything is changing
Nothing is the same
May the forces protect you
In this viral age
Soundtrack by Ofshane
Written by Arturo Michael
SEVEN CANDLES
Balloon hysteria,
Paper hat pandemonium,
Blur of arms and legs,
Dance music deafens.
Seven candles in one big blow -
Almost impossible.
Carefully wrapped presents stripped fast -
Ankle deep in patterned paper.
Same next time;
Except eight candles.
An affection grown from pubescent soil, watered with innocent infatuation
Leaves of dreams gently budding, off naïve branches of a youth shortened.
The roots, ventricles of a choice-less heart, her fate twisted by a mothers hate.
No stopping nature’s fruition, and now the growth, the change, will not abate.
Her spring leaves, open and green, stretch brilliantly to reach the sunlight.
Her roots of youth still soft and warm, her sun remains golden and bright.
But his roots go far deeper than hers, once green leaves are already changing.
Growing stiff with age, as they reach deep into a sky that is steadily graying.
The years between them, once not so many, now shade her with their height.
She can’t stop the cold fear of abandonment, someday being left in his night.
Her heart wanders over the fruit, so delicately hanging off her branches.
Who will pick them up when they fall, when he is no longer there to catch them?
Will she watch his leaves flutter to the ground for years, while hers remain crisp?
When hers just begin to tinge with color, what will be the state of his?
Perhaps the soil of innocence should have been sated with more wisdom
So that she might have better acknowledged the future yet to come.
Never to know if it would have made any difference, not wishing it would be.
Just unable to fight the realization that her winter of life may be lonely.
Sixteen years were just another number then, seven years has changed the way she feels
Each year now deafens with its ring, creaking branches and wrinkled bark makes it real.
What will become of her in years to come, will she remain up on her hill alone
Mourning his once strong branches, solemnly tending all that he has sewn?
She imagines that this will be her fate; the acceptance is agony with a silent shout.
But she relishes the days she knows she has with love, because that is what life is about.
Your touch kills
Your voice deafens
Your sight blinds
You make me sick!
People like you should be shot
Yeah, I've heard that before
Infact, I've heard it quite a lot
You can't claim me as yours
And after that escapade
Im done with you furthermore
Im not property
Im not a toy
I dont belong to you
Im not here for your "Joy"
So sickeningly sweet
You make me sick
So disgustingly fake
You make me sick
You think its all a game
You make me sick
Will you get bored
When its all played out
Another word, another nail
With all your lies
Your words have gone pale
Seeing through your eyes
I know now, its all a blur
Do you know what you're doing
Or is everything on a spur
Dont pretend to be human
It doesnt suit you
Nor or you beast or alien
You have no kind
So sickeningly sweet
You make me sick
So disgustingly fake
You make me sick
You think its all a game
You make me sick
Will you get bored
When its all played out
Where are your voices, Me-too, Planned Parenthood, NOW
your Jewish sisters violated, raped by the dozens - How
come you've gone quiet,
your silence deafens ...
Those Jewish sisters supported you during hard times
contributed big bucks, marched with you to protest crimes ...
Now, your covert antisemitism ~
your future credibility threatens
I rage, my need for you bleeding helpless
tied, bound by these silken ropes of love
my cries will never reach your side, my life
over the music that deafens my heartbeats
I stand mute and solo without you
till we belong to each other
even if that destroys who you are
you will only belong to our love
even if that kills us...
There is a riot in my heart exploding me apart
the burning blood of your beauty razing reason's rampart,
defenses devised by decades of destructive love
surround my soul with swords sharpened on evil known of,
I need you to breech the war barrior, to rescue my red potential
break the black bricks of the sorrow wall with a woman's wherewithal,
we will pay Fate's ransom for union legend
with unbroken breaths of lovers impassioned -
A Collaboration From The Quills Of Bindu & Justin
You are not a member of our family
Therefore we choose to lock you outside our door
Banishishing you to never
Never again darken our door
Your emaciated hands have lost their strength
The whispers you shout have fallen on deaf ears
We have always been stonger than you
Within your grip we have discovered our own resilience
Losing our appetite for your false promises
This pathway emerges beyond your darkness
Time deafens us to your whispers
For long enough we have been your domino effect
Feel our weight as we align ourselves against you
Our borders have been fortified
Consciencely built brick by brick
The mortar of our love extricating you from our spaces
Our new mosaic formed in light
New possibilities
Today is the beginning of this
This power
This life
This realization
That as you shrink
Our world enlarges
Until you are less
Less than nothing
Replaced by freedom
The way we are meant to be
Empowered and filled
With an appetite for living
My wife is the team leader for an eating disorder program here in Kelowna.
I wrote this as a way to empower families to align together against the disorder.
www.wisedummypoet.com
Absurdity
Behind the closed portal and the open door,
stands the lonely legless man with his paramour.
He is singing silently
in the peace of night violently
a nocturnal sunrise
of miserly giving called nameless
absurdity.
With the stroke of midnight and the bells of high noon,
is the sunless side of a bright full moon
it's florescence darkens
paths blocked by people smartly
stupidly cunningly planned on
lush arid land in
absurdity.
In the quiet of the day is a cacophony
the most pleasant of uncoordinated harmonies
an insane, intense lullaby
that deafens silently softly
a song of shame haughtily
carries the same variation
of noise depravation for
absurdity.
In total darkness
My helpless naked body
Like a mere rag doll
Is tossed precariously
Into the cursing unforgiving
freezing sea
My body in shock
I am petrified filled with fear
And find it hard to breath.
My limbs tossed and thrown about
At the mercy of the towering cursing waves
That has taken so many unmercifully
To the murky depths
And a watery grave.
The freezing cold cuts and bites my tender skin
And as I swirl around against my will
My head is in a spin
I'm getting tired and more tired
As the waves crash and get increasingly higher
Drifting in and out of consciousness
Never knowing what will happen next
And when I will expire.
I just want to sleep
I hope I will soon die
I give out primal screams
But there's no one to hear my cries.
The sheer noise of the thunderous waves
Deafens me and hurts my ears
I become delusional
Calling out for mother
And cry so many tears.
I sense the sharks are gathering
To frenziedly rip and tear my flesh
And drag me down into those dark, freezing murky depths.
My bones to lay on the ocean bed
And soon to be covered by silt and sand
Soon to be forgotten
As though I'd never existed as a person
Or a man
At peace at last.
Peter Dome copyright.2014.
Sight...as eyes embrace
A thousand words resonate
With each photograph they take
Taste...seed soil ,and harvest DNA
Remeberence of past flavors saturate
Intuition...the mind grasp hidden anger, joys and fears
Touch... As gentle hands embrace
Each takes the pulse of grace
Smell...Scent memory is retained as distance subtles fragrance
Lover's pheremones , our unburied dead
... and war's bloodshed
Hearing...As observant ears embrace
the words of joy, fear and all emotions resonate
As age deafens , unheard , is the sound of music and children's words
As death silences , the meaning of sound ends
As our first born's begins