Best Deafness Poems
Old Clarry was deaf; yes deaf as a post,
and couldn't hear a word that was said.
But he'd sit alone while we conversed,
when we gathered in young Harry's shed.
I suppose old age gets us all in the end,
but Clarry's still here and he's ninety two.
He doesn't need glasses and his heart is okay;
it's just this deafness that has come through.
Then one day at our get-together,
Clarry with a grin had something to tell,
he said the doctors had found him a cure,
and now he can hear us as clear as a bell.
I said to Clarry "That's just amazing;
they've reversed your ears on the wane.
Your family must be over the moon,
to know you can hear them again".
Old Clarry grinned "I ain't told the family,
I don't think their hearts could stand the strain.
I just sit in me chair and hear what they say.
I've changed me will twice and intend to again”.
In a way I envy deaf people.
For they never have to hear
The words that leave your mouth.
They don't have to hear the wars
Of insults that rage in school
Halls.
In a way I mourn deaf people.
For they never get to hear
Spoken poems or a piano's
Music.
Which is better,
Never to hear guile
Or
Never to hear beauty.
I just hit the wall.
I am not crying to it. It is filled
with peeping holes. Light strobes
there are none because it is dark
out here.
What do you think of me?
I can sing. I chant weird mumbles
that passersby frown at. I howl
like a dog in heat, begging
to be copulated. At times I am quieter
I spit insults and laugh generously
catching my breath. What else? Ah..I shout
like: I AM ASHAMED OF YOU!
WHAT DO YOU KNOW? These are lyrics?
This is a really beautiful career!
Send me the photographers
and I will show them my swear finger.
You dare enter, you dare.
I can smell your mind,
decomposing into a routine sameness:
a foul kind of stagnation.
I am your judge.
I should say it is not lack of language
that you suffer. It is deafness.
Yes, there are these lines that will not
come through, simply break up, can not
hold our minds, or
it is your head now choking with weeds
strangled by assumed perceptions
that you can not truly perceive.
Do not deceive me.
Ignore me if you can. But it is over
I have conquered. And you lie bleeding
at the mercy of verse.
Living in a world of darkness.
Could I do it?
Could I imagine it?
Could I relate?
Could I?
Living in a silent world.
Could I do it?
Could I be this brave?
Could I stand it?
Could I?
Living in a world of hate.
Could I do it?
Could I survive?
Could I glean any happiness?
Could I?
As they watched a field of flowers gently swaying in the breeze
sitting mesmerized and awed
A young girl looked at her dad and signed.
“Daddy, do you believe in God?”
Her father paused a moment
stroked the hairs upon her head
then looked into her eyes
“I do.” He signed and said.
“Do you ever wonder why,” she signed
as from her eye he saw a tear
“why God would put me into a world
in which I cannot hear”?
“When I think of all the sounds I’m missing…
all the music…all the songs…
I wonder…did I do something to hurt God’s feelings?
Did I do something wrong?”
“Oh no honey.” Her dad signed softly with his hands.
“Some things in life we just don’t know…
we may never understand.”
“None of us are perfect…I don’t think we’re meant to me
but you don’t have to be perfect to be beautiful to me.”
“When it comes to your hearing…I don’t know…
though an answer you are owed…
Perhaps it’s so you wan’t take for granted
the other gifts you’ve been bestowed.”
It’s true you have no hearing…
and that problem is severe
And you will never have the chance to hear
the beautiful things I hear…
“But perhaps without your hearing
you see the world with more clarity…
And there is a beauty in your silence that I will never see.”
“Someday, perhaps, we’ll have our answers…
Until then by however we view beauty may we be awed..
And know every time I see you…he signed
I see the hand of God.”
I lost my voice, it wasn't my choice
Friends said, "I'll keep an eye out."
Like it's their favorite joke
And I laughed right along with 'em
But it made me think, just for a moment
This must be what it's like
To be born without one
What must it be like
To be born without one
Without a voice, in a noisy world
Where the quiet ones are just ignored
And the loudest ones get all the glory
What must it be like to have no voice
In this world
I have a friend who teaches ASL
To people who couldn't hear it
If a freight train sat down right beside them
And I thought, "How lonely it must feel
To never hear the joke
'Specially when it's on you
My voice'll come back in a day or two
I'll miss it and sharing my point of view
But my friends have heard it
They're happy for the break
And when it's back
I should be a little more eager
To share the voice I have
With someone who has none
To raise the voice I have
For someone who doesn't sound like me
Maybe I could lend an ear, to one whose greatest fear
Is being left out of the conversation
Missing sorrow and elation
Of inclusion and belonging
Someone who's been longing
To belong