Deaf And Dumb Poems | Examples

dark coal of night

For: VIBRATIONS FROM A VERSO Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
July 24, 2025
                                        *****

in the dark coal of night
the light the light
is hidden from our sight 
each one is blind
and silent deaf and dumb
without the right 
to question why oh why
can't You be kind!

Abandon All Your Hope

“Holding on is believing that there's only a past; letting go is knowing that there's another future.”  Author unknown.

Make no bones about it. I shall never want you,
Don't waste your love on someone worthless like me.

All is lost like a fat candle lit in bright sunlight, 
Wasted as a dewdrop falling in the sea;
It's as pointless as a cold snowflake
Settling on freezing Mount Everest.

I'm deaf and dumb to your spirit, 
Perhaps I'm stone blind or have a rock instead of a heart.
Don't blame yourself; my soul is ravished by tempests past
That rage was like a tornado inside me.

I try to dredge the ancient hates.
That left me stubborn and blind, 
Swept by the hurricanes of old loves, 
An anger whirling like a rushing wind,

I weave a shade dark and benighted
To smother all that's bad.
Alas, the end result is that I cannot love.
I'm just indifferent.  Do I make myself clear?

Placed 1

Lessons Taught

Look out over the fields
In the direction of the trees
See the old man praying
While kneeling down upon his knees
Cares less for who's watching
More so for the ones that may hear
He has done this daily
Ev'ry morning for many years

No one knows his true age
Or where it was that he came from
First thought he was strange
Or that he was deaf and dumb
He once had come to church
And though he never said a word
He sang in wond'rous voice
The likes of which no ones e'er heard

He has rarely been seen
Since that day of angelic sound
Yet they're sure he's still there
Living alone on sacred ground
Many have ventured out
In hopes to see him once again
Yet they come home empty
Not even knowing where they've been

He's still there over fields
Somewhere near the cottonwood trees
Always looking this way
To see who's down upon their knees
Hears the ones who give thanks
For everything they have got
He knows they are aware
Of all the lessons they've been taught

My Hidden Broken Leg

First Part: All I see are my toes!
A constant burning and stinging sensation under this weighted plaster cast has got me bedridden. The cast is made out of plaster and is white in color that is stuffed with gauze  layered tightly with a bandage. This cast covers the severe damage from a fall a week ago that snapped my ankle bone into two like a bitter cold cucumber. I’m staring at this soft but firm cast that is unmoved and unshaken because I’m lying perfectly still waiting for it to heal. The gauze slowly is unraveling from the inside of the cast.  And my toes!

Second Part: Leg Live Life to the Fullest!
Only three living toes peek out 
From beneath the plaster my leg screams to be let out!
“Let me go!” wails my injured leg.  
Sweat slithers out; whilst my leg struggles to stay afoot. 
Waken thee leg and don’t succumb 
Don’t be downtrodden, deaf, and dumb
And leg keep dancing to a new tune 
And keep blessing yourself underneath the midnight moon!

Phoning

There are no more telephone booths,
not the old type - the glass coffins.

The Atalanta hub is rocking,
planes and people buzzing in and out
of an anthill nexus
of distracted minds.

Calling London,
a city
that has red telephone boxes,
concrete-set booths
that all ring at once.
Wrong numbers are seeking answers.
There is a cacophony
in the pressed ears of puzzlement.

The airport begins to spin around,
faster and faster,
a shaky orbit encircling speaking lips.
Dialing fingers sweat, are too thick
for changing conversations.

Talking heads are searching
for one direct call,
one line in an ethereal ball of string.

Red boxes are bellowing now,
every voice is angry,
nearby glass booths
are trembling with a frustrated rage.

All these images are an allegory
for the deaf and dumb days of yore,
a distant time locked in its own
transparent sarcophagus -
drowned-out mouths,
even now
fitfully trying to connect.

Love and Hate

love
is blind
mad persuit
they always said
but  your message clear
loud could  I hear
deaf and dumb
pulseless
hate

The Firsts Defence

Murder in the first degree, no ammendment' a tone 
Never to attune; to.' the  U S A to be deaf and dumb?
Were its constitution srruck, a mortal wound; 
Would be done! A world of opportunity; undone, the
Vital seed of true debate, free expression the chance 
To counter hate.' I appreciate as many do, a healthy 
America is better.' Reality's heart, beating beneath 
The red white and blue!

On the Edge of Disaster

The world’s on edge of a disaster,
As man both deaf and dumb has gone,
Clueless at crest with empty bluster, 
The world’s on edge of a disaster,
Helpless, man’s fallen flat, and faster,
Fruits of his sin averse to own,  
The world’s on edge of a disaster,
As man both deaf and dumb has gone.
__________________________________
Reflections |10.07.2023| Triolet, world 

Poet’s note: Triolet is a short poem of rhyme and repetition. We can call this a modern English Triolet. It is generally set in iambic foot, and ends with what is often called a masculine ending. Here, the lines rhyming with the first line end with an amphibrach (a feminine ending).

Deaf and Dumb

I met her in the orphanage that sheltered drab lives.
A young girl past her teens, deaf and dumb, 
Not by birth but through an accident.

She had a past, bright n’ beautiful.
But the free moving gears came abruptly to a painful halt.
Once her ocean was dotted with boats ready to set sail
Now she seems to drift through a vacant space,
Darting in and out of shadows.

Through gestures wild, she tries to communicate,
But mostly incomprehensible
Her face often goes into scowling,
As she fails to make herself understood. 
Yet her eyes tell a story which gleam,
At the prospect, of someone ready to listen intent.
Her inability doesn’t deter her from trying again and again,
To recount some prized incident locked up in her memory,
That is a shut vault now whose key is lost to her forever!

Yet in her bastion of darkness, a lantern still flickers!


_______________________________
May.2.2023

~Placed First~

Up to 20 Lines Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Sotto Poet

Thoughts

Echoes of the past
Lost in the passage of time,
Shadows that grow with the fading light, cast,
Morphing into erroneous snippets, spurious and serpentine,

Troubled hearts of misplaced cares,
Focusing more on beguiling schemes,
Instead of compassion, empathy, consciousness, or being aware,
Aware of the loss of self, of mind, of hope, of dreams,

We are all blind, deaf, and dumb,
the death of reasoning makes one succumb,

Who knew emptiness could have such weight?
That silence can drown you in sound?
That access to knowledge would cause wisdom to asphyxiate?
That ease would cause contentment harder to be found?

Progressions that prolong ones agony,
A few more moments that will be forgotten,
battling against objects, that kill the memory,
before the black consumes, swallowing all in,

What should one do, to keep hope near when the facts are grim?
Already bruised knees hit the floor, begging for strength, while talking to him.

No More This Time

The eyes of mild dawn on the body of sky
No nose to smell
No ear to hear
No tongue to speak and taste
No hand to touch
No leg to walk away
Just has open breast where heart is playing
A divine ancient game

White rose water on the field
Fertile land in contented embracing
Watering, planting; Watering, planting
No fertilizer comes to interfere
No locust comes to deter far
Yet, swindled all in the imperishable air 
Luster of eyes in diminution fair,
In blind, deaf and dumb gyre 

No more this time-
Within the blink of eye
Sleeping is wrecked into smile
World finds the sweet child


©Mahtab Bangalee
Chattogram
31/10/2022

Wise Owl Serene

listening watching learning ~ oh how we have become blind deaf and dumb


Rustling and bustling through the day, makes for unease--I Am

Third Place
Written 10/5/22
The Power Of Silence Poetry Contest
Sponsor: JCB Brul
Syllable Counter (17)

Fake News, the Big Lie, Jan 6th, Nothing Classified

There's a symbol for our justice,
    Holding scales while she is blind.
Yet it seems the 'MAGAteers' have extended
    This further, adding deaf and dumb to their mind.

Because they have made the choice not to
    See, hear, or think, as they ignore reality.
While they follow a corrupted voice, laden
    With false notions and irrationality.

This conviction has seduced their soul, with
    Visions of fear and lethal consequence sustained.
Using a barrage of powerful fiction, giving faith
    To a utopia without discord ... but they're ordained.

The stupidity is clearly seen, as they avoid
    Any facts that disturb their view.
As these followers become so deeply entrenched,
    They can't escape the shadow that's untrue.

Having seen the danger progress, while a
    Fragile democracy wavers on the brink.
Watching a majority come under constant attack,
    And a privileged minority tries to silence those who critically think.

Leadership

Our leadership has been anguished
Our society is malnourished
We are presented with a cup-full of disease 
Our hopes have been turned a decease

Our night has turned sour 
By the gunshots of leaders of ours 
Our youthful senility 
Has been substituted for grey hairs' agility

Our cry for help is like a shout in a deep sea
They cannot speak, hear nor see
They can't acknowledge it 'cause they are too blind, deaf and dumb 
To our plight, they went numb 

I put no trust in future of today
For my hope is lost in the abysmal of yesterday
Maybe, just maybe, thy dear God will have mercy and make their minds mature
For I retire in bright future.

Foresight

FORESIGHT


Dragging myself deeper
in the pit of despair
Trudging through things
 in need of repair

Wincing at the memories
stinging my eyes
Staring through the window
gazing at the skys

Stuck here in the mire
stuck inside myself
Feeling like I’m trapped
in a box on the shelf

Self imposed distance
from companionship
Sitting wide awake
biting on my lip

Ancestors tried to warn
of what was to come
But in my infinite wisdom
I chose blind, deaf and dumb

Tears upon my pillow
things that could have been
If what I know now
I had chosen to learn then

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