It’s Sunday –
a snow-dreamy morning…
The mad, embroidered Moon hangs
on the cloth of the sky.
Amidst a barren land I see
a speak-burning tree.
I am so dispirited.
By the roadside chapel, a small boy listens
to the deaf-mute woman…
through touch.
Spring morning,
quiet. One coyote,
three deer
running in snow.
What else have I seen?
A sparrow hawk in mid-air snatch
a robin, a sharp-shinned hawk catch
a rabbit in its talons.
A deaf mute in a pear tree.
Not one wolverine
in Utah or Italy.
Nor a famous samurai.
A young black bear
traverses the lawn in August.
Also quarks. Also oaks.
Do not disturb their progress!
A red fox
alert, no limp
flows silently
across the meadow.
First light, green tea.
A person thinking
epochs and eons.
A platoon of chickadees.
When I was thirteen we watched Friday night fright night
scared to death, to the edge of our seat, screaming in terror
it was the best night of the week, my cousins and I thought
someone usually spent the night at our house to be terrified by it
the scariest movie I ever saw was The Tingler
starring Vincent Price, an obsessed doctor
the tingler was a terrifying parasitic creature
developed out of spinal cords of frightened people
if they screamed, the tingler could be destroyed
a deaf mute who could not scream died from The Tingler
We screamed and screamed at the bathroom scene
until our mom told us to stop it, because it was annoying Dad.
I can hardly even imagine seeing it in a theater for the first time
because the tingler escaped and ran amok in a movie theater
I imagine the theater goers were screaming their heads off too
there is no one scarier than Vincent Price, tingler or no tingler
I do salute your Irish gall. 'You' have the balls, I should say,
Among Western hens that lie down false super-cocks to obey.
Let them cluck, wear beards, have moustache to pretend they, too, are men.
'You' and the likes of 'you', Lady, mold the future peace today.
Let others think of their bellies and what they have beneath them,
Rise and fall as dust motes in winds and be happy with their way.
Let them pop up as heated corns for the blue-eyed, blond-haired folks
And ignore the dark-featured souls now as they did yesterday,
Shamelessly choose to be deaf-mute when their lands invade others,
And blind to their own 'legal' crimes, impudently turn away,†
But for the others' invasion of a land their fusses rise
To the heaven's seventh region. A black man's a castaway.
We should rage against the liars of the West till they go gray
And their old hypocrites' empire reaches its fated decay.
March 12, 2022
* Lady Clare Daly is a member of the European Parliament
† From 248 military operations in the world from 1948 to 2001, 201 cases (%81) have been initiated by the USA.
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=TfyeJSfGrnw
No comments, please!
Deaf-mute couple
express their love
for each other
through...
Sign-Language
Aww...
Ain't it cute?
Writing Challenge - Septolet Form - Poetry Contes (Winner: 2nd Place)
Sponsored by Constance La France
Date Written: 10/05/2020
THE MUTED FALL
I lead against the walls of injustice
I've fallen
As I place my ear on the wall, I hear you calling
What shall a lame deaf mute do
For he too has fallen
When Rico call,
it’s best to press delete ... quickly
Let the message fall
on a deaf -mute discreet ... hurriedly
When you see Rico coming,
walking down
the shady side of the street,
I advise,
you better get to fast pace stepping
Don’t greet his eyes ...
urgently run to the other side
Lower your friendly pride,
and start beep-beep moving like a felon
If he catches you
then you better hope that his five-dollar ask,
don’t get bumped into
a six-finger handshake W squeeze eleven
When Rico call,
receiving bad news is a given
And his sympathy card
always got a “Help Me” donation that’s missing
Needing you to do
some extra charity ball Benjamin fixing
When Rico call,
it’s best for you to delete that phone pall —
Do it quickly ... don’t stall
He’s gon surely ask for an unpaid favor
Babel Tower small,
and another loan install
Dread when you hear Rico’s celly ring,
it can only mean
one vexing, request thing —
How much cash can you instantly bring
She had to use sign language being she was born a deaf mute; but when she showed him her homemade heart all was understood.
4-5-18
There's a reason by my rhymes, but the angles acute,
Read inside of the lines, I'm only heard by the deaf-mute
The dead truth, is questionable you ask me for a fable
I'll let you respond to your self, see if your mind is able
'Cause Cain and Able, solved the first problem with violence
Violence will always be an option, until the devil is silenced
Let the violins, string on but there's never gonna be peace
We're missing a piece, unity is what we need at the least
Let the beat, roll on so you can vibe out in your zone
Let it provide you with privacy, so in the beat you're alone
And know, that inside of the beat is a million thoughts galore
Walking into those thoughts, is like opening up a locked door
You clocked war, within time the battlefield will immense
You're in the mind of a writer, and the war is intense
In past tense, it was hard but you made it and you slayed it
You knocked on a writers mind, so the writer portrayed it
In A Writer's Mind, you see through the Earth's core
In A Writer's Mind, you boil the lava and you destroy
In A Writer's Mind, you're a warrior in an innocent frame
In A Writer's Mind, you turn the alphabet insane
Silk scarved words; silver lined apocalypse-
A distant stars regret will not ever
Surmount rash amounts of emotion, this
Disgusting leak of Heart, preyed on. Never
To match sunstroked day breaking; wint'ry
Fragments protrude strangely from corpse smiles
Which speak speak drifting incantations with me,
A deaf mute, caged by the shine of your eyes.
Traversing a circle of little Death,
A cycle of red and blues: cardiac
Arrest of the sweetest sortings; now to mesh
Touch with sultry glances that counteract
Vocal chords on the offensive. Nothing
Beyond other's whispers, not worth hearing.
"Silver Lining"
Jenna-Nichole Conrad
Wordsmith
(Disclaimer: I could not find a correct, per-se, form to put this under. The rhyme scheme and syllable counting match Shakespearean Sonnets, but I would consider this more of a 'Free Verse' Sonnet. As there was no proper category for me to submit this under, and I do not want readers to believe I am submitting wrong or falsely promoting my work.)
you can have your Mr Sorbo,
men about, i doesn't dream,
but that big dark girl in sandal's
who wields a sword so mean,
could get a deaf mute Camel,
to utter words obscene,
mind games hey baby doll,
no one comes here in between.
Don :(
She seeks Mr. Right
Someone who’s simply awesome
A strong, intelligent man
Tall dark and handsome
A King or a Prince
Healthy wealthy and wise
A good conversationalist
With come to bed eyes
Generous to a fault
Patient and kind
Devotedly attentive
And domestically inclined
A constant companion
A lover and a friend
A man of substance
On whom she can depend
But if a man seeks a woman
Then a deaf-mute, with no sense of smell,
Large breasted nymphomaniac
Contortionist would suit well
Did you ever read
the hope in folks' eyes
when they worship?
It's like watching
the homeless
wait in line
for some pea soup!
I see that hope
as gigantic
as a big base drum
being drummed by
the deaf mute
who plays it
feeling its sound.
I hear that hope
in the low
of the cow
who runs to the farmer
as he feeds her.
Hope in worship
happily comes from
the desire to be
close with God
like we'll be
for eternity.
SKB
You see just behind that sight there's nothing
you can't see, you can't look, you are blind.
and just beyond that sound you can't hear,
not a snap, not a whisper, or a chime (deaf and blind)
and when all your secrets are told you can't talk
no sound, no wind, no words, (deaf, mute, blind)
and just past that chill up your spine you can't feel
no emotion, no sensation, nothings real.
some people say when you die you will see,
but others say it's a version of hell,
that you go to when you try to see too far past your realm.
inulgence, self righteousness, worship, and kill.
so that you make and feel what you choose to be real.
some call it sweeping dust under the rug.
others call them skeletons in your closet.
but they'll soon catch up with you
if you do or don't want it
cause karma's got it's own clock of vengence lists
and kid, you're on it.
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