In the debate between dubbing and subbing
I side with subs to savor the original
mellifluous French, Tamil, Korean, Italian...
Reading the subtitles assists the deaf
and hard of hearing although voiceovers
benefit the blind and vision impaired.
Historically dubbing was employed
by fascist governments to advance
the nationalist agenda. In our own time
the tendency to consider dubbers dumb
implies reading’s the indispensable skill.
My wife reads her mail while watching movies
so she prefers dubs. I admire her mastery
of two idioms simultaneously
but my limited bandwidth favors subs.
There are days we live only for others
and happy to share in ours,
words of devotion
even scars.
Though I never presumed to know
or even understand..
only pretend.
But this time's not the same
this unshakable thing,
like a pain,
is not pretending.
A feeling that wakes you from a deep sleep
real, whatever that is..
transcending all moments that came before
you.
Although still hear
so clear, another voice,
one that claims to be sane
'I didn't want this'.
Damn all this weakness.
The other says 'show me..,
do not tell me in a whisper'.
Like a drumbeat in the desert wind..
love is hard of hearing.
Once more, I am thinking about writing -
coils are uncoiling,
snakes study the intricate anatomy
of legs and next steps.
My audience of one
must be propped up as if yet still alive,
geriatric words must be given their shots.
I can tell it's going to be a performance,
the poem is even now going off script.
It babbles; the entire cast of 'Hamilton'
has just walked out in protest.
Only Prokofiev and his 3rd piano concerto
can save me now, his notes are jungle drums
for the hard of hearing,
however, the write is not a musical
or a concert. It's, it's err...
Anyway, it is almost teatime.
Already the critiques
are sharpening their pencils.
I pull apart my white fancy actors' shirt,
buttons pop exposing the telltale signs
of recent romantic heart surgery.
Now an overwrought muse is yelling in my ear.
Dammit,
I simply cannot write another thing
under these circumstances.
I box up the coiling snakes,
exit left.
She promenaded in wearing a cake on her head
This made us all laugh except dour uncle Ted
Happy birthday she sang in a high soprano voice
What did she say? Asked hard-of-hearing old Royce.
With a flourish she plunked the cake onto a table.
A distant cousin, our cake-designing wonder Miss Mable.
We were all glad she had come, and brought us this fine cake.
We gave grandpa a party, and a tasty chocolate shake.
"We come into the world alone and we die alone." ~ Diogenes
What was that, Diogenes?
Speak a bit louder if you please.
I'm old and hard of hearing,
and I fear my death is nearing.
Well, anyway, I've never died,
so, I couldn't tell you if I tried,
but I heard Death's pretty skinny -
meat on his bones, he hasn't any.
On that sad day your number comes up,
and he's at your door, don't give up.
Bar the windows and lock the door.
Disguise your voice, try to ignore
him, but you know he'll get 'ya,
and everyone will soon forget ya',
which I suppose is just as well.
You'll have worse problems down in Hell.
When you die, it's really a shame,
but you only have yourself to blame.
You didn't have to eat it all,
but you never worried 'bout cholesterol.
I hope God will hold my hand,
that really would be mighty grand;
and I ask for His forbearance.
Please don't send that angel Clarence.
What's that Death? I can't hear ya'.
You look all scary, but I don't fear ya'.
Come again some other day.
I think I'll go outside to play.
Without respect it is hard to find peace,
Without respect Love may be one sided,
Without respect we tend to become hard of hearing,
Without respect opportunities to grow are limited,
Without respect hate finds it easy to gain a foothold,
Without respect it is easy to lie and cheat,
Without respect a short life will seem long.
The Parrot
The bird in the cage has featherless wings folded
to the naked body like squeaking scissors
I'm 89 today let, me out of this bloody cage!
Its owner is hard of hearing, is the widow of a war
veteran, I think the First World War
She tells everyone she meets, 8 million horses and
12 million donkeys were killed on the battlefield and no one
took notice
Humanity only thought of their suffering and were
impervious to animals' feelings, more, a wounded animal was eyed as a potential meal by hungry soldiers
Dragged from a green field to a soggy battlefield and
not a word of thank you
Goulash, the famous Hungarian dish, was made from horse
flesh and camouflaged with paprika, pepper, and salt
for 89 years, the parrot had only been able to read
the titles of books on the shelf on the opposite wall
It had a lively mind and listened to the radio every day
well educated can squawk with the best of them
I will put you in myself -
to rummage,
to find,
to separate the jumbled together,
all the haphazardly stored,
all the neglected,
all the rejected and abandoned.
Salvage what you may
leave the rest,
come back to my face
peer from the corners of my eyes.
What do you see of my outer self
a bear, a cat, a sad little boy?
What did you find of me,
what worth keeping? What treasure
long buried?
Did you say nothing or something?
My heart is hard of hearing.
Tell me,
help me clean up the mess.
If you can
save something for tomorrow
a piece of 'what could have been'
would be useful.
Now leave with my dying thanks.
Be sure to shake my dust from your shoes.
They spent many happy years of married life,
hard of hearing he heard the shout of his wife.
She once told buy potato,
he bought bagful tomato,
found himself sunk in the sizzling soup of strife.
Hello can you hear me
Speaking louder is key
Make sure they see your lips
Talk slow and clear
TV is too loud
Barraged by too much sound
Silence cannot be achieved
Not even a thought can be perceived
Words misconceived
Offense received
Information missed
Miscommunication persist
Effects the young
Effects the old
Problem is ignored
Wishing their hearing was restored
Assistance they need
To help them succeed
As their hearing fades
Thankful for hearing aids
Who who who?
Who’s out there? Asked the frightened humans hiding inside.
It’s the mouse-kah-treaters, yelled out Mr. McBride.
We are singing for our supper, we’re on our knees!
Sang out the head mouse, Mr. Do-as-you -please.
Let them in! The kids yelled. Let them in! Let them in!
What do they want? Asked the human next door.
We want cheese! Candy! Cookies! Peanut butter and more!
Keep them out yelled the neighbor. I have been invaded before.
But the grandma inside who was hard of hearing, opened the door.
One day I was walking through the woods,
Since it was the quickest route to my house.
As I approached my house I heard a loud CRASH!
This was pequilier because I had been living alone for years now.
I cautiously approached my front door.
Although I was quiet, my door had other plans.
CREEEEAK.
I prayed that whatever or whoever was in my house was hard of hearing.
I continued to enter into my house.
I don't believe that it heard me, since the noises continued.
I couldn't locate where the sound was coming from so I began to check the rooms.
I kicked each door down with a BOOM!
PING! I heard from the kitchen.
The second I figured out where it was coming form I dashed to the location of the sound.
I entered the room to see a possum rummaging through my stuff.
I grabbed my trusty broom and began swatting at it.
a loud HISS from the possum startled me but I continued to shoo it out of my house.
It chewed through the insulation on my windows so I replaced it with a piece of woods in hopes that it wouldn't come back.
What is that thing? My husband asked in a persnickety way and not with glee.
I pretended I had no idea he was pointing to my new pal, Poindexter Cat.
Is it a dog? He queried. “It looks like a weird Chihuahua if you ask me.
The best idea I ever had came to me instantly, as cat curled up on the mat.
Yes! I readily agreed, that is a new kind of Chihuahua a magnificent dog!
For my husband is allergic to cats, and would never have agreed to one.
It sure is skinny, he said. Have you fed it? Please note our other pet is a hog.
I gave him some dog biscuits and dog food, I lied. I am dishonest you see.
Its head is so weird, my husband continued. Make it stop looking at me.
Poindexter was glaring at him as if he was the Devil’s right hand man.
He is a curious animal, I told him. Let him be. He wants to see all he can see.
My husband and “Poin” became the best of friends and shared some flan.
They went to the circus, and watched the acrobats and the lion.
Luckily, they were both wearing mask and they were hard of hearing.
I do not need him to know that Poindexter is a cat and I am ly’n.
If he finds out, I will be the one booted out, I am now fearing.
I got my drivers license!!!!
Now, excitement lies an easy walk from boredom.
The second school ends, I reach for the keys,
like a seedling stalk turns to the sun.
I’m soaking in this new freedom with litmus thirst.
What a spell - “combine gravel and motors for miracles,”
I say, in my best crackly witches voice.
True, my mom keeps turning the music down,
someone has to chaperone - at first
- aren’t old people supposed to be hard of hearing?
I'm anfractuous in my approach to driving goals.
“What are you laughing at,” My mom asks.
“Nothing.” I answer, confused.
Was I laughing??
Geo is an apple-polishing sycophant.
He’ll kill you too, says hard-of-hearing Grandpa Grant.
Confusing sycophant with psychopath, I guess.
The next family reunion is a horrible mess.
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