Long Hard of hearing Poems
Long Hard of hearing Poems. Below are the most popular long Hard of hearing by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Hard of hearing poems by poem length and keyword.
I know that I’m not perfect, just go and ask me wife.
At times she’s kind of said - I’m the bane of her life,
but on her better days she wouldn’t trade me for a thing,
and sometimes she has even thanked me for the ring.
Sometimes I overlook a mite and pile clothes on the floor;
leave a beer can in the lounge room or forget to shut a draw.
The toilet seat might be left up; grease in the bathroom sink,
and of course I cop a barrage - “Don’t you ever bloody think!”
I put up a slight defence I s’pose to save me on the skids,
I reminded her I’m not as bad as either of our kids,
but remarks like that cause suffering; the vote goes three to one,
so I had to do some crawling for the damage that I done.
The crawling that I had to do is behind their Mother’s back,
but once again a big mistake saw her leading an attack.
In a request for gaining brownie points I should have chose a cat,
but the kids insist they wanted me - to buy them a pet rat.
We snuck this rat into the shed and they both named it Brad,
but our female ‘Sergeant Major’ went completely bloody mad.
She really stuck the boots in; especially into me …
making promise of a firing squad if neglect soon came to be.
But both the kids then promised to satisfy their Mother’s rage,
that Brad will be looked after; well fed in the cleanest cage.
They pampered Brad for two months - treated like a king,
then the novelty wore off - Mum was doing everything.
So at the dinner table Mum declared she’d had enough.
Maintaining to our children that it has got too tough.
He’s too much work for one and because that one is me,
he’s going to have to leave and the kids did half agree.
Then Mother added furthermore, “I’m sick of his daily mess,
and right now I note he’s eating, and drinking to excess.”
Me eldest boy then quietly spoke, by adding “Mum you’re right,
if he didn’t eat and drink so much, he could stay is that right?”
Mum responded firmly, “Correct, he could stay for evermore,
if he had used better manners and cleaned his mess off the floor,
now go to the shed and grab the cage, and in the car put Brad …”
“Brad!” Me youngest ‘fella’ bawled - “We thought you said Dad.”
Twin eyes, twin perspectives
Pick your poison; they're both too hard to explain
The cloudy sphere raining down once again
While it's earthen brother quakes uncontrollably
Ten years passed as ten years started
A growling eclipse blots the sun and spreads disease
It goes by many names, many forms
As it eternally revolves far beyond my reach
The boy died in a snowstorm so long ago, it seems
Crippled from birth, stillborn, but didn't know it
As he took those shaky steps towards a dim white light
Collapsing with a crooked smile
She stepped out into the sun
Its flaming rays warming, not burning
Perhaps the first and last time Winter spurned the child
A more jealous lover than you'd expect
Through fear of failure was failure born
A butterfly's flap that would rend the very mountains
Expecting a sapling to bear the weight of a treehouse
It bends, it breaks
He lived to see his wildest dreams come true
Invincible behind his suit of armor
Light refracting brilliantly on that prism
Casting the darkest shadow behind him
Even in darkest shadow
Did the tiniest embers dance in the sky
Through foul black winds
Did a flame of hope still burn
And so they stood as the monarch of a kingdom of plague
As the world outside lay rotting, so they thrived
"Nothing remains static," the snow whispered unto them once again
Kings are oft hard of hearing
Twilight burned beautifully far from civilization
As the setting sun cast brilliant shades of scarlet and violet
Sickness and death continued unabated
As the world was told to simply ignore what they saw
Lead may be sweet, but gunmetal is bitter
Salvaging wreckage from a charred castle
The sun's rays were harsh, even in shadow
What else was there to do but wait it out?
And so they looked salvation in its prismatic eyes
Hiding from one and jabbing the other
Left there on their own
Without a rainbow in the dark
It's a dazzling high number to experience
For the one who thought they'd be dead at 15
Yet here they lay, twice that and half formed
Too scared to live, yet too proud to die
I'm a speech punk; kind of a menace
Not sure if the word is permissible in these parts
But that's the word I need, life's a furnace
So flush that. Gosh, you leave me no choice
I'm trying to speak, hear my voice in the whisper
Through the walls of disparaging noise
This is the true genesis of your lyrical nemesis
Within the lofty walls of these subliminal premises
So join me in these choruses
If you are tired of all those empty promises
I know some will hold on to being cynical
And insist that so and so is not tyrannical
On the offensive, trying to sound authentic
I’m getting tired of these old nonverbal diatribes
Untried ideological theories from war times
Self-proclaimed superheroes asking for more time
Descending heavily on dissenters
I find it interesting. You insist on destruction
But cry foul over the consequential sanctions
Questions leading to more questions
Your overarching approach is nonsensical
You're overreaching, overreacting
Flashing knives and talking peace treaties
I choose reason, so I'll be philosophical
Through and through until people know the truth
I'll show you who is master in this class
Through the looking glass, looking straight ahead
Hard forehead set against their hardcore hearts
Delicate apples of eyes rolling upon these surfaces
Don't forget light shines in the darkness
These are obviously obnoxious princes of madness
Gospel hardened bumpkins, hard of hearing
Pluck off their ear muffs and remove the earplugs
I don't know, it's the starkness
Of their skewed vision and aversion to reality
Posing, for whatever reason, as minimalists
And all of us losers attempting to look strong
Strolling roughshod on dog dump filled terrain
They say without travail there are no babies
So, I'm caught barefoot in this hell of a place
No name, upstart among folks with no faces
Clasping hands holding back nervous chuckles
Upon the sight of my adversaries' bleeding knuckles
Section such and such paragraph this and that
Yeah, voiceless man quoting verses
Telling the man with the pitchfork to get lost
An owl sat on our tree outside, and Dragon was completely mesmerized.
So Dragon ask what was his name, and Who was all that he devised.
Dragon said YOU, you silly bird; it’s YOUR name, which I want to know.
And again he got the answer… It was Who… Now, wouldn’t you know?
Now Dragon’s not a patient sort, so said… WHAT do you think of that!
Humpf!… If he won’t tell me his name, then I think I’ll call him Kersplat!
Who, said the owl again! Now, Dragon had began to become steamed.
Silly ninny! I named you the perfect name, ‘Kerslpat’, and he beamed!
Now, here Dragon realized that perhaps he needed to be, a bit more nice.
His words seemed limited, perhaps it wasn’t meant, as a mean device.
Now a crow came to the branch, and sat by the owl with a decisive bow.
The crow spouted, What? And Dragon ask: Are you here to help me Now?
What! came the answer from the crow, as the owl added another WHO.
Honestly, said Dragon! All I wanted, was to know your names, it’s true!
The crow’s hard of hearing, thought Dragon, as he suddenly realized…
Not everyone’s as fortunate as he, so he shouted loudly, as he theorized…
What’s YOUR name, he shouted! I’m tired of getting, NO good reply.
So he would call the crow What, and the crow squawked What! Oh my!.
Then little Whip Poor Will came and sat beside them, very, close and such.
When asked, he said Whip poor Will, so Dragon thanked him, very much!
Your name is Poor Will, but I won’t whip you, you deserve a gentle touch.
A Mocking Bird stopped by and Dragon introduced all his friends, as such.
The owl’s ‘Kersplat’, ‘What’ can’t hear, and ‘Poor Will’ are all my friends.
What’s your name little bird? For I’m Dragon, and you, I would befriend.
At that moment, I left the house saying Hello to Dragon and all those about.
The Mocking Bird sang: Dragon’s to Whip Poor Will, Mocks What can’t hear,
And wants to Kersplat Who! Blurting it out!
I dislike violence, so I sent Dragon to a timeout, in quick response, no doubt!
And I heard Dragon mutter, as he walked away, I now know what the term…
Bird Brain is all about!
You,*
Hard-of-hearing,
Dweller of darkness,
Mother of all evils:
Ignorance!
You, who are unable
To hear the truth,
Even though it is spoken
Through the mouth of
Thunder,
But who easily discern
The fainting whispers
Of monstrous lies!
Why don’t you open, for once,
Your detrimental prison
Of calamitous darkness,
And allow luminous knowledge
To establish its dominion of peace
For the sake of suffering humanity?
© Demetrios Trifiatis
05 November 2015
* FROM MY RECENTLY PUBLISHED BOOK: This poem is one of many poems that are included in my poetry book on peace entitled “ An Aegean Breeze of Peace”
that was recently published by “innerchildpress” and is available at Innerchildpress.com, Amazon.com, Amazon.co.uk,
Amazon.fr, Amazon.de, and Amazon.co.jp It is a book that I, Demetrios Trifiatis and co-author, hulya n. Yilmaz, a Liberal Arts Professor at The Pennsylvania State University, has written. Dr. Yilmaz, a wonderful lady whom I consider as my sister, was born in Turkey. As you may know, Turkey and Greece have been at war, on and off, for more than a thousand years. I, for those who do not know me, have got a Ph. D in philosophy, has studied in Canada, and was born in Greece. Dr. Yilmaz and I thought to join forces to write this book in order to let our countrymen and the world know that war is not the answer but peace is! Thank you all peace-loving people for your attention.
Working in a bookstore my eyes gaze out on a million words that captivate and endear…but nothing quite compares with one word I often hear.
Yes I hear the word Mom many times from the counter on which I’m leaning…and every time I hear it…it seem to have a different meaning…
I hear the word Mom over and over each and every day and I find myself marveling how it can be said in so many different ways.
“Mommy, they have a Christmas tree! There’s an elf on the shelf, Mommy…look!”
“Mommy can you buy me this pack of crayons…Mommy I just have to have this book!”
“No you can’t buy that book it has too many words you will not understand. Come on… we’re going to the Children’s section…hold on to mommy’s hand.”
A phone rings: “Hi Mom. Yes I’m in the bookstore. I’ll come see you when I’m through. Yes Mom, okay Mom, Yes Mom, Yes Mom, yes Mom…Yes Mom…I love you too.”
“Mom you look a little tired”. Her daughter pats her on the back and smiles.
“I’m going to find us both a book. Why don’t you sit here for a while.”
“MOM HE ASKED YOU IF YOU WANT A RECEIPT! The daughter yells but it’s a yell I find endearing as she looks at me she smiles and says. “My mom’s a little hard of hearing.”
A mom comes in with her little daughter in tow…her daughter’s crying, “She’s lost her favorite Teddy Bear.
“She’s not sure when she lost it.” Her Mom said, “we’ve been looking everywhere.”
“She remembers looking at a book in your bookstore, she thinks her Teddy might be behind it”
“Thank you Mommy.” The little girl says as we search the store…and find it!”
A woman picks a book off the shelf and as she does she wipes away a tear
“Mom would have loved this book she whispers to herself…I sure wish she was here.”
What a wonderful little word is MOM…
for no matter how we convey it...
It’s meaning changes completely
simply…
by the way we happen to say it.
No rocket surgeon,
nor brain scientist called upon
but only Rudolf the red nose reindeer
solicited as psychological mentor
yes...undoubtedly countless
decades removed since *****
(not very gay at all!)
bodily changing phenomena
from thine angst riddled
biological metamorphosis allows me to peer
with greater theft of mine precious youth stolen,
via piercing overbear
ring mailer daemons,
when mine tender age did near
cusp whence onset of puberty
clapped development tight as if by
a doppelganger mutineer
warp and weft of mine lifetime tapestry
mine acute perception doth lear
as threads got tightly woven
into mine casual knitwear
though pubescent phase
wrought with oppressive foresight
interwoven with jeer
ring bullying hmm...maybe thine ability
to distill self actualization
extant among interlinear
teenage stage viewable
during my youthful days, but clouded over asper
mine more vivid perspective here
from this present moment
ha...amusing insight from present perch
devoid of adolescent glare
sire re: brill grade
do lobes gleam freer,
now with insight aye ear
rate at such pitch 'ere
perfect hindsight aye declare,
yet as a much younger self
when I hapt to be a boy, acuity seemed oblivious
to perceive via sight and sound
what social cues visceral, (visual,
and audiological) seems crystal clear
revisiting non verbal
awkward teenage mutant
ninja turtle memories, that now deafeningly blare
at the threshold of ear
splitting decibels, how hard of hearing human
(nada so) subtle in retrospect, I am aware
interpersonal nuances clear as the tune
Doris Day Que será, será
did voice, a catchy air.
If, like me, you’ve been retired
for some time now, and your mailbox,
like mine, has become the repository
of all sorts of health advertisements –
vitamins, medicines, ointments, organic foods –
all of course urgent offers, even
discount checks, as incentives to purchases
all guaranteed (or your money back if still alive)
to slow down the aging process and renew
your vigor and if you’re male awaken
and enhance your sexual prowess
to what it used to be – if you can still
remember that far back – to when you
were on the summit of the “bloom of youth”
or as close to a Hell you didn’t believe in.
In my case, and for several years now,
I’ve been receiving almost monthly offers
for various hearing aids, accompanied
with generous checks as downpayment, besides.
A particular brand touted better than
all others and far more expensive,
and based on latest technological
breakthroughs and advances, etcetera, etcetera.
In short, a bargain even at the high price.
My hard-of-hearing mother fell for the carrot,
so-to-speak, and purchased a four thousand
dollar “top of the line” aid.
Was it an improvement? Yes, she shouted,
for background noises only! Tired of our shouting
matches and her chronic complaints – and expletives –
I decided to call the promotional company.
Apologies were profuse, but no fault
of the product. Rather my mother’s –
her age, for one, her advanced hearing loss,
for another. And as a consequence, with
weak apologies, no hope for a refund.
Frustrated, I made a final appeal that
no more advertisements be sent to her
and would they kindly remove her name
from their mailing list, to which they agreed,
and to which I responded: Sir, that’s the best
news I’ll ever have to shout at her.
Mere Minutes Into May Sixth, 2019
Heron entombed within b44 man cave
at Highland Manor Apartments sitting
in catbird seat after shower and shave
attuned to silence permeating airwave
wondering what comprises silence music
to these keenly attuned ears as agave
tastes sweet on tongue curious just now
if those hard of hearing or deaf crave
distinct absence, albeit low toned hum,
sans various appliances buzzing this knave,
who relishes solitude and absolute quiet
though this facility, most appeal aye rave
constitutes very minimal cost courtesy
rental assistance, which provides us to save,
(that plural includes missus) feels a slave
hidebound to maintain tidiness, lest we
find ourselves homeless prospect I stave
off (just barely), analogous keeping wild
animal at bay, though grim prospect suave,
and debonair "FAKE" facade I don trumpet
merely self employed to distract grim fate,
which loomed large months few months gone
necessitated third automotive, repair spate
chilly linkedin (racking ma pinion), asper our
2009 Hyundai Sonata (sedan) original parts
(battery included) amazingly last years behave
ving admirably despite slew of upkeep sending
checking account into intensive care, a grave
situation kickstarting precarious mental health
(amazing how being penniless - dirt poor) brave
driver cannot withstand blistering maintenance
costs sustaining car, more money versus engrave
van tombstone, and more painful experiencing
a negative checking account balance, thus fave
veering disliking existential hardship, where entrenched
panic attacks (despite pharmaceutical magic) death gave
enticing option, cuz quotidian struggle undermines
affinity to enjoy life, liberty, blah blah to thrave.
Abuelito
The name that rang like bells throughout my home
Like the song of cumbia and regeton that your body will dance to
As you would call out “mija, ven aqui”
And you would take my hands and elope me in a never ending dance
Abuelito taught me of my beginnings, that my familia was large and vast like the ocean
And that I could hear the sounds of my ancestors in the wind
Which was nearly impossible because he was hard of hearing at the slightest mention of taking his medication
But he believed that one day, I could hear him in the wind too
Abuelito would be the one to tell me stories of his says in the Marina
And whenever I told a bad joke, he would laugh as out series of letter K’s
Kkkkkkkk
Abuelito stands for strength, courage, and faith for when I did not have any
For when the news of your cancer came in, the tears rolling down my face where needles against your heart
Abuelito, you told me “Cancer does not mean death, it means a different way of living”
Abuelito, you could not dance our own dance anymore or laugh full of life anymore
I never wished for you to life different, I wanted you to live like my abuelito
It is not fair that cancer took your lungs, then your heart, and reached to the end of your limbs
It is not fair that your last breathe had to be taken from a ventilator
It is not fair that the wind did not pass through on the day of your funeral
It is not fair that I now get to live without you
I visit you everyday and it seems we have not grown apart
For you, cancer did not mean death, it meant showing death that you could still live
And I swear, when I stand still and quiet, I can hear you calling me in the wind