Long Stone deaf Poems
Long Stone deaf Poems. Below are the most popular long Stone deaf by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Stone deaf poems by poem length and keyword.
complete silence as the orchestra had finished the symphony
and final applause and salutes had brought down the curtain
but the director still staged tunes in the theatre of her mind
the cembalo envied the drums and the heartbeat got faster
as she mastered the triangle and trumpeted a simple refrain
sadly she had become stone deaf but was able to hallucinate
‘my truth my perception distorted reality but vigor nevertheless’
she had not left the stage when her cognition was at its best
now rather demented she managed to see clearly the trap door
bestowed by old age and the dubious benefits of longevity
lucidity had become feeble and fading enlightenment a curse
a purveyor of unwanted surrender and distractor from death
yet when her drapes drew closer she tore off her masked Self
sang revolutions pulled the trigger and went out with a bang
6th August 2020
A thousand birds in the green could be soon gone,
if man does not stop cutting down their tree nests;
the streams and lakes ruined the fish woebegone.
To developers the animals are pests,
what can we do about the ocean debris;
the government is stone deaf to our protests.
Oh, sweet mother earth we hear your gentle plea,
the abuse and ignorance of man is wrong;
it hurts all the green, the ocean and the sea.
How sad it will be when there is no birdsong,
the world silent- will any creature survive;
if we do not stop it will not be too long.
Bees will be gone soon - not a single beehive.
oh, sweet mother earth how can we help you thrive.
_______________________
February 14, 2021
Poetry/Terza Rima/Mother Earth is Weeping
Copyright Protected, ID 02-1329-525-14
All Rights Reserved, 2021, Constance La France
Written for the Standard contest, While Mother Earth Gently Moans
sponsor D.W. Rogers, Judged 03/18/2021
Imprisoned in the four walls of Rejection’s cell
The world stone deaf to the screams coming from this hell
I throw myself at the padded walls, frenzied…appalled
Self-loathing spews into my mouth leaving me galled
You see the face, read the words, but don’t understand
Rejection is pounding me down with iron hand
He shouts obscenities, strips the robe of esteem
Hand connects with my face, knocking clear every dream
He forces me down, and I lay splayed on the floor
Kicked by the memories of all he’s done before
Blooded and bruised, I pray for the end to be swift
In and out of consciousness…my deranged thoughts drift
The straight jacket of pain, he tightens every day
Oxygen deprived, each lucid thought goes astray
Too despicably weak to break free, try to fight
Done with gruesome work, Rejection turns out the light
Tortured about the motive for his perverse glee
My need for affection makes a prey out of me
Rejection has raped me and left blood on the floor
Nearing death, I pray, he’ll lose the key to my door
Eileen Manassian Ghai
Cat three-tooth, cat stone-deaf, cat sidewinder walk,
Old Bealman stalked the croaking, the croaking,
with forepaws meek stroking
airs of a summer cool night.
Bealman, Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Bealman—frog fisher & free.
Delphinium, the roses, lupine interposes
a shadow of fortressed green leaf
disguises the notion my Bealman supposes—
to seize, dismember it through,
make self-concocted, dishering frog stew.
Bealman, Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Bealman—frog fisher & free.
Night hours accounting, morning’s surmounting,
a bird warning Bealman, his patience to thin.
Croaking still blending, a flower stalk was bending,
two legs, peaking out, sent Bealman straight in.
Bealman, Oh my Bealman, Meow & Sealman,
Pacing, still racing, one two three man.
Frog fisher & free.
I saw Bealman beaming; I saw Bealman beaming.
How cats manage beaming I’ll wonder again.
Since Bealman was twenty, any beaming is plenty.
I loved my old Bealman, my frog fisher friend.
Bealman, Bealman, my meow dear Sealman,
Frog fisher & free.
Three misfits sought mischief along serenity shore
when a boatman slashed through the bluing mist
with driftwood oars honed by a river called Styx.
They were wild and naive and looked quite aghast
for boatmen usually gather the worn and the weak
but the misfits were young and strong as teak trees.
The boatman anchored a skull and clawed up the bank
three clocks ridden by ravens appeared in the sky
the misfits ran amok when their time finally arrived.
The boatman sat in a dark crag and fingered them near
the mischievous three pleaded in gossamer tongues
but death is beyond stone deaf and heard not a one.
The boatman did show his heart, but of Sulphur it smelled
gently placing each misfit in a boat made of flesh and bone
vultures hopped the damned in their new dead water home.
I have become a moaner,
Huffing, puffing, growling, groaner
I find it hard to bend and stretch
My dog is too old to 'Go fetch'
'You fetch yourself.' my old pooch said.
As he snuggled up in his doggy bed.
I totter outside to get the paper,
That's lying on the lawn
It's poured with rain, the newspaper is wet,
Dirty, tattered and torn,
It was beyond redemption
Too far gone to read
Another bone of contention
Just what I need.
I can hear the telephone ringing,
From inside the house
My ears are stinging
Where is my spouse?
I try my best to hurry,
To answer the phone
If someone doesn't answer it,
They will think we are not home.
It is no use calling my husband,
Because he is stone deaf.
Not only is he deaf, he is losing his mind,
If truth be told, we are two of a kind.
I must try not to grumble, mutter and complain,
I must get more positive if I want to stay in the game.
Life is what you make it. I understand why that is so,
To look on the bright side is the best way to go.
I have reached the ripe old age of 85,
Why am I on Earth, still alive
When most of my friends are dead
Or laying Ga Ga in aged care beds.
Why was this Old Duck,
Given the luck,
To survive
When others died.
I am sure I don't know,
When God has plans,
For me to go.
What use has God for me?
I have brought up my family,
I have my eyes open wide.
My curiosity, I cannot hide,
Perhaps that is the reason,
I am still alive.
I cannot lie
I am in no hurry to die.
I need to be of use, you see.
And I am not the girl I used to be.
I feel so tired and slow.
I have lost my get-up and go.
Nothing works anymore,
My body has gone on strike,
That's for sure.
I have a list of ailments
That would kill a horse,
I've had a hip replacement
And new eye lenses, of course.
I am losing height,
Because I have curvature of the spine.
Lots of other diseases.
That will worsen with time.
I am not miserable
Or sad in any way,
It is a question
I have been asking God today
Have you use for me, Lord,
Is that why I'm still here
If you have, could you make it clear
God, could you please speak up,
I am stone deaf in both ears.