He was deaf to her entreaties. All she wanted was to be heard. Not just heard in the sense that he would listen to words, but heard in the sense that he would really “get” them, and have a feeling for what she was trying to tell him. Even after all these years, he seemed to never hear her — just nod his head, as if that was enough. One day, someone else would look into her eyes and know her — then she would be gone. The word he might understand then — goodbye.
In the cold in the night there she was walking. I can see her in my mind being angered at what just happened. I felt a feeling of guilt and I began to worry because it was snowing and as she left on the final not of the fight she slammed the door. I did not go after her and she needs me right now I can feel it. She is out there nedding someone to sav her and I want it to be me because thats what I need to do for her for the rest of my life.
Fallen on deaf ears, a lonely spiders seethes in solitude safe in his web. He watches down at the fumbling folks below with seashells in their ears and laughs. They can’t hear him, but he has to listen to their screams at the sight of him.
if i couldn’t hear music
i wouldn’t know joy
from inside my eardrum
to the depths of my soul
the sound of a guitar
strum dirtily
turns me on in my gut
and brings me to sing
sounds of symphony
chords of glory
riffs of rough boys
beat of my nights
feed my earlobes
keep me smiling
how i wish i was sometimes. deaf to the insults, deaf to the heartless criticisms of others, deaf to the problems that i don’t understand or don’t know how to solve. deaf to the world that is too much to handle sometimes.
Can you hear them? At first they silently think, then they whisper to each other, slowly the whispers grown louder and become full fledged voices, giving you their opinions. They see what you don’t. You’re deaf to their plees, don’t you see? They ask, he isn’t good for you, they chide.
I thought she was dumb at first, the way her eyes were all glazed over when I asked her if she knew whose dead dog that was out in the middle of the street. But then I realized she hadn’t even heard the sound of its body hitting the pavement, and couldn’t hear me screaming at her anymore than she’d heard the accident. She was halfway across the avenue when she finally noticed that the poor thing was dead and she was about to be hit by a speeding milkman.
I thought she was dumb at first, the way her eyes were all glazed over when I asked her if she knew whose dead dog that was out in the middle of the street. But then I realized she hadn’t even heard the sound of its body hitting the pavement, and was halfway across the avenue when it struck her that he was dead and she was about to be hit by a speeding milkman.
I felt like I was deaf to the truth, blind is a better word, but I guess I refused to listen to what he said or what people told me about him. I thought if I didn’t hear than nothing would change, we wouldn’t change. Regardless of whether or not I heard, we did anyway.
Sometimes, it’s difficult to live life. Some people are completely oblivious to what’s going on all around them, and that’s how they manage to go on day after day without a care in the world. They’re deaf to all the world’s cries for help.
Some days are lived this way: “If no one calls and I don’t speak all day, do I disappear?” Turn of the phone and be silent, feels like I’ve lost one of these five. To be deaf might be a kind buffer against the harsh world.
The apology fell upon deaf ears. No matter how many times she tried to say it, in a whisper, in a scream or somewhere in the middle, he never understood it. Rather, he didn’t want to understand what it meant to be sorry, to have someone ask for forgiveness. But still she tried desperately for him to listen to her. But instead he decided that is grudge was more appealing and let her apology fall to the floor.
Deaf. It is as though I am deaf. They are speaking and I am not hearing. But I am crying, because he is smiling and laughing and trying to make it seem like this is okay. I want to hear him, hear what he is saying, but I can’t. I am so in love with him that it is not even funny. I love him so much and I’m so sorry for the trouble I’ve gotten him in. I don’t ever want to see his smile go away, to see his soundless laugh fade. But I’m fading, I’m waking up, I’m heartbroken.
As oxymoronic as it seems, the silence truly is deafening as we all hold our breath, waiting for his answer. Time seems to move in slow motion. Finally, he turns to us. I can tell before he says anything what he’s going to say.
“He’s dead,” he finally says, confirming my fears.
I was deaf to all of the suggestions being screamed at me. I knew what I had to do, I didn’t care what anyone thought. I had to win this, otherwise everyone would die. They didn’t know that, only I did. I had to win.
Whenever I am faced with any confrontation, I roll it off my shoulders and avoid it like the devil. I am so afraid to face the truth that I turn the other way. I shove everything that may be bothering me into the smallest corner of my brain till I feel like it no longer exists. But…..with the more troubles I do that with, the smaller that little corner gets. Eventually, the corner is so filled up that it clusters other areas, till I can no longer shut the door. Everything he said to me was true. Everything. But, the only way I can survive, it to act like he was wrong; that he never knew me at all. What if he was right? I don’t want to hear it. Because, if he is right……how is there any hope for me at all?
your words fall on ears that have never been deaf they have heard all that you’ve told them and pray that you’ll say more they shiver at the pursing of your lips and they dance as you grace them with your words you will never find me upset or unwilling to listen to you i have loved every word you’ve said and will continue to until you can no longer create sound.
He could not stand her. He can’t believe it as he was now. The first time he met her he got all these warm, fuzzy feelings whenever his eyes laid a chain of locked love on her. But now she yelled, she talked, she whined, she complained… as if she was going out of her way to annoy him. He’d rather be deaf than to hear her yap all day about how he had changed and that nothing was the same as when they were younger, but it has only been four months…
I let my hands slide through the air, fingers and arms twisting as I seek to let everyone understand what I want to say, how I want them to feel, and yet so many people just brush me off. I am inferior in their minds because they refuse to see me.
Deaf huh.. Deaf should not only used to describe a person who cannot hear, but also to describe rather a person who refuses to listen. we are all in a way deaf.. we just have to relax and open up our ears.
The crash of the waves made him deaf to everything else. Salt sea filled his lungs, and he found himself staring up at a spot of light far away. To fight or not to fight, that was the question.
She could hear him, of course, but she pretended not to. His pleas weren’t enough to thaw the ice that had formed around her heart. She turned her body away from his and stood to leave.
She looked at him. Was he stupid? Why didn’t he respond. He just looked at her and grinned, pulled out a notebook and pen, and simply wrote: I can’t hear you. Her face turned red. She felt instantaneously horrible. Of course. He was deaf. That’s why he didn’t hear her when she told him to move. She now regretted running up behind him and rudely tapping him on the shoulder…well…it was more than a tap…
She couldn’t hear a thing. The glass was too thick but clear as if it wasn’t even in front of her. She saw him carrying on a conversation with the other man. On his lips she saw her name being said. She screamed and frantically banged on the glass in front of her but he might as well have been deaf. She couldn’t hear him and he couldn’t hear her.
Deaf
I wish I could be deaf to what the world tells me about who I can and can’t love
That everyone could mind their own damned business and let me get on with my own life
That I could choose what I want to do without having to hear censoring voices
Deaf I say, deaf
to be deaf is a great tragedy. but people like Hellen Keller can manage around this great, saddening obstacle. if you cannot hear, see, or sense something, live it. feel it. that is how you live life.
yes, he was. and he was fit-full (an understatement) and passionate and furious and transcended the simple term of ‘beauty.’ he epitomized the sometimes tragic irony of life and we will hear it forever more. he was gorgeous and ugly and divinely human and so his whisper resonates in the ear. the mind, the soul. and we are freed. beyond that existence. thanks to his genius. his talent. his ability. his gift. yes. ludwig van beethoven is a hero. now and for all eternity. and if there’s a heaven id love nothing more than to have the honor of devoting myself to he and his music in what would likely be a symphony composed nearly of all musical entities in existence. that is the meaning of profound. peace and contentedness and resolution. spiritual unity and the process of creation. and, against all odds!
…
Thick and heavy, like he was drowning in water and yet he was floating, light as air. Silence had a vice-like grip around his throat that left raw imprints and it was too deafening for his comfort.
He was deaf to her entreaties. All she wanted was to be heard. Not just heard in the sense that he would listen to words, but heard in the sense that he would really “get” them, and have a feeling for what she was trying to tell him. Even after all these years, he seemed to never hear her — just nod his head, as if that was enough. One day, someone else would look into her eyes and know her — then she would be gone. The word he might understand then — goodbye.
In the cold in the night there she was walking. I can see her in my mind being angered at what just happened. I felt a feeling of guilt and I began to worry because it was snowing and as she left on the final not of the fight she slammed the door. I did not go after her and she needs me right now I can feel it. She is out there nedding someone to sav her and I want it to be me because thats what I need to do for her for the rest of my life.
Fallen on deaf ears, a lonely spiders seethes in solitude safe in his web. He watches down at the fumbling folks below with seashells in their ears and laughs. They can’t hear him, but he has to listen to their screams at the sight of him.
if i couldn’t hear music
i wouldn’t know joy
from inside my eardrum
to the depths of my soul
the sound of a guitar
strum dirtily
turns me on in my gut
and brings me to sing
sounds of symphony
chords of glory
riffs of rough boys
beat of my nights
feed my earlobes
keep me smiling
© LL
how i wish i was sometimes. deaf to the insults, deaf to the heartless criticisms of others, deaf to the problems that i don’t understand or don’t know how to solve. deaf to the world that is too much to handle sometimes.
Can you hear them? At first they silently think, then they whisper to each other, slowly the whispers grown louder and become full fledged voices, giving you their opinions. They see what you don’t. You’re deaf to their plees, don’t you see? They ask, he isn’t good for you, they chide.
I thought she was dumb at first, the way her eyes were all glazed over when I asked her if she knew whose dead dog that was out in the middle of the street. But then I realized she hadn’t even heard the sound of its body hitting the pavement, and couldn’t hear me screaming at her anymore than she’d heard the accident. She was halfway across the avenue when she finally noticed that the poor thing was dead and she was about to be hit by a speeding milkman.
I thought she was dumb at first, the way her eyes were all glazed over when I asked her if she knew whose dead dog that was out in the middle of the street. But then I realized she hadn’t even heard the sound of its body hitting the pavement, and was halfway across the avenue when it struck her that he was dead and she was about to be hit by a speeding milkman.
I felt like I was deaf to the truth, blind is a better word, but I guess I refused to listen to what he said or what people told me about him. I thought if I didn’t hear than nothing would change, we wouldn’t change. Regardless of whether or not I heard, we did anyway.
Sometimes, it’s difficult to live life. Some people are completely oblivious to what’s going on all around them, and that’s how they manage to go on day after day without a care in the world. They’re deaf to all the world’s cries for help.
Some days are lived this way: “If no one calls and I don’t speak all day, do I disappear?” Turn of the phone and be silent, feels like I’ve lost one of these five. To be deaf might be a kind buffer against the harsh world.
The apology fell upon deaf ears. No matter how many times she tried to say it, in a whisper, in a scream or somewhere in the middle, he never understood it. Rather, he didn’t want to understand what it meant to be sorry, to have someone ask for forgiveness. But still she tried desperately for him to listen to her. But instead he decided that is grudge was more appealing and let her apology fall to the floor.
Deaf. It is as though I am deaf. They are speaking and I am not hearing. But I am crying, because he is smiling and laughing and trying to make it seem like this is okay. I want to hear him, hear what he is saying, but I can’t. I am so in love with him that it is not even funny. I love him so much and I’m so sorry for the trouble I’ve gotten him in. I don’t ever want to see his smile go away, to see his soundless laugh fade. But I’m fading, I’m waking up, I’m heartbroken.
As oxymoronic as it seems, the silence truly is deafening as we all hold our breath, waiting for his answer. Time seems to move in slow motion. Finally, he turns to us. I can tell before he says anything what he’s going to say.
“He’s dead,” he finally says, confirming my fears.
I was deaf to all of the suggestions being screamed at me. I knew what I had to do, I didn’t care what anyone thought. I had to win this, otherwise everyone would die. They didn’t know that, only I did. I had to win.
Whenever I am faced with any confrontation, I roll it off my shoulders and avoid it like the devil. I am so afraid to face the truth that I turn the other way. I shove everything that may be bothering me into the smallest corner of my brain till I feel like it no longer exists. But…..with the more troubles I do that with, the smaller that little corner gets. Eventually, the corner is so filled up that it clusters other areas, till I can no longer shut the door. Everything he said to me was true. Everything. But, the only way I can survive, it to act like he was wrong; that he never knew me at all. What if he was right? I don’t want to hear it. Because, if he is right……how is there any hope for me at all?
i am deaf to everyone’s advice but my own.
i should not be allowed to wallow in self pity when everything i do goes wrong.
I can speak, but I can’t hear.
I can love, but I don’t know if I am loved back.
I see you, but use your actions, they speak louder anyways…
your words fall on ears that have never been deaf they have heard all that you’ve told them and pray that you’ll say more they shiver at the pursing of your lips and they dance as you grace them with your words you will never find me upset or unwilling to listen to you i have loved every word you’ve said and will continue to until you can no longer create sound.
He could not stand her. He can’t believe it as he was now. The first time he met her he got all these warm, fuzzy feelings whenever his eyes laid a chain of locked love on her. But now she yelled, she talked, she whined, she complained… as if she was going out of her way to annoy him. He’d rather be deaf than to hear her yap all day about how he had changed and that nothing was the same as when they were younger, but it has only been four months…
the silence between us
became so deafening
i could no longer hear her
pathetic cries for attention
I let my hands slide through the air, fingers and arms twisting as I seek to let everyone understand what I want to say, how I want them to feel, and yet so many people just brush me off. I am inferior in their minds because they refuse to see me.
Deaf huh.. Deaf should not only used to describe a person who cannot hear, but also to describe rather a person who refuses to listen. we are all in a way deaf.. we just have to relax and open up our ears.
The crash of the waves made him deaf to everything else. Salt sea filled his lungs, and he found himself staring up at a spot of light far away. To fight or not to fight, that was the question.
I’m deaf sometimes, really. Well, not really.
“Mandy! Can you get me that bottle of wine?”
“What was that? Some pine?”
“No, some wine! The one over there!”
“WHAT, HIND? THE SON OVER WHERE?”
I act deaf until things are exploding in my ears.
She could hear him, of course, but she pretended not to. His pleas weren’t enough to thaw the ice that had formed around her heart. She turned her body away from his and stood to leave.
She looked at him. Was he stupid? Why didn’t he respond. He just looked at her and grinned, pulled out a notebook and pen, and simply wrote: I can’t hear you. Her face turned red. She felt instantaneously horrible. Of course. He was deaf. That’s why he didn’t hear her when she told him to move. She now regretted running up behind him and rudely tapping him on the shoulder…well…it was more than a tap…
Deepen your deafness by sweeping secrets under the rug.
it seems to be that saddest thing is to be deaf to one’s feeling toward the one they love or to have lost touch with what one knows to be true.
She couldn’t hear a thing. The glass was too thick but clear as if it wasn’t even in front of her. She saw him carrying on a conversation with the other man. On his lips she saw her name being said. She screamed and frantically banged on the glass in front of her but he might as well have been deaf. She couldn’t hear him and he couldn’t hear her.
Deaf
I wish I could be deaf to what the world tells me about who I can and can’t love
That everyone could mind their own damned business and let me get on with my own life
That I could choose what I want to do without having to hear censoring voices
Deaf I say, deaf
to be deaf is a great tragedy. but people like Hellen Keller can manage around this great, saddening obstacle. if you cannot hear, see, or sense something, live it. feel it. that is how you live life.
yes, he was. and he was fit-full (an understatement) and passionate and furious and transcended the simple term of ‘beauty.’ he epitomized the sometimes tragic irony of life and we will hear it forever more. he was gorgeous and ugly and divinely human and so his whisper resonates in the ear. the mind, the soul. and we are freed. beyond that existence. thanks to his genius. his talent. his ability. his gift. yes. ludwig van beethoven is a hero. now and for all eternity. and if there’s a heaven id love nothing more than to have the honor of devoting myself to he and his music in what would likely be a symphony composed nearly of all musical entities in existence. that is the meaning of profound. peace and contentedness and resolution. spiritual unity and the process of creation. and, against all odds!
…
Deaf. Soundless noiseless blank.
Trapped inside my head, screaming echo-less thoughts and mindless pleas.
Please.
Unlock
me.
Open.
Thick and heavy, like he was drowning in water and yet he was floating, light as air. Silence had a vice-like grip around his throat that left raw imprints and it was too deafening for his comfort.
unfortunate but sometimes iinevitable. the best you can do is just learn to deal.
It would be like living without experiencing…
Inability to hear
Here he is staning in front of me yet he cannot hear. He does not understand. He is deaf. But he can hear yetnot listen….