Monday, June 28, 2010

Off-Tune: A Poem

(Credit for the title goes to Rafi, Shantay, and Melissa. Thank you!)

Right now.

A deaf woman doesn’t hear the sound,

While everyone screams so loud,

Tears and shouts,

As the bomb exploded,

Yet, she still heard the same.

While the corpses piled,

The ash sprayed,

The building collapsed,

Yet, she still heard the same.

The blood splattered on the walls,

She didn’t hear any of the calls,

The sirens waned,

Yet, she still heard the same.

Children cried,

Grasping teddy bears tight,

Glass shattered on the floors,

People opening the emergency doors,

They looked at her in shame,

Yet, she still heard the same.

She saw what had happened,

But did not hear the cries,

She thought she was in a dream,

But she never felt so alive,

When the blast came,

And people began to fly,

She continued walking,

To save her own life.

She passed through the clawing hands,

The dead,

The women and men,

The cries, the sighs, and the rest,

Not thinking about saving them.

She could not hear,

For she was deaf,

But did that excuse her?

Did that make her immune?

So soon,

In the blink of an eye,

Or a toss of a dime,

The bomb exploded,

On a subway train,

Yet, she still heard the same.

She was actually glad she survived,

She did not regret saving anyone’s life,

She was happy just to be alive,

She was glad that the bomb ruptured the drums in people’s ears,

For now, she was not alone,

She wasn’t the only one who could not hear.

They deserved it,

For ignoring her all these years.

She smiled and walked away,

With a silly smirk on her face,

She was the one,

And yet they did not know,

She stepped on the same ground,

She smelled the same smells,

Yet she did not hear the same sounds.

All she heard was nothing but the same,

They did not know what she became,

A hidden monster among sheep,

Another leaf in a tree,

She was like them,

But also not,

For she was the criminal,

That they all sought.

“Goodbye and feel my pain,”

She said as she stepped out of the subway,

Still hearing the same,

The void that filled her ears,

Never was so clear,

In her mind,

She knew she brought fear,

To the rest of the world, to all of humankind.

She dropped the bomb,

Not caring for the daughters or the sons,

She did not care for the sounds,

For she never heard them at all,

She only heard the same,

For the rest of her days.

Right now.

A girl smiles,

Walks out and never goes to trial,

She walks on for miles and miles,

Running and not hearing anything but the same,

They did not know what she became,

But she did.

A monster in sight,

A monster brought to the light,

When she couldn’t handle the calls with no voice,

That haunted her eyes,

Until she finally realized,

She picked up the hotel room’s phone,

And began to dial,


Then, she cried not like a monster, but like a child,

Until they took her away,

They shouted her name,

But she didn’t hear anything but the same.

The same, that beautiful nothingness,

Which was pure bliss,

For she couldn’t even hear her own cries,

But she felt the tears in her eyes,

That caressed her cheek,

She continued to weep,

“Why am I still alive?”

She didn’t hear the answer,

And only the same.

What's the worst atrocity you've ever seen, dear reader?


Jayne said...

That is a very good, thought-provoking poem there. I like poetry to stop me in my tracks and make me think - thank you.

Vatche said...

Hey, Jayne, thank you so much! I'm trying my best at poetry at the moment, I'm glad I stopped you in your tracks and made you think. :D

Write on and think on!

Cruella Collett said...

That was an interesting twist at the end. I really liked the imagery, and the repetitive "she still heard the same".

Like you would say, write on :)

The Words Crafter said...

Wow! That didn't end up where I thought it would, twice! I loved that I had pictures in my head the whole time I was reading. I loved that you kept me guessing till the end, and then again at the real end! It challenged me-I judged her in my mind for being uncaring, and I berated myself. Then, she's the one! Again, at the end, you challenge me because-where do you draw the line? Is she evil? Is she evil because she's deaf? Is she insane? Does that excuse her actions? I'm going to be thinking about this for a while...fantastic job!!!

Vatche said...

Hey, Cruella! I try putting all sorts of twists and turns in my stories, but even that one came to me as a surprise. My hands just kept typing away and I really had no control over it, then I see this end product. I do mostly poetry that's raw and unedited.

I'm glad you enjoyed the imagery; I feel as though it is a writer's job to paint the scene with words rather than a paintbrush in the reader's mind.

As for the "Yet, she still heard the same." I thought it was a nice chorus line in the poem, so I continued to repeat it, reminding the reader that the woman couldn't hear.

Lastly, write on! (It's sort of become my catchphrase, I guess.)

Vatche said...

Hey, The Words Crafter! I'm glad I put those twists in for you and made you question the character's thoughts and motives.

I'm also happy that my story will be keeping you thinking about all those questions! I really just tried my best, because I'm still new at poetry. I guess, I'm doing a good job at keeping a gradual pace of progress.

Write on and think on!

Carolyn V. said...

Wow, that's amazing. Great job! =)

Vatche said...

Hey, thank you, Carolyn! Your words and all the others so far only make me want to write more.

I'm glad you enjoyed it. =)

Write on!

Lydia Kang said...

That was a great poem. I liked the repetitive last line, it was rhythmic and made me thing of the pulsations that deaf people sense with sound.

Vatche said...

I'm glad you enjoyed it, Lydia! :D

I just started repeating that last line when it ended up being the same line at the end of the first and second stanzas, so I continued with it for the rest of the poem.

Thank you for your kind words and write on!

Anonymous said...

You have quite a gift for poetry, Vatche!

The worst atrocity I've ever seen live was on the news: the 9-11 attacks.

Vatche said...

Wow, Amanda, thanks for the kind words. I actually thought I sucked at poetry. I guess practice makes perfect, huh?

I agree one of the worst atrocities that I've ever seen were the 9-11 attacks. It was terrible.

Write on and thanks again!

Ange said...

Wow! Needed a strong coffee this morning after that masterpiece. And it's true what the wise ones say - we create our own hell. Love the egg shot in your other post Vatche. It seems you need to move to an area where the people are 'wiser.'
Your writing is life itself. It's a great place to express your demons so they don't possess you.
PS the first kiss post made me blush. Haven't felt 17 in ages!!

Vatche said...

Hey, Agne, glad to see that you dropped by! :)

As for reading some of my most recent pieces, I cannot thank you enough. I'm glad that you enjoyed the poem here.

As for the egg shot in my other post, I thought it reflected my thoughts and mood quite nicely. Some of the people in DeviantArt are great with a camera and I give them props for that.

I'm glad you were reminded of being seventeen again. I try to relate to my reader's as much as I can.

Lastly, yes writing is a great way of expressing those demons that try to possess me. Just releasing them out and onto the page lifts a large burden on my shoulders. (...and entertainment for others.)

Write on and thank you so much for your awesome thoughts!

Imola said...

A Piece of a poem might say more than I can at this very moment...

Paul Durcan
In Memory of Those Murdered in the Dublin Massacre, May 1974 317
‘And I think of those heroes - heroes? - and how truly
Obsolete is war [...]
She’d make a mighty fine explosion now, if you were to blow her up;
An explosion of petals, of aeons, and the waitresses too, flying breasts and limbs,
For a Free Ireland.’

Imola said...

PS The poem is nicely written, yet I have one question: how could she speak...since she was deaf? As far as I know, this hints at the fact that once she DID hear...medically speaking, one cannot reproduce sounds (therefore speech)without ever having had the experience of sound...Which gives the poem even greater depth!


Mory said...

This poem is very evocative. i like your unique style of poetry. I too wrote something like this month ago ( I have seen all and none) on my blog.

Keep on the good work vatche.

Anonymous said...

Interesting, and picturesque. Lyrical in a way, I guess due to the repetition throughout. Even though one lived in bitter isolation and sought to attain commonality through pain, the imagery could not escape as well as the visual expression of devastation due to one's action. Consequences have a way of haunting.

Thanks for stopping by and always Write On!!! :D

Vatche said...

Thank you, Imola, for your input from another poem that was similar to my own. I haven't read it, but I'll definitely try to find that poem on Google and read all of it! :D

As far as the woman in the story that is deaf, yes, she wasn't always deaf. Maybe I might write a story about her in prose to add more depth to her background.

Write on and cheers, Imola!

Vatche said...

Hey, Mory! I'm glad you thought the poem was "evocative", because that's what I try with all my capture the reader's mind and make it my own. Painting pictures in people's minds is always fun. :)

I'll definitely check out your blog more and see if I can find that poem that is similar to this one.

Write on and keep up the good work, too!

Vatche said...

Hello, Owning the Words! I'm glad that you thought that it was interesting, because that's what a writer wants all his/her pieces to be, along with being picturesque.

Consequences do have a way of haunting people and she was definitely haunted by the images of the terror and horror that she had caused.

I loved how you put it also, because I couldn't have said it better myself. "Even though one lived in bitter isolation and sought to attain commonality through pain, the imagery could not escape as well as the visual expression of devastation due to one's action." That hits the bullseye for what this piece is about.

Thanks for also stopping by and as always write on!

Aleeza said...

Wow. Wow, I honestly adored this. The image-provoking prose was beautifully done. Everything was so vivid!

Vatche said...

Hey, Aleeza, thanks for following my blog! I'm glad you enjoyed it, I'm really trying hard to work on my poetry.

As for the imagery, I believe it's the author's job to paint pictures in the reader's mind that's why I make my pieces as vivid as possible.

Write on and rock on!

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