Sound - I was profoundly deaf for 12 years. I wrote this poem to thank the people who made the tremendous effort to communicate with me during that time.
Waiting - Smash through writer's block with a poem.
hen I was a ghost
imploding in silence
My mind fed on regurgitations of life
Brimmed over with old stuff to share
Like a fountain in a park
Where the people use their pennies for the bus
When I was asleep
I thought I was awake
Until I really did wake up
And realized I'd been asleep
You really don't know
What your words have meant to me
When I was a ghost
A solid word anchored me in reality
When I was asleep
An eye to eye encounter
Rocked me in comfo
There's a poem in me somewhere
There's got to be
How could I ride a cresting wave
And exhaust my ability to express
I am waiting for the sneeze
Nose poised in tittilation
Its coming is a tease
I am waiting for the image
The sound of this pain
The sight of this love
The smell of last night
The taste of tomorrow
The touch of your lips on mine
I am waiting for the poem
That will tell me I am alive
Whatever else I may think
I am alive
