I am deaf,
The world I am in,
What the world,
The hearing world.
If you don’t understand what deafness is,
Then why am I only the one who must know
What the hearing is, the world belongs
You know what?
It belongs to the hearing world,
Why? Everything is heard and still heard.
My ears are friends with Silence,
And her members, such as Quiet,
Stillness, no one from the distraction,
Nor the ones who make the mind noise,
Just be a good person, and be nothing for a moment,
Because we all need to quieten ourselves,
And look what inside us, we have our universes,
Too many things to explore, too many to think about,
Too many things are only the thing I can think of,
But you might say, what? And the other might say,
You have so much on your plate, too many thoughts.
My mind is deaf, alone deafness, but don’t you think I am the same as every deaf person. No, not feel that way, please. Might you find me; I am very straightforward, but it is the way my mind is to my whole body? Then we will talk about what we know about our minds, our inner worlds, and ours. But if you think I am the same as every deaf person, should I allow myself to believe that every hearing person is the same?
We all are different,
You are hearing, I am deaf, but we are humans,
Freestyle, we have our unique skills,
Nobody is the same.
No one does,
But if it is, then the answer we all will know for sure,
Is that our mind sees the same picture, same destination,
Exact, same, and exact,
just one same.
But it’s not the point.
What point is
We all are different,
Humankind is one, but it decides to divide,
To say what identity you are, what race you are,
Etc, to say what Label wants to know.
Think of a picture. An ant has different kinds,
But they are still part of ants.
Like monkeys, apes, gorillas,
Etc., they are still part of the ape.
What is the point if I’m talking about our history?
My mind echoes.
And still, it happens a lot
But things can be strange,
Thee art ye that lo upon ye,
Thine self views all thy,
Thence we think hence,
Old English? Thou art interested,
Or not is up to thee,
‘Cause I go forward to pour out
And feel what pleases you
Beneath, let me be as it is,
In the same way, I will let you do the same.
If you get to know me better,
My subjects never stay the same,
One subject preaches for long or short,
Then another topic pops in,
Preaching for long or short,
New subjects pronouncing,
Bell, bell, and bell a ring,
The peaceful sound,
I do not know it,
But it knows me from the bottom of the heart,
It knew, and bell.
Riddle, sing, paradox, strange,
Such a word from another
Thee see a man,
He looks like a fat man,
But clean and tidy,
His feet are like an angel,
And his hands are like a baby,
But his body is the size of a dwarf.
That man, well, he accepts who he is.
Then another man appears.
He is the opposite;
He looks like a skeleton,
Dirty and untidy,
His feet are like a farmer’s,
And his hands are like a blacksmith’s.
That man, well, what doest thou think?
Well, well, it is how my mind dances,
But I’d like to be quiet sometimes.
Why? We can’t always make noise in our minds.
Do you like what I wrote? said my mind.
And I thought, What?
You followed me, copied me exactly.
I hope others will understand me; I am not the only one.
Well, we will see.
The sky is blue, but the blueness smiles at it. The red is yellow, but the yellow is also green.
Is it how you think? I have to believe it because you bring it in.
In such what?
The explosive words!
© Ismael Mansoor