Those Blinding Nights

No one told me, you see.
Silent gestures was the tragedy.

I woke to find promise under my bedroom floor, but remorse still lingered in the corridor, and hatred would still be present in the misty cold air of this winters morning.
I looked out my window, blank, clean, and empty. The world was White.
New thoughts came to mind, and I had no idea how kind.
I creped through the kitchen and avoided the creaky floorboard, hugging his jumper. I opened the back door to welcome the cool breeze, I was hoping this would enable me to see, another perspective of my tragedy.

Because no one told me you see.
Silent gestures always haunted me.

0, 4, 2, 0, 6 the numbers never made sense when I was under, but the dream would never go away.
I was in the middle of the road, with a clock tied to a tree, it pondered over me and kept striking the sound of midnight.
A bird would take flight, and a car overhead
came closer and appeared bigger, blinding my eyes by the 7th second, but by the 8th I'd have woken up.
My sister peering down shaking for me to wake. She signed and I understood, I didn't reply with my hands as I normally would, I spoke for the first time. Not able to hear myself, or what her moving mouth would be shouting to my mother downstairs, she was happy and surprised. And I waited slowly, for my mother to arrive. Gesturing as she came, saying things I can't explain. For my whole life has been filled with silence, I'm deaf. I've seen things others wouldn't and taken advantage of the things they would.

For all this time, no one had told me...
that I wouldn't be like one of them, that I'd learn different things and see different things, that I'd live in different circumstances and change in different ways.
But that was the beauty of it, for I had no idea.

Author's Note

Open for interpretation... hope you enjoyied it.

Reviews

[Pencrafter]

Your poem reads like a short story. There are vivid images and emotional moments. You have good character development--it should be a short story! I might suggest you spend some time on proofreading to catch spelling errors and perhaps word choices. This would make your writing even better. You have good imagination and writing style. Keep writing!

[Leonard Kennard]

Hi Siena. Your short story brought a few tears to my eyes which is rare for this elderly man. I believe it take courage of a high order for someone such as yourself to take life by the scruff of its neck and produce beautiful prose for the rest of us to enjoy. Not simply to enjoy but to make the reader reflect on the difficulties faced by so many working in this field. Do keep on writing and good luck in your journalistic pursuits. Leonardk

[r. f. jordan]

there is illustrious wisdom and imagery woven throughout this work. i make typos in posts all the time, so i'd take a second look at the end of the first stanza. i especially like the idea of being "pondered over". great creativity.

[Wild Willow Blue]

Very beautiful. I loved the imagery; I got a sense of love, as well as pain, from this. You might want to fix the spelling of 'tragedy' though. The perfect amount of dark and light, joy and sadness, togetherness and aloneness. Perfect.

[L. Edward Neale]

Wow, I like it a lot. This is beautiful haunting prose. It would be awesome to see more of this. I find this addictively readable. Prosaic, but flows oh so sweetly. Not always an easy thing to achieve. Great stuff!

[Elaenor Aisling]

I like this a lot, simple but lovely. Nice work.

[Robert The Frank]

To me it seemed almost a story then a poem...but i liked it really amazing

[Pax]

wonderful flow of words. keep it up my friend.

[marytownsend]

Beautiful and sad, there's a mystery in the words that leaves you wanting more! I love your imagery! Amazing writing!!

[BMColey]

beautiful poem from a beautiful girl. your deep for a young girl. keep it up!

[Chip]

Yet another tremendous poem from you! If you are deaf I'm sorry to hear that. I only have one criticism and that's that it seems too much like a story - you can tell it's a poem but it is too much like a story to me.