And as you pray in your darkness
For wings to set you free
You are bound to your silent legacy

fiftysomething years ago
the dark legacy of a genetic curse
brought forth into the light
two sons…younger brothers striken
a father’s anguish turns inward
blinding him from seeing
the innocence of his firstborn daughter
she wished with all her little heart
to be daddy’s little girl
But she was met with silence…..

They will never understand
They wonder where did they go wrong
How could you be so selfish
Why can’t you get along

And then the sickness struck her
dim memories of hospital beds and IV’s
puzzled doctors scribbled
“unknown etiology” on chart
as she laid battling dehydration
the ravages of three days of high fever
treatment of choice uncertain
until visible evidence of infection surfaced
localized on her three year old throat
But her journey into silence had already begun….

Your body is alive
But no one told you what you’d feel
The empty aching hours

psycho babble at prestigious John Hopkins
battery of tests spits out an number
what does an IQ mean anyhow?
the conclusion, she was a manipulatior
jealous of the attention given her retarded brothers
“Don’t let her take the easy way out”
the experts advice taken as gospel oath
mother and father disbelieving her truth,
she really couldn’t hear
but her voice was met with silence…..

They don’t listen to your reasons
As original as sin
Deny all that you feel
And they will bring you home again

new kid on the block
a school for those who could not hear
culture shock for a precoccious 7 year old
wanting so badly to belong
in the same class as 10-12 year olds
they were jealous of the teacher’s pet
so they bullied, taunted, and oscratized
“kids will be kids” her parents dismissed her tears
planting the seeds of her own personal Columbine
but she chose the way of silence….

The natural progression
Is the coming of your age
But they cover it with shame
And turn it into rage

she became an island in the midst
of endless eddys of conversation
at family meals, gatherings, watching tv
that silently swirled over her head
her lipreading and quick intelligence
grasping and filling gaps in the voiced words
like an never ending jigsaw puzzle
she was a part of the family
yet not a part of the family
in the world of her silence…..

You are digging for the answers
Until your fingers bleed
To satisfy the hunger
To satisfy the need

she grew older, living her life
the way her parents wanted her to
no sign language allowed, pity was unheard of
softball superstar each summer
high school diploma, college diploma
reaching higher and further than her early deaf peers
her parents love and approval assured
but she was ever on the fence
not completely belonging to the hearing world
nor to the silent world of the deaf…..

They feed you on their guilt
To keep you humble keep you low
Some man and myth they made up
A thousand years ago

she knew from an early age she was lesbian
so terrified of discovery and disapproval
she did not emerge from the closet for a long time
she pretended to have crushes on boys
for her mother so loved making dresses
for the few school dance dates her daughter had
she never once heard her father say, “You’re pretty”
soon the “when are you going to get married”s died away
she treasured her secret crushes and fantasies of other women
keeping them locked in the silence of her heart….

Mothers tell your children
Be quick you must be strong
Life is full of wonder
Love is never wrong

she hid her first lover for five years
embracing the “dont ask, dont tell” dogma
until the day arrived that she outed herself
mother and father said, “we’re not surprised”
“why didn’t you trust us enough to tell us?”
anger and the tears exploded in counter accusation
“why didn’t you trust me enough to ask?”
and she realized just how many bricks it had taken
stretching back through the years of her life
to build that wall of silence
and who taught her to find the bricks in the first place….

Once they gave you the answers
Now they give you hell
Remember how they taught you
How much of it was fear

she has been out of the closet all these years since that day
things have been and will never be the same
they taught her too well how to be silent
and they taught her too well how fickle trust can be
she is now at a mid-life crisis, perhaps
but definitely rebelling against their silence and their guilt
finding that inner child to set her free from her silence
finding a healther and stronger way to trust…
then maybe, just maybe…..forgiveness will be found….
And the wall of silence will tumble down at last….

The legacy stops here
Oh, my child……
And as you pray in your darkness
For wings to set you free
You are bound to your silent legacy

© L. Kupfer
all rights reserved

itacilized verses borrowed from “Silent Legacy” by Melissa Etheridge

Bathed in an ever flowing cacophony
Keeping me connected to
Schedules….
Deadlines…..
Life…..

Yet
You approach in silence
Bound to it
Without choice or escape
All that I would claim essential
Surrendered
To nothingness
For all your ears cannot perceive
You are rich
Blessed with sounds
Only the heart can know
Music
So many are too busy to reach for
You hear so much more
Than we ever have
Teach me…
Show me the path
To amend the bereft legacy
Bequeathed by a hearing world
Is it possible
Can I reach past the tumult to hear
Twinkling eyes
Warm smiles
And the strength of tiny fingers
Wrapped around mine?
Indulgent silence
Granting me the gift of you
As I floundered, unknowningly drowning
In a flood of discord
Rescued
Seeing at last
The source of wonders to be found within
A legacy of silence…..

©S. Ranea Noha-Wright

With my eyes I have watched
Trees bending and swaying
Into the wind
The sudden forked flash
Of lightening
And the gyrating rhythm
Of raindrops

The telephone was invented quite accidentally
Little did Mr. A.G. Bell know that he had created a monster
But whether its rotatory, touch-tone, cordless, or cellular
I can only reach out and touch someone with my eyes

Radios, televisions, CD players are commonplace
VCR’s have spawned DVD’s, the latest is iTunes on the Internet
But for me, nothing can compare to seeing Melissa Etheridge
Or many other performers live and in person, with my eyes

With my eyes I have witnessed
The myriad riots of brilliant color and texture
The splendor of the frenetic and the sedate celebrations
That make up the madness known as Mardi Gras

Birthdays, graduations, funerals, Christmases
Family reunions, historical moments, ringing in the New Year
All the experiences and memories of a lifetime
My eyes have seen and celebrated them all

My eyes have drunk in the beauty
Of my lover’s body
Traveling the soft curves, gentle swells, delightful hollows
To mirror the nuances of pleasure and desire in her eyes

With my eyes, I see, I read, I cry
Just like every other human being
But I also hear and I listen
For my eyes are also my ears

©L. Kupfer

Lips come in all sizes and shapes
Thin and fat lips, tight and loose lips
Petite, average, generous, even puckered!

There are small mouths and big mouths
Each with their own peculiar mannerisms
Whether they be natural, adopted or learned.

Foreign objects often are dangling from lips
Or clenched in teeth, being chewed, spit, and loudly smacked
Adding texture to the words as they tumble forth

Missing teeth, dentures, stutters, lisps, braces, toothaches
And those upper lip hairy caterpillarsthat men love to nuture
All add to the overall challenge

There’s a difference between a shout and a whisper
A rapid fire staccato delivery and a leisurely country drawl
As well as a monotone that’s mumbled or grumbled

Imagine trying to decipher your dinner companion’s words
While they’re being chomped, squished, and crunched
Before, during, and after each forkful of food!

Many words look alike to the lipreader
Like have-half…… had-hat-and….two-too-due
Sometimes it’s guesswork, othertimes it’s logic and reasoning

Finally, contrasting shadows and light
Either enhance or distort the efforts
And its always impossible to lipread in the dark!

Whew, I’ve covered the entire obstacle course
Its not without its frustrations and mishaps
But somehow I get by……

©L. Kupfer

Silence
deafening silence
not of my choosing
never to hear
the whisper of a breeze through the trees
the bubbling of a mountain stream
the cry of a newborn baby
the laughter of children at play
the staccato rhythm of a rainfall
the booming roll of thunder
the harmony of a gospel choir
the haunting dialogue of memorable movies
the soft moans of a lover’s ectasy
threads in the rich tapestry of the sounds of life…….

silence
deafening silence
not of my choosing
I have thrown myself prostrate
countless times
upon this altar of silence
cursing
pleading
weeping
praying
to the gods of technology
and their medical acolytes
please take away this cross
of silence from me
spare me this desolation….

silence
deafening silence
not of my choosing
but
it is the hand of the potter
never ceasing
to shape me, mold me, knead me
a living sculpture
tempered anew each day in the kiln of life
not into the brittleness of despair and self pity
but into the strength and durability of faith
that all i was, all i am, and all i’ll ever be
is not limited
by this deafening silence

©L. Kupfer
all rights reserved