Listen To The Silence: Poems About Life With A Physical Disability

Listen To The Silence:

Poems About Life With A Physical Disability

By: Sarah Ismail

Introduction and Thanks

This collection of poems started life as a dream. It is the type of book I’ve always wanted to

read- one that has lots of disabled characters who, while never forgetting their disabilities, know

that they also have abilities.

It was a university Creative Writing project that first got me to collect some of these poems into

book form. Some were written long after that project, others long before. Yet here they all are,

together. Some you may have seen before, as they have featured on my blog, Same Difference.

This is all my original writing- but these poems have been inspired by so many people that

listing them all here would take me a week! I thank them all, though, for being themselves and

being my friends.

Finally, I must thank my parents, for supporting my writing and everything else.

Normal

Normal, to me, is a strange place to be

A place I have no wish to see

Normal, to you, is the place where it’s true

That girls wear pink and boys wear blue

Normal, to him, is taking a bus

To pay a visit to Toys ‘R’ Us

Normal, to them, is the sight of this ink

Washing dishes in the kitchen sink

Normal, to them, is the sound of a song

Normal, to them, is singing along

Normal, to her, is the taste of cooked food

Normal, to her, is very, very good

Normal, to him, is playing a drum

Normal, to him, is hugging his mum

Normal, to him, is having a dad

Normal, to him, is very, very bad

Normal, to her, is loving a girl

Normal, to her, is taking a whirl

Normal, to him, is loving a boy

Normal, to him, is playing with a toy

Normal, to some, is a beautiful face

Normal, to some, is a silent place

Normal, to some, is life in a chair

Normal, to some, is “Who’s going to care?”

After reading this poem, I hope you know

Why normal is a place where I have no wish to go!

Acrostic Poem- Disability

Do not even bother to look at me

If what you are going to see

Stops at my eyes or at my ears

And if you’ll only talk to me to fill my eyes with tears.

Be a little sensitive, open up your eyes and see that

Inside wheelchairs there are girls who use their wheels to go for whirls.

Look past the sticks and past the chairs

If pets are really guide dogs, please pat them and say “Who cares?”

Try to see the best in us, please, and if you are able to do this with ease,

You might just change a life that is far from a breeze.

I Speak Silence

There is so much I want to say

But I can not, there is no way

I speak silence.

I want to tell him to take the bus

I want to tell her to spend more time with us

But I speak silence.

I want to tell her not to feel bad

I want to tell him he is the best dad

But I speak silence.

I want to ask him to play his drums

I want to tell him to do his sums

But I speak silence.

I want to ask her when it ends

I want to tell them they are my friends

But I speak silence.

I want to tell her to make it blue

I want to tell him I love him true

But I speak silence.

I want to tell him it is just a waste of time

I want to tell her to fix this crime

But I speak silence.

I want to play the game

I want to know her name

But I speak silence.

I want to know how winning feels

How I would love to move without these wheels

But I speak silence... no one understands.

There is so much I have to say

But I can not, there is no way

I speak silence.

Pastoral Poem: A Girl’s Reply To A Marriage Proposal

Can’t marry you, can’t give you love

For I am no gift from above

I can not sing, I can not talk

I can not move, I can not walk

Can’t marry you, can’t give you much

I have nothing to give as such

From your world I am far away

You don’t need me, that’s all I’ll say.

Can’t marry you, can’t kiss your lips

Can’t hold your hand, I have no grip

Can’t marry you, cause I can’t play

Along, what else is there to say?

So that’s why I can’t marry you

I love you but what can I do?

I’ll smile in silence all my life

But I can never be your wife.

Free Verse: Thinking I Can Read Your Mind

It is a sunny Saturday afternoon in Southall

I am trying to tell you that I am right next to you

But you do not answer... not even in the only way you can.

But I look at you and I only feel sad, because I wish you could answer all the time as You once

did, if only with a smile...

I take one look at you as you sit there right next to me

All I am sure of is that you can hear the people, the little boys

The ones who are all enjoying the sun...

I wonder what you think of them as I watch you

Sitting there more silent than usual

Hardly smiling, and I think I can read your mind

I do not think you like the sun

But they did not even take the time to ask you if you wanted to be in the sun ... and I Wish they

had… because to me, it seems unfair that you are not given a choice in These things… but

how can I tell them that? I wish I could, but the words are trapped In my heart…

I wonder what you think of the one who stands behind you and treats you like a child

I find out later that all she really wants from this sunny Saturday afternoon in Southall

Is something very 'normal'

Just a letter of reference

I wonder how they can go to a place like this

And only want a piece of paper

When I am only there to see you smile

To see your mum spend time with you

Away from all the things that she has to see

That no parent should.

But then I realise that they are all the same

Finding one who is not like that is unusual

A pleasure when it happens, but one we hardly get.

They leave you alone in an empty room

My mum is rushing home today

So I turn to follow them

But I stop in my tracks… and turn back.

How can I leave you alone?

How can they leave you alone?

I want to tell you where I was yesterday

I want to see your reaction

I think if you could, you might smile if you knew that I still go there…

But you sit there more silent than usual

And yawn

And finally, I read your mind

Or at least, I think I do...

You would rather have been at home

Than in this place, today

On this sunny Saturday afternoon in Southall

But when this thought crosses my mind, I do not feel insulted

I only wish that you had been given the choice…

But it’s no person’s fault that you can not use your voice…

The Room

The room is a special place on a very ‘normal’ street.

The outside world doesn’t even know it’s there.

But even if they did, I wonder, would they really care?

The room is always noisy, filled with sounds of stamping feet.

Feet taking steps, some for the first time.

Or the feet of parents who have left their children there

To receive a few hours of her expert care.

While they have a rest, that for some is so rare,

That no one has the heart to see it as a crime.

If I tell you the countless reasons why we love the room,

You might see why we do not care that it rarely meets a broom.

Yes it may be a place hidden on an otherwise ‘normal’ street,

Hidden away from the cruel world, who only laugh because we cannot use our feet,

But to us it is ours, our room full of toys.

A room where boys meet girls, and a room where girls meet boys.

A room where we meet our friends.

A room where our achievement never ends.

A room where we learn to walk.

A room where we learn to talk.

A room where we listen and smile,

A room where our silence is understood, if only for a while.

A room full of toys and books.

A room where you can fall and nobody looks.

There is a radio there and when it is on,

We can listen to the news, or the latest hit song.

She painted the walls bright yellow a few years ago.

Why she chose that colour, none of us will ever know.

But I am sure she had her reasons.

The paint has lasted through the seasons.

Now they are covered with our pictures,

Which shows you how much she loves us.

On the windowsill, one of many toys,

Is a beautifully decorated model bus.

From this room people come and go,

But not always as they please.

You see many of us have many problems and so,

For some communication is far from a breeze.

In this room we know we’ll be treated with love.

In this room we might even be protected by angels from above.

From each now bright yellow wall,

The ghosts of childhood moments call.

For many children, some now grown old,

That room holds precious memories, of friends and paper stars of gold.

The carpet feels like the sand on a beach

We stand on it, she gives us toys, or hands, or new goals that we have to stretch to reach.

The window at the back looks out on her pear tree,

My favourite memory of the room is the time she gave some pears to me!

The person I describe on these pages

Is the owner of the room.

Someone many people will love through the ages.

The real reason why we love that room where lives are saved,

The one who understands our silence

The reason we have never given up and never caved

Into the pressures of the world outside the room,

The world where uncontrollable movement is sometimes mistaken for violence.

If the world knew what we do in that room

They might not see the point.

They might lock it up, after using a broom

To sweep up the memories we make as she loosens our each and every joint.

This description of our special room

Holds a message in disguise

Next time you, mainstream world, see a room locked away

Please, take a minute, and stop and simply say,

What happens here, is it just an isolated room?

Or would the events that take place in this room make me stop and stare in surprise?

Acrostic Poem- Inclusion

I have every right to be here in this school

Not according to the mainstream, though, they just don't think I'm

Cool. I wish I could set them straight somehow and let them see

Let them see just how much knowledge is trapped inside of me.

Until they can see that, none of us have a chance

So please, can't you show them, tell them to give us all a second glance?

I have no one else to ask but you

Only you can make my dream come true, so please go out and say

No to special education, today and every day!

One Look At The Chair

“She won’t be welcomed in this school

There's very few here who will think that she is cool.”

”But…” Said her dad, feeling more than a little sad,

”Our daughter has got such a brain!

She knows you won't get far in London if you can't handle rain!”

But they took one look at the chair

And they decided that they didn't care

Is that fair?

”She won’t be welcomed in this school

There's very few here who will think that she is cool.”

So her parents won't bring her here again

She stays silent so they don't know how she's handled the pain.

The teachers took one look at the chair

And they decided that they didn't care

Is that fair?

”She won’t be welcomed in this school

There's very few here who will think that she is cool.”

”How will she go upstairs?”

”We've no space here for these moving chairs!”

”Well install a lift, then!” Said her dad, trying not to cry.

”We can't, sir.” No one cares. He always gets the same reply.

After just one look at the chair

Teachers always decide they just don't care

Is that fair?

Maybe not but just one look

Just one look was all it took

They took one look at her brand new wheels

And said ‘Why bother how she feels?’

After just one look at the chair

About her perfect test results, well, who has time to care?

Is that fair?

One look at the chair was all that it took

For them not to ask her favourite book

Which is any Harry Potter, just in case you care

But at the school, just one sight of the chair

Made a class of year elevens stop doing coursework just to stare

Just for one sight of a chair on wheels

"She doesn't have a voice, why should we care how she feels?"

All this because they took one look at the chair

Is that fair?

As for the girl in the chair

She could teach them everything

In one lesson, but do they care?

Of course not, they're too busy having

One look at the chair.

Is that fair?

Is it fair that she's not welcome in this school

Is it fair that so few would think she's cool

Is it fair that they base all their lies

On a chair on wheels, and not the smile that lights her eyes

Not on how she feels.

Is it fair that when they take one look at the chair

They decide straight away that they just don't care

Is that fair?

Next time a teacher sees a student in a seat on wheels

I hope they'll stop and see a person, and think of how the person feels.

Because I promise you there are so many out there

With so much more to give your schools than just a moving chair.

Would it be fair

If everyone took one look at the chair

And decided straight away that they just didn't care?

If all it takes is installing a lift in your school

Buy a lift. You will buy so many a priceless gift

And make them feel so cool

So go ahead and be the one to change the rule

Take one look at the person inside the chair

Give them just one smile, to show that you care

Because, teachers, it's only fair.

We can't drive cars, that may be true

But we might just get A stars, teachers, it's all up to you

So let us in, and let us win

This timeless war, we can't be bothered to fight any more

Let us try, don't make us cry

Show us that someone out there really cares

Show us that not everybody stares

At countless girls in countless wheelchairs

She may never wear high heels

But all she asks is that you look at her, not at her wheels

After all she's the girl with enough of a brain

To know you won't get far in London if you can't handle rain!

She may not be very bright

But please let her find out for herself, we all deserve that right.

Please give her a chance

She may never participate in Dance

But please give her a second glance

Please don't decide that you don't care

After taking one look at the chair

Because tell me yourselves, teachers, would that be fair?

Special Mothers

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most children are climbing frames

Their kids get called cruel names

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most children are playing games

Their kids watch from standing frames

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most children are climbing stairs

Their kids watch from moving chairs

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most children go to school

Their kids are told they’re too uncool

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most girls are wearing high heels

Their daughters are watching from seats on four wheels

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

Let me tell you about special mothers

For they are mothers like no others

While most boys are kicking footballs

Their sons are watching through gaps in brick walls

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still they have to see all this.

But the thing about these special mothers

That really makes them like no others

Is that while most parents listen for a lie

These mothers are watching… their children die

They sit in silence watching this

Which is the opposite of bliss

Yet still, they have to see all this.

Free Verse: Wish You Were Here

The scene in the picture makes me wonder

Did you do the same thing, once?

Or want to, wish you could, if you only had the chance?

Or did you always know that he would give you so much more than just a second glance?

If only you still had the chance

To find out...

I stand there, where you should be... sitting, at least

I think she gave up wishing you could stand, somewhere along the way.

I stare at the pictures, the ones on her walls... your walls,

Or they were, in my mind, when it was your house, before it hurt to think of it that way.

and I stand there with your mum in her front hall... your front hall...

I don't let it show but to me, somewhere, it is still your house, and she is still your mum...

There was a time when I might have been there with you...

If I had only made the time then, but now, at least, I do...

Now I am there for her, with her...

Opening what she still calls your e-mail...

If only it was... if only you could read it, I'd fill it with jokes...

But the letters she gets in it now make me want to cry.

And her phone books, they have been the same, since our numbers filled them in nursery

school...

She has kept your friends, as what they were to you

They are still where you put them in her phone books...

I laugh with your sister...

Your dad... well the only one that matters, but I never found out what you thought of that...

What would you think of him now?

He makes me smile, and I wish I had known him then... when I got to meet you once a week...

I think you knew him then, but now I'll never know...

Because I sit there with them as they all make me smile...

I know you could be watching me now...

But all I can do is wish you were here... there... in that room... with them... because What am I

doing there without you?

Only feeling like it is where you should be...

And then I wish I could go back to the time

Before my time had to change.

Then I wonder... if we still met there, where we used to meet,

Would you want to meet me there... or anywhere?

Did you ever want to meet me there?

Did you wait for the chance, like I did, in that place...

Or was it just the place you loved

Just the place you waited for?

Then I wonder again, what you would say, or think, if you saw me now.

Would you want me to be there?

Would you want any of us to be there?

If it was still yours, or even if you could somehow tell her what to do with it...

What would you say?

What would you say about any of it?

She tells me something, and I can only wonder if you would like it...

I can only guess now, and hope, and wish you were here...

Wish you were here, so I could go there to laugh, to smile, to celebrate with you...

Not just to sit there and feel like something, some one... is missing...

Payback

First, you put my mum through hell during my birth

Then, you thought you could pay her back

Said you wanted to improve my life on Earth.

Can your payback buy back my mother's hopes and dreams?

I've got news for you, it's impossible, as easy as it seems

Can your payback buy me new arms and legs

Ones that work? Thanks to you, mine don't, and never will.

Can your payback buy me a voice, to use when my mother begs

To know what I would say to her, while I spend all my time lying still?

All your payback can do is buy me a moving chair

And a few hours with someone who is paid to care.

Guess what? All they really do to me is stare

Or sit around telling the world that my life is so unfair.

Your payback can't buy me the friendship

Of those who are paid to care

It can't buy arms, legs or a voice that works

And you can't pay me back for the pain of a stare.

You can never pay my parents back

Enough to buy a son

You see, there's no way back from Heaven

Even if I wanted one...

So, you see, you ruined my life

A life that didn't even last

Even money can't buy it back

Now my life is in the past

The payback you gave to my mother

Can't give her what she really wants

So what is the point of your payback?

You tell me, what am I going to do with plants?

I Wish

I wish you could be me

For just a little while

I wish you could see

Just what it's like to see you smile...

I wish you could walk

A step in anyone's shoes

I wish you could talk

Just enough to choose...

I wish you could eat ice cream

I wish you could eat cake

I wish I could ask you if there was any truth in my childhood dream

I only wish to have a conversation with you, for goodness' sake!

Sometimes I wish we could fight

For that's what most friends do

Most would wonder if my head is right...

But I want to have a reason to be angry with you!

I wish you could watch the TV

As they give some credit to you

I wish you could tell me

What exactly did you do?

But all these are wishes that can never come true...

For you can't use your voice...

So I wish all my wishes in silence

And in this I have no choice...

The Concept Of Normality

The kids who are different

Have something to say to

Every member of what we like to call the ‘mainstream’ world

Can you look past our wheelchairs?

Our walkers, our white sticks?

Not at them, but please look at us

Can you do that for us?

Everywhere we go,

People only see what they want to see

That is, the wheelchairs, the walkers, the white sticks, not us.

Our dream is to be accepted by the world

For more than just that

Not as wheelchair users, guide dog owners

Or ‘the one with the walking frame’

Remember, if you will take the time, that we are people too

Maybe, just maybe, we have hearts

And maybe, just maybe, they will be broken by your cruel words

Let me know if you meet normality walking down the street

It doesn’t exist in our minds

Though we know that, being members of the mainstream,

You might not agree