Tinnitus, Deafness and Ear Problems Support Group
This group is for those coping with Tinnitus (ringing ears or ear noise), hearing loss, and all ear issues. Join to find support and get advice from others.
...don't know what kind of idea this is and it's been suggested before. Even though we might be losing some sanity by T, how about trying to keep up some creativity. I'm going to try to express T in poem and song, please chime in...
Have you heard the still waters?
A good book in a quiet room?
When the wind doesn't blow and birds do not sing,
The sound of silence invaded by scream?
Like a blind eye that see's too much light,
And the pain in the leg cut off in war.
I long for silence though the ring is now me,
If I'm full of sound I better sing.
You take NOT my life though you torment me,
I'm fighting in the ring with the mighty Mr. T.
The vowel I best know is "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"
If I'm full of sound I best always sing.
Here's my song sad but true,
It's about the silence I once knew.
Have you ever not wanted to live but not wanted to die,
What's a hundred years in eternal time?
(I best be "stayin alive")
Why me, oh why me?
Why not me, oh why not me?
A year ago I didn't think I could make it another day,
300+ days later I'm not alright but I'm okay.
"God willing, though I'm tone deaf and sing horribly, I want to sing another day. ---I can handle this and U2. Bono has terrible T---"
Have you heard the still waters?
A good book in a quiet room?
When the wind doesn't blow and birds do not sing,
The sound of silence invaded by scream?
Like a blind eye that see's too much light,
And the pain in the leg cut off in war.
I long for silence though the ring is now me,
If I'm full of sound I better sing.
You take NOT my life though you torment me,
I'm fighting in the ring with the mighty Mr. T.
The vowel I best know is "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee"
If I'm full of sound I best always sing.
Here's my song sad but true,
It's about the silence I once knew.
Have you ever not wanted to live but not wanted to die,
What's a hundred years in eternal time?
(I best be "stayin alive")
Why me, oh why me?
Why not me, oh why not me?
A year ago I didn't think I could make it another day,
300+ days later I'm not alright but I'm okay.
"God willing, though I'm tone deaf and sing horribly, I want to sing another day. ---I can handle this and U2. Bono has terrible T---"
-
My 6mo twin DD's are EBF and just started rice cereal on the first. Everything has been going fine except this morning one of them had a diaper rash (lots of redness around her anus). I read this as one of the signs of an allergy. BUT I did just buy a different brand diaper yesterday (which they have used randomly before w/no issues). Do you think its the cereal or the diaper? Im ready to start...
Oh - and I LOVE Bono, he's one of my heroes!
Tinnitus
By Anna Jean Mallinson
Penance for all my privacies, my inward-looking -
this thin metallic veil
between me and the world's messages.
Reliable trill, I can count on you
like an aching grudge or a depression:
you are always, after the hubbub,
still there: obstinate cricket,
perched on the rim
of my left ear's labyrinth.
You are attrition,
the piercing wind that will wear away
the arabesques of my ear:
invisible bird's whistle
against the whorled bone.
Listen, I'll ignore you, obscure you
with music, with voices,
but when the world stops speaking
you pipe up and shrill
that you have been waiting, my faithful,
for this rendezvous,
droning your monotone
on the edge of my imagined mind.
I remember Beethoven, aureoled bust, icon
on my childhood copies of Etude
slanting on the upright piano:
his mind, where he composed hymns
to the gods who attended him there,
became a cacophonous junk--yard
where sounds pitched and clanged
like unballasted objects
in a ship at sea. So, tempest-tossed,
he loured and scowled, but still contrived
melodious cadenzas
above his private clamour.
Little tin whistle, you are my secret cross,
my hidden torment,
in spite of which I smile and smile.
And you have your uses:
through you I can bargain with God
against the major plagues
that might wrack my body,
shatter my mind.
Sometimes you are a reassurance,
almost: you speak to me
of survival: you tell me to count
my blessings: I could be listening
to my heart's drum, a thunderous lob-dup,
to the torrents of blood and lymph
in my body's rivers. But only you
have escaped to tell me:
I'm alive, I'm alive, I'm alive.
(c) 2004 Anna Jean Mallinson, all rights reserved
(Applause)
Chilling, humorous, truthful, poignant, and ultimately heart felt. What a telling, and wonderful expression of your experience of the last 300+ days. We best be "stayin' alive" -Barry Gibb
You may not have been the second coming of Jimi Hendrix as hoped. But being the reincarnation of Walt Whitman is just as well. Good stuff from the deacon. Thank you, sir. Interesting find by Dave as well.
Thank you...Share away, I'm flattered. Looking forward to your poetic post...
Didn't Walt Whitman have boyfriends instead of girlfriends? - what u tryin ta say, fool -
hope no takes offense - this is a joke
Any progress on the demagnetizer?
I tell you, that line about fighting in the "ring" with Mr. T may have been more poetic than you knew. I passed the poem on to a friend at work who contracted T during a recent pregnancy and she loved it. Oh, I wasn't aware of Walt Whitman's err.. recreational activities but I will say I think you're "faaabulous!" JohnK. haha!
Kidding aside I wanted to point this out please:
"What's a hundred years in eternal time?"
This is the ultimate statement for all of us and anyone who suffers. No matter what life brings, ending life prematurely is pointless as life is already far too brief. 100 years is but a fleeting moment in my Father's time.
Please know if we make it the first year year with significant T, we will make it 40 more years with significant T. And every year we deal with it, we deal with it better and better.