This poem reflects the intensity and clarity poetic writing can bring to understanding our shared humanity. But context counts. This poem was added as a comment by Tim Shanasy to the Embedded Poem, Dead Love, by Will Storr posted in this blog. The poem howls with rage about the difficulty of living with tinnitus. When you know this context, you don’t just read the words, you also hear the scream of the white noise.
Like an endless steam train with horns ablaze,
about to emerge from it’s tunnel,
into a forest of crazy cicadas.
This, endlessly, a photo of noisy sounds,
steadfastly displayed in the gallery walls of my mind.
In sleep and in surf.
The only relief . .
Subconscious or immersed,
the only respite.
To awake, is to take control of the emotions.
To sink, or to swim. I swim.
The trick is to normalise.
How bad is this really?
Only to ponder truth briefly, is all it takes.
The plight of so many others, must be so much worse.
The human condition lives on, in us all.
Tim Shanasy
Tim Shanasy is a Byron Bay musician and, obviously, poet.
Pic from Travis Hornung’s Photostream
Poempig Blog 