The Ringing in my Ears

 

There’s a ringing in my ears

but it doesn’t seem to be tinnitus,

it’s real and annoying,

high pitched and shrill,

constant and prolonged,

and making me irritable.

 

It seems to be coming from

the TV, the internet, the webs

of information swirling about

in the very air, broadcast in

every conceivable direction,

assaulting me with a ringing noise.

 

A mish-mash of noise,

coalescing into a pealing high pitch

through the tiny hairs of my

inner ear, through the eardrum

and into my over taxed and

under stimulated brain.

 

The “he said” and “she said”,

and “they said” and “he reported”

and “they alleged”, amidst

the crying pleas of the underserved,

the overserved, the guilty and the

innocent, comingling into a ringing deafness.

 

Sometimes, it goes away, in quiet places,

a drink in hand, a light fading Summer breeze,

tickling my forehead as errant hairs dance

about in cooling wind, a lover to lock eyes

with and feel the comfort of that silent

confirmation of mutual relaxation.

 

A short-lived respite among the organ

grinder’s constant insistence to fill the

air with noise, a jangling jingling of musical

gears grinding, producing a hellish decibel

level of ringing. Ringing of the ears,

followed by wringing of the hands.

 

The tintinnabulation of the Bells,

the ringing in my ears.

I hope it stops soon.