Poetry Forum

Hospital halls muted with ecru paints,
lined by waiting bedpans, shucked blankets,
signs of bedlam headed off softly by a flowery border
to bring it all in.

Interior décor is important,
warm walls look less likely to harbor bacteria:
sterility is doled out in squirts of hand sanitizer—
a moisturizing safety blanket.

IV machines blip like ancient Atari arcade games,
PONG is not so bad but Centipede sounds start nurse-fetching
frenzies: flat-lining panics. Game Over.
Kindly defibrillate and try again.

Decaying grey silhouettes, in private tombs,
lay half covered by clean white quilts someone’s widow knitted.
Wraiths rest up, hoping to recover enough dexterity to pee into a cup—
not on themselves.

Inside, one person at a time files by
to give the dying permission to leave—
don’t hang on to long, we want to grieve, to move on.
Don’t stick around on our account.

Keith,

This is very powerful and bleak. It reminded me of The Old Fools by Larkin:

http://www.poemhunter.com/p/m/poem.asp? ... poem=36458

This sort of poetry is sometimes known as "sick verse" - a term which I recently added to my glossary. Sylvia Plath was rather good at it.

This works well because of the matter of fact way in which you itemise things.

Thought the last verse might need a bit of a re-jig though. The last line seems to repeat itself a bit. This sounded like a stronger ending to me:

Inside, one person at a time files by
to give the dying permission to leave—

I liked the comparson between the medical equipment and electronic games.

Undoubtedly one of your finest. Try sending it to a poetry mag???!!

Cam

Woah. This is seriously good.

I have to head off now, but I'm coming back to this.

Really good Keith.

"Ancient Atari arcade games" - that's just a beautiful tripping phrase.

David

I must agree with Cam about this, it is one of your best.

'signs of bedlam headed off softly by a flowery border
to bring it all in.'

First impressions of hospital and poem, a great lead-in to verse two's cynical view of the 'cosmetic surgery', or the decor.

'sterility is doled out in squirts of hand sanitizer—
a moisturizing safety blanket.' - Very effective use of sibilants

Verse three can quite easily speak for itself, and it does - in loud electronic tones.
Verse four was the most cynical (and my favourite) -

'Decaying grey silhouettes, in private tombs,
lay half covered by clean white quilts someone’s widow knitted.
Wraiths rest up, hoping to recover enough dexterity to pee into a cup—
not on themselves.'

This is a complete poem in itself, excellent.

I would agree with Cam about ending after line two of the last verse. Sounds good to me.

I take my skull cap off to you sir - and I'm not even Jewish.

A very good one.

Barrie

One of your best for a while certainly, yet to my mind not up there with The Bastard, A Year Among Vines etc. Not a criticism, just a personal preference. It is emotionally neutral, deliberately clinical, like a hospital. Scary places.

Well done.

One question. Were you wandering around Geriatrics because there was no waiting room in Maternity?

Cheers

Nah, last week I was in Maternity, this week the Coronary Care Unit for my dad. Sick of hospitals.

I'm thinking about revising the ending, dunno.

Cheers,

Keith

You are a man of extremes. End seems fine to me, wait to see what other critters say.
Was in hopital with my dad on monday, fortunately nothing worrying.

I suppose felt worse for him.

Extremes?

My dad's was a "mild" heart attack. What was yours?

-K.

The extremes at both ends of life.

He was simply having a cataract removed but Im not sure he really knew what was going on.

Is your dad back home?

going back today, actually. the modern surgeries really are remarkable.

I agree. The problems I, in my healthy ignorance, thought were serious are now quite routinely solved. Remarkable.

very evocative and unsettling- good work

Indeed, unsettling and grim as are hospitals, well captured.

What is there left to say? You portrayed the hospital atmosphere to the "T"- and I never would have thrown that Atari thing in myself, but you know something? It's my favorite part. Well-played!

Not a poem to enjoy, I certainly don't think the poem was worth the experience ...I'm not sure where it ranks. Cam's definitely right though, it is one of the best I've seen from you.

That last line...hmm....subtle difficulty. I'd actually cut "we want to grieve, to move on" from the line before it, that way the "don't"s are more emphasized and it doesn't feel as dragged out. See what you think.

- Caleb