hp asked in Arts & HumanitiesPoetry · 1 decade ago

yes, I wrote it...Will you read this?

smelling the halls, I recognize

this would be the fourth, no, fifth time here

no...doesn't matter, I am here

against the pale pastels, I object

focused on squeaks and beeps and...

the pretty, yet matronly one,

they address me, so I reply

out comes gauze stuffed obscenities

filtered through catch bins of blood and

(Christ, did that come out of me?)

may I have some iced crush

you passed me on the green line

hi, what's your deviation?

mother for the day reaches me

musical hoses slap my chest

another beep and a squeak inform her

she can begin the ignoring

so I stare at her, dripping in me

becoming one through opaque liquidity

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  • :)(:
    Lv 5
    1 decade ago
    Favorite Answer

    Hi, o.k. - you wrote it, we read it, but did you do it ... for so many times - what???

    ''dripping in me / becoming one through opaque liquidity'' the so necessary new blood!?

    Is there a dialysis?

    And ''mother of the day'' is the medical nurse who can leave you for the hours you stay connected to that apparatus, after setting it to work for the right parameters observing the starting deviation?

    If this is about, then:

    http://video.answers.com/getting-off-dialysis-for-...

    :)(:

    Edit:

    Your ''stuffed obscenities'' made my mind to recall about one of the last patients whom I was helping into his recovering from a stroke, for his left hemiplegia. Smiling, without offence for his words, I asked him then why are all usually ''stuffed obscenities'' referring to the mother's and not to the father's :)

    And another patient, to whom the first one directed his ''special'' encouragement in the first place in view to psychically help (!?) him, turned towards his wife - there, skin & bones, with her first new borne baby at home, and being there for him, to work with her husband out of the same problems... She suddenly was pusshed bacwards by him, twice, almost to fell down.

    That is the rest of a human!? We are the ''catch bins of'' our life till the point which will filter our SELF...!

    But here it is not you, in this case :) but your stuffed blood filtered :)) not through your excretory kidneys - sorry!

    Your poem is good!

  • 1 decade ago

    I think you've gotten a strong foundation for this poem. It's still rough, however. Some parts are wonderful, others need some finessing of words. I've done a slightly closer reading below. I'm reading Cormick McCarthy's Child of God right now, the odd thing, the astounding details he puts into the story make it something incredible. We need that in poetry, that the words are also amazing words, not casual or throwaway or cliche. Combine that with your speaking voice that is throughout this poem and it will become something grand. You make me think of John Ashbery in The System although you don't spin the ideas as broad as he does, you're closer to the spine. I'd recommend you try writing about ten or twenty more, then come back to revise this one, but maybe put it away for a while before revising. Or if you're cranked and know, jump into it and be ruthless about your changes. What I do is read them aloud, and circle with a colored pencil or marker any part I don't feel really strong about. I don't revise right then, just circle so I know what to focus on later. Good luck !!!

    smelling the halls, I recognize

    this would be the fourth, no, fifth time here

    no...doesn't matter, I am here (why distance yourself in the first stanza?) (Nice in a weird way, it makes me keep reading)

    against the pale pastels, I object (it's this parenthetical phrasing that causes the distancing. Perhaps you want it because you have become so meta by your constant visits? I'd question if it somehow also pushes the reader away a bit.)

    focused on squeaks and beeps and... (soft rhyme, do you really want that?)

    the pretty, yet matronly one,

    they address me, so I reply (the singular has turned plural here: one to they, it confuses a bit)

    out comes gauze stuffed obscenities (nice)

    filtered through catch bins of blood and ("filtered" demands huge attention. I'm not quite convinced. Why not preposition here, such as "through catch bins" or "into catch bins"? Such little decisions are so critical)

    (Christ, did that come out of me?) (skip the paren's here, maybe italics or ignore any difference so you begin to mix up seen, thought, said)

    may I have some iced crush

    you passed me on the green line

    hi, what's your deviation? (the tone of this stanza is nice)

    mother for the day reaches me

    musical hoses slap my chest (something about this line defeats the previous tone.)

    another beep and a squeak inform her (not sure about the repeating)

    she can begin the ignoring

    so I stare at her, dripping in me (not convinced by "so"

    becoming one through opaque liquidity (nice sharp ending.)

  • 1 decade ago

    yes i read it, and then read it twice again until i understood it completely. Very great :) i agree that you have good word choice. it reminds me of what one of my sisters said the night she died *wipes tear from cheek.* stupid hospitals make me cry....but whenever i have to be in one if someone cries or stares i go into a fit of rampage: "don't look at me idiot" blurts out of my mouth lol

    She wrote:

    ".....I sit here around pins and needles watching the blood flow freely.....And now i leave this world of yours to meet the eminent nothingness. Don't watch me while i'm not here it will only ruin your memory. The key is hidden behind the desk and with comes great burden. Good night forever. I love you dear sister."

    she was twenty-three and a poet....sad

    read mine?

    http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index;_ylt=AgyEa...

  • 1 decade ago

    I read it... Was there anything specific I;m supposed to do now or just let you know that I read it?

    And also, is it about a hospital? It was really good, in my opinion, great word choice and stuff

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