Revision 2

Light from the nursing desk
insinuates down dark hallways.
Windblown branches outside create
snaking shadows on old plaster walls
painted a sickly pea green.
I almost hear the patients'
inner voices cry out to leave
this sterile place.

I push my cart from room to room,
listening to snores, gurgles,
or quiet breathing from each bed.
Some cry out in sleep, and I wonder
if they still dream.

It's always the same-
I clean, swab, bandage, turn
or medicate, whatever needs be done.
The swish of ventilators keep making
insistant sounds and my rubber soles
squeak slightly on waxed tile floors.
This is the last stop on their journey,
a one-way ticket home.

I hang another bag of nourishment
and restart the pump that keeps
these empty shells alive. If I were God,
they would not be here.

--

Judith Anne Labriola


Revision 1

Light from the nursing desk
insinuates its way down
dark hallways.
Windblown branches outside create
weird shadows on old walls painted
a sickly shade of pea green.
I can almost hear the patient's
inner voices crying out to leave
this sterile place.

I push my cart from room to room,
listening to snores, gurgles,
or quiet breathing from each bed
and hear them cry out in sleep.
I wonder if they can still dream


It's always the same-
I clean, swab, bandage, turn
or medicate, whatever needs be done.
The swish of ventilators keep making
insistent sounds, and my rubber soles
squeak slightly on worn tile floors.
This is the last stop on their journey,
a one-way ticket home.

I hang another bag of nourishment
and restart the pump that keeps
them alive. If I was God, they
would not be here.

--

Judith Anne Labriola


Original Version

Light from the nursing desk insinuates
its way down dark hallways.
Blowing branches outside create
weird shadows on the walls.
I can almost hear each patient's
inner voice crying to leave
this sterile place.

I push my cart from room to room,
listening to the snored, gurgled,
or quiet breathing from each bed.
It's always like this, I clean,
swab, bandage, turn or medicate,
whatever needs be done.

The swish, swish of machines keep
making their insistant sounds.
My rubber soles squeak slightly
on worn tile floors.
This is the last stop on
the circuit...their
one way ticket home.

--

Judith Labriola
November 2007

Hello Judi,
Good to see you back. I was about to judge Judy had left the building.

Is this an indication where you've been the last little while?


A few observations - - -
please don't center unless there's a reason for it, such as shaped poetry. Carlton Cards won't be interested, and the rest of us find it mostly annoying. Think of the good ole daze when there were typewriters - it took a fair bit of doing to center anything, and it wasn't done. Now a click of the mouse and presto.

No punctuation in a title. It ruins things.

V1, "blowing branches outside" is the subject clause. I get the weird image of branches huffing and puffing their little buds out, each one trying to outblow the other. It would be better to describe them as "windblown" or something along those lines.

In V2, you could say "listening to the snores, gurgles, or quiet breathing" if you were of a mind to.

V3, a coupla thoughts. There's subject/verb disagreement here >>
The swish, swish of machines keep
making their insistant sounds.
It's the swish that keeps making its incessant sounds (is that the word you meant?). It should be singular "its" here too.
Otherwise, it would need to be
The machines keep swish, swish, swishing
their insistant sounds. typo in insistant, no matter what.

There's nuttin wrong with your last sentence, but consider >>
This is their last stop on
the circuit... a
one way ticket home.
Of course, that may not be what you intend to say.

Best

Merlin

Hi Eric, My daughter has been very ill, and I have been spending most of my time
in the hospital with her, but I went in early today to do battle with her doctors, who
want to send her home that way. I won...thankfully.


A few observations - - -
please don't center unless there's a reason for it, such as shaped poetry. Carlton Cards won't be interested, and the rest of us find it mostly annoying. Think of the good ole daze when there were typewriters - it took a fair bit of doing to center anything, and it wasn't done. Now a click of the mouse and presto.

I don't think Carlton cards would get any submissions from me...nor Hallmark...only Blue Mountain Arts, lol.

No punctuation in a title. It ruins things.

Oh, comeon- you take all the fun out of life!...

V1, "blowing branches outside" is the subject clause. I get the weird image of branches huffing and puffing their little buds out, each one trying to outblow the other. It would be better to describe them as "windblown" or something along those
lines.

windlblown is good...change there coming up..


In V2, you could say "listening to the snores, gurgles, or quiet breathing" if you were of a mind to.

I will consider this also!

V3, a coupla thoughts. There's subject/verb disagreement here >>
The swish, swish of machines keep
making their insistant sounds.
It's the swish that keeps making its incessant sounds (is that the word you meant?). It should be singular "its" here too.
Otherwise, it would need to be
The machines keep swish, swish, swishing
their insistant sounds. typo in insistant, no matter what.

I hesitated about that verb, and figured I would get called on it if it was wrong
and you did...I was tired and depressed when I wrote this...it brought back memories
of my "County Home" days when I worked the 11-7 shift...a very eerie place. I worked in the skilled nursing units, where the coma patients on trachs, and end stage Alzheimer and dementia patients were kept. It was the last stop on the journey..a sad, sad place. Somebody had to do it. I learned a lot of lessons in those days back in the 90's.

There's nuttin wrong with your last sentence, but consider >>
This is their last stop on
the circuit... a
one way ticket home.
Of course, that may not be what you intend to say.

Yup, it WAS what I wanted to say..but I always look forward to my "Merlin" crits. They always make sense. God Bless, Judi

Hi Again, Erik,

My daughter is now in rehab for 2 weeks, learning to deal with her disability...she was diagnosed several days ago with Parkinson's Disease, and the doctors finally sent her to rehab for at least 2 weeks. (thankfully) She has to learn how to deal with her new limitations for she will have to be in a wheel chair from now on...she cannot stay on her feet for very long without falling. This is sad...she is only 47, and is my sweetheart.

At least we know what it is now...it is very hard to diagnose, and she had to go through a myriad of tests to rule out other things like multiple sclerosis, etc.

Oh well...better get some sleep...another busy day tomorrow.

Judi

Dear Judi,

I found this quite effective in the original, indeed thought I had commented on it somewhere !

Light from nursing desk
insinuates its way
down dark hallways. - move down down one line ?
WindBlown branches create - you missed out the B, del "outside" !
weird shadows on old walls
painted sickly green. - move word down a line, abbreviate ?
I sense patients' inner voices- briefer "sense", and make plural by moving the apostr ?
crying OUT to leave
this sterile place.

Without comments etc :

Light from nursing desk
insinuates its way
down dark hallways.
Windblown branches create
weird shadows on old walls
painted sickly green.
I sense patients' inner voices
crying out to leave
this sterile place.

Offered for you to adopt, adapt or chuck. If I have been of any use to you, I can do the rest if you want/need.

Love
Alan

Thanks Alan...

I have re-written several parts of the poem, and I thank you for your comments..Blessings, Judi

Judi... I liked the revision..its a very haunting piece, I have been in that sort of nursing home to visit and it is a sad sad place.. Sorry to hear about your duaghter Parkinsons is not a nice thing to have, I hope she stays well enough to enjoy life...Hugs
Steve

Dear Steve,

I worked in the skilled nursing unit of the county home in Pa on the 11-7 shift. Our floor housed all the end staged Alzheimers patients, and those who were comatose, and on vents or trachs. The other nurses used to laugh at the way I talked to them all, for I hoped that on some level they could know that someone cared in some way. It was so sad.

Thanks for asking about my Linda...she is coming home from rehab this Friday, and we are happy to be getting her back home to us.

My Best, Judi