Thread: Hope

Someone
roll the ache
into a white gurney,
hospital chair,
to the mattress,
grey and barely there.

You, there;
take my clothes,
crumple or fold them.
Give me that cotton gown
that’s been freshly laundered
a thousand times, worn down.

Daddy
Do not come to visit
to see what you have wrought.
Don't dare tell the doctor you never did a thing.
Sorry to dissapoint you.
He tells me I can fly once he heals this broken wing.

Hello Silver,

I read this all the way and I must confess that I found every bit of this piece tantalizing. The blend of command (or perhaps, instructions) in the face of abject helplessness was just interesting. There was hope in it.

And BTW, why didn't the narrator try some herbal medicine or spiritual devotion? Nevermind. . Just glad to be in the pen again.


Fox.

Foxryder, glad you appreciated the piece and that you picked up on the contrasting. Yes, the commands in the face of abjectness.

Hi Laurie,

This is an intriguing work of art. I love how you reveal your thoughts in the last verse. You let it out.
But the last line I don't understand. Is it your father telling you he can heal your broken wing?

Originally Posted by SilverMoon

Daddy
Do not come to visit
to see what you have wrought.
Dare not tell the doctor you never did a thing.
Sorry to disappoint you.

He tells me I can fly once he heals this broken wing.

Thank you so much, Nellie. Without spelling it out I wanted to convey that it was the doctor who was going to give his female patient flight/wings - Freedom. "Sorry to disappont you" refers to the father who had commited a psychologial crime on the female patient, and I indicated that he takes delight in his daughter's condition which he caused. "Sorry to disapoint you". Someone with perhaps a sadistic sociopathic condition.

"Dare not tell the doctor you never did a thing" Using "thing" as a singular, I was hoping the reader would get the idea that she had been sexually abused by the father. If I had used "things" I leave it to the reader to assume a myriad of possible abususes.

Dare not tell the doctor you never did a thing

Sorry to disappoint you.

He tells me I can fly once he heals this broken wing.

I'm glad you found it to be intriguing and hope I answered your question. Laurie

Laurie, I get the feeling of metaphorical mental hospitalization, where the "patient" knows that the cure is more elusive than hoped. Quite interesting. Only a few nits Punctuation and spelling.

Hope

Someone
roll the ache
into a white gurney,
hospital chair; (semicolons separate independent clauses. this should be a comma.)
to the mattress,
grey and barley there. (Do you mean "barely"?)

You, there; (Here is a good spot for a semicolon. You there; take my clothes, crumple them or fold them.)
take my clothes, (comma here)
crumple or fold them.
Give me that cotton gown
that’s been freshly laundered
a thousand times, worn down.

I couldn't find anything to critique on this poem. It's beautiful and at the first three lines you know its going to be sad but beautiful (or at least I did) The tittle is perfect, and the last line, my favorite

Thanks so much van, always appreciate help with puncuation. And think I can get that semi colon down. Glad you found it interesting. I think the briefest poem I've ever written! Laurie

un named, So you did see the sadness creeping in. Good that's what I was aiming for! And am so glad you liked the last line. They are so important! Thank you. Laurie

This is different, Laurie, love. The contrast of the use of commands by one in such a situation is brilliant. Initially, your use of "worn down" to describe fabric seemed a little off, but the more I read, the more I liked it. This will sound crazy, but to me, it applies to the patient as well, if that makes any sense. I absolutely adore the strategic placement and duality of "Sorry to disappoint you", it goes both ways, sorry I fell apart, sorry I'll be getting better. Onto the nits. In S1, into should be onto a gurney, unless she's in a wheelchair and want to be smashed into one. In S3, not too fond of the archaic dare not, I humbly suggest Don't dare tell the doctor, if only for the sake of alliteration. Both that line and the final line are sticking out a bit too far and are visually displeasing. Perhaps you would consider breaking them in two. The brevity belies the depth in this piece, which is also a favorable attribute. Although this piece upset me greatly, that last line is really befitting of the title for it gives one hope all will be well. Different, perhaps, but still as engaging as all your work.

Lisa, per usual, your suggestions are keen and invaluable. I'm going to attempt to do something else with "Sorry to disappoint" (was meant to be trenchant) because of the brievity and that it's up for interpretation. Will work with the breaks. Glad you liked the piece as whole though! Laurie

Don't you dare touch "Sorry to disappoint you", it's highly effective and perfectly placed, at least in my opinion. Sorry to be so bossy, Laurie, but I think it has a great deal of impact as is.

OK, Yes Mame!

Laurie I love the second and third stanza's, I second Lisa's "don't touch that line"! I believe I'm 'getting' the feeling of the first stanza, but I'm having trouble with line three and four. I'm going to have to read that stanza a few more times to see if it clicks in my head.

Cindy, it's about the travel. How one eventually gets to that hospital bed.

into a white gurney,
hospital chair,
to the mattress,

Happy you liked! Laurie