12 Hours, 10 Doors (language)

[forestfairybev]

"May I take your vitals please?"
"Are you feeling short of breath?"
"Which finger may I poke?"

Another 2nd shift hospital night
Turnaround of circadian rhythms and
10 creaky doors.

12 hours of
Wading through somnolent swamps
Of aching, shaking hands;
Waiting juice boxes and packages of saltines,
While dodging familiar stenches of excrement that
Lodge themselves in every vacant nostril.

Here is a place called home
For the most curious fusions
Of ennui and vigor;
Like every ride on public transit
Or fresh flowers in stale water.

Here the only observable constants
Are the reticent pleas of the people
To the vessels that carry them to
Just behave, g-d—mnit
(or god will it)
And I’m reminded of resignnent
To the agony of unrequited love.

I weep like it’s my heartbreak
When I receive the thank-you cards,
Silently protesting the distribution of gratitude
Because surely, re-acquainting me with
Humanity and humility nightly
Deserves more thanks
Than steering cold, metal walkers
Through old, sterile hallways.

*Revised.

[Mr D]

this is quite tragic.... vivid decadence ....was eating while reading this...good thing i can stomach pretty much anything as i used to write pretty sick gory stuff...
i like the honest feel in this while you paint an empathic portrait of a place near Styx .... i associate too much i know...but the speak seems like a tormented Charon that weeps in a boat that'll sink soon if nothing is changed...
gah....even while commented i rant...sorry...
D

[everhopeful]

Ah, this is a hard one to comment, but only for positive reasons. I normally try to comment on the poem, not the theme, but as someone with deep admiration and respect for those in the care industry the final stanza choked me a bit. I sometimes think we don't do enough for carers, we don't say thanks enough, so to see the speaker feel like the gratitude is unnecessary is deeply touching.
My feelings on the theme were undoubtedly intensified by the way you've written the poem, you've captured the scene with precision and poetic quality, plus a mix of direct observation and insight into the speaker's thought process, it's a fine combination.

[Spear_Sister]

Wow, intense feelings and language. Though the tone is very sombre I really enjoyed this. The scene was set so well and I can really feel the pain and the hardship felt, especially the closing 3 lines.
Loved the descriptive use of 'fresh flowers in stale water' it kind of set a tone for everything in my mind.
Thanks for the great read.

[flux]

I am at first struck by how this poem progresses, you start with the words, things and habits that are most familiar, open to all, the things done by rote, and then move on to more and more personal ground.

I agree with everhopeful, you capture the experience vividly, you are uncompromising and yet compassionate. This is a dose of real life made palatable by poetry. Very well written, and welcome to TPS.

[Ladywildalice]

Being a retired RN, and having been a Director of Nursing in a longterm care facility, this takes me to this
cataract-blurred hallways, being carried along the last and longest journeys of so many hearts relegated to memories and losses. It touched my heart so much and brought tears to my eyes. Oh for the days when the elderly, the infirm, the compromised, were cared for and kept at home, loved and honored, not cast off into gated and locked facilities to be cared for at the convenience of their families. Working in these places changes a person forever. Thank you for placing it on TPS. Congratulations on the Spotlight.

[dwells]

Nobody appreciates the night crawlers. This depiction was surreal and almost sensual in a bizarre way that draws a kinship to our shared humanity - so easily lost in the business at hand, the often thankless misery, and the helplessness of the revolving door for the sea of faces seeking comfort. Congratulations FFB and these insights and images were just superbly real!

[everhopeful]

This is such a striking poem. I think the issue is obviously an emotive one, I'm sure for many people, but it's a difficult one to handle in a poem without either over-romanticising the nature of the carer, or perhaps under-selling the more grim elements of the role. I think you found the middle ground in a way which didn't skimp on the unpleasant details, yet still shows the unique nature of a carer's role.
Congratulations on the spotlight!