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all fours

by Peter Humphreys

lying flat in a hospital bed
wired up plumbed in
every lead and cavity occupied
the world seems made of fours

the corners of the bed
the square meals
the corners of the ceiling
the number of patients

eavesdropping on conversations
I could not see
hearing neighbours
I had yet to meet

listening but unheard
hearing but unseen
our time passed by others
we are though

awake
anxious
aware
aching

battered
bruised
bewildered
by
cold
comfort
caring
caresses

dismally
dreary
dreading
dying

empty evening
early ending

forlorn
fearful
forsaken faces

glowing glimmers
gleaming gladly

heart held hands
hoping

inner instincts
innately indeterminate

joyfully joining
jostling jesting

kindred
keen
kindnesses
kindle

living love
loving life

may mercy meet me
now
no
not never

overwhelmingly opening
overwhelming openness

patient
pious
piteous
peace

quietly questioning
quiescent
quick

refreshing
remembering
romance riven

silence seeking
solitude subtly

tender
tolerant
tearful
touching

voluptuous
vibrant
vivacious
venal

why
wondering
why
why

x x x x

yes
yearning
yes
yes

Zion

are we all voting
for Zion
or are we simply
on the road to nowhere

12/15/2007

Author's Note: There is something life changing about time in a room where some of the patients will return only for a final time. It felt like being in a card game without knowing the deck. We were all on all fours, on our hands and knees before the Unknown. It reminded me of Israel Metter's bleak masterpiece, The Fifth Corner of the Room. As it happened, three of us survived.

Posted on 12/15/2007
Copyright © 2024 Peter Humphreys

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Maria Massarella on 12/15/07 at 01:26 AM

How well you bridge the poem of the beginning to the open poem that is the closure ... and all that's in between is revealed by the senses that capture and record the present to what of yesterday's inner surfaces ... Excuse my ineloquence on wording what this poem awakens and stirs... yet I feel it intensely ... and know what it is to be in such a bed, inside such thoughts ... as I know what it is to walk into the room and gather eye-fulls of such vibes and thoughts when I visit 'the room where some of the patients will return only for a final time'... Grazie for sharing this, Peter... this write that communicates beyond words.

Posted by George Hoerner on 12/15/07 at 02:39 AM

You have a mastery of the alphabet and words that strike fear into many. I recall bright twice, shining in my eyes. But never felt a fear. Maybe ignorance became manifest in me. I survived. But your write carries me back to a time when I wasn't sure. Great write! Much feeling.

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