NightWake (poem) by Jerry W. Engler on AuthorsDen

NightWake
by Jerry W. Engler → (All Poetry by Jerry W. Engler)
Rated "G" by the Author.

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The poem's description most likely will suffice.
3 a.m., 10^th floor, Looking out the 4 x 10 window, 12 inches of snow bright under tall buildings, the lights above thousands of houses, 4 and 6-lane freeways, the back streets of homes and business, back from the depths of machines the lights of tubes and overheads, the nurses and labs, my God, my God, my God, lying awake, staring out, blinking in wonder, sight coming back to the damaged eye, my dearest Lord Jesus, what is to happen? Where is the life In this? No sleep, Only blinking, the promise of wires to install down to the heart, the assurance of hurt, no sleep, blinking, twisting, churning, the lonliness, the trembling to the soul. No sleep, no sleep, no sleep, did I blink, or was that sleep? The stars appear, although bright, cold, crisp, brittle, 6 a.m., they come, carefully kept uniforms, they smile, murmer, time for more tests, the padded steel gurney, down the floors into the abyss, more blood, more machines, my God, my God, my God.

Reviewed by Felix Perry

Reviewed on May 28, 2012

This realistic poetry brought me back into my own nest of memories of hospitals and operations and a cold shiver ran down my spine...hope you are well my friend.
fee

Reviewed by Andy Turner

Reviewed on April 20, 2012

Felt like being punched in the face, such is the power of your description.

Best of health!

Reviewed by Cryssa C

Reviewed on April 16, 2012

I have spent too many nights in similar states, with similar views... for different reasons. :) I hope and pray that your coming days and weeks are filled with peace and health.

Always a pleasure to see you posting, and despite the topic which gave me a sharp intake of breath, your words never disappoint with the poignant pictures you paint... making this all too real.
Cryssa

Reviewed by Ronald Hull

Reviewed on April 14, 2012

I call it the Horror of the hospital. Got me in the gut.

Ron

Reviewed by Diana Legun (Reader)

These lines deliver the smell of hospital disinfectant and medicine, nurses' lounge coffee with cream and sugar, but not for you... shiney floors of a place no one likes to see, the sweaty palms of dread and unknown, the unnaturalness of it all. Disconnection from all else, it is full of wrench and and wretch and scarlet fear. All that is in here. Yell. ~~ Diana

Reviewed by John Flanagan

Reviewed on April 13, 2012

Jerry,
it's such a relief to see you writing
again after all you've been through;
i'm still waiting for that email you owe me, lol!

stay strong, my friend,

john

Reviewed by Gianetta Ellis (Reader)

You take us there. Uncomfortably there. It's stark and sterile - an atmosphere that brings turmoil to the mind but promises bodily restoration, at least that's the theory. You are, as always, adept. Your words are your (and our) best medicine.

Reviewed by Regis Auffray

Truly a grippingly real account, Jerry; I feel the pain both physical and mental. Thank you for sharing. Love, peace, and best wishes to you,

Regis

Reviewed by Jean Pike

So wonderful to see you posting, Jerry. This one is so very real. Short and sharp, you have said it all. One of your best ever.

Reviewed by JASMIN HORST SEILER

Jerry, you see quite clearly with limited vision, it must be hell, you already paid for you sins with this stay, not saying you had any, but suppose if, so from here it can only be upward, great poetry as always even with all these bolds in your head, keep on writing, hugs! Jasmin Horst

Reviewed by Lois Christensen

Hope you aren't going through this at all right now. But good description of what happens. you don't really get sleep much in a hospital setting.

Reviewed by Angela Ciero

Good writing. It really brings the feeling of sitting in a hospital to life.