The Mercurial Minds of Medicine: A Poetry Collection
"Love of the Doctor: A Sonnet"
Piled dull cases– a thrill to save me!
I can’t show her my anticipation
But at last, I land a mastectomy!
She needs me… I sense her agitation
The scalpel smoothly slices the tissue
My hands save needy patients; they are my–
weapon, operating in sublime queue
Her despair is always in my mind’s eye
I scrape the weak cells; wry and cancerous
Her sighs were worried and contemplating
The finalized product is wonderous
I hope she doesn’t find her scars haunting
Flawless surgery. I am delighted.
She is saved. Again I am reminded.
Piled dull cases– a thrill to save me!
I can’t show her my anticipation
But at last, I land a mastectomy!
She needs me… I sense her agitation
The scalpel smoothly slices the tissue
My hands save needy patients; they are my–
weapon, operating in sublime queue
Her despair is always in my mind’s eye
I scrape the weak cells; wry and cancerous
Her sighs were worried and contemplating
The finalized product is wonderous
I hope she doesn’t find her scars haunting
Flawless surgery. I am delighted.
She is saved. Again I am reminded.
Rotting mattresses– filthier sheets
Seven in black, eclipse my being –doctors
This is but a trivial procedure– Trivial?
Veil her face– he ceases me of my humanity– nay, femininity
–He doesn’t want to frighten me
There is no anesthesia- I am frightened.
Hold the breast–
–Let me hold it
I faint– warning!
I am feeble.-
Seven in black, eclipse my being –doctors
This is but a trivial procedure– Trivial?
Veil her face– he ceases me of my humanity– nay, femininity
–He doesn’t want to frighten me
There is no anesthesia- I am frightened.
Hold the breast–
–Let me hold it
I faint– warning!
I am feeble.-
"Antihero. A Villanelle"
I am the shadow of the rotting body.
I pray to God– to take her soul
Everyone brings her flowers; but what about me?
She bleeds, she vomits, she screams. She is sorry.
The things I would do to be beside her, healthy and whole
I am the shadow of the rotting body.
Sorry isn’t enough, I miss my sanity
Resurrect my happy muse, my will to live and love, my gold
Everyone brings her flowers; but what about me?
Her smile for a second is my happiness for eternity
When will the flourishing girl retrieve the pretty capsule, when will she take control?
I am the shadow of the rotting body.
Leave her body untreated, let it die; bring her back or let her go
I fear my sanity and my wishes that I could never foresee
Everyone brings her flowers; but what about me?
I am but the gloomy silhouette, wishing death on an old cully
Flowers in sickness. Flowers in death. Flowers at gravestones, we throw.
I am the shadow of the rotting body.
Everyone brings her flowers; but what about me?