Best Doc Poems
~ SLAP the POET ~
First, you come to splat my baby SKAT!
Now I'm gonna give you a slap like this and that.
You call yourself, Doc the Poet & Notorious FLIRT.
OUCH! Doc, being you must really hurt.
Thank you for waking me from my cat nap.
Now it's time to bend you over my lap.
I will spank you like a kid for talking crap.
Teaching you a lesson that will make you snap.
I will slap my hand across your face.
For posting your Acrostic disgrace.
On my face was a smile that you post
With a look you'll never know
Doc, like a kid, you call them my towers.
Claiming my twins carry certain powers.
In a poem, Chris A. Once called them melons.
While my Hubby climbs and calls them Mount. SAINT Helene's.
Take some notes when you read this.
Don't talk about another mans double "D's" pillow kiss.
Don't make yourself out a poet fool.
Keep your cool and clean off your drool.
Don't end up like my Hubby who is lost in my abyss.
It's not my wits that got your dumb a$$ caught in reminisce.
~ SKAT ~
(Dedication)
(Dakarai Cobbs)
He's the one they call "Doc",
tending to those who need his care,
always putting others before himself,
whether in foreign land, sea or by air.
Here's his story, about the time he served,
and everyone needs to know,
Doc volunteered not once, not twice,
but three times to go.
Doc just finished his patrol,
and was headed back to base,
when he heard a loud explosion,
and his heart began to race.
Their humvee had hit an IED,
bomb fragments and glass filled the air,
seeing his fellow marines injured and dead,
was a sight he could not bear.
severely injured himself,
he crawled out of the rubble,
tending to those who needed him,
forgetting that he was also in trouble.
He saved many lives that day,
including his own,
he stayed by his Marines,
so they knew they were not alone.
He is now known as a hero,
and a left leg amputee,
but that hasn't stopped him,
from following his dreams.
He's an inspiration to us all,
a true leader in fact,
because even after his recovery,
he tried his hardest to go back.
His biggest fear was not of death,
or the enemies on the other side,
he feared if he wasn't there,
he couldn't save another life.
he's navy on paper, but a marine at heart,
and always will be,
we salute and thank you,
Semper Fi, Marine.
Doc,
Relax, slow,down, and enjoy life!
You're the only you, "you have" so be gentle.
Really notice what's right in front of you and enjoy deep within.
Sounds so relaxing the mind drifts gently in and out of sleep seemingly from dream to dream. Completely at peace, surrounded by beauty; a soft breeze gently blows past.
A smell so delightful it sends shivers through your body. A taste to your mind; your mouth waters as if eating a delicacy rich and pure!
Allow life's moments to become memories; treasure heartfelt friendship and love; follow your dreams and live in the moment. Life is too short; don't let it pass you by!
Doc, slow down, and enjoy life! Look and see what's right there, dream; they do come true, smell a rose or two; make more memories than you ever thought possible!
Doc, treasure you, "because I sure do".
Nurse!
Seems each time I visit my doc he recommends more pills for my health!
I'm not sure they're effective but this I know, they're depletin' my wealth!
And with all the side effects, I'm really concerned about my early doom!
"He expired from excessive medications!" might aptly be etched upon my tomb!
The list is endless - Diuretics, Beta Blockers, Nexium, Advil and Tylenol,
Alpha Blockers, Vitamin D, Zantac, Zocor, Micardis and a bit of Timolol,
Carisoprodol, Hydrocholorothiazide, Alphagan, Moltrin and Fosamax,
Hydroxyzine, Caltrate, Phillips Milk of Magnesia and some Atarax!
The black-box warnings say I could suffer everything from dehydration,
To blurred vision, dizziness, diahrea and a serious case of constipation!
My Pa seldom saw a doc and lived to the ripe old age of ninety-four!
He survived by sippin' SSS Blood Tonic and usin' horse linamint for
His aches and pains and other such stuff peddled by the Watkins Man!
I may toss the bottles and use his home-remedies to increase life's span!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
© All Rights Reserved
Welcome to the internet,
Where basic freedoms are embedded into the hard drives.
Where the memes help you through life.
Where Socially Awkward Penguin holds the door open too long, while Socially Awesome Penguin opens it for a lovely girl.
Where Scumbag Steve shows us the scumbag in all of us, and Good Guy Greg shows us our goodness.
The memes may describe the human actions, but not always the human thoughts.
Wordpress and blogger anger people, yet pushes them to protest.
Twitter, allowing little snippets from your brain escape, all in 140 characters or less of course.
Friendster, the hipsters’ domain of range.
Facebook being fought over by teenagers and adults since 2005.
YouTube, the keeper of memories, keeper of pain, keeper of anger, keeper of happiness, keeper of love.
Vevo, the music video enthusiasts’ devil, and God.
Welcome to the internet, It’s just a world fashioned by 0’s and 1’s that seems too real...
The loudmouth cowboy was challenged by an inebriated Doc Holiday.
"Draw your weapon sir," slurred the doc, "I'm your huckleberry."
"You're drunk as a skunk," said the cowboy, "probably seeing double too."
Mr Holiday responded, "Yes sir, that is very true,
but I have two guns,.. one for each of you."
Doc Holliday Bites the Dust
By Elton Camp
Doc Holliday’s depicted as a vicious killer
But his actual life was much less of a thriller
Not in the West, but in Georgia he was born
By a classical education his life did adorn
Among the areas where knowledge he did seek
Were grammar, math, history, Latin and Greek
Highly intelligent and certainly nobody’s fool
At just age twenty, he finished dental school
In Atlanta he then began to practice dentistry
But found, of his mother’s TB, he wasn’t free
On medical advice Holliday moved to the west
As its climate made his chances of living best
But at his dental profession Doc couldn’t stay
Since his constant cough drove patients away
It then became at gambling he earned living
An undeserved name as a gunman also giving
As far as from the historical record we can see
The number of men he shot was actually three
At age thirty-six, Doc Holliday died in bed
Living at a tuberculosis sanitarium, it is said
Bored out of my skull in my hospital bed
You’ll be here for Christmas, the consultant said
What happened next made me bubbly as Fanta
Two nurses came in, they were dressed up as Santa
My blood pressure took by a couple of flirts
With very long legs and very short skirts
One just bent over so it’s not surprising
The other one told me my blood pressure’s rising
You won’t need a Rabi, a priest or a vicar
Ain’t nothing wrong with this fella’s ticker
Its pounding away like Cozy Powell’s drums
You don’t expect nurses to have shapely bums
One licked her lips and... crikey, she’s winking
What a good job she don’t know what I’m thinking
Oh Lord, something’s happened just like I had feared
I really could do with a full knee length beard
There’s nothing gallant about what’s in my head
With them in their scanty gear, ermine and red
But I think they’ve guessed cos there ain’t no disguising
The sweat on my brow and my temperature rising
They sit on my bed and I smirk like I’m bolder
The next thing I feel is a hand on my shoulder
The Santas remain in the world of the sleepy
In this world there’s matron...
Not sexy
Just creepy
feral lotus focus
ferocious locus
hocus pocus proportions
bogus contortions
notions that are hopeless
clueless and helpless caution
careful not to touch my foolish Johnson
useless toothless rush of jarring jargon
ill gotten fruit rotten loot bargains
a fierce farce thrilling scar gardens
watered by the crying moon's nightly opus
meaty power ball bonus
eat on the hour in small doses
are you enjoying
the coldness of the soulless
the boldness of the boneless
fried chicken
rhymes fresh out the prison kitchen
master plans schemes to elude the system
hidden lyrical lemon lime missions
building beautiful babbling creations
my cruse
my sickness with no nurse
my fascination of profound
powerful philosophical verbalization
who dare demands demonstration
a little literary illuminating illustrations
painting marvelous monstrous
conscious concentrations
fainting over lust bitter kiss
patience to con a sin to fruition
too late the apple has been bitten
~ Clock punched, bloody scrubs,
"Leave your work AT work", they say ...
But I wear it home ~
A Psychiatric doctor poked and prodded in my head..
I was all screwed up, I think; he said…?
Was it because I claimed to see “purple elephants“?
Who amazingly did some acrobatic stunts?
The “doc” looked at me and shook his “mind”
I wasn’t listening, I was counting sticks; on the blinds..
He told me to lay down and all I heard was a “walkie talkie”
My mouth was racing before my brain, speaking jabberwocky.
The “doc” employed me to start a “wellness Plan”
On the ceiling; there were a hundred dots seemingly well spanned.
The “doc” read me the “itinerary” of this “technique” to apprehend...
I looked at him and my mind dawdled and couldn’t comprehend..
His “philanthropic” approach did not make me feel at ease..
I wanted to ride on the “purple elephants” and away I would leave!
The tick and the tock are never far asunder..
All the noises in the room sounding more like thunder….
“He” states now this hour is adjourned..
The dour doc pencils another “appointment” with the look of discern.
HOW I MANAGED not TO BE A DOC
You know something,
Me a thing, I think not worth than a farthing
was put in a college of Medicine.
Paternal honour intact was to be kept.
Heavy in heart and blurred in vision
When thought of those bespectacled sermons
On blood and urea, capillary and neuron.
I tugged at my mom, a deaf ear she gave.
Like a prep child, I crossed the day
For the doom to impend on my lovely day
On the calendar on the wall with landscapes gay.
Oh! All because my father loved me so.
On that day I stood on a rostrum
Feverish, next to a corpse bloated and grey
I was to say my name and greet the group.
But all I could choke out was a meek gibber.
I fell down with a thud,next to the corpse,
funny,all came running to the body lifeless,
for he was the specimen for one whole year.
The thing I knew next,
On my bed cozy I was
And I think I heard my father say,
Smiling,
‘Oh,It is all right my dear’!
There's a legion of doc-ologists to keep us on our feet.
A glance in the telephone book reveals a list complete!
Seems there's an "ologist" to care for us from head to wiggly toes,
Prodding, poking and dosing to ease our miserable woes!
Praise the Lord for geront-ologists who care for folks my age,
To ease our minds, hold our hands ushering us t'ward dotage!
Then there are the psych-ologists who meddle in our head.
The practice of the proct-ologists is better left unsaid!
The dermat-ologists who cleansed our faces of acne as a teen,
Now hassle us about slathering ourselves with sunscreen!
I'll never understand how anesthesi-ologists operate off hand,
But I know their potions ease the pain as we relax in la-la-land!
Gynec-ologists specialize in treating ladies' singular ills,
Including that vexatious time marked by hot flashes and icy chills!
Cardi-ologists are vital for keeping us alive and kicking,
Checking aortas and such to ensure our hearts keep ticking!
I'll coin the term "the-ologists" who deal with our languid souls,
Directing our thoughts upward beyond mere earthly goals!
Radi-ologists, ur-ologists, "other-ologists", I could go on ad infinitum.
Lastly, there are cosmet-ologists to pretty us up when we succumb!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(© All Rights Reserved)
Since moving to this burg we have a new Doc
Her name is sweet Kimberly, fresh out of the box
Brand spanking new
Love spanking, don't you
Whenever she examines, I never watch the clock
© Jack Ellison 2015
A beautiful nurse named Angelica
Is working at the medical center;
She looks very fine each and every day
With her uniform as she feels better.
A physician named Doctor Al Visa
Is wanting to court the lovely lady;
He knows that one of his technologists
Has got a crush on that nurse on duty.
One day the doctor sends the clever John
To the hospital branch in far-flung place;
The latter is sad and full of worries,
For he‘ll be out for seven working days.
Technologist John plans a strategy
To counter the aim of the slick surgeon;
The former is so terrified to lose
The heart of the nurse to dark oblivion.
So he buys seven apples as present
To the nurse without a doubt or delay;
To win her both hands the nice proverb says:
"An apple a day keeps the doc away".