Best Doctor Poems
our beloved brother from India
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
board his magic carpet
woven with wit, intellect and insight
soar through sagas steeped in mythology
captivating revelations on cultural tradition
unique perspectives on historical events
clever concepts conveyed with humor
psychology, philosophy, behavior observations
materialize as “Mehtaisms”
stirring the soup
adding spice to the broth
supporting work of members new and old
our international melting pot
enriched by the work of a Literary Doctor
salute a special sage who graces us with gifts
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
* Dedicated to Dr. Ram Mehta in honor of Joe Maverick’s “Better than Gold” contest
My mother thinks I'm a doctor
I just don't have the guts
To tell her I spent all my college doe
On beer, wine, women and such
So after I faked my graduation
Said I was moving to the South
To help the less fortunate among us
Another lie I let slip out
I'm now in the south of Florida
Where some may call me a bum
Living in a citrus grove along the coast
Not answering to anyone
It's really not such a bad life
This do nothing life I've made
I hear my Moms proud of me at afternoon tea
Telling the girls of all the lives I save
I do my share of dumpster diving
That's where I got the idea
Behind a real doctors office one day
With some of their stationary I nabbed
I did a little doctoring
After all I do play one in Moms mind
Doesn't look to lame where I inserted my name
Then wrote my Mom about the kids and the wife
I've created such an elaborate charade
It's now gotten all out of hand
As I panhandle my way up and down
The Sunshine states surf and sand
Mom now says she wants to visit
Can't wait to meet the wife and kids
Don't know how I let it get this crazy
And how it all lead up to this
Now I'm scrambling to find a vacant house and a woman
With a couple of kids that look just like me
That can go along with a ruse for a week in mid-June
Since I told her that's when I'd be free
I'm thinking I should of studied in college
Instead of being this mind numbing huckster
Telling lie after deepening lie
Just so my Mother would think I'm a doctor
An apple every day, he said to me.
Berries too, for your recovery.
Can I have just one small slice of pie?
Doctor nearly glared into my eye!
Even nuts and cheese you must not eat.
For Heaven's Sake, Doctor, I need a treat!
Good food should not be processed, white or fried.
How about some egg whites on the side?
(I was being snide because it's no
Joke that yolk is always good to go!)
Knowing I should lay off yummy things
Like burgers, chocolate, and pizza brings
Me such great angst! Everybody knows
No vegetables compare to fried potatoes!
On Thanksgiving, I will do some cheating.
Popcorn (hot-air popped) I will be eating!
Sept. 10, 2016 For the Alphabet Soup PoetryContest of Kim Merryman
In the office, he smiles so charmingly.
Saying and doing all the right things,
he puts all his female patients completely at ease.
Even the women hard to please return to him,
for he is famous for his bedside manner.
He surrounds himself with a staff of beautiful nurses
who rush eagerly to his aid when he needs them.
Each of them, whether single or not,
imagines herself with him and how it would be
to be alone with him, aboard his fancy yacht
submerged in the mesmerizing gaze
of his warm hazel eyes.
In the evening he goes home to his wife,
a lovely though docile woman, fragile like a flower.
Immediately on seeing her, he starts in
with his usual barrage of complaints,
belittling her and poking fun at her homemaking skills,
the dinners she has waiting for him, her style of dress,
and every minor physical flaw she might possess.
She accepts it all with her pretty blonde head bowed
like that of a wilted lily,
for she knows that to oppose him
will only result in a more tangible type of abuse,
and he is always careful when he hurts her.
Doctor that he is, he knows well to leave no marks.
She retires quietly to bed,
worried little about any sexual advances toward her.
Although she longs for the touch of a man,
she is grateful to be left alone by her spouse.
Meanwhile, with liquor in hand,
he’s gone into the den, shutting the door behind himself.
Logged on as Mr. Hyde at his favorite website,
he peruses the myriads of Adonises available,
peering salaciously at each nude explicit photo
with wide hungry hazel eyes taking in every little detail
as he plans his next big adventure out of town
and fantasizes trysts on his fancy private yacht
with the sexiest of the men that he can solicit.
posted 2/21/12
Submitted 9/23/22 For One From The Dark Side Poetry Contest
Sponsor: John Lawless
A poet cannot always be understood,
but those that can reach us are better than good.
There’s one at the Soup for both young and old.
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold.
One poet I like who writes in this way
is very unique, and that’s why I say
when God made this man, he sure broke the mold!
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold.
So whether in rhyme, in free verse or haiku;
in senryu, sijo, or in dodoitsu,
the good doctor rocks it, and so you’ve been told!
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold.
some people leave riches to their heirs
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
everyone privileged to read his work
unlocks his treasure trove
written words worth their weight in bullion
fame stems from his mighty quill
insightful behavioral revelations
laced with myths from many lands
astonishing analogies
superlative metaphoric value
boundless wisdom unfolds
priceless is his legacy
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
Written for Joe Maverick’s Better than Gold contest and dedicated to Dr. Ram Mehta.
An apple a day, so they say,
But some folk get carried away.
Consumer advice:
Don’t be imprecise—
Eat ten, and the doctor you’ll pay.
---
Date Written: January 9, 2019
Contest: Limerick II, sponsored by Joseph May
“Doctor I have chronic diarrhoea
And I think it’s hereditary”
“Nonsense man I can assure you
Diarrhoea is not hereditary,
And no matter how chronic it is
It’s not as bad as it seems”
“But doctor I know it’s hereditary
Because it’s in my jeans”
Form:
So, how long have you been waiting? No, it doesn't really matter!
I just came in the game to quiet the chit chatter.
And now that I am here, where should I start?
First, I'll examine your head, and then I'll examine your heart.
Did you really think that you had the skill to beat me.
Like a student to a teacher, you should be happy to meet me.
Just be happy to greet me, and get ready to get taught.
My assistance should be sought, for those weak rhymes that you brought.
In my medical opinion, you can not pass this test.
I am the best, and I would hate to have to open up your chest.
But, be my guest! R.E.D must mean Really Envies Destroyer,
But I'll take care of that, as soon as Nate the GREAT can Deploy her.
Maybe R.E.D means Really Easily Done
Your defeat will be so fun, since I am second to none.
I know! R.E.D means Reaches Eventual Destruction!
I already started keeping score, and you just got your first deduction.
But, once I destroy you, I will help you get better.
You must follow my instructions, right down to the letter.
My first prescription is called "get a little back-bone!"
Out of this battle, you will be gone, unless you can change your tone.
No battle is ever won before the first word is thrown.
I don't care who I battle! In the end, I will stand alone!
My second prescription is called "get a little more skill!"
Your wounds will soon heal, but come again and you will get killed.
Practice makes perfect, so you might just want to chill,
Because this DOCtor does not come cheap. Can you afford my bill?
My third prescription is a good one called "get a little smarts!"
Or, get carried away on a cart, if you can not play your part.
When I begin throwing darts, I am aiming for your heart.
So, decide if you got what it takes, before you start.
Get these prescriptions filled, then see me in a week,
And, remember, they are good for the healing that you seek.
A physician can possibly maim.
Being ill-informed, one that I blame
Cares not for real knowledge
Despite years of college.
“Erroneous” should be his last name.
Jan. 11, 2019 for Joseph May's 'Limerick II' Contest Info
Oh, don’t abandon us now!
We so love your masked fear.
Tell us, Dr Fauci, my dear.
What shall I do, Holy Cow?
Should I check my cat’s rear?
Is there Omicron in my ale or beer?
I fret over eating meat from a sow!
Shall I go check my skin in a mirror?
We need you, who makes thing, clearer!
We might have to go to work?
Oh, no, a fate worse than death!
To smell real human breath?
Of boosters and lockdowns we cheer!
Of Meta and Twitter we merrily sing.
The COVID national anthem is our thing!
8/24/2022
~1~
Face for fading music
Disappearing in the distant
Those that stood still
Were called forth by the mystic
To answer a question
To answer the inquisition
For this was not the path
That they had been thinking
The witch doctor stood fast
His crazy eye twitching
He spoke slow...
"Your path... You will be switching!"
Batting his lashes
His vibes bellowed long
Their initial reactions:
Over looked and over drawn
With a wave of his hand
His visions showed real
Finally their eyes opened
Now looking to deal
The shaman then laughed
And threw up his arms
The skies began spinning
Bringing down the stars
The chosen few looked all around
And before long at each other
Awe lost in disbelief
One right after another
While the mystic's laughs grew hysterical
The rest fell to their knees
For no one knew the awful truth
Behind what the witch doctor sees
I cradle and rock him,
He's so fragile a thing in my arms,
So perfect, so innocent,
So unlike his mother.
His mother was broken and wicked,
A being rotten from within,
But I had loved her still.
It was foolish, I know,
But is that not what love entails,
Accepting someone for who they are?
She likened herself to a grey petaled rose once,
Sere and dying.
He'd likened her to a little candle,
Hidden beneath a bushel.
She called her life a colorless canvassed painting,
With him only as red.
When she saw only lifeless skies and muted chaos,
And her sanity danced away;
To some silent unheard rock music,
He fastened to her hand and danced with her,
Till the music turned gentle,
And it's tempo slow.
I had known she wouldn't stay for me,
Believing otherwise would be naive.
I had thought she would stay for him;
Our little boy,
Thought she could lock away those parts of herself,
That part of her mind that played terrible scenes;
Of still bloody rivers,
And terrific demons,
And scattered husks of men;
All in haunting recaps,
That compelled her to recreate such destruction.
She did not think she was worthy,
To look upon a thing so perfect and innocent,
And call her own.
She was broken and wicked,
And she was rotten from within,
But she knew in her black shriveled beating-box,
That he would take care of him,
Like he had done for her,
As her healer and her friend,
Though he was not his own.
So she'll close her eyes for just a little while,
For she believed all will be well,
And she hoped to go where there was silence,
Flawless emptiness.
It would be beautiful to her if death were like that.
She'll love them both still,
In that world of total blankness,
And isn't that what love is about,
Letting someone go when you know you're not right for them?
There's nothing we can do, the doctor said!
It was December, nineteen-seventy.
At once, those words exploded in my head
and pierced my heart- which broke in agony.
How could this be- she's much too young to die
at fifty-four, and I, just thirty-two?
Convulsed in tears, I begged the question, why-
please, doctor, tell me, please- this is not true!
To lymph nodes, bones- the killer-cancer crept-
too late for surgery or chemo now.
The doctor's sad, dark eyes said, please accept
this news I give- which we can't disavow.
She passed away late summer, the next year;
those long nine months- such painful reveries.
Though, forty-nine years now- I still hold dear
my loved, missed Mom- in dusty memories.
July 31, 2020
Contest: Dusty Old Memories
Sponsor: Constance La France
Some fellas and some gals are just plumb mean
and sadly some are deranged and some scream.
Seems like a certain syndrome
is screwin’ with your genomes
and sure would explain that mutant dumb gene!
Written: March 2025