Best Medical School Poems


Seven Dwarfs

~Seven Dwarfs~  (limerick sequence)*

There once was a dwarf named Doc,
Who saw patients around the clock.
He hadn’t gone to medical school,
Yet his patients he could easily fool,
For his meds were always chalk.

There once was a dwarf named Sleepy,
Whose wife was extremely weepy.
She wanted to travel
But couldn’t unravel
His hair from the bed canopy.

There once was a dwarf named Happy,
Who ate only fudge and taffy.
His tummy got big.
He looked like a pig.
So he switched to chocolate frappé.

There once was a dwarf named Bashful,
Who’s wallet was always cash full.
Too timid to spend
For fear he’d offend
The peons whose homes were trash full.

There once was a dwarf named Dopey,
Who’s mind was mightily mopey.
His speech was so slow
His belle didn’t know
That he wanted to elopey.

There once was a dwarf named Grumpy,
Who became a little rumpy.
He ran ten miles a day,
But much to his dismay,
His butt just became real lumpy.

There once was a dwarf named Sneezy,
Whose allergies made him wheezey.
He wanted to play the romantic lead,
But instead did the voice of a dying steed,
In a film by Martin Scorsese.

*the real ending to "Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs"

A Stifled Cry

"It was a mistake", she said. 
A tiny life swiped in seconds as 
gods creation is rendered a 
mere cluster of cells. 
Returned back to heaven 
hoping the return policy 
wouldn't deny. 
It was a mistake; a stifled cry

A lifetime of progress, 
innovation, and memories down 
the drain.
The notorious "what if" 
squashed with plan b; no hopes 
of a future. 
A stifled cry 

She could have cured cancer or 
delivered world peace. 
She could've fed the hungry 
and housed the poor. 
She could've been a Honors 
Harvard medical school 
graduate and your pride and 
joy.
None are the magical christmas 
mornings, first days of school, 
or birthdays. 
Terminated are the memorable 
first steps and momentous  
coos calling for "mamma". 
No more possibilities. Now a 
stifled cry. 

"It was a mistake", she said. 
A moment of carelessness and 
selfishness translates into a life 
lost. 
Permanent. 
Sent back into the arms of god. 
An easy way out. A stifled cry.
© Alx Brk  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Pressure

It’s May 18th, 2022. I’m poised, alone, heart pounding, in front of my laptop, waiting for courage, my finger hovering over the return key, like a child hoping the timing of my keystroke will bring me luck.

I took this summer off - which drove my mom absolutely CrAzY. “You CAN’T!” she’d said last month, only to be overruled by my Grandmère. Now I’m home for summer break and tonight she’s flush with exasperation. 

“You should have applied for a dean’s fellowship,” she said, her voice rising as she rubs her hands together, as if scrubbing for an operating room procedure, “and a summer research position!” She’s practically twirling with suppressed emotion.

I get why she’s upset. She only goes “deep end” when she's worried about my future. She knows what’s needed to get a medical school slot in 2025 like other moms know their favorite recipe - after all, she’s done this twice before. 

Leong’s upstairs, avoiding this family scene. When I described my family expectations as “hustle culture,” to my roommates, they all understood - we’re that much alike.

Step (my stepfather) is trying to de-escalate and calm us (her) down. “Look,” he says, holding up his hands like someone talking down a gunman, “NEXT summer she’ll buckle down, get in more volunteer hours and get a dean’s research fellowship” he says, sliding his eyes to me. I nod “ok” almost imperceptibly. “It’s ok to start grinding sophomore year - that’s what I did.” 

OOOO! She turned to him and if looks could kill, he would have exploded like someone in a Tarantino movie. 

By some psychic grace my Grandmère chose that moment to call. Step and I fled the den like it were on fire, going our separate ways to halve the chance of being followed.

In my dark room, lit only by the light of my MacBook, a quiver runs through me, and I finally press return. My grades for Spring semester - and Freshman year come up. My eyes water and I relax back against my chair when I see “Dean's List.” 

I smile to myself, and slowly, fiercely I clench my fist with a “YESS!" As I postulate my victorious reprieve.


Battered Shattered and Scattered

Mrs Gladys Wackjob:
“What the goodness is wrong with this hospital,
I receive better service in a restaurant.
You nurses sit there doing nothing while my
Husband is dying. Why isn’t anyone talking to me.
And you little miss perky nurse, Yes you,
With the 80’s hair style. Are you actually old enough
To be a nurse. What the heck is going on..”

Nurse Rachel:
“I worked very hard at Medical School I gave up
everything. I didn’t have a social life. Yes I am old enough to be nurse.
We are doing everything we can but your husband
is very ill. Instead of yelling at me you might go and hold his hand.

Mr Jason Rightbrain,
“What is this crap. I ordered  eggplant parmesiana.
This looks like cow manure. If I want to throw up I would
eat my x-wife’s crap. What is wrong with this place.
Are you really a Chef or just grabbing boxes from the
supermarket and heating them in the microwave.
I can’t believe this. And you think I’m going to pay
for this rubbish.
Chef Greg.
I gave up a good job working in accounting for this.
I loved the idea of serving people food. Three years
at College and I tried so hard. I think I’ll give up now.
Mrs Jane Wiseacre,
Are you Mrs  Watson my daughter’s Teacher. This report says
my little Felicity is an underachiever. What on God’s green Earth
does that mean?  I help her with her homework.
She wanted to go to ballet. No No No Not on my watch.
She works harder than any of these loser kids why isn’t
she doing well at school. Are you even a real teacher you look like
a waitress.
Janine Watson:
I tried my best with Felicity. I gave her extra attention
but sometimes you just can’t reach some kids. 
They have shut off from the world. I can’t imagined why.
 I have to go for a long walk now.

Premium Member Alma Mater Ii

Accepted to medical school
Too old but in the entrance pool
Where is the back door? 
There's my dorm with a drawer 
Since I’m a cadaver quite cool

The One Who Finished Last In His Class

The One Who Finished Last in His Class

By Elton Camp

Not all teachers have equal smarts & skill
And a less able lawyer sure gives no thrill

There are found some West Point cadets
Whose graduation the academy so regrets

And the accountant who eked his degree
From him a large number of errors you see

There’s the last-place structural engineer
To cross his bridge there’s reason to fear

The almost failed pharmacist often will
Dispense to the patient a mistaken pill

The worst graduate of the beauty school
Won’t give very good hairdos as a rule

And the chiropractor who barely got by
Won’t know the right adjustment to try

The business school grad at end of the line
Won’t produce work that will be very fine

And with a medical school it’s just the same
Yet, last-place finisher, it’s doctor we name
© Elton Camp  Create an image from this poem.


Premium Member Golden Days

Golden days





Reminisce those golden days left far behind,
little joys lived to most, recalls the mind,
Aiming sky high and free as birds,
Cherished life, simple were our words,

Childhood friend at primary school,
Waited daily for me but I was such a fool,
One reserved seat for me always next to him, 
Ignored the passion till it flowed to brim, 

Teased others as together we grew,
Till medical school, left were only few,
Hostel life was more of a fun,
Witty siblings added to real time pun,

Affection of parents in family of five,
Pretty house, floral garden, fruits and beehive,
Bright sunrise to twilight of sunset,
No hues were missing in my palette,

Delicacies that my mom cooked,
Anyone who ate got really hooked,
Carom, cards and chess that my dad laid,
Losers tried till years and decades,

Reminisce those golden days left far behind,
Little joys now unseen, have I turned blind ?





Written April 2nd, 2015
For contest "Golden days" by rob carmack

Awarded 9th place

Log Cabin

She grew up in a log cabin
 on the top of a mountain
 over looking a river in the valley
 With flowers on both sides growing

 That time has come and past
 But the memories still persist
 of her childhood of growing up 
 out here In the green lust forest

 She lived with her father
 who taught her all about life
 and she still remembers her mother
 Who died when she was just five?

 her father become both parents to her
 taking care of his only little girl
 leading her to the right path to take
 to be a success in the world

 He send her to school then collage
 and she graduate top of her class
 Today she’s a heart surgeon
 Performing a Coronary bypass 

 She married a wonderful guy
 She met in medical school
 He fainted when he saw blood
 She smiles but though he was cool

 They go to the log cabin
 for vacation every year
 And she tells her children 
 of her childhood growing up there

 Every one of us
 Will always go back in time
 To the childhood we that had
 And relive every minute it in our mind

 Just take a minute to remember
 And I bet you will smile
 Thinking of so many fun things
 You did when you was a child

 Growing up in Trinidad was so much fun
 With my brothers and parents 
 An for Christmas my grandmother
 Would buy us so much presents

 I Will always think of my childhood 
 of the many years spend in my home
 And in marabella, la romain, and Indian trail
 Where my memories will always roam

 She finishes setting the table
 As the fire place starts to light
 They are having dinner with her father
 In the log cabin tonight

Past Time

I am ten and crossing home.
Two players missed it, as it rolls on and on.
An error if you're scoring the play,
but I call it a home run on my first day.
I am ten, and I have found my first love
in a tattered ball, and a hand-me-down glove.

I am twenty, and I am throwing hard.
Beading sweat, please stay in the yard!
Each pitch thrown with a hope and a prayer.
Scholarship athletes can't be only fair.
Medical school looms larger than the Show.
A privilege for few, but I don't want to go.

I am thirty and I cannot put it down.
Sundays the old men come around.
Love of the game a common bond.
The bat is no longer a magic wand.
Reminiscing about those bygone days.
I can no longer beat out those close plays.

I am forty, and I watch with delight.
My own boys throwing with all their might.
A lump in my throat, a moist eye.
I contentedly look on and sigh.
I've passed down the love to the next generation,
and I wouldn't trade that for a standing ovation.

The Turkey Surgeon

I get this job every year
I have never been to medical school and I am just a lowly nurse
Yet it seems that every year my family hands me the electric scalpels and puts me to work
I surgically slice and dice ole Turkey Lurkey
Once he comes out of the oven he begins to get that nervous look upon his face

"I wonder how she will approach me this year?
Will it be the prone presentation or supine? 
One year we ordered Cornish hens and it was sublime!
No carving required!"

This year I have a new blade and it is revved up and rearing to go
First I delicately removed his thighs and cut perpendicular through his breast
His gizzards were harvested at the beginning of the surgery all neatly tucked away in a nice little baggy
After Turkey Lurkey’s flesh was neatly arranged on the tray 
I took the remaining juices and basted him one more time
Lean and tender and just on time
He arrived to the table straight from the O.R.
Happy Thanksgiving from my surgical suite to yours!

Sincerely,
The Turkey Surgeon,
Gwendolen Rix

This is my official Thanksgiving Day poem!
11-27-14

Premium Member Unending Love

I graduated with honors at medical school,
And wished to settle in my own tradition
No frivolous girl deserved to be my wife, life’s cruel,
 I wanted the best that was my ambition.

It was always a desire that my love will be unending,
So that when I give my heart it will be completely
A character that despite all, ‘twill be so befriending
A pleasing lass that can only show her love so sweetly.

In this restless world marred by heretic modernism
True love that I always wanted, is oft ended before it began
No one of those I met cares about reciprocal altruism
Life on the campus took the semblance of a game plan.

So when I’ll finally meet my true and only love
It must, like it or not, be something enduring for ever.
I have to find an endearing cooing caring dove
A lasting marriage success will be our endeavor.

I met her on a small hill where she fell upon the moss,
Together we hobbled to an inn where care was tended.
It was love at first sight and my proposal I put across,
We talked and ideas exchanged, all was truly splendid.

Thus I decided that she was to be my dearest wife,
Had she but refused, would have been the end of my life.

Anxiety

I Sink into a river 
Of stress
And anxiety
What if I don't graduate?
What if I don't get into medical school?
Questions swirl in my mind
As other people look 
And wonder 
Why are you stressed?
Your life is not that hard
Just because I am 19 
Does not mean I don't have stress
Does not mean that things can be hard for me
Each day its like another a rope is 
Attaching to my leg
pulling me further 
Into the river
Making it harder to breathe and
to live my life
I hate anxiety

Take Two and Call Me In the Morning

You go eight years to medical school
To learn to cure our ills,
But it seems the only thing you learn
Is how to prescribe pills.

A little pill for this disease,
A little pill for that.
A pill to make you skinny,
Or a pill that makes you fat.

A pill to stop your migraine
When it feels your head will break.
A pill to make you sleepy,
Or a pill to stay awake.

For every pill you give me
There's at least one side effect.
You keep prescribing on and on
Until my body's wrecked.

I do not want a life of pills.
I hope you find a cure.
But you're Big Pharma's drug rep;
Of that I'm very sure.

You need us to keep coming back,
Gents, and kids, and ladies,
So the money will keep flowing in
To pay for your Mercedes.

Now, let's get back to basics
And cure our problems, please,
Or I will find a new Doc, and
He's going to be CHINESE!
© Rich Reitz  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Having a Medical School Image

It is in the air 
Maybe the chair 
Giving everyone a health care scare 
And that is not fair 
Added to having the homework done 
And recess fun 
Wearing a mask 
Is the law abiding marketed task 
Saying this will solve the problem 
Scripted “We got them” 
Ending the virus infection 
As a prescription protection 
Face covering does have an angry sight
Uncomfortable and tight
Frightful with might  
Trying to breathe 
Taking away human expressions to see 
Trust needs to come on board 
To win the invisible contagious war 
By showing the door 
Defeating controlling factors looking for a power play score 
This is a choice 
Made behind the godly surgical hidden voice 
“I see your man date 
And raise you ‘after Election Day get things straight’” 
This is a concern 
Distractions in the environment where students learn 
Both book smarts 
And social starts 
Memorizing everything by heart 
In order to be ready in playing a part 
In this debatable plot 
Dumped on those wanting a shot 
Know the setting 
Before betting 
Taking the mask off 
And getting a life threatening cough 
From the smoke 
That the Marlboro cowboy stoked 
And the entertainers puffed while telling a joke 
Sipping on something added to their coca coke 
Wearing a mask is not a way to conform 
Instead it’s a peaceful way during a storm 
To call the house 
Squeaky as a mouse 
“I hope you have a better hand 
In this political party stand 
Or a new generation will win the pot voting ‘you are canned’”

Letter To My Hater

Written by: Rodgers Ja Brown

Why you gassing dawg
Why you coming to my table without asking dawg
I know you hate me with a passion I ain't mad at y'all
Jealous and envy shall follow you
You stuck on my name tryna f*ck with it 
But I'm a big number you ain't in my league

I know you f*ck with every classic in my catalog
And it go worth your business team think it's lootlove
Cashtime with my team I'm a big Fish
Money is a big thing I'm focused on

I don't need a green screen when I pull stunts
Cause when you the real thing niggas get touched
And it's Super unlocked 
I don't give a f*ck about your number one spot

Corporate's sleeping on me need to set alarm clocks
Word to all workmates crossing my network guap
Big dreams since I was a little boy
I'm stressed, went to the medical school and dropped out
Middle finger to the press

Tried to give a f*ck but I ain't got a f*ck left
I'm blessed
Tried to be civil until I saw your Instagram page
But I was out on leave paving a road for bigger things
See when it rains it pours. I think we all need change 
I show real love and respect to the real ones!

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