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!
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.
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
She felt hollow, numb, used up.
The life she thought she had
Was ripped away in what felt like seconds.
Since he came home and finally told her the truth.
The truth was a long time coming.
She had not suspected, being concerned with grieving.
They had lost their three-year-old son to cancer last
Year; a battle they knew they were losing. A battle that
Took every ounce of her strength. They were lucky they
Had other children, or she would not have been able to
Survive that blow.
She had recently congratulated her husband’s receptionist
Who was sporting a knock-out diamond ring. Never dreaming
It was from her husband, who wrote a check without a backward
Glance, out of their joint account.
The woman did not have sense enough to be embarrassed, but she
Did want her man to straighten his wife out. The wife who had
Put the man through medical school, working two jobs. The wife
Who thought she had given him everything she had, but realized
After her son’s death that she had more, she just did not know it before.
She was hollow, numb, nothing left, after her husband straightened
Her out. He had taken her soul, leaving her a hollow shell of herself.
Wife had a knee replacement surgery.
Her medication has created problems for stool,
And some say when you are in medical school,
Also when withstanding,
Performance outstanding;
You will always learn how to control your cool.
Jim Horn
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!
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
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
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
"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.
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 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
I am in awe of my sisters
nieces
writers, poets, songwriters, musicians
physicians
so creative every way
sewing cooking writing publishing, diagnosing curing
moving the world in a better way
unafraid of a sewing machind or a rejection letter
they move on
medical school in her 30's
two pubished novels
designs stationary
designs baby clothes
writes, travels, performs her own songs
completely unafraid
throwing themselves
into their lives.