Your Body
Your body lay on the table, wrapped in shrouds / while robed students gathered around, / Your body lay on the table, skin leathery and strong, / I imagined what stories it bore, what paths it traveled along.
Poetry Thursdays
Poetry Thursdays is our initiative to highlight poetry and prose by medical students, with a new post every Thursday. If you are interested in contributing or would like to learn more, please contact our editors.
Contributing Writer
Geisel School of Medicine
Amal is a writer and medical student at the Geisel School of Medicine at Dartmouth, class of 2024. She graduated from Wellesley College with a Bachelor of Arts in biochemistry and political science in 2017. Prior to medical school, she pursued a Thomas J. Watson Fellowship and a post-baccalaureate in biomedical ethics. Outside of class, you can usually find her writing, reading, baking, or adventuring in the outdoors.
Impact of a Cadaver
Gloves first, then scalpel blades gathered, / instructor books and an atlas. / What yearning and churning my mind feels, / unsure what learning to expect.
first death
After hours of struggle, noise, / knife and clamp and lung flapping wetly / like a broken bird wing in an open chest, / there is this part, the dismantling.
first code
“We kept him alive to let his family say goodbye, / and sometimes that’s the biggest victory.”
Two Beds
Motionless, a man awakes from his stupor of heart. Relief from sharpness, the pooling and swelling.
The Streets of Sarajevo
Red blood flows, red lights flash, / Down the streets of Sarajevo. / I wonder which will win today: / Hermes’ staff or Ares’ spear?
Stomach
The burning taste / of acid in the throat / is a warning.
Sutures and Stones
Superficial to deep, deep to superficial, / 90 degrees, in and out, / Not too deep, filled with doubt.
A More Perfect Union
Who am I to say that I am an artist? / Itʼs the wanting / the need to express…
Just Keep Pushing: Conversations with the Woman in the Mirror
You already started / your medical school journey / non-traditionally. / Just keep pushing
loser
You lose / your pen with / the red and blue and black ink
6 y/o F: Patient Perspective of Illness
mom, what’s loo-skeem-ya? / oh okay — does that mean I’m loo-skeem-ya?
Contributing Writer
Stanford University School of Medicine
Vivian is a second year medical student at Stanford University School of Medicine in Stanford, CA Class of 2022. In 2017, she graduated from Stanford with a Bachelor of Arts in human biology with a concentration in global health and development. She then pursued a Fulbright in Uganda working on maternal and child health. She enjoys swing dancing, writing, and creating music in her free time. In the future, Vivian would like to pursue a career in psychiatry.