As a Phoenix
Dead eschars are excised. / Skin grafts grow like flowers / Repotted for new life.
Tag: 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
UT Houston/McGovern Medical School
James is a third year medical student at UT Houston/McGovern Medical School in Houston, TX. In 2019, he graduated with honors from The University of Texas at Austin with a degree in biomedical engineering and a certificate in Core Texts & Ideas. He enjoys running, video games, and exploring coffee shops and museums in his free time. After graduating medical school, James would like to pursue a career in pediatrics or child psychiatry.
Grandpapa’s Gift
Grandpapa had a gift for storytelling. / Sitting on the two-legged stools at the end of the Hutong,
Gynecologic Oncology Surgeons: Normal-Sized Giants
Bleary-eyed, / Surgical cap awry, / I follow in a single file line.
His Last, First Breath
As I unzip the synthetic shroud, / he breathes his last, first breath: / one final exhalation from the plastic pleura / before we make acquaintance.
Intubate
Medical student, why don’t you intubate? / The OR is safe, it’ll go great.
Shortcomings of a Sanctuary
In the hospital lobby, three police officers / surrounded a woman in an oversized, white T-shirt, / sitting in a corner chair that nearly swallowed her whole, / enveloping her in its dull, floral pattern.
Death Is No Crime
Why — why did you die? / Your soul took to the sky / without a conscious goodbye
My Reflection (and Infinitely Beyond)
The quaternary code, the winding staircase / of you, incommensurate in its beauty.
Escape
The child’s restful sleep is lost / To the hisses of serpents and other seditious demons
Calmly Collected
My relaxed reveal / faked a fool / while tanking time / with failing fuel.
Overload
If I don’t text back / Please don’t think it’s you / It’s the abundance of info / That I must go through
The Imposter
Comparison is the enemy / The future seems bleak / Look left, look right
Contributing Writer
Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center Paul L. Foster School of Medicine
Chika Nwachukwu is a third-year medical student at Texas Tech University Health Sciences Center Paul L. Foster School of Medicine in El Paso, Texas class of 2023. In 2018, she graduated from Texas A&M University with a Bachelor of Science in health. She enjoys watching basketball, reading, traveling, and singing. After graduating from medical school, Chika would like to pursue a career in psychiatry.