The Madness
There is a writhing feeling deep within me / below the surface but always present / With the passing years it creeps up silently / searching for release.
Tag: poetry
Contributing Writer
Albany Medical College
Saba is a medical student at Albany Medical College in New York, class of 2018. Her passions include health and human rights, public health, marginalized populations, systems of oppression, mental health and integrative medicine. She spends an inordinate amount of time thinking about philosophy, purposeful living, spirituality, and wellness. She is more than open to hearing and connecting with other students and individual who share similar interests!
Anencephaly
Normally I’m itching / hustling / to be involved in a delivery.
Away Rotation
Am I in the right place? / What’s this person’s name again? / I discovered the door code! / No more waiting outside for someone to let me in.
Minneapolis
Your scent, black, / like coffee the morning after. / The boy’s blue coat is yours.
Good Morning, Howard
“Good morning, Howard. I love you” / James whispered at seven o’ clock / Every morning / Like clockwork
Nuchal Stupidity
Young eyes awake to a febrile surprise / amid a quake of jittering limbs, / a clonic fit whose master cried / and shook the serenity of his crib.
Medicine and Nothing Else
Year 1, year 2, year 3, year 4 / Each year you learn a little more / Before graduating in four / Always yearning for more
The Battle of Midday
Terrified beyond belief I never thought I’d be. / I’m overcome, I’m overrun, with little left to show. / I’m standing still, the world a thrill, my watching from within — / this room of mine, it’s time to shine —
Don’t Stop This Train
An adolescent youth at Philadelphia FIGHT had an impressive display of might. / He could have easily passed as an adult / Although he didn’t look the sight he shared a complex story of plight / And the many woes in his life that he’s had to make right.
The Exam
Once upon a Thursday dreary, as I pondered facts and theory, / Doubtful I had ever studied physiology before. / While I nodded, almost napping, suddenly there came a tapping / As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my house’s door.
Imprint
I believed him to be / a collection of gears and levers / lubricated by blood and sweat / nothing much left / but an imprint.
Roads
These busy medical students, of which I am one, / are preparing for a road trip, / stuffing our cars full of everything we might ever conceivably need: / Metaphorical band aids, jumper cables, flashlights, emergency blankets,
Contributing Writer
University of Washington School of Medicine
I am a second year medical student at the University of Washington in Seattle. I am 29 years old and majored in Theatre as an undergrad. Sometimes I write and/or draw to keep myself sane in medical school.