"physician" poems - Hello Poetry

"physician" poems

470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end— The Carmine—tingles warm— And if I hold a Glass Across my Mouth—it blurs it— Physician’s—proof of Breath— I am alive—because I am not in a Room— The Parlor—Commonly—it is— So Visitors may come— And lean—and view it sidewise— And add “How cold—it grew”— And “Was it conscious—when it stepped In Immortality?” I am alive—because I do not own a House— Entitled to myself—precise— And fitting no one else— And marked my Girlhood’s name— So Visitors may know Which Door is mine—and not

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26.9k

Emily Dickinson

I am alive—I guess

470 I am alive—I guess— The Branches on my Hand Are full of Morning Glory— And at my finger’s end— The Carmine—tingles warm— And if I hold a Glass Across my Mouth—it blurs it— Physician’s—proof of Breath— I am alive—because I am not in a Room— The Parlor—Commonly—it is— So Visitors may come— And lean—and view it sidewise— And add “How cold—it grew”— And “Was it conscious—when it stepped In Immortality?” I am alive—because I do not own a House— Entitled to myself—precise— And fitting no one else— And marked my Girlhood’s name— So Visitors may know Which Door is mine—and not

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What is a "soul"? Seriously, what is it? Ambiguity obviates all simple and complex definitions. If "souls" do exist, I suppose my "soul" is transmogrifying, Transfusing the screen. The key is Transition Of a remote position. Maybe someday a scientific physician Will invent a tracking device to track its travelling distance? Sounds sort of like a Stephen Spielberg novel The genre of science fiction Or is it? 7/18/11 (c) 2011 Brandon Antonio Smith

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Oct 14, 2014

Oct 14, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC

brandon-antonio-smith

"Soul" Searching

What is a "soul"? Seriously, what is it? Ambiguity obviates all simple and complex definitions. If "souls" do exist, I suppose my "soul" is transmogrifying, Transfusing the screen. The key is Transition Of a remote position. Maybe someday a scientific physician Will invent a tracking device to track its travelling distance? Sounds sort of like a Stephen Spielberg novel The genre of science fiction Or is it? 7/18/11 (c) 2011 Brandon Antonio Smith

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By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him. But by this familiarity they grew used to him, and so, at last, took him for their friend and adviser.

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10.6k

William Carlos Williams

By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him. But by this familiarity they grew used to him, and so, at last, took him for their friend and adviser.

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Off the train I hit the streets and start laughing. This is ridiculous, incomprehensible. How can innumerable bipeds have individual inner lives. Why are they doing what they’re doing? I have no answer New York City but to also go about my business in this case prepare for surgery, survival. But why survive with so many exact replicas to replace me? A swarm of ants or hive of bees, social organisms they’re called, climbing over each other, avoiding bumping and amazingly making way, anticipating the sudden turns and straight paths of others, strangers but brothers, sisters incubating, the cells of a small ***** nodes of a single semi-conscious organism. The concept of a higher power that cares for me is also risible yet how else can I explain the surgeon and his team, robots and magnetic resonance imaging machines, all primed and trained to save my life. They are not particularly interested in what I do with my time. I am immediately in love with the Irish brogue of the head nurse, the Indian skin of the physician’s assistant. The long extraordinarily thin fingers of the famous surgeon. All mine to savor (and the other cancer patients). Despair, lose all hope that’s what the sign says at the gates of hell and at the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center the sign says Be kind to our customers who are waiting and suffering. Yesterday’s suicidal thoughts: the mind is a clever servant, insufferable master. Therefore, meditate on this: absolute need, dependence on the Other. I still like Hombre, The Shootist and Ulzana’s Raid but realize those dead heroes were subordinate to society: the gun manufacturers who armed them. Thus, I go for cancer tests, accepting, not predicting results. Hero accepting help. A torrential rain following five days of flooding, tornadoes out west busting up wooden towns all because too many of us are hoarding plastic, herding electrons. None of us know how it will end, what the outcome will be (of our surgery). The best that can be said is Don’t forget to breathe. And you might as well believe in that higher power.

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Mar 5, 2019

Mar 5, 2019 at 6:00 AM UTC

Upper Manhattan Medical Group

Off the train I hit the streets and start laughing. This is ridiculous, incomprehensible. How can innumerable bipeds have individual inner lives. Why are they doing what they’re doing? I have no answer New York City but to also go about my business in this case prepare for surgery, survival. But why survive with so many exact replicas to replace me? A swarm of ants or hive of bees, social organisms they’re called, climbing over each other, avoiding bumping and amazingly making way, anticipating the sudden turns and straight paths of others, strangers but brothers, sisters incubating, the cells of a small ***** nodes of a single semi-conscious organism. The concept of a higher power that cares for me is also risible yet how else can I explain the surgeon and his team, robots and magnetic resonance imaging machines, all primed and trained to save my life. They are not particularly interested in what I do with my time. I am immediately in love with the Irish brogue of the head nurse, the Indian skin of the physician’s assistant. The long extraordinarily thin fingers of the famous surgeon. All mine to savor (and the other cancer patients). Despair, lose all hope that’s what the sign says at the gates of hell and at the Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Center the sign says Be kind to our customers who are waiting and suffering. Yesterday’s suicidal thoughts: the mind is a clever servant, insufferable master. Therefore, meditate on this: absolute need, dependence on the Other. I still like Hombre, The Shootist and Ulzana’s Raid but realize those dead heroes were subordinate to society: the gun manufacturers who armed them. Thus, I go for cancer tests, accepting, not predicting results. Hero accepting help. A torrential rain following five days of flooding, tornadoes out west busting up wooden towns all because too many of us are hoarding plastic, herding electrons. None of us know how it will end, what the outcome will be (of our surgery). The best that can be said is Don’t forget to breathe. And you might as well believe in that higher power.

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Born like a kid, Believed like a child, Thought like a philosopher, Depressed like a prisoner, Felt like a sinner, Hated like a lawyer, Ate like a veterinarian, Lied like a politician, Read like a historian, Saw like a physician, Slept like a pharmacist, Smelt like a scientist, Spoke like a priest, Heard like an economist, Loved like a counselor, Tasted like a rich bachelor, Worked like a tool, Cheated like a fool, Walked like a diplomat, And died like a cat.

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Apr 7, 2013

Apr 7, 2013 at 12:29 PM UTC

prince-anin-agyei

Born like a kid, Believed like a child, Thought like a philosopher, Depressed like a prisoner, Felt like a sinner, Hated like a lawyer, Ate like a veterinarian, Lied like a politician, Read like a historian, Saw like a physician, Slept like a pharmacist, Smelt like a scientist, Spoke like a priest, Heard like an economist, Loved like a counselor, Tasted like a rich bachelor, Worked like a tool, Cheated like a fool, Walked like a diplomat, And died like a cat.

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The eternal tango of the maestro manifests itself in nigh infinite ways. With the flick of the artist's brush, the stroke of the novelist’s pen or the chicken scratch of the scholar’s nib, legacies are etched, history is written and the world is shaped. The astronomer, the craftsman and the physician all have one thing in common: Mastery. Such pinnacles of skill have decades of their lives consumed, nay devoured in the pursuit of perfection, of greatness. Like grains of sand slowly falling into a furnace are the seconds of our lives, trickling, melting into puddles. But as sand melts, it forms shapes; therein lies the potential. Moldable puddles, colourless, devoid of naught but a clear medium.

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Sep 25, 2015

Sep 25, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC

stephen-purcell

Maestro, matrices and mastery

The eternal tango of the maestro manifests itself in nigh infinite ways. With the flick of the artist's brush, the stroke of the novelist’s pen or the chicken scratch of the scholar’s nib, legacies are etched, history is written and the world is shaped. The astronomer, the craftsman and the physician all have one thing in common: Mastery. Such pinnacles of skill have decades of their lives consumed, nay devoured in the pursuit of perfection, of greatness. Like grains of sand slowly falling into a furnace are the seconds of our lives, trickling, melting into puddles. But as sand melts, it forms shapes; therein lies the potential. Moldable puddles, colourless, devoid of naught but a clear medium.

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i. Happy birthday, diaphanous balm, Mayest this span of time greeteth Thee; with Good health, and loving Psalm's. ii. Maligayang Kaarawan, archaic Gem, mayest thine smile brush- Stroke the aisles, of carbuncles Of never-ending friend's. iii. Bon anniversaire, mon amour, Mayest thine Satin-silk moonlit Eye's, be a guide to the deaf and Blind, mayest the heaven inside Thee, be the richness of the poor. iv. Harúmena genéthlia, Earl, like The lost and hidden pearl's, Mayest the luster of thine Memories, be kept safely Locked, under thumb and key, To openeth later, in sanctity. v. Penblwydd Hapus, Filipino physician whom hath saved Mine life, soul-mate, Queen, Wife, mine bearer of this heart, Mine carrier of all that's right. The beam of nebula delights, The diamond in mine might, Mine-Queen, O' Jane Mine Wife!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Jan 15, 2016

Jan 15, 2016 at 8:41 PM UTC

Ordinat annos diligit et multo tibi, Felix dies natalis regina( Another year to loveth thee, Happy birthday queen) latin tongue

i. Happy birthday, diaphanous balm, Mayest this span of time greeteth Thee; with Good health, and loving Psalm's. ii. Maligayang Kaarawan, archaic Gem, mayest thine smile brush- Stroke the aisles, of carbuncles Of never-ending friend's. iii. Bon anniversaire, mon amour, Mayest thine Satin-silk moonlit Eye's, be a guide to the deaf and Blind, mayest the heaven inside Thee, be the richness of the poor. iv. Harúmena genéthlia, Earl, like The lost and hidden pearl's, Mayest the luster of thine Memories, be kept safely Locked, under thumb and key, To openeth later, in sanctity. v. Penblwydd Hapus, Filipino physician whom hath saved Mine life, soul-mate, Queen, Wife, mine bearer of this heart, Mine carrier of all that's right. The beam of nebula delights, The diamond in mine might, Mine-Queen, O' Jane Mine Wife!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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Like an onion, I had layers. And you peeled me away, one at a time. One layer off. You saw my favorites. The food and drinks I crave for. The wall paint I wanted for my room. The perky dresses, nail polish, knee-high boots. And the spot I always prefer to be- on the front seat. One layer off. You saw my hobbies. The words I stitched together. The stars that formed our zodiac sign. The wallclimbing, badminton, volleyball. And the guitar strings that strum our lullaby. One layer off. You saw my dreams. The plane ticket to Paris. The thrill of a bungee jump. The candlelit dinner, fireworks, dancing fountain. And the license as a medical physician. One layer off. You saw my strengths. The smile behind the false judgements. The tears I fought back with pride. The temperance, confidence, adjustments. And the self-love I have strongly magnified. One layer off. You saw my insecurities. The missing dimple on my left cheek. The pimples on my forehead. The bitchface, fierce stare, strict walk. And this prominently thin-but-tall body figure. One layer off. You saw my regrets. The kisses I could have refused. The friends I thought were true. The false assumptions, unmet expectations. And the trust I gave to the wrong person. One layer off. You saw my secrets. The punches I had to take. The bruises I covered with my sleeves. The lies, frustrations, disappointments. And the brokenness suppressed in my memory. The last layer, off. You saw through me. The anxiousness escalating slowly. The exposure feeling uneasy. I felt stripped, explored, unguarded. And in my nakedness - you had to choose: To love or to leave me, For who I really am.

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Oct 27, 2013

Oct 27, 2013 at 2:49 AM UTC

Like an onion, I had layers. And you peeled me away, one at a time. One layer off. You saw my favorites. The food and drinks I crave for. The wall paint I wanted for my room. The perky dresses, nail polish, knee-high boots. And the spot I always prefer to be- on the front seat. One layer off. You saw my hobbies. The words I stitched together. The stars that formed our zodiac sign. The wallclimbing, badminton, volleyball. And the guitar strings that strum our lullaby. One layer off. You saw my dreams. The plane ticket to Paris. The thrill of a bungee jump. The candlelit dinner, fireworks, dancing fountain. And the license as a medical physician. One layer off. You saw my strengths. The smile behind the false judgements. The tears I fought back with pride. The temperance, confidence, adjustments. And the self-love I have strongly magnified. One layer off. You saw my insecurities. The missing dimple on my left cheek. The pimples on my forehead. The bitchface, fierce stare, strict walk. And this prominently thin-but-tall body figure. One layer off. You saw my regrets. The kisses I could have refused. The friends I thought were true. The false assumptions, unmet expectations. And the trust I gave to the wrong person. One layer off. You saw my secrets. The punches I had to take. The bruises I covered with my sleeves. The lies, frustrations, disappointments. And the brokenness suppressed in my memory. The last layer, off. You saw through me. The anxiousness escalating slowly. The exposure feeling uneasy. I felt stripped, explored, unguarded. And in my nakedness - you had to choose: To love or to leave me, For who I really am.

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It was cold city night, The hours with sounds dying, It seemed life had escaped, To the other side of the world, I rocked for hours with my child in my hands, I dreamt about her life to come, Like I often did, A little eased at the fever subsided. As I slipped into the clutches of sweet slumber, My head slumped down, In what seemed like a blink of an eye, My head swung up to search the sky, Where the gold of the sun Seemed to chase away the night, But there was something not right, The morning seemed to bring a sense of change, Not of the good kind. As I felt my child, burning up like the coming sun, I hurried my way to the physician, Like a saint he answered to my prayer, Asked me to wait behind while he tried to cure my life, I never realized until he gave me the handkerchief, That with my baby I’d been crying, Her cries echoing foul against my ears, I’m hurting as much on my helplessness To take care of my child, Who is part of my flesh, Part of my being on the verge of... Part of my being that I brought to life. I began to sing to my baby a lullaby, “Don’t cry my child, I’m here right by you, For you I sing this lullaby, so you may fall asleep. In the moonshine, your face glows, You look like the princess A queen you’ll grow up into, Leave me someday for your king, But till then be with me always, Even when you learn to walk, My child, so I can fulfill your wishes, So you’ll remember me always, So I can protect you till your king comes, So I can teach you to walk and run. Don’t cry, you make me cry too, Sleep now my child, tomorrow We’ll begin anew, for you’re alright, This discomfort will pass… Oh look! It’s already morn, the sun shines bright! I see you’d fallen asleep, While I kept dreaming on, Open your eyes my child, A new day has come. As I finish, I realize that you stopped crying, But to my plea, you never opened your eyes.

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Nov 12, 2012

Nov 12, 2012 at 7:57 PM UTC

It was cold city night, The hours with sounds dying, It seemed life had escaped, To the other side of the world, I rocked for hours with my child in my hands, I dreamt about her life to come, Like I often did, A little eased at the fever subsided. As I slipped into the clutches of sweet slumber, My head slumped down, In what seemed like a blink of an eye, My head swung up to search the sky, Where the gold of the sun Seemed to chase away the night, But there was something not right, The morning seemed to bring a sense of change, Not of the good kind. As I felt my child, burning up like the coming sun, I hurried my way to the physician, Like a saint he answered to my prayer, Asked me to wait behind while he tried to cure my life, I never realized until he gave me the handkerchief, That with my baby I’d been crying, Her cries echoing foul against my ears, I’m hurting as much on my helplessness To take care of my child, Who is part of my flesh, Part of my being on the verge of... Part of my being that I brought to life. I began to sing to my baby a lullaby, “Don’t cry my child, I’m here right by you, For you I sing this lullaby, so you may fall asleep. In the moonshine, your face glows, You look like the princess A queen you’ll grow up into, Leave me someday for your king, But till then be with me always, Even when you learn to walk, My child, so I can fulfill your wishes, So you’ll remember me always, So I can protect you till your king comes, So I can teach you to walk and run. Don’t cry, you make me cry too, Sleep now my child, tomorrow We’ll begin anew, for you’re alright, This discomfort will pass… Oh look! It’s already morn, the sun shines bright! I see you’d fallen asleep, While I kept dreaming on, Open your eyes my child, A new day has come. As I finish, I realize that you stopped crying, But to my plea, you never opened your eyes.

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1270 Is Heaven a Physician? They say that He can heal— But Medicine Posthumous Is unavailable— Is Heaven an Exchequer? They speak of what we owe— But that negotiation I’m not a Party to—

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6.4k

Emily Dickinson

Is Heaven a Physician?

1270 Is Heaven a Physician? They say that He can heal— But Medicine Posthumous Is unavailable— Is Heaven an Exchequer? They speak of what we owe— But that negotiation I’m not a Party to—

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Hello any of Eddie's friends on HP or even you Christians who don't know Eddie from eddiestarrpoetry most know him and his wonderful writings on Jesus Christ .. Eddie has been a friend to all of us, as he's been trying to show you the real way to live, life and love and forgiveness. And show you there is eternal life in Jesus Christ alone!!! A loving merciful Savior... Eddie wanted me to tell everyone why he hasn't been on HP lately. Reason is he got into some type of accident long ago don't know how it happened just know it messed up his brain, causing brain damage. So he's been healed of having his life restored to him praise God!!! Though he still has been getting horrible head pains and it's making him sick and in pain... He's always praying for me and you and those he hasn't met on here to know yehsua ha'mashiach- ( meaning Jesus the Messiah) in Hebrew tongue... Jesus Christ!!! Eddie is truly a man of God and a loving forgiving man... Whether you respect him or dont respect him. Put that away for now and pray for his head is all I ask you that God may heal his headpains sorrows. Lonesomeness and that God made show Eddie gods will for edds life.. I hope others will pray for him and continue to pray for this man. Because he prays for all of you even ones he don't know he prays you come to know the one and only Savior a loving Jesus and forgiving Lord and king of kings... And God's only son who died for me and you... So this is why Eddie's not been on HP lots... Please pray for him if this message touches your heart and you want God to heal Eddie...for all things are for the good to those that love god...and God will do stuff in his time not ours... Humans always want things our way. We seem to forget were suppose to live for God's will and choices not our selfish wills. Hope and pray others may pray for eddiestarr. Thank you and by ending with that wanna write poetic prayer for Eddie not really poem. Lol just quick prayer for you Eddie!!! Dear God, heavenly father ... I come to you today to ask for your healing and mercy upon my brother Eddie , God I ask you may touch Eddie's head... That you may heal whatever's happening with the pains in his brain and head .. I pray dear God you can heal Eddie from his toes to the top of his head. I pray Lord God for your anointing over Eddie. That your angels may be upon him, as well as your holy spirit may be sent to him in his times or lonesomeness, sorrow, pain physical mental emotional spiritual. God please give Eddie peace in all aspects of his life and I come to you today God. To heal Eddie fully that his life may be abundant and as once was... And God please show Eddie his purpose here on this earth before you take him LORD... Show Eddie you are in control and there's no reason to fear even in sickness. For you are the great healing physician dear God. I beg ask and pray for your loving kindness over Eddie and mercy and grace. And your healing will come whether in Eddie's time or in your own. For me and Eddie know all things work together for good to those that love you dear God. Please guide Eddie in his hard times right now and sickness. I ask and pray and thank you Lord for hearing my prayer ... In Jesus name I pray Amen!!!

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May 6, 2016

May 6, 2016 at 2:14 PM UTC

This isnt a poem its to ask if others can please pray for Eddie star or eddie star poetry ( eddie) very good christian man on here who needs prayer, thanks .....

Hello any of Eddie's friends on HP or even you Christians who don't know Eddie from eddiestarrpoetry most know him and his wonderful writings on Jesus Christ .. Eddie has been a friend to all of us, as he's been trying to show you the real way to live, life and love and forgiveness. And show you there is eternal life in Jesus Christ alone!!! A loving merciful Savior... Eddie wanted me to tell everyone why he hasn't been on HP lately. Reason is he got into some type of accident long ago don't know how it happened just know it messed up his brain, causing brain damage. So he's been healed of having his life restored to him praise God!!! Though he still has been getting horrible head pains and it's making him sick and in pain... He's always praying for me and you and those he hasn't met on here to know yehsua ha'mashiach- ( meaning Jesus the Messiah) in Hebrew tongue... Jesus Christ!!! Eddie is truly a man of God and a loving forgiving man... Whether you respect him or dont respect him. Put that away for now and pray for his head is all I ask you that God may heal his headpains sorrows. Lonesomeness and that God made show Eddie gods will for edds life.. I hope others will pray for him and continue to pray for this man. Because he prays for all of you even ones he don't know he prays you come to know the one and only Savior a loving Jesus and forgiving Lord and king of kings... And God's only son who died for me and you... So this is why Eddie's not been on HP lots... Please pray for him if this message touches your heart and you want God to heal Eddie...for all things are for the good to those that love god...and God will do stuff in his time not ours... Humans always want things our way. We seem to forget were suppose to live for God's will and choices not our selfish wills. Hope and pray others may pray for eddiestarr. Thank you and by ending with that wanna write poetic prayer for Eddie not really poem. Lol just quick prayer for you Eddie!!! Dear God, heavenly father ... I come to you today to ask for your healing and mercy upon my brother Eddie , God I ask you may touch Eddie's head... That you may heal whatever's happening with the pains in his brain and head .. I pray dear God you can heal Eddie from his toes to the top of his head. I pray Lord God for your anointing over Eddie. That your angels may be upon him, as well as your holy spirit may be sent to him in his times or lonesomeness, sorrow, pain physical mental emotional spiritual. God please give Eddie peace in all aspects of his life and I come to you today God. To heal Eddie fully that his life may be abundant and as once was... And God please show Eddie his purpose here on this earth before you take him LORD... Show Eddie you are in control and there's no reason to fear even in sickness. For you are the great healing physician dear God. I beg ask and pray for your loving kindness over Eddie and mercy and grace. And your healing will come whether in Eddie's time or in your own. For me and Eddie know all things work together for good to those that love you dear God. Please guide Eddie in his hard times right now and sickness. I ask and pray and thank you Lord for hearing my prayer ... In Jesus name I pray Amen!!!

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My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now reason is past care, And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; My thoughts and my discourse as mad men’s are, At random from the truth vainly expressed. For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

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3.8k

William Shakespeare

Sonnet 147: My Love Is As A Fever, Longing Still

My love is as a fever, longing still For that which longer nurseth the disease, Feeding on that which doth preserve the ill, Th’ uncertain sickly appetite to please. My reason, the physician to my love, Angry that his prescriptions are not kept, Hath left me, and I desperate now approve Desire is death, which physic did except. Past cure I am, now reason is past care, And frantic-mad with evermore unrest; My thoughts and my discourse as mad men’s are, At random from the truth vainly expressed. For I have sworn thee fair, and thought thee bright, Who art as black as hell, as dark as night.

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I scoffed at my minor cough Until I was immobile as a sloth I had to press pause on my life's tale After I became a beached whale And my body turned frail In my illness jail My stoic resolve tested My pain threshold crested The way I act is antisocial The way I feel is anti-hopeful For I treat others poorly When I'm hurting sorely In sickness for health I give away my wealth To feel one hundred percent That's the physician's intent To make me experience drainage But I need the healing medicine So I can practice the discipline Of removing my diseased shark's fin Ramses II, known as Ramesses the Great Had a permanently fractured finger And his teeth were significantly rotten The pharaoh's excruciating pain Must have effected his reign A massive amount of men slain Is discomfort what's to blame? When there's no pain relief We give each other grief And there's a lion with a thorn stuck in its paw Eventually that simple thorn becomes a claw

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Nov 6, 2017

Nov 6, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC

I scoffed at my minor cough Until I was immobile as a sloth I had to press pause on my life's tale After I became a beached whale And my body turned frail In my illness jail My stoic resolve tested My pain threshold crested The way I act is antisocial The way I feel is anti-hopeful For I treat others poorly When I'm hurting sorely In sickness for health I give away my wealth To feel one hundred percent That's the physician's intent To make me experience drainage But I need the healing medicine So I can practice the discipline Of removing my diseased shark's fin Ramses II, known as Ramesses the Great Had a permanently fractured finger And his teeth were significantly rotten The pharaoh's excruciating pain Must have effected his reign A massive amount of men slain Is discomfort what's to blame? When there's no pain relief We give each other grief And there's a lion with a thorn stuck in its paw Eventually that simple thorn becomes a claw

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I bet you didn't know that the 7 dwarfs Used to work for Santa Claus Yep, they all got fired from the north pole Cause they kept breaking too many laws See, Doc was the north pole physician He tended to those who were afflicted But he was writing too many prescriptions And three hundred elves got addicted Then we have the dwarf called Sneezy Sneezy became a problem too Everywhere he goes he's blowing his nose And they all came down with the flu Next we have the dwarf named Sleepy Now this one should speak for itself He was always found somewhere laying down Curled up in a corner on a shelf Then there's the dwarf called Bashful This one was just way too shy And when they finally gave him his pink slip He was too embarressed to say goodbye That brings us to the dwarf named Happy Now he was just a bundle of joy But they just couldn't get him to do any work Cause he was always playing with the toys And of course we can't forget about ***** This one always did what they said But he was a little slow, if you know what I mean And they think he was dropped on his head And last but not least we have Grumpy He would stay out drinking all night Now he was the the north pole's problem child Cause he was always starting all the fights Well that's the end of my story And I really hope you're not annoyed Did I tell you Snow White fired them too? Yep, all seven dwarfs are unemployed

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Apr 7, 2010

Apr 7, 2010 at 11:06 AM UTC

Santa Claus and the 7 Dwarfs

I bet you didn't know that the 7 dwarfs Used to work for Santa Claus Yep, they all got fired from the north pole Cause they kept breaking too many laws See, Doc was the north pole physician He tended to those who were afflicted But he was writing too many prescriptions And three hundred elves got addicted Then we have the dwarf called Sneezy Sneezy became a problem too Everywhere he goes he's blowing his nose And they all came down with the flu Next we have the dwarf named Sleepy Now this one should speak for itself He was always found somewhere laying down Curled up in a corner on a shelf Then there's the dwarf called Bashful This one was just way too shy And when they finally gave him his pink slip He was too embarressed to say goodbye That brings us to the dwarf named Happy Now he was just a bundle of joy But they just couldn't get him to do any work Cause he was always playing with the toys And of course we can't forget about ***** This one always did what they said But he was a little slow, if you know what I mean And they think he was dropped on his head And last but not least we have Grumpy He would stay out drinking all night Now he was the the north pole's problem child Cause he was always starting all the fights Well that's the end of my story And I really hope you're not annoyed Did I tell you Snow White fired them too? Yep, all seven dwarfs are unemployed

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By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him. But by this familiarity they grew used to him, and so, at last, took him for their friend and adviser.

0

3.4k

William Carlos Williams

By constantly tormenting them with reminders of the lice in their children’s hair, the School Physician first brought their hatred down on him. But by this familiarity they grew used to him, and so, at last, took him for their friend and adviser.

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I bet you didn't know that the 7 dwarfs Used to work for Santa Claus Yep, they all got fired from the north pole Cause they kept breaking too many laws See, Doc was the north pole physician He tended to those who were afflicted But he was writing too many prescriptions And three hundred elves got addicted Then we have the dwarf called Sneezy Sneezy became a problem too Everywhere he goes he's blowing his nose And they all came down with the flu Next we have the dwarf named Sleepy Now this one should speak for itself He was always found somewhere laying down Curled up in a corner on a shelf Then there's the dwarf called Bashful This one was just way too shy And when they finally gave him his pink slip He was too embarrassed to say goodbye That brings us to the dwarf named Happy Now he was just a bundle of joy But they just couldn't get him to do any work Cause he was always playing with a toy And of course we can't forget about ***** This one always did what they said But he was a little slow, if you know what I mean And they think he was dropped on his head And last but not least we have Grumpy He would stay out drinking all night Now he was the the north pole's problem child Cause he was always starting a fight Well that's the end of my story And I really hope you're not annoyed Did I tell you Snow White fired them too? Yep, all seven dwarfs are unemployed © All Rights Reserved

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Dec 6, 2010

Dec 6, 2010 at 5:51 PM UTC

Santa Claus and the 7 Dwarfs

I bet you didn't know that the 7 dwarfs Used to work for Santa Claus Yep, they all got fired from the north pole Cause they kept breaking too many laws See, Doc was the north pole physician He tended to those who were afflicted But he was writing too many prescriptions And three hundred elves got addicted Then we have the dwarf called Sneezy Sneezy became a problem too Everywhere he goes he's blowing his nose And they all came down with the flu Next we have the dwarf named Sleepy Now this one should speak for itself He was always found somewhere laying down Curled up in a corner on a shelf Then there's the dwarf called Bashful This one was just way too shy And when they finally gave him his pink slip He was too embarrassed to say goodbye That brings us to the dwarf named Happy Now he was just a bundle of joy But they just couldn't get him to do any work Cause he was always playing with a toy And of course we can't forget about ***** This one always did what they said But he was a little slow, if you know what I mean And they think he was dropped on his head And last but not least we have Grumpy He would stay out drinking all night Now he was the the north pole's problem child Cause he was always starting a fight Well that's the end of my story And I really hope you're not annoyed Did I tell you Snow White fired them too? Yep, all seven dwarfs are unemployed © All Rights Reserved

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Not even kidding. I have been in the throes of a sort of mid-life crisis, because I can't have any more babies. I ******* LOVE BABIES My best friend is pregnant right now. Soooo pregnant. It's ******* adorable. And I, I am unable to have ANY MORE BABIES. BUT I LOVE BABIES. No **** you guys, I really like to have babies. I am ******* GOOD AT HAVING AWESOME BABIES. My ****** was like baby ******* paradise. And I just had a miniature midlife crisis over the fact that I had to use the word "was" right there. If I still had that ****** I would be forced to use multiple layers of protection to ward off fertilization, and MORE BABIES. I LOVE BABIES. I can gestate like a ************ Oh wait, maybe more like a ****** mother, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. ******* BABIES! And when I give birth, I do it kamikaze style, with only a couple minutes notice for the attending physician. BLINKED? OH NO, SORRY DR. ************ YOU ******* MISSED IT! Back when I had a ****** like last year, I was fertile like a thing that is incredibly fertile. You had to put an army between me and my ****** or some **** would go on and I would be all, oh! A new kid! That's inconvenient! But man, you know, you birth a child, it's insanely difficult on a level incomprehensible to anyone who hasn't done it, you work through it. And then ******* hell, you're the mother of 3 teenagers and your very productive ****** is all **** YOU, SERIOUSLY? And you put it out of your misery, and then, a few months later, you think it would be nice to have another baby.

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Jun 5, 2013

Jun 5, 2013 at 11:36 PM UTC

I ******* love babies

Not even kidding. I have been in the throes of a sort of mid-life crisis, because I can't have any more babies. I ******* LOVE BABIES My best friend is pregnant right now. Soooo pregnant. It's ******* adorable. And I, I am unable to have ANY MORE BABIES. BUT I LOVE BABIES. No **** you guys, I really like to have babies. I am ******* GOOD AT HAVING AWESOME BABIES. My ****** was like baby ******* paradise. And I just had a miniature midlife crisis over the fact that I had to use the word "was" right there. If I still had that ****** I would be forced to use multiple layers of protection to ward off fertilization, and MORE BABIES. I LOVE BABIES. I can gestate like a ************ Oh wait, maybe more like a ****** mother, YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN. ******* BABIES! And when I give birth, I do it kamikaze style, with only a couple minutes notice for the attending physician. BLINKED? OH NO, SORRY DR. ************ YOU ******* MISSED IT! Back when I had a ****** like last year, I was fertile like a thing that is incredibly fertile. You had to put an army between me and my ****** or some **** would go on and I would be all, oh! A new kid! That's inconvenient! But man, you know, you birth a child, it's insanely difficult on a level incomprehensible to anyone who hasn't done it, you work through it. And then ******* hell, you're the mother of 3 teenagers and your very productive ****** is all **** YOU, SERIOUSLY? And you put it out of your misery, and then, a few months later, you think it would be nice to have another baby.

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Snow White had a pain one day, She called for the court physician. He checked her pulse, he felt her head Said she had a strange condition. Told her to eat some apples wild And come back the very next day. Then found that she must be with child; For how long, he couldn't say. Snow White had no rememberance Of ever laying down with a man; But her child bore a slight resemblance To a motley forest band. Seven dwarves had lived in a place Right at the edge of town; Rumors flew it was a disgrace Which Snow White would never live down. But then someone remembered a chap Name of Johnny Appleseed, came through Said he put some seed right in Snow's lap- Just before her belly grew.

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Mar 15, 2010

Mar 15, 2010 at 8:54 PM UTC

patti-masterman-heterodynemind

Snow White Had a Pain

Snow White had a pain one day, She called for the court physician. He checked her pulse, he felt her head Said she had a strange condition. Told her to eat some apples wild And come back the very next day. Then found that she must be with child; For how long, he couldn't say. Snow White had no rememberance Of ever laying down with a man; But her child bore a slight resemblance To a motley forest band. Seven dwarves had lived in a place Right at the edge of town; Rumors flew it was a disgrace Which Snow White would never live down. But then someone remembered a chap Name of Johnny Appleseed, came through Said he put some seed right in Snow's lap- Just before her belly grew.

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(truck-drivers, bar-boozers, loser-bar yokles, blue-collar rednecks will all love this smash hit song!!!) Rockin country genre "Big Mouth Surgery" (by david John Clare) (rockin' country drunk hick juke-box mix) Wow! She sure does talk a lot... could almost cause a riot But we don't get... just what she's trying to say We could hear her fine before... when she used to be quiet Guess all them new school-words get in the way We took her to see... a gypsy-psychic-magician But he wanted more... than we could pay So we took her down to see... our local town physician And here's what old doc... had to say Boys... "She needs Big Mouth Surgery" Her tongue is on the blink She just talks, sqwacks and talks some more 'Cause she don't know how to think So please don't be stallin' Her brain is now corrupt Can't you see that she has fallen' And she just can't ''shut-up!" Big Mouth Surgery Cause no pills seem to work Hurry please now doctor Before she drives us all berserk Big Mouth Surgery But will it work without a doubt? Better make it a lobotomy Before she starts to shout! (solo) Our reputations are expensive While her talk is **** cheap You just can't tell her nothin' 'Cause a secret she can't keep No one seems to know What the fuss is all about We're just waitin' for her brain To catch up with her mouth She needs Big Mouth Surgery Her mind is on the blink She always talks, talks and talks all day Why can't she just please stop & think? So please don't be stallin' Her head is all corrupt Can't you see that she has fallen' Her fat-mouth can't shut-up! Big Mouth Surgery We need to find her a shrink Hurry please there doctor Before she drives us all to drink Big Mouth Surgery She's heard north, east, west & south Who gave her brain a laxative? Got diarrhea of the mouth! Big Mouth Surgery No pill can take effect Hurry please now doctor She is a mental wreck Our minds: she made us loose Her words: just seem to ooze It's so hard: to take a snooze We just drown all-day in ***** Beer, Whisky, Wine & ***** . . . To wash away our ear-ache blues! Yip Yip Zip Lip! ...Yee Haw! (c) 2009 David Wayne Clare CLAIRVOYANT MUSIC / BMI all rights reserved in perpetuity

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Dec 1, 2014

Dec 1, 2014 at 2:28 AM UTC

Big Mouth Surgery

(truck-drivers, bar-boozers, loser-bar yokles, blue-collar rednecks will all love this smash hit song!!!) Rockin country genre "Big Mouth Surgery" (by david John Clare) (rockin' country drunk hick juke-box mix) Wow! She sure does talk a lot... could almost cause a riot But we don't get... just what she's trying to say We could hear her fine before... when she used to be quiet Guess all them new school-words get in the way We took her to see... a gypsy-psychic-magician But he wanted more... than we could pay So we took her down to see... our local town physician And here's what old doc... had to say Boys... "She needs Big Mouth Surgery" Her tongue is on the blink She just talks, sqwacks and talks some more 'Cause she don't know how to think So please don't be stallin' Her brain is now corrupt Can't you see that she has fallen' And she just can't ''shut-up!" Big Mouth Surgery Cause no pills seem to work Hurry please now doctor Before she drives us all berserk Big Mouth Surgery But will it work without a doubt? Better make it a lobotomy Before she starts to shout! (solo) Our reputations are expensive While her talk is **** cheap You just can't tell her nothin' 'Cause a secret she can't keep No one seems to know What the fuss is all about We're just waitin' for her brain To catch up with her mouth She needs Big Mouth Surgery Her mind is on the blink She always talks, talks and talks all day Why can't she just please stop & think? So please don't be stallin' Her head is all corrupt Can't you see that she has fallen' Her fat-mouth can't shut-up! Big Mouth Surgery We need to find her a shrink Hurry please there doctor Before she drives us all to drink Big Mouth Surgery She's heard north, east, west & south Who gave her brain a laxative? Got diarrhea of the mouth! Big Mouth Surgery No pill can take effect Hurry please now doctor She is a mental wreck Our minds: she made us loose Her words: just seem to ooze It's so hard: to take a snooze We just drown all-day in ***** Beer, Whisky, Wine & ***** . . . To wash away our ear-ache blues! Yip Yip Zip Lip! ...Yee Haw! (c) 2009 David Wayne Clare CLAIRVOYANT MUSIC / BMI all rights reserved in perpetuity

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Oh, I have tried to laugh the pain away, Let new flames brush my love-springs like a feather. But the old fever seizes me to-day, As sickness grips a soul in wretched weather. I have given up myself to every urge, With not a care of precious powers spent, Have bared my body to the strangest scourge, To soothe and deaden my heart's unhealing rent. But you have torn a nerve out of my frame, A gut that no physician can replace, And reft my life of happiness and aim. Oh what new purpose shall I now embrace? What substance hold, what lovely form pursue, When my thought burns through everything to you?

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2.6k

Oh, I have tried to laugh the pain away, Let new flames brush my love-springs like a feather. But the old fever seizes me to-day, As sickness grips a soul in wretched weather. I have given up myself to every urge, With not a care of precious powers spent, Have bared my body to the strangest scourge, To soothe and deaden my heart's unhealing rent. But you have torn a nerve out of my frame, A gut that no physician can replace, And reft my life of happiness and aim. Oh what new purpose shall I now embrace? What substance hold, what lovely form pursue, When my thought burns through everything to you?

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As I talk to you on imvu I cannot help but Wish your were my physician Our forbidden love I would keep a secret If you worship me as The Greek goddess I am

0

Dec 5, 2020

Dec 5, 2020 at 4:45 AM UTC

Beautifullycreepy

As I talk to you on imvu I cannot help but Wish your were my physician Our forbidden love I would keep a secret If you worship me as The Greek goddess I am

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Teen model Shonali Khatun strutted the catwalk as the audience cheered at a fashion show in Bangladesh's capital. But Shonali is no ordinary model, and this was no ordinary show. She and the 14 other models are survivors of acid attacks, common in this south Asian country, where spurned lovers or disgruntled family members sometimes resort to hurling skin-burning acid at their victims. The fashion show, held Tuesday night in Dhaka and attended by fashion lovers, rights activists and diplomats including the US ambassador to Bangladesh, aimed to redefine the notion of beauty while calling attention to the menace of such attacks. For 14-year-old Shonali, the event was nothing short of empowering. She was attacked just days after she was born amid a property dispute involving her parents, and was left with burn scars on her face and arms. She spent nearly three years in a hospital and underwent eight operations. Her attacker has never been caught. "I am so happy to be here," she said. "One day I want to be a physician." The models, including three men, walked the catwalk, dancing and singing and showcasing woven handloom Bangladeshi designs. The show was choreographed by local designer Bibi Russel. Organisers said they hoped to highlight the fact that acid victims, too often overlooked, are a vital part of society. They deliberately chose to hold the event on the eve of International Women's Day. "We are here today to show their inner strength, as they have come a long way," said Farah Kabir, country director of ActionAid Bangladesh, which organised the show. "I often take inspiration from them. Their courage is huge." Bangladesh has struggled to deal with acid attacks in recent decades, and has instituted harsh punishments for the perpetrators, including the death penalty. The country has also trained doctors to treat such sensitive cases and attempted to control the sale of acid, but has failed to eliminate the scourge entirely. In 2016, some 44 people were attacked with acid in Bangladesh - an annual number that has remained relatively stable. "I am ashamed of having such things in the country," Kabir said. "Unfortunately, in Bangladesh we do have acid victims because of either gender discrimination or violence, or because of greed. And we want to remind everyone the kind of injustice that has been meted out to them."Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses

0

Mar 8, 2017

Mar 8, 2017 at 8:57 PM UTC

Bangladeshi fashion show sees acid attack victims take to the catwalk

Teen model Shonali Khatun strutted the catwalk as the audience cheered at a fashion show in Bangladesh's capital. But Shonali is no ordinary model, and this was no ordinary show. She and the 14 other models are survivors of acid attacks, common in this south Asian country, where spurned lovers or disgruntled family members sometimes resort to hurling skin-burning acid at their victims. The fashion show, held Tuesday night in Dhaka and attended by fashion lovers, rights activists and diplomats including the US ambassador to Bangladesh, aimed to redefine the notion of beauty while calling attention to the menace of such attacks. For 14-year-old Shonali, the event was nothing short of empowering. She was attacked just days after she was born amid a property dispute involving her parents, and was left with burn scars on her face and arms. She spent nearly three years in a hospital and underwent eight operations. Her attacker has never been caught. "I am so happy to be here," she said. "One day I want to be a physician." The models, including three men, walked the catwalk, dancing and singing and showcasing woven handloom Bangladeshi designs. The show was choreographed by local designer Bibi Russel. Organisers said they hoped to highlight the fact that acid victims, too often overlooked, are a vital part of society. They deliberately chose to hold the event on the eve of International Women's Day. "We are here today to show their inner strength, as they have come a long way," said Farah Kabir, country director of ActionAid Bangladesh, which organised the show. "I often take inspiration from them. Their courage is huge." Bangladesh has struggled to deal with acid attacks in recent decades, and has instituted harsh punishments for the perpetrators, including the death penalty. The country has also trained doctors to treat such sensitive cases and attempted to control the sale of acid, but has failed to eliminate the scourge entirely. In 2016, some 44 people were attacked with acid in Bangladesh - an annual number that has remained relatively stable. "I am ashamed of having such things in the country," Kabir said. "Unfortunately, in Bangladesh we do have acid victims because of either gender discrimination or violence, or because of greed. And we want to remind everyone the kind of injustice that has been meted out to them."Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/bridesmaid-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses

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In Your name, there is healing Cities with an epidemic illnesses Stands like the Mt. Horeb Mighty in posture forever As Your stretch stretch Your hands Leprosy’s from every nation cast down Desperate heart finds, its home In the green pasture besides the still water The night will be as it is But the morning bring great deliverance At some point of, there will be songs Of thankfulness from the inside Your love for us never fails and cease Springs of water flows like fountain From Your grace to my place Im once frail and sick but im release Far from the medicine and gurney Your faithfulness in my life Brings tremendous miracles in many ways I just I just declare it in faith and love I say to the world You are Healer A great Physician of the Father I experience it right now, the touch Tomorrow will be a testimony like no other

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May 7, 2010

May 7, 2010 at 7:37 PM UTC

Meningitis And Pneumonia??

In Your name, there is healing Cities with an epidemic illnesses Stands like the Mt. Horeb Mighty in posture forever As Your stretch stretch Your hands Leprosy’s from every nation cast down Desperate heart finds, its home In the green pasture besides the still water The night will be as it is But the morning bring great deliverance At some point of, there will be songs Of thankfulness from the inside Your love for us never fails and cease Springs of water flows like fountain From Your grace to my place Im once frail and sick but im release Far from the medicine and gurney Your faithfulness in my life Brings tremendous miracles in many ways I just I just declare it in faith and love I say to the world You are Healer A great Physician of the Father I experience it right now, the touch Tomorrow will be a testimony like no other

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Physician Nature! Let my spirit blood! O ease my heart of verse and let me rest; Throw me upon thy Tripod, till the flood Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full breast. A theme! a theme! great nature! give a theme; Let me begin my dream. I come -- I see thee, as thou standest there, Beckon me not into the wintry air. Ah! dearest love, sweet home of all my fears, And hopes, and joys, and panting miseries, -- To-night, if I may guess, thy beauty wears A smile of such delight, As brilliant and as bright, As when with ravished, aching, vassal eyes, Lost in soft amaze, I gaze, I gaze! Who now, with greedy looks, eats up my feast? What stare outfaces now my silver moon! Ah! keep that hand unravished at the least; Let, let, the amorous burn -- But pr'ythee, do not turn The current of your heart from me so soon. O! save, in charity, The quickest pulse for me. Save it for me, sweet love! though music breathe Voluptuous visions into the warm air; Though swimming through the dance's dangerous wreath, Be like an April day, Smiling and cold and gay, A temperate lilly, temperate as fair; Then, Heaven! there will be A warmer June for me. Why, this, you'll say, my ***** is not true: Put your soft hand upon your snowy side, Where the heart beats: confess -- 'tis nothing new -- Must not a woman be A feather on the sea, Sway'd to and fro by every wind and tide? Of as uncertain speed As blow-ball from the mead? I know it -- and to know it is despair To one who loves you as I love, sweet ***** Whose heart goes fluttering for you every where, Nor, when away you roam, Dare keep its wretched home, Love, love alone, his pains severe and many: Then, loveliest! keep me free, From torturing jealousy. Ah! if you prize my subdued soul above The poor, the fading, brief, pride of an hour; Let none profane my Holy See of love, Or with a rude hand break The sacramental cake: Let none else touch the just new-budded flower; If not -- may my eyes close, Love! on their lost repose.

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2.4k

Physician Nature! Let my spirit blood! O ease my heart of verse and let me rest; Throw me upon thy Tripod, till the flood Of stifling numbers ebbs from my full breast. A theme! a theme! great nature! give a theme; Let me begin my dream. I come -- I see thee, as thou standest there, Beckon me not into the wintry air. Ah! dearest love, sweet home of all my fears, And hopes, and joys, and panting miseries, -- To-night, if I may guess, thy beauty wears A smile of such delight, As brilliant and as bright, As when with ravished, aching, vassal eyes, Lost in soft amaze, I gaze, I gaze! Who now, with greedy looks, eats up my feast? What stare outfaces now my silver moon! Ah! keep that hand unravished at the least; Let, let, the amorous burn -- But pr'ythee, do not turn The current of your heart from me so soon. O! save, in charity, The quickest pulse for me. Save it for me, sweet love! though music breathe Voluptuous visions into the warm air; Though swimming through the dance's dangerous wreath, Be like an April day, Smiling and cold and gay, A temperate lilly, temperate as fair; Then, Heaven! there will be A warmer June for me. Why, this, you'll say, my ***** is not true: Put your soft hand upon your snowy side, Where the heart beats: confess -- 'tis nothing new -- Must not a woman be A feather on the sea, Sway'd to and fro by every wind and tide? Of as uncertain speed As blow-ball from the mead? I know it -- and to know it is despair To one who loves you as I love, sweet ***** Whose heart goes fluttering for you every where, Nor, when away you roam, Dare keep its wretched home, Love, love alone, his pains severe and many: Then, loveliest! keep me free, From torturing jealousy. Ah! if you prize my subdued soul above The poor, the fading, brief, pride of an hour; Let none profane my Holy See of love, Or with a rude hand break The sacramental cake: Let none else touch the just new-budded flower; If not -- may my eyes close, Love! on their lost repose.

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Kiss me Not only on the mouth But wherever you want My beloved doctor I want to feel your length As you examine me Kiss me on the neck Kiss me on the collar bone Kiss me in my secret places That no one knows about My sweet physician

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Dec 5, 2020

Dec 5, 2020 at 4:28 AM UTC

Beautifullycreepy

Kiss me Not only on the mouth But wherever you want My beloved doctor I want to feel your length As you examine me Kiss me on the neck Kiss me on the collar bone Kiss me in my secret places That no one knows about My sweet physician

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