Category: Medical Poetry

Lovely psychosis poem by Skye Emerson

‘Lovely Psychosis’ – Directions for Survival [a poem]

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By Skye Emerson | Featured Contributor

Once there was optimism to see silver laced clouds 
til the world shook on its axis and decidedly bowed. 
Psychosis (they say) is to go quite insane, 
lose touch with reality, but they never mention the pain. 
When all that is true breaks at the seams, 
life becomes survival, desperation and screams. 
Mistrusting your judgement since all you see is false, 
no more gut feelings to rely on, you’ve got to just halt. 
Buried beneath the weight of taunting monsters and more, 
the theories roll, there is no staunching it despite how you implore.

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bipolar poem

The Diagnosis [a poem]

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By Brandon Koebernik | Featured Contributor

Mom was schizophrenic.
Dad was bipolar.
What could I get from it?
I found out as I got older.

It started when I joined the military,
Army National Guard.
I don’t believe I was wary,
Of how things could get so hard.

A lot of time had passed.
I started noticing changes,
To the point where I wore a mask,
To hide all of the passing phases.

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PhoebeMD Health Poetry Blog Anxiety Poem

Attacked: A Poem on Anxiety

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By Riya Bhatia | Featured Contributor

Note from Author: This was written when I was experiencing one of my worst anxiety attacks. Instead of running away from it, I decided to embrace it and use my words as a means of understanding myself better.

*   *   *

My breath trembles
as the room seems to be
consuming my soul,
The walls are closing in
and my thoughts are
consuming me whole,
Sweat and tears
dim the shine
and rosiness of my face,
And all they can say
is keep picturing yourself
in a better place,
I’m crippled with fear
and can’t think
beyond this second,
How do I move on
and when will this ever end,

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

Hold it for a few seconds.

Keep breathing.

It’ll be alright,
The day will get better
and the sun will shine bright.
My heart starts to race
as tears stream down my cheek,
I can’t concentrate
on a single thing
and keep calling myself weak,

You’re not like this,
you’re strong,
you can do it,
but you’re all wrong,

Focus. Focus. Focus.

Keep focusing on your goals,
it’ll be be okay,
and not take very long.

I’m dizzy and nauseous,
fearful and upset,
how could I let this
happen to myself,

I want to go back to when I was twelve.

◊

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Spinal Con-fusion: A Poem by a Survivor

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By John Gregory Evans | Featured Author

There remains
a deadened,
freezing,
almost an anesthetizing
sense of dread
upon my fingertips and hands,
reaching deep into my leg’s nerves,
shattered spinal cord,
peeled away
as one peels an orange.

Walking,
now a challenge,
con-fusion of the fusion,
cervical cord,
Ruptured and bruised,
arrogance of the humanity factor.

Pain
within the eyes
like lightning fingers
to the crown
of God.

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physician's plea poem phoebe chi

A Physician’s Plea

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A medical student. A simple question.

“How am I supposed to go on caring?”

At the time, suggestions abound.
Work-life balance. Self-care. Hobbies.
Remembering our initial calling.
Remembering we still make a difference.
Remembering our love for medicine
and the privilege we have as caregivers.

But then the realization-
I don’t know the answer.

I only know that I have witnessed around me-
at every stage of training and practice-
evidence of emotional exhaustion.
Dissatisfaction.
Disillusionment.

Burnout.

So this is my plea…

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