The Doctor's Story
Good folks ever will have their way
Good folks ever for it must pay.
But we, who are here and everywhere,
The burden of their faults must bear.
We must shoulder others' shame,
Fight their follies, and take their blame:
Purge the body, and humor the mind;
Doctor the eyes when the soul is blind;
Build the column of health erect
On the quicksands of neglect:
Always shouldering others' shame-
Bearing their faults and taking the blame!
Deacon Rogers, he came to me;
"Wife is a-goin' to die," said he.
'Doctors great, an' doctors small,
Haven't improved her any at all.
'Physic and blister, powders and pills,
And nothing sure but the doctors' bills!
"Twenty women, with remedies new,
Bother my wife the whole day through.
'Sweet as honey, or bitter as gall
Poor old woman, she takes 'em all.
'Sour or sweet, whatever they choose;
Poor old woman, she daren't refuse.
'So she pleases whoe'er may call,
An' Death is suited the best of all.
'Physic and blister, powder an' pill
Bound to conquer, and sure to kill!"
Mrs. Rogers lay in her bed,
Bandaged and blistered from foot to head.
Blistered and bandaged from head to toe,
Mrs. Rogers was very low.
Bottle and saucer, spoon and cup,
On the table stood bravely up;
Physics of high and low degree;
Calomel, catnip, boneset tea;
Everything a body could bear,
Excepting light and water and air.
I opened the blinds; the day was bright,
And God gave Mrs. Rogers some light.
I opened the window; the day was fair,
And God gave Mrs. Rogers some air.
Bottles and blisters, powders and pills,
Catnip, boneset, sirups and squills;
Drugs and medicines, high and low,
I threw them as far as I could throw.
"What are you doing?" my patient cried;
"Frightening Death," I coolly replied.
"You are crazy!" a visitor said:
I flung a bottle at his head.
Deacon Rogers he came to me,
'Wife is a-gettin' her health," said he.
"I really think she will worry through;
She scolds me just as she used to do.
'All the people have poohed an' slurred,
All the neighbors have had their word;
"'Twere better to perish, some of 'em say,
Than be cured in such an irregular way."
"Your wife," said I, "had God's good care,
And His remedies, light and water and air.
"All of the doctors, beyond a doubt,
Couldn't have cured Mrs. Rogers without.'
Tle deacon smiled and bowed his head;
Then your bill is nothing," he said.
"God's be the glory, as you sayl
God bless you, Doctor! Good day! Good day!"
If ever I doctor that woman again,
I'll give her medicine made by men.
poem by Will Carleton
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Related quotes
To Lord Thurlow
'I lay my branch of laurel down.
Then thus to form Apollo's crown.
Let every other bring his own.'~Lord Thurlow's lines to Mr. Rogers
'I lay my branch of laurel down.'
Thou 'lay thy branch of laurel down!'
Why, what thou'st stole is not enow;
And, were it lawfully thine own,
Does Rogers want it most, or thou?
Keep to thyself thy wither'd bough,
Or send it back to Doctor Donne:
Were justice done to both, I trow,
He'd have but little, and thou--none.
'Then thus to form Apollo's crown.'
A crown! why, twist it how you will,
Thy chaplet must be foolscap still.
When next you visit Delphi's town,
Inquire amongst your fellow-lodgers,
They'll tell you Phoebus gave his crown,
Some years before your birth, to Rogers.
'Let every other bring his own.'
When coals to Newcastle are carried,
And owls sent to Athens, as wonders,
From his spouse when the R egent's unmarried,
Or Liverpool weeps o'er his blunders;
When Tories and Whigs cease to quarrel,
When Castlereagh's wife has an heir,
Then Rogers shall ask us for laurel,
And thou shalt have plenty to spare.
Happy Doctors’ Day,2008
All doctors are not demi-gods;
No doctor is miraculous;
All doctors are human beings,
Who help the sick and try to cure.
But doctors deal with human lives;
The profession’s noblest of all;
The Healer is Almighty God;
The doctor is His instrument.
The world is rife with ailments new;
The doctor strives his best to cure;
The doctor lessens suffering;
The miracles are done by God.
Yet, newer therapies have come;
The future for patients is bright;
Let people be more health-aware,
And live lives longer happily.
‘A Happy Doctors’ Day, ’08! ’
Pray God gives cures for more ailments;
The body’s, mind’s health stands foremost;
The doctor is like you, human.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-1-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Doctor’s Mistake
As towns flourish and teem with life
Of all colours and creeds
In one of them lived with his wife
A doctor, with certain needs
Life and practice were more than good
He’d friends on every side
Yet took to drugs so oft he could
Which soon would turn the tide
One day a bad mistake was made
A fault he tried to hide
With pills a man in bed was laid
Who very nearly died
His medicine was wrong of course
The doctor was so high
The dose he gave could kill a horse
A man would surely die
For many years the doctor’s wife
Had prayed both night and day
For God to change her husband’s life
And take the drugs away
Her prayers were heard God saw how sad
His daughter lived with tears
Although her husband’s deeds were bad
God freed them of their fears
The doctor’s heart began to melt
He joined his wife in prayer
“Oh Lord my God what guilt I’ve felt
Since knowing You are there”
Salvation came because a wife
Had knelt in fervent prayer
Not only had her husband life
But now! Life’s Truth they share.
poem by Michael P. Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Maveric
Maveric Prowles
Had Rumbling Bowles
That thundered in the night.
It shook the bedrooms all around
And gave the folks a fright.
The doctor called;
He was appalled
When through his stethoscope
He heard the sound of a baying hound,
And the acrid smell of smoke.
Was there a cure?
'The higher the fewer'
The learned doctor said,
Then turned poor Maveric inside out
And stood him on his head.
'Just as I though
You've been and caught
An Asiatic flu -
You musn't go near dogs I fear
Unless they come near you.'
Poor Maveric cried.
He went cross-eyed,
His legs went green and blue.
The doctor hit him with a club
And charged him one and two.
And so my friend
This is the end,
A warning to the few:
Stay clear of doctors to the end
Or they'll get rid of you.
poem by Spike Milligan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doctor's Day In India
Though once a year comes Doctor's Day,
Let us celebrate it;
‘A noble profession', all say;
Accolades, let's befit.
All doctors must improve health-care
Of world's sick/suffering souls;
Let doctors toil for sick-welfare,
Assuming varied roles.
The world needs better doctors more -
A dedicated lot;
They form the health-providers core -
A sacrificing slot!
May doctors work most selflessly;
May patients benefit;
May doctors serve them faultlessly,
And heal all, bit by bit!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I'm not a real movie star. I've still got the same wife I started out with twenty-eight years ago.
quote by Will Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Adventures Of Isabel
Isabel met an enormous bear,
Isabel, Isabel, didn't care;
The bear was hungry, the bear was ravenous,
The bear's big mouth was cruel and cavernous.
The bear said, Isabel, glad to meet you,
How do, Isabel, now I'll eat you!
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry.
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She washed her hands and she straightened her hair up,
Then Isabel quietly ate the bear up.
Once in a night as black as pitch
Isabel met a wicked old witch.
the witch's face was cross and wrinkled,
The witch's gums with teeth were sprinkled.
Ho, ho, Isabel! the old witch crowed,
I'll turn you into an ugly toad!
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry,
She showed no rage and she showed no rancor,
But she turned the witch into milk and drank her.
Isabel met a hideous giant,
Isabel continued self reliant.
The giant was hairy, the giant was horrid,
He had one eye in the middle of his forhead.
Good morning, Isabel, the giant said,
I'll grind your bones to make my bread.
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She nibled the zwieback that she always fed off,
And when it was gone, she cut the giant's head off.
Isabel met a troublesome doctor,
He punched and he poked till he really shocked her.
The doctor's talk was of coughs and chills
And the doctor's satchel bulged with pills.
The doctor said unto Isabel,
Swallow this, it will make you well.
Isabel, Isabel, didn't worry,
Isabel didn't scream or scurry.
She took those pills from the pill concocter,
And Isabel calmly cured the doctor.
poem by Ogden Nash
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Johnny Was (feat. Guru)
[Bob Marley (attributed to Rita Marley)]
(Wo-o-o-o! Wo-o-o-o! Wooo!)
Woman hold her head and cry,
'Cause her son had been shot down in the street and died
From a stray bullet.
Woman hold her head and cry;
Explaining to her was a passerby
Who saw the woman cry (cry)
Wondering how can she work it out,
Now she knows that the wages of sin is death, yeah!
Gift of Jah is life. (life)
She cried: Ah-um, I - I know!
"Johnny was a good man," I - I know! (never did a thing wrong)
"Johnny was a good, good, good, good, good, good, good, good,
good, good, good man", (Johnny was good man)
she cried - she crie-ie-ie-ie-ie-ie-ie-ied!
Wo-ooh! Woman hold her head and cry,
As her son had been shot down in the street and died
Just because of the system. (system)
Woman hold her head and cry;
Comforting her I was passing by.
She complained, then she cry:
Oh-ooh-wo-ah, cry (ah-ah), yeah, I know now (ah-ah),
no I know, I know now: (Johnny was a good man)
Said I know, mm-mm-mm-mm-mm. (Never did a thing wrong)
Ah! Ah! (Johnny was a good man)
Can a woman tender care, she cried, (Never did a thing wrong)
Cease towards the child she bear? (Johnny was a good man)
Wo-ho-ho-ooh! Woman cry, woman - (Never did a thing wrong)
She cried, wo-oh! She cried, yeah! (Johnny was a good man)
Can a woman tender care
Cease towards the child she bear? (Never did a thing wrong)
Wo-now, cry! (Johnny was a good man)
song performed by by Bob Marley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Dr. Siegfried Iseman
I said when they handed me my diploma,
I said to myself I will be good
And wise and brave and helpful to others;
I said I will carry the Christian creed
Into the practice of medicine!
Somehow the world and the other doctors
Know what's in your heart as soon as you make
This high-soured resolution.
And the way of it is they starve you out.
And no one comes to you but the poor.
And you find too late that being a doctor
Is just a way of making a living.
And when you are poor and have to carry
The Christian creed and wife and children
All on your back, it is too much!
That's why I made the Elixir of Youth,
Which landed me in the jail at Peoria
Branded a swindler and a crook
By the upright Federal Judge!
poem by Edgar Lee Masters
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doctor's Day 2012
Most Doctors…
Try their best to heal;
Do not try to steal;
Use their ken to deal
With patient's problems and do feel!
All Doctors…
Are just humans too;
Try to be humane and do
Their duty with ethics due,
Upgrading knowledge new.
A few Doctors…
May make errors great;
May fleece patients poor;
May not perform to their best,
And earn a bad name for the rest!
Doctors…
Are a noble lot and lucky slot,
Whose toil is praised but soon forgot;
Sacrifice their life-times but cannot
Find time to check own health from rot!
Wish Doctors all, ‘A Happy Doctors Day! '
May they labour, come what may;
For their kind work, may God repay
With heaven, and bless them His way!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 29-05-2012
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Do not be afraid to give up the good to go for the great.
quote by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Don't be afraid to give up the good for the great.
quote by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Kenny Rogers - Pharoahe Monch Dub Plate
[Wyclef Jean]
Yo I'm happy to be in the South
to set off my tour in the countryside
But who better to set it off for me than this man right here
[Kenny Rogers]
Yo this Kenny Rogers chillin on the country side
with men like Wyclef (uh-huh) Jerry Wonder (uh-huh)
Big Jack (mm-hmm) Big Beast (mm-hmm)
And we gon' do something like this for you
You got to know when to hold 'em (YEAH
song performed by by Wyclef Jean from The Ecleftic * 2 Sides II A Book
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The best doctor in the world is the veterinarian. He can't ask his patients what is the matter-he's got to just know.
quote by Will Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Tim Turpin
Tim Turpin he was gravel-blind,
And ne'er had seen the skies :
For Nature, when his head was made,
Forgot to dot his eyes.
So, like a Christmas pedagogue,
Poor Tim was forced to do -
Look out for pupils; for he had
A vacancy for two.
There's some have specs to help their sight
Of objects dim and small :
But Tim had specks within his eyes,
And could not see at all.
Now Tim he wooed a servant maid,
And took her to his arms;
For he, like Pyramus, had cast
A wall-eye on her charms.
By day she led him up and down.
Where'er he wished to jog,
A happy wife, altho' she led
The life of any dog.
But just when Tim had lived a month
In honey with his wife,
A surgeon ope'd his Milton eyes,
Like oysters, with a knife.
But when his eyes were opened thus,
He wished them dark again :
For when he looked upon his wife,
He saw her very plain.
Her face was bad, her figure worse,
He couldn't bear to eat :
For she was anything but like
A grace before his meat.
Now Tim he was a feeling man :
For when his sight was thick
It made him feel for everything -
But that was with a stick.
So, with a cudgel in his hand
It was not light or slim -
He knocked at his wife's head until
It opened unto him.
And when the corpse was stiff and cold,
He took his slaughtered spouse,
And laid her in a heap with all
The ashes of her house.
But like a wicked murderer,
He lived in constant fear
From day to day, and so he cut
His throat from ear to ear.
The neighbours fetched a doctor in :
Said he, "'This wound I dread
Can hardly be sewed up -
his life Is hanging on a thread."
But when another week was gone,
He gave him stronger hope -
Instead of hanging on a thread,
Of hanging on a rope.
Ah ! when he hid his bloody work
In ashes round about,
How little he supposed the truth
Would soon be sifted out.
But when the parish dustman came,
His rubbish to withdraw,
He found more dust within the heap
Than he contracted for !
A dozen men to try the fact
Were sworn that very day ;
But though they all were jurors, yet
No conjurors were they.
Said Tim unto those jurymen,
You need not waste your breath,
For I confess myself at once
The author of her death.
And, oh ! when I refect upon
The blood that I have spilt,
Just like a button is my soul,
Inscribed with double guilt !
Then turning round his head again,
He saw before his eyes,
A great judge, and a little judge,
The judges of a-size !
The great judge took his judgment cap,
And put it on his head,
And sentenced Tim by law to hang
Till he was three times dead.
So he was tried, and he was hung
(Fit punishment for such)
On Horsham-drop, and none can say
It was a drop too much.
poem by Thomas Hood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I did pretty good for a guy who never finished high school and used to yodel at square dances.
quote by Roy Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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His Healing Process
The Lord is doing a mighty work, as His Spirit does more than lurk,
As the doctors, for me strive, with their medicine, to keep me alive,
As the work of God may overwhelm, the doctor who is at the helm,
While doctors deal with my infirmity, that our human eyes can’t see.
However, The Lord knows and sees, each of my body’s infirmities,
As the doctors deal with the known, from the tests they are shown,
While the staff with this is dealing, God above is doing the healing,
Moving me ever closer to the end, of my present battle dear friend.
The doctor indeed seems impressed, as my condition is assessed,
As my condition betters each week, to bright, from what was bleak,
For I am closer to being healed, far from what was initially revealed,
Being told that in two years ahead, I would be much closer to dead.
But, new health God has granted me, just how much I’ve yet to see,
Now my health is being restored, through the doctors, by The Lord,
Slowly, but surely I can say, God is giving me more hope each day,
Hope as I see my Lord and God, leading the way with staff and rod.
In His mercy, He has shown His face, guiding me daily in His Grace,
As my Lord leads me in this trial, He’s by my side, there’s no denial,
He’s in the process of healing me, so that many other souls will see,
My Lord’s Grace, with His Power, as I progress, every day and hour.
(Copyright ©06/2011)
(Drugs&Suicide Poem) A Last Resort
I'm on the pills again
I'm on the drugs again
I'm on a binge again
So high tonight
The lights are just to bright
Blinding
Defining you and me
Who are we going to really be
My thought are my needs
My blood looks like thick red water
I will not wake tomorrow
Death comes so slowly
You are never ready
Its like that pop up confetti
Did you bring it to the party
I'm on the pills again
I'm on the drugs again
I'm on a binge again
So high tonight
The lights are just to bright
Blinding
I'm rewinding my video of memories
Which lies in my head
The good
The bad
The sad
The cationic state
That most will never be able to relate
Why do I lie still
Have I lost all my will
I'm on the pills again
I'm on the drugs again
I'm on a binge again
So high tonight
The lights are just to bright
Blinding
Never ending
Is this a game of pretending
The screams
The shouts
They are the clouds reflections
They can be seen from the inside
The oceans comes with the high tides
The hole has gotten so wide
I need a fix
Give me the pills
Give me the drugs
I'm going on my very last binge
Before life hands me my sweet revenge
Angel of darkness take me to a place
I would not other wise ever know
Please lets go
Lets just go
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doc Sifers
Of all the doctors I could cite you to in this-'ere town
Doc Sifers is my favorite, jes' take him up and down!
Count in the Bethel Neighberhood, and Rollins, and Big Bear,
And Sifers' standin's jes' as good as ary doctor's there!
There's old Doc Wick, and Glenn, and Hall, and Wurgler, and McVeigh,
But I'll buck Sifers 'ginst 'em all and down 'em any day!
Most old Wick ever knowed, I s'pose, was _whisky!_ Wurgler--well,
He et morphine--ef actions shows, and facts' reliable!
But Sifers--though he ain't no sot, he's got his faults; and yit
When you _git_ Sifers one't, you've got _a doctor_, don't fergit!
He ain't much at his office, er his house, er anywhere
You'd natchurly think certain far to ketch the feller there.--
But don't blame Doc: he's got all sorts o' cur'ous notions--as
The feller says; his odd-come-shorts, like smart men mostly has.
He'll more'n like be potter'n 'round the Blacksmith Shop; er in
Some back lot, spadin' up the ground, er gradin' it agin.
Er at the workbench, planin' things; er buildin' little traps
To ketch birds; galvenizin' rings; er graftin' plums, perhaps.
Make anything! good as the best!--a gunstock--er a flute;
He whittled out a set o' chesstmen one't o' laurel root,
Durin' the Army--got his trade o' surgeon there--I own
To-day a finger-ring Doc made out of a Sesesh bone!
An' glued a fiddle one't far me--jes' all so busted you
'D a throwed the thing away, but he fixed her as good as new!
And take Doc, now, in _ager_, say, er _biles_, er _rheumatiz_,
And all afflictions thataway, and he's the best they is!
Er janders--milksick--I don't keer--k-yore anything he tries--
A abscess; getherin' in yer yeer; er granilated eyes!
There was the Widder Daubenspeck they all give up far dead;
A blame cowbuncle on her neck, and clean out of her head!
First had this doctor, what's-his-name, from 'Puddlesburg,' and then
This little red-head, 'Burnin' Shame' they call him--Dr. Glenn.
And they 'consulted' on the case, and claimed she'd haf to die,--
I jes' was joggin' by the place, and heerd her dorter cry,
And stops and calls her to the fence; and I-says-I, 'Let me
Send Sifers--bet you fifteen cents he'll k-yore her!' 'Well,' says
she,
'Light out!' she says: And, lipp-tee-cut! I loped in town, and rid
'Bout two hours more to find him, but I kussed him when I did!
He was down at the Gunsmith Shop a-stuffin' birds! Says he,
'My sulky's broke.' Says I, 'You hop right on and ride with me!'
I got him there.--'Well, Aunty, ten days k-yores you,' Sifers said,
'But what's yer idy livin' when yer jes' as good as dead?'
And there's Dave Banks--jes' back from war without a scratch--one
day
Got ketched up in a sickle-bar, a reaper runaway.--
His shoulders, arms, and hands and legs jes' sawed in strips! And
Jake
Dunn starts far Sifers--feller begs to shoot him far God-sake.
Doc, 'course, was gone, but he had penned the notice, 'At Big Bear--
Be back to-morry; Gone to 'tend the Bee Convention there.'
But Jake, he tracked him--rid and rode the whole endurin' night!
And 'bout the time the roosters crowed they both hove into sight.
Doc had to ampitate, but 'greed to save Dave's arms, and swore
He could a-saved his legs ef he'd ben there the day before.
Like when his wife's own mother died 'fore Sifers could be found,
And all the neighbors far and wide a' all jes' chasin' round;
Tel finally--I had to laugh--it's jes' like Doc, you know,--
Was learnin' far to telegraph, down at the old deepo.
But all they're faultin' Sifers far, there's none of 'em kin say
He's biggoty, er keerless, er not posted anyway;
He ain't built on the common plan of doctors now-a-days,
He's jes' a great, big, brainy man--that's where the trouble lays!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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We are all here for a spell get all the good laughs you can.
quote by Will Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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