Call not a surgeon before you are wounded.
Italian proverbs
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Like A Surgeon
I finally made it through med school
Somehow I made it through
Im just an intern
I still make a mistake or two
I was last in my class
Barely passsed at the institute
Now Im trying to avoid, yah Im trying to avoid
A malpractise suit
Hey, like a surgeon
Cuttin for the very first time
Like a surgeon
Organ transplants are my line
Better give me all your gause nurse
This patients fading fast
Complications have set in
Dont know how long hell last
Let me see, that i.v.
Here we go - time to operate
Ill pull his indsides out, pull his insides out
And see what he ate
Like a surgeon, hey
Cuttin for the very first time
Like a surgeon
Heres a waiver for you to sign
Woe, woe, woe
Its a fact - Im a quack
The disgrace of the a.m.a.
cause my patients die, yah my patients die
Before they can pay
Like a surgeon, hey
Cuttin for the very first time
Like a surgeon
Got your kidneys on my mind
Like a surgeon, ooh like a surgeon
When I reach inside
With my scalpel, and my forceps, and retractors
Oh oh, oh oh, woe, oh
Ooh baby, yah
I can hear your heartbeat
For the very last time
song performed by by Weird Al Yankovic
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Bad El Ess Dee
surgeon general's warning
dont eat this
seek guidance if you can
reject the fist
seek therapy if you can
just try to vomit
seek god if there is one
just try to remember
theres something extra in your pocket
call it profit
who cares how you got it
its there
smile loser
surgeon general's warning
know your acid dealer
The Trumpet
A friend fell and smashed up his teeth and jaw,
And ended up in 'casualty' what's more,
The surgeon came to sew up his damaged face,
And put his teeth and jaw back into place.
He asked the surgeon, if he would be able to play the trumpet,
No problem at all, the surgeon said, superbly, that I can bet.
Oh, how amazing, said my friend, Gosh, I must tell my wife,
Because, I've never ever played a trumpet, in my life.
poem by Ernestine Northover
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Swinging the Lead
Said the soldier to the Surgeon, "I've got noises in me head
And a kind o' filled up feeling after every time I'm fed;
I can sleep all night on picket, but I can't sleep in my bed".
And the Surgeon said,
"That's Lead!"
Said the soldier to the Surgeon, "Do you think they'll send me back?
For I really ain't adapted to be carrying a pack
Though I've humped a case of whisky half a mile upon my back".
And the Surgeon said,
"That's Lead!"
"And my legs have swelled up cruel, I can hardly walk at all,
Bur when the Taubes come over you should see me start to crawl;
When we're sprinting for the dugout, I can easy beat 'em all".
And the Surgeon said,
"That's Lead!"
So they sent him to the trenches where he landed safe and sound,
And he drew his ammunition, just about two fifty round:
"Oh Sergeant, what's this heavy stuff I've got to hump around?"
And the Sergeant said,
"That's Lead!"
poem by Andrew Barton Paterson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Wounded
Well theres a whole lot of hurting being going on
Well Ive been wounded, wounded, wounded
This aint no way to be carrying on
You see me wounded, wounded, wounded
Im taken like a stone
That youve thrown in the deep blue sea
Giving me the scars that will never heal
Wounded, wounded, wounded
I remember the day when you came up to me
Almost breaking on your knees
Said you needed me more than anything else
You really took me in
But itd make you feel good to know
Id do anything you say
Well forget that line cause I aint gonna play
Wounded, wounded, wounded
I remember the day when you came up to me
Almost breaking on your knees
Said you needed me more than anything else
You really took me in
But itd make you feel good to know
Id do anything you say
Well forget that line cause I aint gonna play
Wounded, wounded, wounded
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Butcher Was Called for The Surgeon İnterview
'Yes, Thank you very much for your interest
About the Surgeon vacancy,
But we're sorry to inform you
That your application has been rejected.'
'Why Sir? '
'They agreed that both of you cut
With your sharp instruments
And take everything out for biopsy.
But the difference they say
A Surgeon fix everything as earlier
And you throw half of the gadgets into trash bin! '
poem by Nimal Dunuhinga
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Regret
Maybe Ive forgotten the name and the address
Of everyone Ive ever known
Its nothing I regret
Save it for another day
Its the school exam and the kids have run away
I would like a place I could call my own
Have a conversation on the telephone
Wake up every day that would be a start
I would not complain of my wounded heart
I was upset you see
Almost all the time
You used to be a stranger
Now you are mine
I wouldnt even trust you
Ive not got much to give
Were dealing in the limits
And we dont know who with
You may think that Im out of hand
That Im naive, Ill understand
On this occasion, its not true
Look at me, Im not you
I would like a place I could call my own
Have a conversation on the telephone
Wake up every day that would be a start
I would not complain of my wounded heart
I was a short fuse
Burning all the time
You were a complete stranger
Now you are mine
I would like a place I could call my own
Have a conversation on the telephone
Wake up every day that would be a start
I would not complain about my wounded heart
Just wait till tomorrow
I guess thats what they all say
Just before they fall apart
song performed by by New Order
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Widow
I don't think men of eighty odd
Should let a surgeon operate;
Better to pray for peace with God,
And reconcile oneself to Fate:
At four-score years we really should
Be quite prepared to go for good.
That's what I told my husband but
He had a hearty lust for life,
And so he let a surgeon cut
Into his innards with a knife.
The sawbones swore: "The man's so fat
His kidneys take some getting at."
And then (according to a nurse),
They heard him petulantly say:
"Adipose tissue is curse:
It's hard to pack them tripes away."
At last he did; sewed up the skin,
But left, some say, a swab within.
I do not doubt it could be so,
For Lester did not long survive.
But for mishap, I think with woe
My hubby might still be alive.
And while they praise the surgeon's skill,
My home I've sold--to pay his bill.
poem by Robert William Service
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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On Two Sisters Whose Deaths Were Together
IN woods remote, hid in the mountain hollows,
Doves there are that have a gentler beauty,
Doves that are marked as by a poet's image,
And hence are called Doves of the Wounded Heart.
And such ye were, and we could never learn the
Call that would bring you to our breasts, our hands!
And such ye were, and ye were aliens in our
Barnyard-world Doves of the Wounded Heart!
You who were proud no storm had ever turned your
Flight, and you who were her cherished one
May ye have found, hid in your mountain hollows,
Your wood remote, Doves of the Wounded Heart!
poem by Padraic Colum
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Wounded Wind
the wounded wind
spirited messages
she does send
disturb not the bark of this tree
ancient soul
it does speak to me
disturb not the pureness of this stream
trickling tears
it does haunt my dreams
the wounded wind sighs
ghostly shadows still dance before her eyes
the wounded wind cries
like the coyote who splits the silence of night howling at the moon
Warning, the wrath of the wounded wind will be upon us soon
poem by by unknown author
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Ex-Whore
I'm a miserably predictable
Broken, sticked-up doll.
My dress is torn, my hair matted
And one arm dangles at my side.
My wounded pride, my wounded pride.
I used to be pretty, you know
Before I got so old, before I became disposable.
They used to look at me and smile
I was theirs for a while.
My wounded pride, my wounded pride.
Too old for the job,
No one pays to keep a rag.
I'm a doll, a broken doll,
Wishing I didn't fall.
poem by Ana Podarevska
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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I’m Proud Of Having A NORMAL Delivery
Child birth,
Which one is healthier;
And happier?
Is it natural delivery
or Ceasarian delivery?
One is (self) delivered,
another is (surgeon's help) to be delivered;
One is delivery by individual and self,
Another is a procedure carried out by surgeon
through Caesarian section;
A mother once said, I heard,
This is my child
I delivered this child;
I felt the pain,
enjoyed the pain,
with trembling of my thighs;
I am proud of having a NORMAL delivery,
It is a pleasant experience for everybody.
poem by V.K. Kanniappan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Bury My Heart At Wounded Knee
Indian legislation's on the desk of the do right congressman
Now he don't know much about the issues so he picks up the phone
And asks the advice of the senator out in indian country
A darling of the energy companies their ripping off
What's left of the reservation
I learned the safety rule
I don't know who to thank
Don't stand between the reservation
And the corporate bank
They're sending federal tanks
It isn't nice but it's reality
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Deep in the earth
I said cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee
They got these energy companies
Who want to take the land
And they got churches by the dozens
Trying to guide our hands
And turn our mother earth
Over to pollution war and greed
Well
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
I said deep in the earth
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Won't you cover me with your pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
They got the federal marshalls
We get the covert spies
We get the liars by fire
We get the fbi
They lie in court and get nailed
And still leonard peltier goes off to jail
(the bullets don't match the gun)
Bury my heart at wounded knee
An eighth of the reservation
Bury my heart at wounded knee
It was transferred in secret
Bury my heart at wounded knee
We got your murder and intimidation
Bury my heart at wounded knee
My girlfriend anna may
Talked about uranium
Her head was full of bullets
And her body dumped
The fbi cut off her hands
And told us she died of exposure
Yeah right
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Oh deep in the earth
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Won't you cover me with pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Talk about a revolution
We had the gold rush wars
Why didn't we learn to crawl?
And now our history gets written in a liar's scrawl
They tell me " honey you can still be an indian
Down at the y on saturday night''
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
I said deep in the earth
Bury my heart at wounded knee
And cover me with your pretty lies
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart at wounded knee
Bury my heart
It was an eighth of the reservation
Bury my heart
It was transferred in secret
Bury my heart
Got your murder, murder, murder and intimidation
Bury me
Bury me
Bury me
Bury my heart
Bury my heart
Bury my heart
Bury my heart
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Something About The Trees
I remember what my father told me:
There is an age when you are most yourself.
He was just past fifty then,
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?
There is an age when you are most yourself.
I know more than I did once.
Was it something about the trees that make him speak?
Only a single leaf had turned so far.
I know more than I did once.
I used to think he'd always be the surgeon.
Only a single leaf had turned so far,
Even his body kept its secrets.
I used to think he'd always be the surgeon,
My mother was the perfect surgeon's wife.
Even his body kept its secrets.
I thought they both would live forever.
My mother was the perfect surgeon's wife,
I can still see her face at thirty.
I thought they both would live forever.
I thought I'd always be their child.
I can still see her face at thirty.
When will I be most myself?
I thought I'd always be their child.
In my sleep it's never winter.
When will I be most myself?
I remember what my father told me.
In my sleep it's never winter.
He was just past fifty then.
Submitted by Jt
poem by Linda Pastan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Haughty Actor
AN actor - GIBBS, of Drury Lane -
Of very decent station,
Once happened in a part to gain
Excessive approbation:
It sometimes turns a fellow's brain
And makes him singularly vain
When he believes that he receives
Tremendous approbation.
His great success half drove him mad,
But no one seemed to mind him;
Well, in another piece he had
Another part assigned him.
This part was smaller, by a bit,
Than that in which he made a hit.
So, much ill-used, he straight refused
To play the part assigned him.
THAT NIGHT THAT ACTOR SLEPT, AND I'LL ATTEMPT
TO TELL YOU OF THE VIVID DREAM HE DREAMT.
THE DREAM.
In fighting with a robber band
(A thing he loved sincerely)
A sword struck GIBBS upon the hand,
And wounded it severely.
At first he didn't heed it much,
He thought it was a simple touch,
But soon he found the weapon's bound
Had wounded him severely.
To Surgeon COBB he made a trip,
Who'd just effected featly
An amputation at the hip
Particularly neatly.
A rising man was Surgeon COBB
But this extremely ticklish job
He had achieved (as he believed)
Particularly neatly.
The actor rang the surgeon's bell.
"Observe my wounded finger,
Be good enough to strap it well,
And prithee do not linger.
That I, dear sir, may fill again
The Theatre Royal Drury Lane:
This very night I have to fight -
So prithee do not linger."
"I don't strap fingers up for doles,"
Replied the haughty surgeon;
"To use your cant, I don't play ROLES
Utility that verge on.
First amputation - nothing less -
That is my line of business:
We surgeon nobs despise all jobs
Utility that verge on.
"When in your hip there lurks disease"
(So dreamt this lively dreamer),
"Or devastating CARIES
In HUMERUS or FEMUR,
If you can pay a handsome fee,
Oh, then you may remember me -
With joy elate I'll amputate
Your HUMERUS or FEMUR."
The disconcerted actor ceased
The haughty leech to pester,
But when the wound in size increased,
And then began to fester,
He sought a learned Counsel's lair,
And told that Counsel, then and there,
How COBB'S neglect of his defect
Had made his finger fester.
"Oh, bring my action, if you please,
The case I pray you urge on,
And win me thumping damages
From COBB, that haughty surgeon.
He culpably neglected me
Although I proffered him his fee,
So pray come down, in wig and gown,
On COBB, that haughty surgeon!"
That Counsel learned in the laws,
With passion almost trembled.
He just had gained a mighty cause
Before the Peers assembled!
Said he, "How dare you have the face
To come with Common Jury case
To one who wings rhetoric flings
Before the Peers assembled?"
Dispirited became our friend -
Depressed his moral pecker -
"But stay! a thought! - I'll gain my end,
And save my poor exchequer.
I won't be placed upon the shelf,
I'll take it into Court myself,
And legal lore display before
The Court of the Exchequer."
He found a Baron - one of those
Who with our laws supply us -
In wig and silken gown and hose,
As if at NISI PRIUS.
But he'd just given, off the reel,
A famous judgment on Appeal:
It scarce became his heightened fame
To sit at NISI PRIUS.
Our friend began, with easy wit,
That half concealed his terror:
"Pooh!" said the Judge, "I only sit
In BANCO or in Error.
Can you suppose, my man, that I'd
O'er NISI PRIUS Courts preside,
Or condescend my time to spend
On anything but Error?"
"Too bad," said GIBBS, "my case to shirk!
You must be bad innately,
To save your skill for mighty work
Because it's valued greatly!"
But here he woke, with sudden start.
He wrote to say he'd play the part.
I've but to tell he played it well -
The author's words - his native wit
Combined, achieved a perfect "hit" -
The papers praised him greatly.
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Please Call Me, Baby
Well evening fell just like a star
Left a trail across the sky
You spit as you walked out the door
If this is love were crazy
As we fight like cats and dogs
I just know theres got to be more
So please call me, baby
Wherever you are
Its too cold to be out walking the streets
We do crazy things when were wounded
Everyones a bit insane
I dont want you catching your death of cold
Walking in the rain
Ill admit I aint no angel
Ill admit I aint no saint
Im selfish and cold but youre blind
If I exercise my devils
Well my angels may leave too
And theyre so hard to find
So please call me, baby
Wherever you are
Its too cold to be out walking the streets
We do crazy things when were wounded
Everyones a bit insane
I dont want you catching your death of cold
Walking in the rain
Were always at each others throats
You know it drives me up the wall
Most of the time blowin off steam
I wish to hell youd leave me
Wish to God youd stay
Lifes so different than in our dream
Please call me, baby
Wherever you are
Its too cold to be out walking the streets
We do crazy things when were wounded
Everyones a bit insane
I dont want you catching your death of cold
Walking in the rain
I dont want you catching your death of cold
Out walking in the rain
song performed by by Indigo Girls
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I Hurt a Dove
I hurt a dove
She landed on my sill
With wings of glorious heaven
She covered me with acceptance
Legitimacy
Made me feel family
Her soft voice volatile
Her pain exposed
Incantations of delicate identity
I seen her tears
I spoke of them
She flew away wounded
I call and call but she is gone
poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Here's My Heart
Dear Lord, Are you there, listening to my little prayer
I don't know Exactly what to say
I've been toldthat you love me, Hear me when i call would help me when i fall
I should let you have your way
What I guess i'm trying to say, that I need you in my life
I know i'm tired of living in the past
I'd like to take a chance on a change down deep inside
I believe that this is one that's going to last, So here's my
CHORUS
Here's my heart, It's been broken, It's been wounded
But i'll give it all to you if you would love me (love me)
Here's my life, If you want it, you can have it
I will give it all to you because you love me
(your love is everything I need)
Dear Child, I'm right here, through your worries, through your fears
I've been waiting, for you to call my name
Oh you know, that I hear you, If you turn to me and trust my word is true
You will never be the same
Well I'm standing here to say, that you need me in your life
Cause I know that you can't make it on your own
Oh if you would take a chance, Let me change you deep inside
I promise you will never be alone, So here is...
CHORUS
Here's my heart, It's been broken, It's been wounded
But i'll give it all to you if you would love me (love me)
Here's my life, If you want it, you can have it
I will give it all to you because you love me
(your love is everything I need)
BRIDGE
You can turn to me and know that I am always standing by
I gave it all for you so you could have this gentle peace inside
I will follow you 'Cause I believe in everything you are
You are my father, You are my saviour and in the matters of the
heart I am taking yours and you are taking mine
CHORUS
Here's my heart, It's been broken, it's been wounded
but I'll give it all to you if you would love me (love me)
Here's my life, If you wanted you can have it
I will give it all to you because you love me(3x
song performed by by Out Of Eden
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Had Surgery
The small throat, the larger stomach, all this concern
With the wrong certain structure so made of me.
The surgeon has a guile, a patience too dear, but I
Am patient, a patient of well-being so well cooked.
The small throat has been enlarged and the stomach enticed
To cook me the food of luxury, the plastic relish of society.
This religion I follow of a surgeon in surgery shall last
For a life-time, forming more years onto my life tonight.
A doctor is blessed for the guilt he does not own,
A doctor planned me a retreat from life, and the time.
poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Home Is A Wounded Heart
Words and music by neil diamond
Home is a wounded heart, havent you heard the story?
Hes out for love and for glory and shes waitin home by the fire.
And wasnt it yesterday, wasnt it me who said it?
I swore that youd never regret it.
Now home is a wounded heart.
Its a complicated thing, not an ordinary thing
And my heart just breaks in two
cause I can see you standing there.
You know that I cant bear your wounded heart.
Paint me a red balloon; give me a string and baby Ill tie it,
Give me a ring and baby Ill buy it and bring it on home to you.
Home is a wounded heart.
song performed by by Neil Diamond
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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