Doctor, You Must Beware!
Doctor, do you play God?
Your work is but slip-shod;
Patients call you just sod;
Are you a demi-god?
You care for lives galore,
Or waste your time sea-shore;
You work like a bee-hive;
If not, patients’ lives nose-dive!
Lives lie in your skill’d hand;
You wave a magic-wand;
You can postpone their death,
But not for long, I bet!
You may advise others
On health aspects, brothers;
Modern day stress can kill
And make anyone ill.
Moderation’s the best;
Common-sense makes up the rest;
Prudence is much better;
Spirit does too matter.
What the use if you can save
A hundred lives but rave?
For more is being lost
And none can afford the cost!
When wealth, you had sought,
A car, a house, you bought;
Had children and a wife,
Spared no time for own life!
You ate sans exercise;
Then came sudden demise;
You must forget your lands;
Your life is in God’s Hands!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 12-26-1999
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
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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God Abhors Murder
‘Thou shalt not kill! ’
–Outside the womb or inside it.
The life-Giver can always take;
The life-rearer dare never kill!
Life is God-given most precious wealth on earth;
No human being shalt take life or abet,
Except the Giver in His time by right!
Pro-life’s the way, the world goes on;
Pro-life’s the only way, we can exist;
Pro-life’s meant for all ages, sex;
Pro-life’s patron is God himself!
Do not provoke God’s wrath through murders foul;
Do not invoke His anger by killing;
Do not annul the blessings pre-destined,
By murdering the unborn in the womb!
Shame on a society that kills its own!
Accursed be leaders according license;
When saving lives is health-care’s main ethics,
Abortion, mercy-killing have no place!
The lives we try to save are scarce;
The ones we kill are so many;
More lives perish when humans err!
Like doctors, mothers too shan’t kill!
Why pluck the buds that aren’t blossomed?
Why destroy trees are quite old?
The elderly now tend to kids,
But children don’t want them old-aged!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 9-12-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Sonnet: Doctors Should Not Strike
While everyone has liberty to strike,
And protesting for human rights is great,
None should endanger lives we like/ dislike,
As public sympathy then comes too late!
Some professions that save lives should desist
From doing things against ethics/ conscience;
The thought of strikes, they must always resist,
Resorting to dialogues of much patience!
For life itself is wealth and gift priceless;
No one has right to put others' at risk;
Our arguments to strike work turn baseless,
When tiny tots could die like lambs that frisk!
Our rights can wait but lives lost is forever;
Life-saving professionals to strikes, say, ' Never! '
Dedicated to all medical professionals on ‘Doctor's Day! '
Copyright by Dr John Celes 26-06-12
poem by John Celes
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Sonnet: Save Human Lives
You kill a lamb and yet ’tis not a sin;
You play with dolls but don’t worship them still;
’Tis murder when you kill men, kith and kin;
Man lives a life predestined by God’s will.
‘Though blood is thicker than water’- we say,
Not many care if human blood is lost!
Although man plans, God calls off everyday;
One must save human lives at any cost.
And human life is most precious to God;
And so He gave each man a soul to keep;
Nevertheless, He made all things from clod;
From murder, man most punishment will reap.
We have no right to take another’s life;
God will reward if lives are saved from knife!
21-3-2001
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The World Needs Peace, Not Through Wars!
What loss of lives and destruction!
Can lives all lost ever return?
How many more will have to die?
Can one man’s death bring back lives lost?
What pollution, a war can add!
Let Cats who declare wars on mice,
Take the blame and pay the price!
War is a gambling game like dice;
War is a futile exercise.
One cannot fight wars with mere knives;
War is a waste of human lives;
Alas, will nations realize
That keeping peace is always wise?
Wars can begin without a cause;
The world can’t have a single boss!
One nation can’t stifle the rest,
Or try to be always the best.
The world body must give OK!
The world must say to wars, all ‘nay’;
For lasting peace, war isn’t the way!
The cost of wars, who will repay?
The world must find out other ways,
Avoiding wars in future days;
Each nation must unmask its face,
And set on peace, its gaze always!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 1-1-2007
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doctor’s Day,2010(acrostic)
Doctors are a noble lot
Often misunderstood, a slot
Caring for the sick and dying
They comfort the anguished and crying
One true noble profession, world envies
Really doing yeoman service
Sacrificing precious time for patients’ sake
Demanding not much in return
Always ready to save lives
Yet, the world seems dissatisfied!
‘Happy Doctor’s Day! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-1-2010
poem by John Celes
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I’m Proud, an Indian Doctor
I’m proud an Indian doctor;
I have a billion lives to save;
In practice, let me not falter;
But with my patients well behave.
’Tis thrilling to serve fellowmen,
Suff’ring from newer disease;
Let me use my fullest ken,
And teach them how to live in peace.
My country is a poor nation;
My brethren need my treatment;
So, let me serve with passion;
And free them from their ailment.
God turned me to be healer great;
And serve my fellowmen ill;
Let me improve patient’s fate;
By using my God-given skill.
I’m proud to serve my brethren;
God will bless me some day, some way;
A Doctor turns earth to heaven-
Some day, my patients will sure say!
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Medical Profession
Awards, rewards cannot suffice,
A doctor's life's mere sacrifice;
A unique, prolonged enterprise,
For which he's praised or pays the price!
Nevertheless, the work is nice;
But he must learn to keep off vice;
From other's faults, becoming wise,
Money must never him entice!
From start to end, it is sheer toil;
He always burns the mid-night oil;
His character, conduct shouldn't spoil;
He learns patience and not to boil!
He must heed to his conscience;
He is a man who dwells in science;
He ought to keep his ethics good,
And love his duty, brotherhood!
God is the Healer in essence;
Doctors are souls in quintessence;
His craft and art need common-sense;
The stress and strain shouldn't make him tense!
Respect the doctor for his job;
To pay Paul, he may Peter, rob;
The world can't thrive without doctors;
He faces challenging factors.
But God is by his side always;
Through perils, strife, he passes days;
And satisfaction becomes base
That goads him do well in each case!
The world must thank doctors, like God;
May they live long sans any rod;
They slog to maintain patients' health;
Doctors are nation's priceless wealth!
"Happy Doctor's Day,2012! "
To all my teachers, colleagues, friends, and medicos.
From Dean, Dr.Prof. A.Celestine Raj Manohar MD., IRT PMC & H &RTS, Perundurai
Copyright by Dr John Celes 01-05-2012
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Ways of Life
Do not conform to the ways
‘The ways' are but a way to capture your spirit,
To break your heart,
To kill your soul.
The ways cause tears to run down my face,
In the dark,
In the light,
In the twilight.
For no matter what time of day it is nothing changes,
People go through the motions,
Like animals,
Like robots.
No one is willing to explore and enjoy life,
We don't live, we exist,
We just stroll through our lives,
Meaningless, pointless.
Work is everyone's first priority,
But why?
Isn't work supposed to be a way to pay for our lives?
Not the meaning for our lives...
poem by Lenore Lee
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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My Clinic
My clinic is a ‘church’ in which I pray;
Not many patients flock in anyway;
Some rosaries I manage to well say;
This keeps both devils and my foes away.
The ones that come are poorer than they seem;
‘The rich in cars come only in my dream.’
Most patients brush their teeth with only neem;
My words of solace make their faces gleam.
So, can I fleece my brethren poor and ill?
Can I then hand them inflated a bill?
Can I charge them for just a sample pill?
They live despite the doctor’s care by ‘will! ’
I long to see more patients but be wise;
I dare not try to anyway entice;
My profession is sacrosanct and nice;
I cannot let it turn into a vice!
The only thing I hate is waste my time;
The other thing I hate’s a rainy clime;
But everyday, I write aplenty rime;
I never mind if I earn just a dime!
I scooter daily not more than a mile;
I feel so happy seeing patients smile;
Becoming rich is not my beloved style;
My heart abounds with joy when poor souls file.
When will my practice pick up? - I don’t know;
To God, my art of healing, I just owe;
Rewards in heaven wait for righteous, oh!
To ways God makes me walk, I say not, ‘No! ’
Copyright by Dr John Celes 7-10-2006
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Lamp-lighting By Nurses
By lamps, you light although daylight,
You light the world of darkened lives
Of ailing patients and dying,
Giving them hope of life quite bright!
The lamps you hold by hand today
Affirm your wish to toil always,
Relieving pain and sufferings
Of sick, diseased brethren all day!
Like ‘Lady with the lamp’ you show
Your heart has love and compassion
For mankind sick and afflicted;
To God, the Healer, you thus bow!
The lamps will show the world around
That nurses are a noble lot
Who sacrifice their lives and time
To make everybody’s health sound!
May nurses fill the world with cheer!
Like Nightingale, serve sick always;
Your work is more than gold, aye, dear!
Be bold but kind to human race!
Fondly dedicated to the ‘I Batch’
Of IRT SON students and staff
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Abortion is Outright Murder
You have no right to kill yourself;
You have no right to kill your own;
You have no right to kill others;
No one has right to kill someone.
Abortion kills the babe unborn;
Abortion kills the babe in womb;
Abortion is murder outright;
Abortion’s not anyone’s right!
Parents shouldn’t kill their progeny;
‘Aborting parents’ are killers;
Parents are like terrorists then!
Abortion isn’t doctors’ duty!
Doctors are meant to just save lives;
Doctors can’t abet murders, man;
Health care can’t include abortions!
Health care must only extend life.
Doctors are healers, life-savers;
Parents are rearers, life-carers;
Health care must try to avoid deaths;
Health care shouldn’t lead to murders foul!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 9-17-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Children’s Day,2009
Our children are the gift from God;
You spoil the child by sparing rod;
The priceless wealth from Heav’n above,
That are being aborted now!
Children must be brought up with care;
They have the right to food and air;
Yet, freedom is seldom given;
To begging alms, some are driven!
Children need to learn and to play;
God dwells in them, some always say;
No home is complete without them;
They’re matrimony’s diadem!
How some struggle to have one child!
Yet some rear them like beasts in wild;
The future of the world depends
On healthy children’s dividends!
But why are children ignored much?
Denied are they love, human touch;
Their lives are lost in umpteen ways;
World’s children pass such sadder days!
O world, wake up from your slumber!
Children are bigger in number;
The health of nations is their health;
World’s children are the planet’s wealth!
Let’s make the world a better place;
Let children wear a smile on face;
Let parents rear them with due care;
Without good children, none can fare!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 11-14-2009
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Hole in the Sky!
There’s a hole in the sky,
Amidst the rain-bearing clouds,
And only when the gap is closed,
Will the rain finally come,
To quench the intense thirst,
Of the lands’ parched lips!
There’s a hole in the sky,
That allows U-V rays,
So dangerous to human lives,
Becoming bigger everyday:
It is the Ozone Hole!
Let’s blame our flouro-carbons!
There’s a hole in the sky!
And children try to fill the gap,
To place the final picture-piece,
And make the landscape painting whole;
But the job is so tough:
A losing battle, it sure seems.
There’s a hole in the sky!
It should not become bigger;
Let’s strive to keep it smaller,
For health of human beings.
Let’s patch up the hole while we can,
Reducing risks to our lives!
The sky is our protector;
The sky is our rain-giver;
The sky is our benefactor;
Let’s keep the hole not agape;
Let’s work to close the Hole
In the sky, and keep our lives, whole!
No ladder is just tall enough;
No pulley is quite strong enough;
When children join to try to solve
The Herculean puzzle then,
Why shouldn’t mankind as a whole?
Copyright by Dr John Celes 2-4-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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9 Lives
9 - 9 - 9 - 9 - 9 lives
This is the 90's and I need a lover with (9 lives)
With my bad self
(If I really) {sample repeats in song}
I.. I.. I.. I...
(9 lives)
Sing Stella
CHORUS:
If I really had 9 lives
I'd want a lover that controlled my mind
Someone who knows about the heavenly sin
How 2 kill with love again, again and again
When she calls me on the phone
She'll ask if I'm alone
Standin' at my door lookin' mega-fine
Heck-a-pump body sayin' good time
When all the others talk plenty of jive
My lover talks about 9 lives
The first 2 promise I'll die from the heat
Generated from the moment that our eyes meet
CHORUS
(With my bad self)
Life number 3 and number 4
Are spent makin' love on the magic floor
It's got no walls so all can see
The way real love is supposed 2 be
Don't be ashamed, my lover said
Then she says "Mmm, I betcha I'm mega-jammin'"
Life number 5, 6 and 7
Need U ask, go like heaven
CHORUS
(With my bad self)
(Control me)
With my bad self
If I really had 9 lives
I'd want a lover that controlled my mind
2 kill with love, we'd never die
We'd never long 4, we'd never cry
If we live 4 havin' each other's touch
It's never 2 little, it's never 2 much
Play
With my bad self
With my, with my bad self
If I really had, if I really had, if I really had 9 lives
This is the 90's
And everybody wants a lover
A life-long lover with 9 lives
(9 lives)
This is the 90's
(CHORUS) {repeat in BG}
Sing Stella
Call me up on the phone
I'll be here all alone
I'll be waitin' on U, baby
I'll be waitin' on U and your 9 lives!
Silence
song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Sonnet: Advice to Doctors
No patient’s mine; no patient remains yours;
The patient comes and goes from Doc to Doc;
If he improves, we simply then rejoice,
Though God’s the key to the diagnostic-lock!
All patients ail and expect some relief;
A doctor’s duty is to help him out;
All patients speak the truth; Time is the thief;
To use his knowledge best, all Doctors ought.
Fleece not the poor; cheat not the ones who’re sick;
God is the Healer prime; He uses us;
Off not life’s candle-flame with intact wick;
The Doctor shirking work invites God’s curse!
Lose not Ethics; lose not your morals, Doc!
Like patients, Doctors are part of God’s flock.
8-28-2002
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Our Lady of Health, Vailangkanni!
O Queen of Heaven, Star of Sea!
Our dear Annai Vailangkanni!
So many met a grave, watery!
Could you not stall the Tsunami?
A lady with her infant child,
Who wore stars for crown on her head,
Had appeared in a divine way,
When sailors prayed for help, that day!
The Portuguese promised to build
A church for her if she would quell
The stormy sea, threatening to kill;
And take them safe to shore God-willed!
They knelt and prayed to her with tears:
‘Mother of Jesus, take our fears;
O Spare our lives for ones all dear! ’
The Queen of Health did promptly hear.
The sea became all quiet, calm;
The ship was protected from harm;
The sailors landed on the shore
Where stood ajar, a church’s door!
Our lady with infant Jesus
Had saved their lives from Satan’s curse;
Their hearts with gratitude afilled;
By miracle, the sea was stilled!
They built a bigger church for her;
And hoisted flag of dear Mother;
The church wrought miracles with time,
As people flocked to her all clime.
O Queen of Heaven, Star of Sea!
Our dear Annai Vailangkanni!
How many died so easily!
Could you not stall the Tsunami?
Perhaps, if they had prayed to her,
She would have saved their lives, mother;
Yet, those inside the Church escaped,
As sea-water did not enter!
While many those around saw death,
Caught by the swirling killer waves,
With death and destruction galore,
The church was spared by miracle!
Pray for us, O Mother Mary!
With tears we say the Rosary;
Our lives at times do turn scary;
Our cross in life, Help us carry!
Copyright by Dr John Celes 6-24-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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A Rethink on Abortions
The time has come for all to think-
A babe in womb is also life;
No one with conscience would dare kill,
Nor dismember a life with skill.
Do we all eat to vomit food?
Do we all drink to bring it out?
Why let a ‘seed’ grow in the womb,
And pare the ‘seedling’ fully grown?
O noble souls that heal all wounds!
You took your oath to save all lives;
Let conscience dictate all your ways;
Let not your hand cut string of life!
Life is most sacred when human;
You should not kill for merely fun;
When you can’t make one human part,
Why kill a human babe with art?
Should mankind turn a killer-race?
Should doctors serve, abetting crime?
No law can suppress one’s conscience,
That tells you what is right or wrong.
The unborn baby in the womb
Is also life, like me and you;
Why make its place of birth, a tomb?
The God of life won’t forgive you.
Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-24-2008
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To be honest, I have done a lot of exciting and challenging things. However, what is the most fulfilling to me is the work that I do on a daily basis, in taking care of my patients and my experience as a medical correspondent on television. Traveling to Pakistan to cover the earthquake, helping Katrina disaster victims, and seeing so many children who were injured and homeless had a very humbling effect upon me. You realize that a lot of what we worry about in our daily lives pales in comparison to the horrors most people face in this world, and that true happiness and contentment are achieved not through fame or riches, but by the ability to impact the lives of others and to evolve as a person. My long term goals include continuing the humanitarian work about which I am passionate, continuing to work as a medical doctor, and expanding that into work as a medical correspondent.
Pavan Grover in Yellow Magazine (September 2006)
Submitted by Simona Enache
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Making Of A Man
Man doesn't want to beg or rob
To support himself he needs and wants a job
And when he does, he'll do the best that he can
And truly what he does, makes himself a man,
He doesn't want to rely by the support of others
Whether they be friends or strangers, or sisters or brothers
He wants to build and support with his own two hands
As that is truly, what makes himself a man,
He wants to be proud of how he lives his life
As he would rather give than take, from the needy in life
The calluses on his hands shows where he has been
As being a lazy man, he will never be accused of that sin,
Everything he owns he has paid for and bought
From the work he has done, the possessions he sought
And the pride started when he could either begged or steal
But then he knows that life is either a sweet or sour pill,
He lives by his pride and his honor is his work
Supporting himself and his family is his greatest perk
He will continue this tradition until he cannot anymore
When his body is tired, and his muscles are sore,
Then the day will come when he is old and gray
And out in the pasture they will put him to graze
He will remember how he worked and proudly he did stand
And how he sweated and worked; as he became a man.
poem by Randy McClave
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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