Priests and doctors are privileged.
There is a tag to wipe your sin.
There is a tag to earn you bliss.
There is a tag to cure your ills.
There is a tag to keep off ills.
Priests and doctors get their fees.
You pay them without guarantees.
12.10.2012
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Purple Pills
Purple pills
cure all ills.
Keep them close
to mop up spills.
Fractured temple,
Cursed mind,
Not unstable,
Not unkind,
Not instructive.
Understood,
Purple pills
for greater good.
Take them first,
Take them last,
Take them always,
Take them fast.
Lesser evil,
Greater score.
Purple pills
will give you more.
Purple pills
cure all ills.
Take them quickly,
fill our tills.
We’re not apart
You and I by fate
Now fell apart,
With rendezvous
Becoming rare or never.
If I needed you
Would you come to me
For to soothe my pain?
May not. You are tied.
If you needed me
I would come to you
All along from anywhere,
Even risking my pride,
For to soothe your pain.
Still if I needed you
Would you send me
At least kind words
For to dress my wounds?
Doubtful! You’re afraid.
If you needed me
I would come to you,
Even braving the storm,
For to dress your wounds.
Still if I needed you
Would you call me,
The least, with queries,
For to cure my ills.
Perhaps! You are shy.
If you needed me
I would come to you,
Even staking my life,
For to cure your ills.
For not to come to me,
To soothe me, to dress me
Or to cure me is not
To have no love, no heart
Or no soul for me.
I know pretty, dear.
You are the cause;
You are the balm;
For my every spasm.
Tear the fear, my dear.
10.06.99
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Half the ills we heard within our hearts are ills because we hoard them.
quote by Barry Cornwall
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Quick Fix
Don't need no doctor, don't need no pills
Nothing it gives me's gonna cure my ills
I've got it bad baby and that ain't no lie
There ain't no vaccine for what I've got
Your kind of poison it don't come in a shot
It's just a cravin' baby that I can't deny
I've been tearin' up the town slammin' whiskey down
Ain't nothing but the real thing gonna do...no
There ain't no quick fix for you.
Babe...Lawd...There ain't no quick fix
You drive me crazy baby with those eyes
When you walked in the room you hit me broadside
Its a little past midnight
How blue can you get?
No matter how I try to drink this county dry
There really ain't no substitute....no
I need a quick fix for you
There ain't no easy answer
There ain't no miracle cure
I told the doctor what I needed
He said you better just run to her
Don't need no doctor, don't need no pills
Nothing it gives me gonna cure my ills
Well, no matter how I try to drink this county dry
There really ain't no substitute...no.
There ain't no quick fix for you
There ain't no quick fix.
song performed by by 38 Special
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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
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To feel our ills is one thing, but to cure them is another.
Hope! of all ills that men endure, the only cheap and universal cure.
quote by Abraham Cowley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Of all ills that one endures, hope is a cheap and universal cure.
quote by Abraham Cowley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Will She
The musty smell of dollar bills.
Which people think will cure their ills
they simply cannot get enough.
of that crisp green folding stuff.
But money won’t buy happiness
you can get by on something less
A lesson they are slow to learn
You do not need all you can earn..
By putting in those extra hours
and have no time to smell the flowers.
Totally neglect your family.
It is your choice you are quite free.
to leave your wife a rich widow
But will she miss you when you go.
20-Jan-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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To Chase Away Those Ills
You've clawed your way up to the top,
To dropp the jaws of foolish people.
Although this climb you have not stopped,
Already you've prepared a sequel.
There are mouth and lips,
You wish to permanently seal.
And this,
Would...
Give you a lift to thrill.
And this,
Would...
Cure every ill you feel.
Those obstacles you've conquered,
Have been crushed into tiny rocks.
Those obstacles you've conquered,
Have got you heated to sizzle hot!
And this,
Has...
Produced a peace of mind so real.
You've clawed your way up to the top,
To dropp the jaws of foolish people.
Although this climb you have not stopped,
Already you've prepared a sequel.
And this,
Has...
Produced a peace of mind so real.
And this,
Has...
Come to chase away those ills.
Of any kind on a mind.
And this,
Has...
Come to chase away those ills.
Of any kind on a mind.
And this,
Has...
Come to chase away those ills.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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There is no short and easy road, no magic cure for those ills which have afflicted mankind from the dawn of history.
quote by Frank B. Kellogg
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When the Lad for Longing Sighs
When the lad for longing sighs,
Mute and dull of cheer and pale,
If at death's own door he lies,
Maiden, you can heal his ail.
Lovers' ills are all to buy:
The wan look, the hollow tone,
The hung head, the sunken eye,
You can have them for your own.
Buy them, buy them: eve and morn
Lovers' ills are all to sell.
Then you can lie down forlorn;
But the lover will be well.
poem by Alfred Edward Housman
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The cure for all the ills and wrongs, the cares, the sorrows, and the crimes of humanity, all lie in the one word 'love'. It is the divine vitality that everywhere produces and restores life.
quote by Lydia M. Child
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The cure for all ills and wrongs, the cares, the sorrows and the crimes of humanity, all lie in the one word 'love.' It is the divine vitality that everywhere produces and restores life.
quote by Lydia Maria Child
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Denials Kept
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Produce conflicts to fulfill.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Destroys not create.
Denials kept,
Chases with debates.
Denials kept,
Confuses those who lose.
Denials kept,
Is the choice of fools.
Denials kept,
Hides inside those minds that lie...
To themselves with alibis.
Denials kept,
Victimize and kill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Do not warm but chill.
Denials kept,
Keep the truth concealed.
Denials kept,
Produce conflicts...
To fulfill.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Protect the sick from ills.
Denials kept,
Kills.
Kills.
Kills.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Happy Doctor's Day,2012! ' Let All Indians Say Today
Respect the white coat that all doctors wear;
Respect the stethoscope with which they hear;
Respect the prescriptions they write and tear;
Respect all doctors for they truly care!
To treat diseases, some doctors do dare;
They try their best for all patients to fare;
Some of them are doyens, pioneers rare;
Some do miraculous feats, at which all stare!
Wish doctors all, ‘A Happy Doctors Day! '
Thank them for their hard work and pray today;
Remember, they keep diseases at bay;
Most doctors do their jobs in noble way!
'Happy Doctor's Day,2012 in INDIA! '
From a Doctor Dean, Medical Teacher and Poet
IRT PMC&H & RTS, Perundurai, TN., India
Copyright by Dr John Celes 01-06-2012
poem by John Celes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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God Loves us
God's love should not be questioned,
When He tests us,
with heart breaks and troubles,
and the solution to all our ills,
ills of body and soul,
illusion of unknown,
God loves us a lot,
when the questions are tougher.
God's love should not be debated,
When He knows everything,
that happened, happen and will happen,
but keeps all these secrets,
away from us, to live and realize,
enjoy, suffer and be confused,
and end of the day to say,
everything happens for good.
God loves us deeply,
when session is longer.
poem by Veeraiyah Subbulakshmi
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Stocked Full of Clues
Before an egg is cracked...
A chicken is hatched from that.
To peck around until its feathers are plucked.
Then baked or fried,
Or perhaps made into soup.
That is stocked full of clues,
To cure most ills.
Put that noodle in your noggin and sip on it!
And don't dropp this if it's hot!
It is just that valuable.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Love In The Summer Hills
Love in the summer hills,
With youth to mock at ills,
And kisses sweet to cheat
Our idle tears away.
What else has Time in store,
Till Life shall close the door?
Still let me sing love's lore,
Come sorrow when it may.
Rain on the weeping hills,
With Death to end our ills,
And only thought unsought
To point our joys' decay.
Oh Life is wounded sore
And Grief's mad waters roar.
Yet will I love once more
To--day as yesterday.
poem by Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Doctor Rabelais
Once -- it was many years ago.
In early wedded life,
Ere yet my loved one had become
A very knowing wife,
She came to me and said: 'My dear,
I think (and do not you?)
That we should have about the house
A doctor's book or two.
'Our little ones have sundry ills
Which I should understand
And cure myself, if I but had
A doctor's book at hand.
Why not economize, my dear,
In point of doctor's biils
By purchasing the means to treat
Our litt;e household ills?'
Dear, honest, patient little wife!
She did not even guess
She offered me the very prize
I hankered to possess.
'You argus, wisely, wife,' quoth I,
'Proceed without delay
To find and comprehend the works
Of Doctor Rabelais.'
I wrote the title out for her
(She'd never heard the name),
And presently she bought those books,
And home she lugged the same;
I clearly read this taunting boast
On her triumphant brow:
'Aha, ye venal doctors all,
Ye are outwitted now!'
Those volumes stood upon the shelf
A month or two unread,
Save as such times by night I conned
Their precious wit in bed;
But once -- it was a wintry time --
I heard my loved one say:
'This child is croupy; I'll consult
My doctor, Rabelais!'
Soon from her delusive dream
My beauteous bride awoke.
Too soon she grasped the fulness of
My bibliomaniac joke.
There came a sudden, shocking change,
As you may well suppose,
And with her reprehensive voice
The temperature arose.
But that was many years ago,
In early wedded life,
And that dear lady has become
A very knowing wife;
For she hath learned from Rabelais
What elsewhere is agreed:
The plague of bibliomania is
A cureless ill indeed.
And still at night, when all the rest
Are hushed in sweet repose,
O'er those two interdicted tomes
I laugh and nod and doze.
From worldly ills and business cares
My weary mind is lured,
And by that doctor's magic art
My ailments all are cured.
So my dear, knowing little wife
Is glad that it is so,
And with a smile recalls the trick
I played her years ago;
And whensoe'er dyspeptic pangs
Compel me to their sway,
The saucy girl bids me consult
My Doctor Rabelais!
poem by Eugene Field
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