Cultural References
I am a goldfish --
Living in a crystal palace resplendent, on my love's bookshelf.
Between Dostoevsky's "Notes From The Underground" and a volume of Pasternak.
(It's already March.
Still weeping, take ink --
Black spring still burning)
How I wish she would slide me into her pond,
Where I could swim back and forth within gentle waters.
When she cooled her feet,
I would weave between and around --
Tickling at every turn.
When she beckoned,
I would float to the lotus blossoms
Where she could brush her hands across my back;
There I would rest,
Listening to my Lewti read ancient Buddhist scripture.
I would listen as she spoke of enlightenment and nirvana,
Watch as she stretched and retired to her lime tree bower.
Surrounded by sweet blossoms,
She would stitch the embroidered cloths of the Gods
With golden and silver light.
This tapestry she would pin to the heavens as a sky
While I wove my hopes into a rug and threw it down before her.
Thus she would travel through life --
Gently treading on my dreams while reaching to the heavens for hers.
Disease Management
In medical school,
The first thing you learn is "chronic versus acute".
It's like love and lust.
Lust is a rapid churning of the stomach.
You become a different person --
The experience can be quite memorable.
Love sneaks up on you though.
Like a fog it becomes you,
And lingers forever as a hint of nausea.
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Submission Name: CulturalReferences&DiseaseMgnt
