Miscellaneous Poems

Johanna Shapiro, PhD

It was late in the afternoon and the family medicine clinic had been unusually busy – filled with medically complicated patients whose life circumstances were even more complex. And it was the start of July, when yesterday our learners were medical students somewhere, and today they were our doctors.
As a behavioral health specialist who participates in the training of residents, I was observing one of the new interns as he started his final interview of the day. It appeared a straightforward case – according to the chart, the patient had “a cold.” The intern, visibly exhausted and also visibly relieved that he was almost home free, at least for today, began his interrogation.

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by J. Shapiro

Un jeune homme,
en general et (on peut dire) blond,
attend devant noi
dans la queue

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by the Shapiro Family

Linked verse in linked family: Johanna and Deane traveled for a year in Asia, including time at the Zen Daitokuji monastery in Kyoto, and a Chan monastery in Taroko Gorge, Taiwan after they married (ah, just celebrated their 48th anniversary!). During that time, they wrote a small book of poetry, including haiku. They noted that “It was wonderful to reconnect to that part of ourselves again, and to invite our (now adult) children Shauna, Jena, Josh (all of whom grew up in Laguna, attending Top of the World, Thurston, and Laguna Beach High School) to join us. We joke linked verse and linked family in love and poetry.”

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by D and J Shapiro

Had idea of starting to re-write poetry with J, a reprise of our 1970-71 poetry book:

A
Daily ^ Musing

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Johanna Shapiro, PhD

18 year old boy
No one expected him to die
But he did anyway
Blood everywhere
Social worker: I should have prepared mom better
Resident: We quickly went on with our rounds
     Other patients to see
     No choice
Social worker: He reminded me of my son
Resident: He reminded me of my brother
     Too bad

Johanna Shapiro, PhD
2016

In the waiting room
people pretend to look at their smart phones
shush their kids
ruffle ancient magazines
glare at the receptionist
when they think she can’t see them

Really they are waiting –
to find out what’s wrong
to find out what will fix them
Really they are waiting
for hope
or the pretense of hope

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Johanna Shapiro, PhD

If I climb into the same boat as you
Will it sink?

If I walk a mile in your shoes
Will I get blisters?

If my heart bleeds for you,
Will I need a transplant?

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Johanna Shapiro, PhD

Small, innocuous, hardy plant
leaves so full of juice
I broke you this morning
to bring you miles from your
happy yard
so I could observe you
inspect you
dissect you
Now your apple-green
leaves are shriveling
I ask forgiveness
and hope I can carry you
home
as gently as a living thing
plant you again
and see you bloom

Johanna Shapiro, PhD

I live in the white world
but I walk in the red way

By the time I wanted
to take a long walk
off a short pier
I couldn’t walk at all

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