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In April I attended\u00a0the 7th International Symposium on Poetry and Medicine where the 2016 Hippocrates Awards were announced. A fascinating day, the programme\u00a0included critiques on\u00a0Philip Larkin’s The Building<\/em>, Celia de Freine Blood Debts<\/em>,\u00a0Mary Kennan Herbert\u2019s Skin Man <\/em>series, as well as a presentation on Poetry,\u00a0Psychoanalysis and Ageing, and a discussion around the\u00a0evidence for\u00a0the benefits of poetry for patients. Poetry readings of course\u00a0dominated the proceedings, not just from winning and commended poets, but also sessions from Rafael Campo<\/a> and Wendy French<\/a>. A day truly rich in poetry, it left much to reflect on in terms of the\u00a0potential for\u00a0the genre to impact on the illness\u00a0experience.<\/p>\n Winners for the three categories within the Hippocrates Awards are featured below. These and many other poems selected by the judges are available in the 2016\u00a0anthology<\/a>.<\/p>\n Poems very gratefully reproduced by permission of the poets and the Hippocrates Prize<\/a>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n 2016 Hippocrates Prize for Poetry and Medicine<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n NHS First Prize<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n Denise Bundred\u00a0(Kitchiner)<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n A Cardiologist Seeks Certainty<\/em><\/p>\n I spread cold gel on a newborn chest<\/p>\n rest the probe on creamy skin, angle<\/p>\n between ribs, rotate to find a heart<\/p>\n no larger than the tiny fist<\/p>\n pushing me away.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Two dimensions defy translation into three<\/p>\n as I locate chambers<\/p>\n amid the maze of vessels.<\/p>\n A millimeter of movement and the image melts<\/p>\n to snowstorm on my screen.<\/p>\n I re-trace arcs of ultrasound to relieve<\/p>\n the twist of doubt.<\/p>\n Adrenalin dries saliva as I strive to decide<\/p>\n whether the aorta arches<\/p>\n to the left or right.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The nurse checks the prescription<\/p>\n against an ampoule, initials in black ink<\/p>\n secure in her certainty of drug and dose.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n The surgeon weighs my words<\/p>\n to determine his incision<\/p>\n shape his operation<\/p>\n as the incubator trundles towards theatre<\/p>\n escorting mother and the nurse.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I resolve inconsistencies<\/p>\n into diagnosis, wipe the sweat<\/p>\n from my hands, write my notes;<\/p>\n make my decision.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Open First Prize<\/strong><\/em><\/p>\n Owen Lewis<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n At Tribeca’s Edge<\/em><\/p>\n This evening, I walk to the water where the Hudson opens<\/p>\n itself to the sea, and the sea with its rough cross-currents<\/p>\n is in the air and in the light\u2014the light spectacular, clear,<\/p>\n illuminates the buildings of Newark across the water-way<\/p>\n with gold. The shimmering gold at their backs, they gather<\/p>\n to watch the harbor\u2014the skiffs, prow-high, skip like kids<\/p>\n on a great lawn, a run-away pair braid ribbons of bridal white.<\/p>\n What will I tell my colleagues, gathering in a nearby auditorium?<\/p>\n <\/p>\n I am thinking of my students, this first evening of Autumn,<\/p>\n young doctors eager with learning, still saddened by the sick.<\/p>\n The best are afraid. They\u2019ve heard their voices tired, darkened<\/p>\n and hoarse. A ferry glides by, its wake spilling the embankment,<\/p>\n so close it seems we must hitch a ride, step in\u2014and the light<\/p>\n between the distant buildings prying free, the sails opening with light.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n Young Poets Prize<\/strong><\/p>\n Catherine Wang<\/strong><\/p>\n <\/p>\n Six pills<\/em><\/p>\n Spread out in line like a <\/p>\n Fevers and rashes. There was so <\/p>\n Copyright\u00a0 \u00a9 2016 the individual poets.<\/p>\n More information, including readings and excerpts from\u00a0winning and commended poets, can be found here<\/a>.<\/p>\n <\/p>\n Check out the poetry and prose pages in\u00a0the current issue of Medical Humanities<\/a><\/em><\/p>\n <\/p>\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" In April I attended\u00a0the 7th International Symposium on Poetry and Medicine where the 2016 Hippocrates Awards were announced. A fascinating day, the programme\u00a0included critiques on\u00a0Philip Larkin’s The Building, Celia de Freine Blood Debts,\u00a0Mary Kennan Herbert\u2019s Skin Man series, as well as a presentation on Poetry,\u00a0Psychoanalysis and Ageing, and a discussion around the\u00a0evidence for\u00a0the benefits […]<\/p>\n
\nformal salute, phrased carefully on
\nthe glass dining table.
\nPrednisolone coated in
\nwhite powder
\nas
\nbitter as a serrated edge. Mycophenolate
\nalways stuck to my tongue,
\na thick bullet. Then,
\nEsomeprazole and Hydroxychloroquine
\ncoated my
\ninsides
\nwith chalk. I swallowed Calcium,
\nVitamin D, just to ensure
\nthat my thinning bones
\nwould not crumble
\nlike wet
\npaper.
\nThere is nothing greater than the
\ndrama of the human body,
\nits desires, indulgences.<\/p>\n
\nmuch that sixth grade
\nscience could not
\naccount for.
\nLupus
\nwas not a model disease, not a
\ndisplay easily shown on brown
\nand pink plastic organs.
\nI embraced the
\nliberties of
\nignorance,
\ndeciphering my disease through its nocturnal
\nwhispers. Pushed by the wind\u2019s
\nwarm muscles, I probed
\nthe orange membranes
\nof streetlamps.
\nI
\ntraced the moon’s breath, lingering on
\nthe black glass of the sky.
\nSix pills spread out in line.
\nHead tilted back, I was grateful
\nfor the silence,
\nfor the empty taste of air.<\/p>\n