Student poetry competition winners honored at scholarship luncheon
Pictured left to right Miranda Schene, Brooks Jackson, dean of the Carver College of Medicine, Allyson Merfeld, and Marshall Moyer
The University of Iowa is often regarded as “the Writing University” because of its world-renowned Iowa Writers’ Workshop, but an appreciation and commitment to great writing is evident across the entire UI campus—including the Carver College of Medicine.
The college’s Writing and Humanities Program offers elective courses and activities that focus on the humanistic and creative aspects of medicine and medical education. The program also provides consultation and assistance to students preparing their written personal statements for residency interviews or developing research papers or abstracts.
The Writing and Humanities Program also oversees the Humanities Distinction Track, which is designed to encourage and support students interested in scholarship and learning opportunities in creative writing, philosophy, visual arts, social sciences, and related topics.
This fall, with the support of an anonymous donor’s gift, the Carver College of Medicine held a poetry competition for students in the MD, PT (physical therapy), and PA (physician assistant) programs. Three of the competition’s entrants were honored Oct. 17 at the college’s annual scholarship luncheon. First-place ($400), second-place ($300), and third-place ($200) scholarship prizes were awarded and will be applied to the students’ tuition, fees, or academic travel.
Allyson Merfeld
Allyson Merfeld, a student in the Physical Therapy and Rehabilitation Science Program, was awarded the top prize for her poem, “Ability”:
Together we grew up
We played, painted, and illustrated
Discriminated, I did not
You walked and looked a bit differently
Due to the disability
But you and I, me and you
Sisters was all we knew to be true
Then came the world It pointed out and indicated
Concentrated
On the differences between us
Separating us I took a step back and contemplated
Feeling frustrated In my mind I debated
Because today, it is constantly stated,
“Be equal and fair”
That’s what they say
Yet lengths of stairs keep people away
Looked around, saw no accommodations
A separation between destinations
So complicated
Navigating through racks in malls
Through the bathroom stalls
So aggravated
To everyone else, it’s so automated
It’s time I stand up and advocated
So each one of us is accommodated
No one is alienated
Everyone is celebrated
Marshall Moyer
Marshall Moyer, a fourth-year MD student, earned second place honors for his poem, “The Curtain”:
elusive Mind; hidden, distant
lost beyond the formless deep
beloved brother, husband, father
lying still, as if asleep
failed Cognition; left in ruins
seismograph of neural waves
zigg-ed peaks and zagg-ed valleys
shifted like tectonic plates
distraught Family; watching, waiting
languish in the sinking sand
heartbeat returned, without a soul
leaves no ground on which to stand
fiercest Love; untamed, unmeasured
grief becoming inquisition
“You pay Hippocrates lip service,
oath, or imposition?
gathered Knowledge; bells and whistles,
Constant beeping of machines
On the shoulders of your giants
Still no further, have you seen!”
wearied Hope; feeble, frantic
pleads with the Hand that gives and takes
unanswered prayers fall back to earth
my God, my God, do not forsake!
extinguished Life, one story ended
and though we remain uncertain,
I hope a miracle did come,
on his side of the curtain.
Miranda Schene
Miranda Schene, a second-year MD/PhD student in the college’s Medical Scientist Training Program, received the third-place award for her poem, “Change”:
Change comes like a thunderstorm.
First the wind shifts
And the leaves start shaking.
Then the clouds slowly roll in,
And the rhythm of the world slows
as it crawls into hiding,
ready to weather the storm.
The first drop falls.
Then one becomes many
The storm arrives, rises and builds,
And batters the now-empty world.
But change does not pass like a thunderstorm.
When the storm clears, the world returns to normal.
It wakes up, and its rhythm returns.
But you never returned, old friend.
The rains came and went, and the clouds rolled back on a world without you.
That pause, our last good day,
Hoping the storm would slow its approach.
And now the storm has passed
And I must wait alone
For the rhythm to return.