Richard M. Berlin, MD

The holidays may be over, but Richard Berlin, MD, is still spreading holiday cheer with his poem, "The One."

is an instructor in psychiatry, University of Massachusetts Medical School, Worcester.

Videos

Walking on water might just be possible...

The Miracle of Skating

-from the photograph “Stark Tree, 1956,”
by Wynn Bullock

Fall arrived too early, swamp maples ablaze
in August, Summer Rose apples withered
by drought, smoke from California fires graying
Berkshire sky to winter, and two hundred thousand

of us killed by virus, our landscape as foreign
as Bullock’s silhouettes of two hills and a valley
filled with moonlit fog, one stark tree
in the foreground, tortured limbs

and spiny black branches, a vulture’s nest
woven into the highest fork, threatening sky
with a faceless full moon glowing through a cloud
contorted like the tree, mist riding wind

with its damp smell of decay, inhuman
forces hard at work in their own time and place.
-Richmond, Massachusetts, 9/22/20

 has been writing a poem about his experience of being a doctor every month for the past 23 years in 

 in a column called “Poetry of the Times.” He is instructor in psychiatry, University of Massachusetts Medical School, Worcester, MA. ❒

Articles

A faceless full moon glowing through a cloud, contorted like the tree . . .  

Two Hundred Thousand

Richard Berlin, MD, shares poetry by Margaret Walker discussing her Southern roots. 

"O Southland, sorrow home, melody beating in my bone and blood!"

Deep Roots and Sorrow

Richard Berlin, MD, takes us on a vacation with poetry from Wendell Berry.

Let poetry transport you on a vacation, since COVID-19 prevented summer travel. 

The Vacation We Did Not Get

And Jesus was a sailor when he walked upon the water.

circle the lake, bonfire smoke in the air,

for the one skater in every crowd who glides

graceful as a god, like my father years ago

in his black leather racing skates, long blades

grabbing ice when he tucked low and tight,

left arm behind his back, right arm beating

time as he carved heavenly arcs, disciples

sailing fast in his draft as they followed.

And since it is Christmas, my eyes search

on the Sea of Galilee without needing water

in a prayer shawl like my father’s and chanted

the Sh’mah. I can see them skating together,

my father’s red scarf, Jesus’ tunic a shiver

of light as they mirror each other’s form,

an ache in their ankles, their joy of speed

Blade tips catch and knees kiss ice, my eyes searching for the one skater in every crowd who glides graceful as a god,

The One

You can read Ada Limón's poem, A New National Anthem, 

has been writing a poem about his experience of being a doctor every month for the past 23 years in

in a column called "Poetry of the Times." He is Instructor in Psychiatry, University of Massachusetts Medical School, Worcester, MA.

This poem contemplates the National Anthem... is it a good song? 

The Unsung Stanzas

Richard Berlin, MD, shares poetry from Billy Collins about the death toll of the pandemic. In this poem, Collins writes the names of lost friends on the flip side of the grocery list. 

Poet Billy Collins writes the names of friends lost to COVID-19 on the back of his grocery list. 

Flip Side of the Grocery List

I don’t expect punishment or prizes
for my work with violent boys in court-ordered care,
though I’ve been accused of experimenting
on them like they’re dogs, which reminds me
of Dr. Pavlov and the pack of thirty-five mutts
he taught to respond to bells and music,
his notebooks filled with love for each one,
especially little Druzok, Russian for best friend.

But Pavlov’s dogs and his century-old Nobel
hold no interest for the mother crying on my phone—
a judge says her son meets criteria for discharge,
and she begs me to keep him until he’s eighteen,
two more years sheltered from street gangs
she fears will eat him alive. And I share her fear
because I know what happened to Pavlov’s dogs—
World War II, Leningrad starved by a three-year
Nazi siege, a million dead, food supplies bombed
into dust, a police unit formed to fight cannibalism,
Druzok, Bailak, Murashka, and Rex ripped
from their cages, warm hearts and bloody flesh
devoured, paws gnawed down to bone.

is an instructor in psychiatry, University of Massachusetts Medical School, Worcester, MA.

A mother begs the court to keep her son incarcerated for fear street gangs will eat him alive.

Discharge Planning

"First you'll come to the end of the freeway..."

Richard Berlin, MD, encourages you to think about the direction of your life as he reads a poem by 

Connie Wanek. Her newest book of poetry, 

It may feel hard to find our way during the COVID-19 pandemic. Try and reflect on the direction your life is heading in right now. 

Drive On

Richard Berlin, MD, reminisces on his experience at a baseball game. Do you have musings of your own about the last live sporting event you attended? Share with us on Twitter 

Professional sports have hobbled on during COVID-19. What memories do you have of in-person sporting events?