Materia Poetica

Materia Poetica: Homeopathy in Verse

Materia Poetica: Homeopathy in Verse

Dr. Sylvia Seroussi Chatroux’s first book, Materia Poetica comprises 101 original poems on homeopathic remedies. Many of the poems are illustrated with antique woodcuts of the plants from which the remedies are derived.

With a combination of humor, imagination, and careful research, Sylvia has taken a poetic snapshot of each remedy, incorporating its indications and effects into the whimsical lines. Homeopathy is at its essence a “healing art,” and nothing captures that art more elegantly that Sylvia Chatroux’s unique volume of poetry Materia Poetica.

Product Details

Hardback | $20 + shipping & handling (current Priority Flat Rate charges apply)

Small, elegant volume bound in green cloth with gold leaf lettering

Includes a satin ribbon bookmark

Order Copies

You may purchase copies directly from Poetica Press by calling 541.482.7047.


Materia Poetica takes the highlights and small points of homeopathic remedies and turns them into unforgettable portraits that beg to be read out loud.Deborah Gordon, MD, Homeopathic Physician, Ashland, OR
Materia Poetica is engagingly instructive, a fun way to grasp the intricacies of homeopathic medicine.Gloria Schwartz, ND, Naturopathic & Homeopathic Physician, Ashland, OR
The poems are lively, fun, unpretentious, and full of humor, just like Sylvia.Willa Esterson, CCH, Homeopathic Physician & Instructor, Santa Cruz, CA
Sylvia has managed to include most of the major keynotes of each remedy while the poems read with a lively zest and humor that is thoroughly charming.Nancy Herrick, MA, PA, Homeopathic Physician & Cofounder of Hahnemann College of Homeopathy & Hahnemann Clinic, Berkeley, CA

Sample Poems


If you ever bang your head
And get what’s called an egg
Bruised with black and blue
Or you should sprain your leg
If you’re feeling kind of sore
From bonks or rusty limbs
You’ve overdone the marathon
Or took too long a swim
Or perhaps there was a trauma
You claimed that you were well
You sent the doctor far away
And the rest of us to hell
You never did recover
You’ve never been the same
The bed feels way too hard
Healing’s not your game
In brief, you’re bruised and cranky
And you feel all beaten up
Arnica will come in handy
Put it in your cup


Oh Camphora, freezing cold
the utter chill of you
I’ve seen you throw the covers off
Your face an icy blue
When cholera was on the rise
you earned your claim to fame
’Twas Hahnemann who did prescribe
And many learned your name
The patients didn’t drop as flies
You shone just like the sun
The allopaths you did surprise
In 1831
You’re good for shock
You fear the dark
A restlessness indeed
Where life meets death
With chilly breath
Your pulse a dying seed
I’ll think of you when I see blue
In those so freezing cold
Whose face is wrinkled old
And hopefully before collapse
The pulse a weakened thread
I’ll have the sense to mention you
Before the ill are dead.


Nervous system overload
Jerking, her birthright
Zincum spasms into seize
Restless legs both day and night
Here’s a remedy of Ore
Likes a job well done
Born with too much energy
She snaps at everyone
If you suppress her natural flow
It’s certain she’ll fall ill
Feels attacked it may not show
That’s why she can’t sit still
Delusion she is poisoned
Pursued and hunted down
I would not offer her some wine
It’s sure to cause a frown
Thoughts of suicide encroach
And become a welcomed friend
Actually it gives her hope
And discharge in the end
Don’t cover up her blemishes
Mess up her monthly bleed
Suppression of her outlets
Could surely make her seize
And all this pent up energy
That she can bare contain
Burns out as mental dullness
And Zincum does complain.

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