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"interns" poems
Dear America, Do not call my generation stupid. We were the first group of kids to learn a computer. Think about that society: A group of kids learned this intricate machine. Yes, I'm talking about the O.G. Apples with the green type where you had to save with a floppy disk and if you put a magnet to the screen it went purple forever. Yes those, same kids grew up and created everything you see before you now. Everyday. Do not call my generation ignorant. In a short time span of years, as children, we learned about oral relations with interns and terrorist attacks. From Clinton's impeachment to the World Trade Centers/Pentagon/Flight93 Somerset. As children we learned; emphasis on the children part. Our minds grew knowledgeable of a world at hand long before society gave us credit. We grew up. Do not call my generation lazy. When we were sixteen and just received our license, gas rose to the highest it had ever been in our country's history. We got underpaid and  disrespected jobs: cleaning up bathrooms and serving your foot-longs. The ability to travel on our own, it was our new found freedom. Like the early travelers roaming new found lands: Our wings were spread. Do not call my generation weak. We are the same group of people who entered college or the workforce with the worst economic fall since the Great Depression. You ask, "What did it do to you?" Buried us in more and more debt until it consumed our life. But, we became enlightened. We majestically thrived in the chaotic times by finding out who we are, what we are capable of and that life will take us our journeys before we even see it coming. The light still shines even when you are buried the deepest. It does not matter what you throw at us next. We will rise and conquer. It's the world's hidden secret. I'm proud to live in this time. I hope you are too. Never giving up is our morale. Respectfully, THE PERENNIAL MILLENNIALS. cc: (No HashTag Necessary)
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Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 8:12 PM UTC
A Letter From The Perennial Millennials
Dear America, Do not call my generation stupid. We were the first group of kids to learn a computer. Think about that society: A group of kids learned this intricate machine. Yes, I'm talking about the O.G. Apples with the green type where you had to save with a floppy disk and if you put a magnet to the screen it went purple forever. Yes those, same kids grew up and created everything you see before you now. Everyday. Do not call my generation ignorant. In a short time span of years, as children, we learned about oral relations with interns and terrorist attacks. From Clinton's impeachment to the World Trade Centers/Pentagon/Flight93 Somerset. As children we learned; emphasis on the children part. Our minds grew knowledgeable of a world at hand long before society gave us credit. We grew up. Do not call my generation lazy. When we were sixteen and just received our license, gas rose to the highest it had ever been in our country's history. We got underpaid and  disrespected jobs: cleaning up bathrooms and serving your foot-longs. The ability to travel on our own, it was our new found freedom. Like the early travelers roaming new found lands: Our wings were spread. Do not call my generation weak. We are the same group of people who entered college or the workforce with the worst economic fall since the Great Depression. You ask, "What did it do to you?" Buried us in more and more debt until it consumed our life. But, we became enlightened. We majestically thrived in the chaotic times by finding out who we are, what we are capable of and that life will take us our journeys before we even see it coming. The light still shines even when you are buried the deepest. It does not matter what you throw at us next. We will rise and conquer. It's the world's hidden secret. I'm proud to live in this time. I hope you are too. Never giving up is our morale. Respectfully, THE PERENNIAL MILLENNIALS. cc: (No HashTag Necessary)
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34
the Himalayas rise there is snow on the peaks I watch it from my bed I gaze and gaze at it in the morning as a little village girl goes by sniffling with cold I too am cold it is chilly here in Tosh in May but a young Israeli boy took off his shirt and stood on the fencepost of the guesthouse dancing down was the deep green valley all of us watched in admiration the next day I went down to the waterfall which from here is a beautiful whisper in the air there are donkeys and a path and pretty houses on the other side of the valley and everywhere there are people smoking hash and relaxing in the cafes and the guesthouses it is almost like a pilgrimage smokers keep coming and sit around smoking talking I pull down my woollen cap my arms and back feel the chill despite a thick sweater despite a blanket and a four inch thick quilt I roll my joints and smoke them alone sometimes smoke them with others I look at the hills and the valleys and the wooden houses I look at the white peaks glowing in the sun and talk about CCR and stained glass art with Michael from Norfolk who’s going down the valley to another village for a party tonight with his young Spanish friend I talk about Bombay with Puneet and Manya from Kanpur who’ve come here on a Bullet Hash Heaven Manya says reading my mind as the joint passes on to the four engineering interns from Delhi and all the time I sip on ginger lemon honey for my sore throat until on the last day it disappears unlike the young Israeli girl’s pink laptop in a pink cover found by the part time caretaker in the garden on a pink chair she left behind last night because it was too dark come again the guesthouse boys say to me as I pay them what a scene I think how cool as I begin to leave the village down the dung-clotted stone steps nodding to the smokers coming in.
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Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 11:13 PM UTC
From My Window Here In Tosh
the Himalayas rise there is snow on the peaks I watch it from my bed I gaze and gaze at it in the morning as a little village girl goes by sniffling with cold I too am cold it is chilly here in Tosh in May but a young Israeli boy took off his shirt and stood on the fencepost of the guesthouse dancing down was the deep green valley all of us watched in admiration the next day I went down to the waterfall which from here is a beautiful whisper in the air there are donkeys and a path and pretty houses on the other side of the valley and everywhere there are people smoking hash and relaxing in the cafes and the guesthouses it is almost like a pilgrimage smokers keep coming and sit around smoking talking I pull down my woollen cap my arms and back feel the chill despite a thick sweater despite a blanket and a four inch thick quilt I roll my joints and smoke them alone sometimes smoke them with others I look at the hills and the valleys and the wooden houses I look at the white peaks glowing in the sun and talk about CCR and stained glass art with Michael from Norfolk who’s going down the valley to another village for a party tonight with his young Spanish friend I talk about Bombay with Puneet and Manya from Kanpur who’ve come here on a Bullet Hash Heaven Manya says reading my mind as the joint passes on to the four engineering interns from Delhi and all the time I sip on ginger lemon honey for my sore throat until on the last day it disappears unlike the young Israeli girl’s pink laptop in a pink cover found by the part time caretaker in the garden on a pink chair she left behind last night because it was too dark come again the guesthouse boys say to me as I pay them what a scene I think how cool as I begin to leave the village down the dung-clotted stone steps nodding to the smokers coming in.
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44
This terribleness. The blur of traffic lights and puddles paints Los Angeles on my face at night. It's so hard to know who will doze in my blind spots. Sunflower seeds and ******* lining the carpet. I sat on the front porch for five hours gutting the wolves from my appendices. Usually the headaches go away with the squashing of the lights. Fluorescents are the worst, halogens second, and 60-watt 120-volt light bulb the bane of my existence. I look at my phone but I cannot summon a quirky 120 character quip. I need excedrin but all I have to grape flavored children's aspirin. I should have asked for the water. How many unfinished glasses of water have I left around this world? Maybe Bruce and I will squash after work. I can hear his weekly catalog of two night stands with those married transient women who drive from Santa B. I hate golf, I could have made carried a career in this resentment. Maybe rolling down the window will alleviate some of this pressure. Maybe it's barometric pressure, The Baby is here in time to drag the houses out to sea. It feels like Michelangelo is carving The David in my head and it's the chiseling I've never wanted. It's Tuesday and the drugs were horrible. They killed five of them today. We wrapped their heads in blankets from the Thrifty, and had to have the interns find clothes that would fit for the Christian caskets. Two days until Giving Thanks Day. I am wrapped in copper and stuck in amber. I am acquitted by nonsense and stipulation, sick with nausea and pushing my forehead into the steering wheel. This is all terrible. The lying I've never told myself. The people that don't even know it's lying. Her and I always seem to escape with our happiness and pleasure in tow. The odds are slim, but our clothes have never fit too tightly.
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Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 2:54 AM UTC
The Neon Alien Blouse
This terribleness. The blur of traffic lights and puddles paints Los Angeles on my face at night. It's so hard to know who will doze in my blind spots. Sunflower seeds and ******* lining the carpet. I sat on the front porch for five hours gutting the wolves from my appendices. Usually the headaches go away with the squashing of the lights. Fluorescents are the worst, halogens second, and 60-watt 120-volt light bulb the bane of my existence. I look at my phone but I cannot summon a quirky 120 character quip. I need excedrin but all I have to grape flavored children's aspirin. I should have asked for the water. How many unfinished glasses of water have I left around this world? Maybe Bruce and I will squash after work. I can hear his weekly catalog of two night stands with those married transient women who drive from Santa B. I hate golf, I could have made carried a career in this resentment. Maybe rolling down the window will alleviate some of this pressure. Maybe it's barometric pressure, The Baby is here in time to drag the houses out to sea. It feels like Michelangelo is carving The David in my head and it's the chiseling I've never wanted. It's Tuesday and the drugs were horrible. They killed five of them today. We wrapped their heads in blankets from the Thrifty, and had to have the interns find clothes that would fit for the Christian caskets. Two days until Giving Thanks Day. I am wrapped in copper and stuck in amber. I am acquitted by nonsense and stipulation, sick with nausea and pushing my forehead into the steering wheel. This is all terrible. The lying I've never told myself. The people that don't even know it's lying. Her and I always seem to escape with our happiness and pleasure in tow. The odds are slim, but our clothes have never fit too tightly.
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3
remember... when you were young, very young, recently untethered from proximal parental strings... that liberated freshman rushing into a .... cave of independent studies and uninhibited sexuality... that mulligan phase of impulse and irrationality and...yes...experimentation... of wide-eyed science interns  with mother's cheeks, daddy's visa and the best animal-testing lab on the planet... with live uncontrolled studies of sleep deprivation, orgiastic tolerance, *** toxicity and the effect of extreme jello-shooting on graduation rates... and, of course, the ultra-rad LUG/GUG philosophy, the ultimate pregnancy-avoidance plan guaranteed or your STD back... then you got a degree, a real job, and a surreal 5-figure student loan balance... or was it 6? or maybe you just dropped out like bill, steve or mark... and started a revolution... ~ P (7/21/2013)
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Jul 21, 2013
Jul 21, 2013 at 3:59 PM UTC
Revolution 101...
Do not call my generation stupid: We were the first group of kids to learn a computer. Think about that society: A group of kids learned this intricate machine. Yes, I'm talking about the O.G. Apples with the green type where you had to save with a floppy disk and if you put a magnet to the screen it went purple forever. Yes those. And those same kids grew up and created everything you see before you now. Everyday. Do not call my generation ignorant: In a short time span of years as children we learned about oral relations with interns and terrorist attacks. From Clinton's impeachment to the World Trade Centers/Pentagon/Flight93 Somerset. As children we learned; emphasis on the children part. Our minds grew knowledgeable of a world at hand long before society gave us credit. We grew up. Do not call my generation lazy: When we were sixteen and just received our license, gas rose to the highest it had ever been in our country's history. So, we got underpaid & disrespected jobs at Dairy Queen and Subways across the land cleaning up bathrooms and serving your foot-longs. Yet, it was for our new found freedom. The ability to travel on our own. Like the early travelers roaming new found lands, our wings were spread. Do not call my generation weak: We are the same group of people who entered college or the workforce with the worst economic fall since the Great Depression. And what did it do to us you ask? Bury us in more and more debt until it consumed our life. But, we became enlightened. We majestically thrived in the chaotic times by finding out who we are, what we are capable of and that life will take us our journeys before we even see it coming. The light still shines even when you are buried the deepest. It does not matter what you throw at us next. We will rise and conquer. It's the world's hidden secret. I'm proud to live in this time. I hope you are too. Make someone's life better today.
0
Nov 22, 2013
Nov 22, 2013 at 10:37 AM UTC
Talkin' Bout My Generation:
Do not call my generation stupid: We were the first group of kids to learn a computer. Think about that society: A group of kids learned this intricate machine. Yes, I'm talking about the O.G. Apples with the green type where you had to save with a floppy disk and if you put a magnet to the screen it went purple forever. Yes those. And those same kids grew up and created everything you see before you now. Everyday. Do not call my generation ignorant: In a short time span of years as children we learned about oral relations with interns and terrorist attacks. From Clinton's impeachment to the World Trade Centers/Pentagon/Flight93 Somerset. As children we learned; emphasis on the children part. Our minds grew knowledgeable of a world at hand long before society gave us credit. We grew up. Do not call my generation lazy: When we were sixteen and just received our license, gas rose to the highest it had ever been in our country's history. So, we got underpaid & disrespected jobs at Dairy Queen and Subways across the land cleaning up bathrooms and serving your foot-longs. Yet, it was for our new found freedom. The ability to travel on our own. Like the early travelers roaming new found lands, our wings were spread. Do not call my generation weak: We are the same group of people who entered college or the workforce with the worst economic fall since the Great Depression. And what did it do to us you ask? Bury us in more and more debt until it consumed our life. But, we became enlightened. We majestically thrived in the chaotic times by finding out who we are, what we are capable of and that life will take us our journeys before we even see it coming. The light still shines even when you are buried the deepest. It does not matter what you throw at us next. We will rise and conquer. It's the world's hidden secret. I'm proud to live in this time. I hope you are too. Make someone's life better today.
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12
I Brandon Amberger accept #TheChallenge This is not a request nor demand, it is a challenge. This challenge is to be the better person and to take responsibility for your actions. To swallow your pride so that instead of arguing you choose to shut your mouth, do the right thing, and get the job done. To simply follow the principle "treat others, how you would like to be treated" I'll tell you why you should accept my challenge. It's to set an example and improve our future for our kids. If you don't have kids, you do it for your family's kids and your friends' kids. Everyone deserves the same chance. For those of you who have influence, you have higher expectations. Why? You have power and with power comes responsibility. So I’m challenging the CEO’s, the interns, students, actresses, lawyers, foreman, electricians, bus-boy, waitress, teachers, children, the parents, and everyone alive to accept. I really, really hope you become a challenger. For those of you who do accept, there is no punishment, nor reward. Just gratuity for doing the right thing. Now do you accept the challenge?
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Apr 22, 2016
Apr 22, 2016 at 10:45 PM UTC
I accept the Challenge
To Whom it May Concern, My blood begins to burn and I’m compelled to spurn the current plans to turn our mascot to a worm. The members from my firm cannot stay taciturn when our alumni learn that strangers overturned the past we had governed because they’re all stubborn, seeking to be modern and spread, exploit and churn their folly and their germs. I urge you to discern the consequence you’ll earn unless you can confirm our legacy long-term. We will not adjourn until it’s reaffirmed that history is stern and keeps our old pattern. If you do not concur and submit to our terms, then surely you will yearn for courtesy interns as funding will downturn and we will watch you squirm like spiders in an urn at the point of no return. Sincerely, Dr. Kern
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Jan 11, 2020
Jan 11, 2020 at 12:37 PM UTC
Spirit Murderers
"Remember your eights," He grandly announced, Intently surveying his interns. "If your work appears beyond you Negotiate, Delegate Or work late." I stared rabbit-eyed, Stunned by his smug, well-worn rhyme, As I saw my evenings fade away Knowing which of my numbers was up.
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Aug 17, 2016
Aug 17, 2016 at 9:10 AM UTC
Internment
who wants another Clinton in the White House to have another one would be akin to a verminous mouse when William Jefferson was there he'd feel up the young interns which bought a smell of ********** to the White House's ferns now Hilary the old nag wants to be the commander in chief with her in the position America would be bound for much grief those persons in America who've an iota of common sense shall never let another Clinton reside behind the White House fence scandals aplenty are ever trailing the Clinton name as they've a reputation for playing a most shameful game
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Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
The White House and The Clintons
That Donald Trump  is President shows that      some people don't know what the President actually does;  including Trump - -                       Miss America's                           higher moral standards                           makes her more qualified;                                                                              &c.                           her academic achievements                           not dependent on backroom                           kickbacks & payoffs;                                                                               her                                       |                natural look **** & healthy; |[                           ], (           ) she won't allow  war,    |       just won't have it; u don't want to see her angry: ***** for               [everybody:   corporate industrial fat cats         & their anorexic third   wives             sitting on candy |     clouds      of pollution                               | in the college-town [       ] hills behind | hidden electric gates]                  casino-resorts & winning Lotto tickets;            [swimsuit] & beauty pageants for all    ages including                great-grandmothers                 & ghosts; mermaid fairs,      toddlers in thongs   &      naked men; picnics & balloons - just what does the President do? besides play golf & finger willing interns; baking cookies b/c she can |
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Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 6:38 PM UTC
Ms. President America
That Donald Trump  is President shows that      some people don't know what the President actually does;  including Trump - -                       Miss America's                           higher moral standards                           makes her more qualified;                                                                              &c.                           her academic achievements                           not dependent on backroom                           kickbacks & payoffs;                                                                               her                                       |                natural look **** & healthy; |[                           ], (           ) she won't allow  war,    |       just won't have it; u don't want to see her angry: ***** for               [everybody:   corporate industrial fat cats         & their anorexic third   wives             sitting on candy |     clouds      of pollution                               | in the college-town [       ] hills behind | hidden electric gates]                  casino-resorts & winning Lotto tickets;            [swimsuit] & beauty pageants for all    ages including                great-grandmothers                 & ghosts; mermaid fairs,      toddlers in thongs   &      naked men; picnics & balloons - just what does the President do? besides play golf & finger willing interns; baking cookies b/c she can |
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36
piano keys dance slowly as the smoke curls gently around gnarled fingers holding the fate of nations mindlessly fidgety interns wait for orders secretly regretting promoting military service rooms full of children interested and in-tune signing up to die – blankly looking at the clipboard experiencing wetness in the corner of distraught eyes visions of burning children and screaming mothers entire cultures blinked from existence once again sits at the forefront of options no longer dissuaded by position the smallest sound escapes pursed lips echoing forever in the void – crimson rivers cascade down suburban streets the sins of the youth collide with the aggression of the infirm and treachery once again rules the world placeless faces taste rusty train cars the ovens still work, even if they are museum pieces – daybreak beckons and broken bearded ******** bent on beguiling those beneath themselves barter for breadcrumbs billing services and buttering palms sit atop fanciful castles waiting for the next royalty check ……the invention of war still is prosperous in the right families –
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Jan 16, 2015
Jan 16, 2015 at 10:14 PM UTC
family tree
the kitchen counter has been disinfected we don't have interns here they didn't clean it because there is nothing to promise them i am truly afraid to have children not because i know they will grow up it is because they will grow up and they will hate me but because it is too easy to see that there is nothing left for them its pathetic and easy to forget our victories the value of the scent in your hair that soothes me i ruin it, potentially
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Dec 26, 2015
Dec 26, 2015 at 1:41 AM UTC
Untitled
Sudden death came to me this hour. I expected to die but not this moment: When I am on the height of my prime, my family celebrates my promotion, my nurse son just turned regular staff, my daughter is second year college today, my grandson attended his first day in school, so much good things I had to witness and feel glad! My colleague would give an eulogy for me: my boss will speak of my contributions to the office, my assistant would be saying how I lead by example, my interns would remember how kind I taught them, my mentors would mention how cooperative I am, others would mention I gave them acrostic poems, over-all they would say I am a good person and talented. My family would be teary eyed to gave their individual eulogy: my mother would be first to say "she loves me very much" my father would not say much but agree to my mom's testimony, my brothers and sisters would say how much I cared for them, my wife would seconded my mom's emotional statement , my children would surely say " We will miss you daddy" But, if i could answer them all from where I lay now I will say to them " I am not perfect, I just did what any good mortal person does"
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Jun 5, 2015
Jun 5, 2015 at 4:18 AM UTC
On My Wake ( Own Eulogy)
Rock And Roll Memoir It was too **** loud I never liked Bobo our first drummer or was he the third? The riffs? Stolen. Lyrics written by a callow youth still torment me to this day like a s w a r m of b e e s My obituary a bit of boilerplate written by interns at Rolling Stone lays waiting patiently for the call. I don’t remember in any particular order the origin of the band name the outcomes of the lawsuits what happened in Houston penning “Love Carburetor” on the bare *** of a groupie named Skyyy writing a song cycle about the Laps riding in ambulances limos helicopters or punching Bill Graham on the sidewalk in front of the Fillmore East. If you say we played Farm Aid twice, well I guess you would know. I can’t **** standing up or hear a word you’re saying and my doctor says we must get a handle on my liver before we think about replacing my knees hips corneas heart and lungs. But I’m booked to a ten night stand at the Beacon with the New York Philharmonic performing our first album in its entirety with our original bassist Ian somebody or other plus interviews on Fresh Air and Morning Joe to promote a concert film by Jim Jarmusch.
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Sep 20, 2016
Sep 20, 2016 at 7:47 AM UTC
Rock and Roll Memoir
Sudden death came to me this hour. I expected to die but not this moment: When I am on the height of my prime, my family celebrates my promotion, my nurse son just turned regular staff, my daughter is second year college today, my grandson attended his first day in school, so much good things I had to witness and feel glad! My colleague would give an eulogy for me: my boss will speak of my contributions to the office, my assistant would be saying how I lead by example, my interns would remember how kind I taught them, my mentors would mention how cooperative I am, others would mention I gave them acrostic poems, over-all they would say I am a good person and talented. My family would be teary eyed to gave their individual eulogy: my mother would be first to say "she loves me very much" my father would not say much but agree to my mom's testimony, my brothers and sisters would say how much I cared for them, my wife would seconded my mom's emotional statement , my children would surely say " We will miss you daddy" But, if i could answer them all from where I lay now I will say to them " I am not perfect, I just did what any good mortal person does"
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Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 12:47 AM UTC
On My Wake
Dedicated to Medical Laboratory Scientists Interns) Togetherness is a bonding fond blissful occasion to share the fun in all the challenges we hold stance as e act in unison to better enhance As interns we learn together easy or difficult we don't falter for as long as we do our very best and carry on to pass all technical test Clinical Microscopy is an exciting phase among others we study in constant pace for us all to develop the indispensable skills as we engage in the future professional deals In the advent of full automation we all have to be adept with caution in performing our specific responsibilities best we can as Medical Laboratory Scientists Now we depart the portal of training as we leave to advance in our learning harness professionalism as finest tradition as sirs Marvin and Alejo exemplified in action Wish you the luck our best interns be vigilant as you all walk the trends and do not forget to pray for guidance God grants you success in every instance
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Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
Onward To Success