"internship" poems
Where buses still elapse with Time
Down straight Dame Street
The Trees are satellites that allow Children to look up
and let the pavement breath.
Earthen Columns that gate the Boombox Clubhouse tint
Flanked by the Yeoman Guards of Hollister
but forget to pay the same compliment
outside of American Apparel
Where Teenagers dream out fantasies
of lamp-lit, flash-shot
worship-worthy objectification
in a converted loft in the real New York
Their headphones spring streams of bright optimism
as they cradle knitted knee-high socks.
Take the curve round Trinity College
and laugh past the rumours
that it may soon float on Dow Jones
and dodge past the charity advertisers
Strutting over campbags of sleeping homeless
to Lemon Cafe for an overpriced Mocha
Which regardless deflates the sheen-covered hollowness
of green-comfy Starbucks
and learn the subtleties of speaking lightly
to dark-jaceketed Blonde girls
Whose eyes seem to sparkle "Yes, we have sipped
on Veuve Clicquot at reserved tables on Graduation nights
at Cafe En Seine"
-"Where Oscar Wilde might have drank"
- "..Had he been alive."
Then speculate on the best Festivals and whose
Films and Books are over-hyped and under-appreciated
and the after-College Gossip on who broke-up or stayed together
or who hooked up even though they shouldn't have
or regretted it
and who's doing a paid internship and who's moving abroad
and afterwards charmingly tease their superficial attitudes
as meanwhile they secretly take photos
to upload on Instagram
and later you'll fake-admonish them
for how they did this behind your back
while you were staring into the lake
in St. Stephen's Green.
When the moon no longer glazed the water
and had receded its contrast to the farthest grass
and you decide to take the last bus home.
Throughout
Caution Glints The Vowels
and Brands them too.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 10:11 AM UTC
Medical Technologist you will be by next year,
As you do your best part then success is near.
Realization of your life's dream is not impossible,
Zealous dedication is what you do to make it possible.
Act now be a keen diligent intern to claim your victory!
Dawn has sparked so make the most of the opportunity,
Accept the challenges don't quit fight all the negativity.
Winning is not easy to achieve as it requires determination,
Nobody but yourself alone can justify for your own action.
Plan for your future and do it with the highest attention,
Insure that whatever outcome will help realize your ambition.
Zest you have will inspire you to perform well with integrity,
Allow no negative vibes to degrade your courage and dignity.
React professionally to whatever trials that may come your way,
On whatever duties you do always follow the protocol don't sway.
Be tactful in your actions follow laboratory protocols,
Read and understand fully the procedures before using the tools.
Avoid mistakes in running the tests so you won't give false results,
To the patient's doctor such act is a taboo and you will get insults.
On to your internship my darling do your best and make us all proud.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 12:47 AM UTC
i never bought the whole dark academia thing.
sure, ****** and drugs and *** are torrid and dark when you're from a rich family,
when you've never woken up to the news of your childhood best friend being shot to death,
when you haven't seen your family and friends fall into the seductive cesspool of opioid addiction,
when half of your class was pregnant by the time senior year rolled around.
the academic upper class thinks what working class kids go through is sexier when the backdrop of the overdose is chandeliers and silk,
instead of a small town parking lot at 3am.
my aesthetic reality of academia is scholarships, it's leather jackets and nicotine addictions
it's having the only fifteen-year-old car in the campus parking lot and hoping to find a plug before the first week of classes.
it's not sleeping between work and class and partying. it's being the only one whose dad isn't buddies with the guy giving me an internship.
it's lonely. it's the crippling loneliness of not understanding upper class social cues,
it's reading crime and punishment in the slivers of time between work and work and class and more work
and emphasizing with raskalnikov so much it makes your teeth ache.
it's coughing up blood.
it's having health insurance for the first time in college and still not using it.
it's drowning, it's fighting, it's violent and heroic and painful and
never knowing
if you'll actually
make it.
Jul 30, 2020
Jul 30, 2020 at 8:33 PM UTC
I applied for an internship at The Hunting Channel
The opportunity was pointed out to me by my aunt
I only applied for it to make her happy
She is pretty old and doesn't have any kids
She has always told me that one I should be meaner and that two I need to eat four times a day
Dark purple pony with the bright green braids you rock my world
May you be blessed by the deity of your choice
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 8:34 PM UTC
I envy those who find their calling in life
To touch an object and know that its right
Maybe an instrument or pen melt your heart
Ive finally found my natural work of art
Finding a company to work for I long desire
A year long internship followed by hire
I've found my calling that sparked my heart
But its in Austin, Texas states apart..
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 3:45 PM UTC
Found a job even before graduation day
GPA: 3.779
"My God thats so sublime!"
"You obviously spent a lot of time studying and working hard, your such a good student"
Freshmen year, what should I study?
Environmental science or environmental policy?
Gear towards engineering or develop a philosophy...
Probably, eventually, something that applies to me, it needs to be just right for me, yes... a job thats ideal for me...
My god help me, this is ******* insanity, I have to increase my probability of getting paid for doing an accepted activity that specializes my mental ability but allows me to continue developing my creativity but I honestly don't know what is right for me !
Sophomore year, **** it.
lets have some fun college is nowhere near done,
I'll study this ******** I'm learning and hunt for any desires I'm yearning.
I'll take a break from you just to see what I can do, its okay because I'll always still love you.
I'll take this internship now, take a break from college
come back home, wow, this ***** I really miss college.
Well I'm home now for 7 months, I guess I'll come back to you
I know I'm confusing, I'm sorry.
Junior Year, what the **** happened here the end is so ******* near
Its time to put everything on overdrive
I'm going to gear up and buckle up because it may be a bumpy ride
Senior Year, okay its ending. Maybe I should end us too.
I keep doing so good. I'm writing an honors thesis now. I presented. My work was published. I got a B plus... I got a job... I'm not your boyfriend anymore. How come my words stopped rhyming?
Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
Graduating college
Such a large accomplishment
That's what they all say
He has a job lined up
She's had an internship
Full of experience
I, on the other hand,
Am just me
What do I have
Other than my brain
Other than my grades
Sure, I've lived life
But while everybody seems to have a plan
And seems to be moving in the right direction
I keep moving further into the ground
Isolated and lost
Unable to move
Trapped under the dirt that is
My mind, my insecurities, my confusion
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 11:15 PM UTC
one of my daughter's young friends
confided a blessed event last summer
I decided to make the bundle of joy
a quilt to keep forever
I cut the blocks out
in October
the baby made her appearance
in December
the blocks haven't sewed themselves
together yet
maybe soon
the family is traveling south
for the summer
an internship
hopefully I will be inspired
to do the sewing soon
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 1:28 PM UTC
No time to sleep.
Too broke to eat.
Into my books
I start to weep.
Said I could be
anything:
Go out! Go forth!
Chase your dreams!
Except I ****
at calculus,
and who the hell
is Romulus?
I need two jobs
to pay the rent;
An exponential
growth of debt.
They say, "go get
an internship,"
but with pre-reqs
I'm not equipped.
Need to study,
everyday--
'less I throw
my whole life away!
Volunteer!
Try something new!
Stop giving me
more things to do!
I'm up to my knees.
My waist. My chin!
Not sure if I
know how to swim.
Will this ordeal
ever desist?
Or I am going to
die like this?
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 1:40 PM UTC
Summer was a sunset of
fiery oranges and pinks that
demanded to be seen.
A cascade of sexist phisophical texts was
the only constant admist
internship talks, a
wavering appetite for
electronic poetry, and the sight of
distant fireworks through a
tinted bus window.
In between the screaming pain in
six dozen muscle fibers,
I entertained a
whirlwind of friends from
elementary, middle, and high school with café talks and bar trivia, and returned home, alone in the
early hours of the new day,
to dictate fervent writings onto a
screen of shatted glass.
Feb 27, 2019
Feb 27, 2019 at 9:55 AM UTC
I hope the new year,
will be a little easier than the last one,
and gets you some more sleep and even more of mom's food,
gets your room messier and home, happier,
lets you see a rainbow, and mom lets you play in the rain,
helps you find that internship or the job that sets your soul on fire,
or gets you into that school.
I hope over the next year you,
are invited to that party and have someone to go with,
meet some amazing new people, who share the same the emotions towards those mere things in life as you,
finally get to learn skate-boarding or go trekking,
see that old friend from school and get to spend some good time together,
never run out of coffee and smiles,
save enough to buy that guitar,
receive a better gift from Secret Santa.
I hope in the upcoming year you,
edit that draft,
find a publisher for your first novel,
discover your true calling,
create that Youtube channel and keep working for it,
read some good books and donate some,
travel more and grow into yourself,
drink plenty of water, and your skin gets softer,
don't give that person too much of you, who deserves none. don't carry your insecurities along from the past,
become some more self-aware and find time for yourself,
love yourself a little more and never lose hope.
Dec 25, 2018
Dec 25, 2018 at 10:42 AM UTC
Enjoy it while you can
they say
These next 4 years are going to fly by
and they did
-Join a club
-Do an internship
-Make friends
-Write a resume, cover letter
-Fall in love
-Apply for jobs
-Do something crazy
-Build your professional portfolio
-Socialize for hours
-Find a grad school
they say "it's the college experience"
Is it the college experience to feel
Underappreciated and Overworked?
Elated and Devastated?
Accomplished and Incompetent?
It never feels like it's enough
no, I never feel like I'm enough
I've spent hours staring at a screen
Either in class or at home, it doesn't matter
I scrolled through so many blogposts and jobposts
Applied to countless positions and internships
All for nothing
"What's the best way to do college?"
is the question I'm constantly asking myself
and anyone who will listen that might have the answers
"What am I doing wrong?"
how can so many people have accomplished so much
before I've even made a name for myself
my 21 credit semester
my double major
my additional minor
my 6 semesters of straight A's
my 2-year executive board position
my part-time minimum wage job
Were they all not enough? What am I doing wrong?
Why can't I find even an unpaid internship?
Despite my exhaustive efforts,
and I do mean exhaustive, full burn-out
I still see people
people who have done way less, tried way less
with full rides, wonderful internships and jobs right out of college.
None of it is fair.
And I have nothing to show for it.
So has this just been 4 wasted years?
What can I make of myself in the real world,
with nothing to show for my college career?
Jun 16, 2020
Jun 16, 2020 at 7:08 PM UTC
The harshest truth about unrequited love is
when all is done and dusted
hands washed
rejection accepted
there is nothing left.
All the talk about memories made,
to have loved and lost than not love at all,
to have made a friend forever,
*is a load of ******** to be honest,*
like your puppy who was sent to a big, happy farm in the country side,
like Santa Claus,
like telling yourself in the mirror over and over again "you are over him. you are happy".
So when he's sat cross legged on your bed calculating the final chess move to checkmate with a devilish look in the eye,
limping around on a sprained ankle after football,
explaining how light works,
cutting an extra large pizza into four and folding each quarter in half before devouring it,
moving close to show a ******* star pattern only he can see,
giving a pair of God **** gloves for Christmas cause your favourite pair was lost on a night out in October,
always lighting your cigarette first,
casually mentioning over dinner how he might move to Belgium next spring for an internship,
you have no say. You have no right to feel.
You have no right to say how you feel.
So you pretend,
admiring the ******* star patterns you could never see in the first place,
acting tensed when he hugs,
congratulating him on the amazing job opportunity taking extra care to make sure your smile is wide and reaches your eyes.
You pretend,
putting to use 16 years of professional drama training,
regardless of having an out-of-body experience each time he does something that takes your breath away,
where you watch yourself crumble to the floor, face flat, gasping for air, one hand on the chest and the other over the mouth,
while you stand strong, smoking and smiling,
listening to him talk about electricity, FIFA or something,
all while watching yourself die, from the corner of your eye.
Unrequited love is superbly overrated,
by poets, artists, writers and all those who have loved and lost.
In reality it's a simple phenomenon which drives one to the mental intersection of insanity, self-destruction and creativity,
caused by a sense of ownership one feels towards another which is nonexistent, not reciprocated, not mutual and really ****** up.
So really don't get up or stand up,
infact don't even bother to feel,
cause you really have no rights...
Dec 19, 2015
Dec 19, 2015 at 2:35 PM UTC
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Oct 21, 2015
Oct 21, 2015 at 3:12 AM UTC
Freddie was a satyr
And I wanted to worship
And serve him naked
Then serve my internship
For the rest of my life
Hopelessly dedicated
To be like Ulysses' wife;
Enraptured, captured, mated.
That’s how highly he rated.
I know out of the lights
He spent nights between
Debauchery and hell
But few seemed to tell.
They just came and screamed
Blind to what seemed to be
Too much perfectionality
In his personality to be reality.
Like so many I knew then
He was above other men, a god
And fascinated with his codpiece,
We salaamed, and slammed down
Big bucks for tickets to go see
Life much bigger than me, and squee
And clap and whistle, this missile
From the gods to gays and straights
Who could see and her he was great
And we were all there, grateful.
It was painful when he left, even though
We knew why and we still know, yet
He was too wonderful to forget
And shirk and scorn because he was born
To be a ****** miracle and musical gift
That time and death could not lift
Out of the pantheon of stage kings
And queens, if that is not too mean.
But how could it be, they were Queen
And they changed the scene.
Oct 26, 2017
Oct 26, 2017 at 4:29 PM UTC
I know it’s long since we talked,
You live under my skin that I know,
You don’t get a reason for a letter, right?
That’s what they call love though,
The last time we talked….
I know twas’ an “agreement” tf!
But I really miss you,
Hold on hold on…you’re breaking me,
My life is completely a cycle, with an arc of you☺
You’re completely a part of me,
Sometimes I feel like I found my soul mate in you,
Reason why I didn’t go for my internship,
Reason why I slept watching Netflix,
Reason why my parents call me naughty,
Baby, I can’t type it all,☹
Life would be incomplete if I didn’t give this,
It’s a letter to you☺
Jul 13, 2018
Jul 13, 2018 at 3:38 AM UTC
Towards the end of the internship
I was nervous and under pressure
I didn't get the job in the end
I wondered if all the good things
The things you said about me
The 85% on my final evalutation
The two 90's and an 80%
Were all a lie
Was I untalented?
Did I do or say something?
You are serious as I greet you
With an open heart
And watched yours close before me
The smiles, hugs and handshakes
From others
"Those were good times,
Call me sometime" she said
Your wife turned her back to me...
Exited and with feeling
I assisted the technichian
Just for a few minutes, happy
I still got it, all of it
"There's only one reason you weren't hired; his wife is afraid of you"
At loss for words I listen to you
Give me a peptalk
So you do believe in me
Enough to give me tools
To become your worst enemy
And you know I'm ruthless in business
Surely otherwise you would not
Tell me to apply with a competing firm
The smell of guilt in the afternoon.
Jun 8, 2015
Jun 8, 2015 at 8:19 AM UTC
Eli had begun teaching painting at the University of Montenegro Faculty of Fine Arts; The act of Painting is the practice of applying paint, pigment, color or other medium to a solid or semi porous surface. The medium is commonly applied with a brush, but other implements such as knives, sponges and airbrushes can also be used & varying flotsam can be added or mixed into the liquid paint or attached to the wet surface either while it dries or later. The final work is also called a painting. Typically hung on walls by means of a wire and hook, or propped in a position to be observed. The students were flummoxed. The one kid who wanted to be a house painter was overjoyed. Eli got him an internship with a house painter who also owned a hardware store. The guy even started ordering canvases for the kid to throw, spill and drip paint on using house paint, brushes and rollers. The man thanked Eli for sending him such an eager & industrious worker. The other kids were failing. One dark-haired girl had become his rue in the class. He'd walk up behind her & say, what's that? She would say, A picture. He'd say, You ave a camera for that. She'd get frustrated & ***** & finally seduced him. She couldn't paint to save her life, but she was already beautiful. She didn't have to paint. So bad at it, that she eventually committed suicide by hanging herself; Eli & everyone else getting the irony.
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 12:37 AM UTC
Theresa's Quote:*
"To the black hairstylist: Again, I will say that you are a blessing to these women and a blessing to this hair.
Black hair is a heaven-sent gift that helps black women keep their heads held high in public."
I prefer the black wig B1; it suits my complexion and looks convincing.
This is about her internship in Washington, D.C. During her college years, her health fluctuated. She spent two weeks traveling from Maryland to the city, all while searching for a place to park her car.
Before boarding a train to Washington, she majored in political science. Some stories are best left untold, but not this one. It eagerly reveals itself through my poetic sense of humor. Poetry writing is not only about rhythm and rhyme; it can serve as a voice of reason, a therapy session, and a means of soul-searching as our fingers work their magic.
A Black woman’s hair is often viewed as off-limits to outsiders. Her numerous wigs are her crown and glory. Her extensions tightly squeeze her natural hair, which she ignores for the sake of beauty. Even with a low-paying job, she carries herself with grace. Even if it means using the same wig repeatedly, she secures the B1 bob cut with bobby pins.
On that Friday afternoon, her school credits were on her mind. Her career path and every little thing weighed heavily on her thoughts. Even her romantic life took a backseat. As she headed toward her car in the parking lot, she searched for her keys in her bag, thinking of ways to beat the bumper-to-bumper traffic back in Maryland.
As she opened her car door, she noticed a well-dressed man in the adjacent car watching her. He looked attractive, and her instincts kicked in. Was he checking her out or being creepy? She offered him a faint smile.
Just as she was about to get in, her bobbed wig fell to the ground, exposing her messy natural hair. Embarrassed, she quickly picked it up and closed her door, silently asking herself, "What just happened? Why did my wig let me down?"
Second chances seldom come along.
Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 11:46 AM UTC
A fully qualified journalist,
what path to choose?
I’m not great with breaking news,
I panic too much and get the details wrong,
not very useful under the confines of tight deadlines.
Then there’s the other stuff such as “death knocks,”
while a family is grieving,
there’s no reason to be intruding on their life,
and getting the gory details,
just for a story which improves the page rank,
and Reach PLC can take it to the bank.
Going through people’s bins,
is actually a thing,
but not just dipping in and out,
there’s a plan,
put it in a van,
spread the contents around,
and see what can be found.
This MP talks about healthy food,
which must include no added preservatives,
but what’s this packaging from their fridge?
A chocolate bar?
Is writing a story about this going too far?
Of course not, and we’ll contrive to write a few hundred words,
then run it on page five.
What about an internship?
Three months in London,
unpaid, that’ll cost a bit, who can afford that?
There’s travel money, rent for the flat.
If you’re providing written information for the publication,
they should be made to get you paid.
Anyway, freelance reporting could be the way forward,
work remotely,
and mostly write about things I like,
football, music, and community issues,
which team’s going to lose?
There’s a gig on who’s playing?
The residents are just saying,
“What about these potholes and the business rent controls?”
I can see myself doing this long term,
I need more hours, a few years have gone by,
I don’t want to lose the momentum,
become glum and slip back into the way it was before.
May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 2:49 PM UTC
In the realm of friendship, a bond so dear,
A tale of companionship, crystal clear.
Within our internship, a group so fine,
Let me weave a poetic rhyme.
First comes Sujeth, with words that flow,
Talkative and open-minded, a lively show.
Expressive soul, his thoughts take flight,
With every word, painting colors bright.
Next is Surendar, a true gentleman's grace,
A heart of gold, shining in every space.
Kind and polite, his presence serene,
A pillar of strength, a soul so keen.
Ah, Sudarshan, humble and ever kind,
A helping hand, he's always inclined.
In times of need, he stands by your side,
A friend like him, a treasure to confide.
Now behold, Ashok, the epitome of charm,
With looks that dazzle, he could disarm
Jul 17, 2023
Jul 17, 2023 at 11:30 AM UTC
Just cruising through the endless sunny days
Along a rainforest river lingering
Hatless, shirtless, catching some serious rays
Listening to the national radio
A practical internship in cultural studies
Interacting with the authentic locals
And sampling their authentic cuisines
And learning so much from authentic them
The authentic locals had much to teach us,
And they did - during our gap year in Viet-Nam
May 23, 2018
May 23, 2018 at 4:55 PM UTC