"trainee" poems
"There are animals in the road"
the traffic reporter said
"We're not told what they are
find another route instead"
And so I got to wondering
though I wasn't going that way
what the mystery beasties were
that were on the road that day
Were they a herd of wildebeeste
who took a wrong turn on the veldt
or perhaps a wayward mule train
delivering some sacks of spelt
Maybe a team of trainee reindeer
diverted from the North Pole
or a bunch of llamas from Peru
that fell through a wormhole
Or bears, or wolves, or lions
could be zebras or kangaroos
surely not beached aquatic mammals
or elephants trumpeting the blues
Exotic beasts seemed unlikely though
it was more likely cattle or sheep
though it could have been migrating badgers
moving goalposts somewhere safe to keep
Cynthia Pauline Jones, 27/10/13
Mar 18, 2014
Mar 18, 2014 at 8:36 AM UTC
You look at me as if I have galaxies in my eyes
with planets revolving around my body
and sunshine on my breath
out of the billions of stars in the sky you are my sun
I fell for an astronaut
ready to float through the space in my mind
I inhale your words and exhale star dust
forming the galaxies for you to travel
I am your space cadet,
my major interstellar
teach me to love the cosmos as much as you do
because I still have trouble loving
the constellations you see in me
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
The legend said that there was a boy in the mid 800 who begged everyday to the Sun God That his black eyes could be blue as sapphire. In Africa every person of the region had dark eyes, but he felt he wanted to have light blue eyes so someday he could go with the sky Gods and be their helper and trainee. The only requisite was to have blue or gray eyes; for them these two colors meant purity and identified the only ones who could meet them. Shmuel wanted it, but that meant he was going to go away from his house and live his family forever, because once you go and see a God you can’t return to Earth nor have contact with humans again. After years of begging to the sun, he accepted it, and turned his eyes blue as sapphire. The day he had to go was sad; all his community was in his house saying goodbye to him. Everyone since then called him “the child with the sapphires eyes”. He knew that earth and his family were history already. Before being introduced to the Gods Space he turned back his head once again and saluted with a smile all his community. Since then his mind was erased and a new Shmuel was created. Now he served these Gods, and as an apprentice he would turn to be like them in the future.
Elena Ramos
Short Fictional Story
Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
Initial day at uni.
Took a little stumble.
As down the road I rumbled.
World of study.
Well thought out.
Off my bike I tumbled.
Over the handlebars.
In front of the cars.
A not amusing somersault.
It really wasn’t funny.
My humerus, got broke
Not at all amusing,
Certainly no joke.
Not a funny bone to break.
University was no ball.
Off to uni.
Arm in cast.
In front of the others.
What a giggle.
Trainee nurse in pyjamas.
Battle of the one armed fly.
Impossibly undone!
By ladylivvi1
© 2014 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 4:08 PM UTC
"My first attempt in aerobatics"
The trainee pilot, a petite girl softly replies.
As the single engine trainer aircraft attempts a daring loop,
my perplexed eyes see ground below races upwards!
No time now for anything, but to enjoy the fruit of karma.
Sep 29, 2012
Sep 29, 2012 at 3:04 PM UTC
Every day was the same as the one before. She
Every day was the same as the one before. She
went to the cupboard and took out a box of Wheetie Krisps
went to the cupboard and took out a box of Kheetie Wisps
just to survive another morning shift, or so it seemed.
just to survive another afternoon shift, or so it seemed.
Why wouldn't Sam in Sales notice her? After all,
Why wouldn't Irving in the Post Room notice her? After all,
he was only a Trainee Executive; and she was good enough for him.
he was only a souped-up errands boy; and she was desperate.
Of course today, as with yesterday, he would simply walk past her.
Of course today, like yesterday, he would just run away.
The ground floor cafe queue never seemed to get any shorter at lunchtime
The sandwich trolley lady seemed to get shorter and shorter of sandwiches
The bistro down the road was no less crowded; the food was expensive,
The local pub's parrot kept screaming "TIME!" and the food was crap,
No-one ever spoke to anyone outside of their clique; it was just another working day.
No-one ever had any time to chat; it was just another pointless day.
And so the days went on. Until one day her reflection reached out and pulled her into the mirror.
And so the days went on. Until one night, her dream reached out and pulled her through the vortex.
To be Continued...
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 8:49 PM UTC
A life on the ocean wave, **
In the olden days of sail
When pirate ships were proud and brave
And their crews were very male.
Captain **** stood upon his bridge
Looking smart and flash;
But below the decks, the orders were
*** and *** and the lash.
First Mate **** went to the **** deck,
His willie at the ready;
Initiation time had come
For trainee pirate Freddy.
"Thtwap him o'er that cannon, ladth!"
Roared the hirsute lisper,
"Gag hith mouth thecurely, ladth,
Thilenth hith evewy whithper."
The pirates did as he had bid -
Refuse and they'd be punished -
And they knew their turn would come
Once First Mate **** had finished.
The lisping brute went up the poor young lad
And soon was pumping away;
Poor little Fred looked rather pained -
As he wasn't really gay.
Then came the turn of the other men
And they joined in with a will;
Little Freddy could not say "no"
Until they'd had their fill.
What a life our pirates had,
Always singing shanties;
When men were men and big and butch
And the skipper wore silk *******
The pirates' frigates ruled the waves -
Good sailors feared them coming;
If captured, they'd be condemned
To a life of seaborne bumming.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 6:01 AM UTC
Upgrading
“So you want to be a hairdresser, I bellowed, I gave you
a splendid education and that is how you repay me!”
“You can study to be a doctor or a lawyer or something
posh, but never a hairdresser.”
“I struggled in poverty to get some kind of education at
the Academy of catering and pursership- I never have
heard that word before- you have now, this to drag me
out of the slum of being working class, and you want
to be a hairdresser!”
She is my daughter a product of a reluctant relationship
Her mother was a reserve nurse at a local hospital and
Was content with her status.
“ If you persist in wanting to be a hairdresser leave my
house I will not have you here inviting the poverty
I tried to get away from.”
I know where she works as a trainee hairdresser walk
past the salon, every day just to see how she is getting on,
but I won’t let her see how much I love her, this stubborn
girl taking after her father
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 5:11 AM UTC
This love is so restless
It's making us reckless
99.9% of the time
Oh but baby you're mine...you're mine
We sip our way into the wee hours of day
Drinking every bit of champagne
Hoping to sustain
Dying embers of the flame
Take me back to the night we missed our flight
We were lying in the sand
Playing games of naked twister unplanned
Every demand was issued like a command
Call me crazy but I loved each reprimand
One day maybe
I'll be your leading lady
Until then, baby don't call me baby
I lost my soul somewhere down in Haiti
Love me like crazy
I was losing the fight
Holding tight to the edges of fragile delight
Moaning between every bite
You had me trembling at the increase
Racing fast like lightening towards release
Prime and ready to please
But only if you please
My only goal is to appease
Raising the heat by degrees
Wearing what's left of my chemise
I'm far from a trainee,
A tease waiting anxiously on my knees
One day maybe
I'll be your leading lady
Until then, baby don't call me baby
I lost my soul somewhere down in Haiti
Love me like crazy
Love me like crazy...
© 2014 Peach
Jul 25, 2014
Jul 25, 2014 at 2:46 AM UTC
**** victim dies; she was gang *****
With an Indian flag, her body was draped.
She was a trainee doctor in Kolcutta, India.
At RG Kar Medical College, as per media
In a deep silence, everyone gaped.
Mouth was full of blood; she was scraped.
Her bleeding eyes were videotaped.
Protest is called by medical ecclesia.
**** victim dies
Gruesome **** she couldn't have escaped
Heinous acts like this should be scraped.
How many did this have no idea?
I condemn acts of ****** mania.
Culprits should be punished and wapped.
**** victim dies
Aug 17, 2024
Aug 17, 2024 at 9:49 AM UTC
April 24 2010 there was a Boy Scout display in the parking lot North of Mickey Ds and by the Imagination Station. Tony was fascinated by many of the displays. The Sheriff’s Office was well represented with several displays. Tony got to climb up on the rescue boat, the one we see going by our house frequently in the summer to fish someone out of the river. The two Sheriff’s Office Deputies in charge of the boat were really good with the kids. About 15 minutes later Tony bent over the bow of the boat, I was on the good ole solid ground, and said to me, “These guys are really COOL grandpa.” I said, “yup, they are.” and looked over at one of guys. I ask, “Did you hear that?” With a big grin he said, “I sure did.” He had a big grin on his face for a while. Tony debarked and headed to new territory. I have to have speedy shoes on to keep up some days. I wish I could find a pair of those.
Later we were at a different car on display. The people there were young intern or trainee types wearing the Sheriff’’s Office shirt and hardware. Tony had bailed out of the armored car where he had been playing for 20 minutes and was standing next to me watching the young group yucking it up. They were loud and horsing around some… with out the horse. All of a sudden he got a scowl on his face and said in a rather loud voice, “Grandpa, those are NOT real cops. Why are they wearing uniforms? They should not do that.” Well that was hard to explain and I was hoping “they” did not hear what he said. We left rapidly.
I guess he thought they were not acting the way officers should act. At least not like the COOL guys at the boat. I suppose that comes from trying to instill respect in the uniform of peace officers. The lesson is one each of us needs to remember. If we say we are (fill in the blank) then we had better act the part or we can lead an impressionable young mind astray. So lets be COOL.
That’s my story and I am sticking to it.
Aug 30, 2014
Aug 30, 2014 at 8:22 PM UTC
Arnold my dearest friend was 82
his soul has made a transition
through sands and vast oceans
to another dimensional paradise
he was chatty and I quiet
he was white and I black
he was old and I young
he was a man and I a woman
bonded with zest and humour
Arnold was strict and perfect
we met at local debating club
where we polished speeches
the little gems of impromptu
and the daunted evaluations
charming and complimentary
with an adventurous heart
and the pleasing easy spirit
of playfulness and success
Arnold and his plentiful gang
of competitive read speakers
always told me to slow down
I was a post-graduate trainee
wanting to brush my confidence
way back then when I stumbled
on that working men club
in the company of grey hairs
organised in eventful committees
Arnold saw roles changed
when after five long years
I was an elected president
the transformation of time
following radio interviews
back then when career drove
the foundations of many blocks
of habitual repetition and sweat
of sifting grime from the fire
Arnold always warmed up to me
kissed me on the rosy cheek
he changed cars like clothes
and loved his dearly wife to bits
he has left a scent around my life
of a hope to love and build family
an ardent piano player and traveller
no wonder that church was so full
abundant with fond memories
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 12:05 PM UTC
This will land like focaccia,
Like the careless 'forgot ya'!
And a man will stand while staring in, through the coffee shop window, going off glossolalia.
The ebullient cashier trainee
remembers every name and mixes up almost all the orders
for coffee,
Cars are lined up for the drive-
through, their voices sound like
didjeridoos, in the ears covered
by single cyborg clip-ons
headset taking orders.
The ****** iconoclast, Street person, bows to the ground, hat off his head, as he prays to the cigarette holes he made in the EXIT sign outside,
his hat remains empty, as each car that whips up the wind that tumbles the receipts tossed egregiously at him, like leaves in the Fall,
While the cruciverbalist sits in the corner in the only soft seat, finger pecking her keyboard while stares at the line and sips her chai tea,
lagniappe of chocolate stashed,
away in her voluptuous bag, the beleaguered barista has cups lined up over the transcendental horizon,
and she can't wait for her break
so she can eat with Olio Nuovo
olive oil, and Selection Artisan
ged balsamic vinegar, she brought
to dip, her focaccia bread in,
which she forgot almost,
on the counter at home.
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 11:09 PM UTC
I don't understand why I feel so dead inside
Why would I set the key aside
If I hadn't lost that key
You wouldn't be in my head right now I just want to be set free
My body is starting to break down
My mind is going in circles being chased around
My head is stirring up dark deep thoughts
How can I make it stop I'm so out of sorts
Why did I let you beat me and choke me
You wouldn't stop until my body went limp I didn't know at the time I was just a trainee
All the while I thought you loved me
All I wanted was to make a family tree
You loved being in power and in control
I lost everything my body,heart, and soul
You was a con straight out of the hood
I was a fish straight out of school
I wasn't living no more just going through the motion day by day
Waiting mostly for the hits that you gave me when I disobeyed
Being careful of where I was hit
So no one could tell I was being extinguished
you didn't want bruised merchandise
You preyed on my mind as I declined
Following every rule you made
Taking every punishment you served
Was I gonna be sold to traffickers
Or was you afraid to let your money maker go to the panthers
Was this the bigger picture all along
You stole my key and sold it to the devil is that why my head was always bashed against the wall
I was under your spell
Only way out was through hell
People see you hitting and beating me
But they just walk around or keep going never saying word to help me get my master key
Why did you not stop and help me
Maybe I would've went back but what if you was the one who set me free
My life was in danger
I was told my family was too which was a game changer
I did as told and when I was told and what I was told
Somewhere in your f--ked up mind you thought I wasn't obeying you was always in control
That's when you used whatever weapon
You had in tow to beat me into submission I reckon
You thought you was a player
You was my soul taker
Feb 12, 2017
Feb 12, 2017 at 5:03 PM UTC
Do you want to sketch all your life
Or learn to paint a master piece?
Do we not sketch to learn, to develop, to grow?
So why do you still sketch?
What more do you hope to learn?
That people are vulnerable?
That you can hurt them?
That you can leave them?
Are you not tired of sketching outlines?
Don't you long for tonal quality?
For careful composition and a considered pallet?
I know your secret!
That the canvas scares you, terrifies you even.
All that you will be revealed on that unforgiving scape.
That expanse of white which must be filled and not by charcoal and line.
You will be revealed, exposed and displayed for all to see.
You will be revealed in the shading,
In the sensitivity you give to light and to contrast.
Yes, you will be revealed...
But in it you will be filled in.
You will have no freedom to remain as an outline of a man,
With all hidden in fine graphite lines and hastily hatched shadow.
You will have to mature as a man, as an artist of the soul
And set yourself free on a canvas with confidence and brush!
What a liberation!
Will the first canvas be a masterpiece?
In all likelihood no!
But it will be a beginning
And how can you consider yourself an artist if you never paint!
How many sunflowers did Van Gough paint? How many chapels?
Was he satisfied with any of them?
And was each of them worthwhile?
Paint my friend, take up your brush and paint.
Use colour boldly,
Reserve fear and reservation for other pursuits
Or better still leave them from your pallet altogether.
Be sensitive and subtle with your treatment of the subject,
frame her well, carefully
But be bold.
There is little point in holding back.
Do you want your canvas to scream, "Hesitation!"?
Paint or don't, but if you choose not to, declare it to the world!
Do not act like a painter, talk like a painter and look like a painter,
If you do not paint!
Declare "I like to sketch"
And sketch until you bear no longer to leave a subject unexplored in a monochromatic if artistic hiatus.
Be true, be bold, be clear and when you feel the time is right paint with the same honesty and boldness with which you sketched.
Then it will be a true training,
Not the pontification a of a trainee conjurer working above his station.
Complete your apprenticeship, graduate,
And step forth into the world.
Confident, upright, paint brush in hand.
Jul 21, 2015
Jul 21, 2015 at 5:19 AM UTC
Eunji of Apink was only a trainee
for six months, where others take
years b/c of her habit of breaking
❤ into song mid conversation, ❤
singing her response to questions.
Oct 27, 2018
Oct 27, 2018 at 9:03 PM UTC
I found the key
To being free
Easier said than done you see
The enemy
Looking at me
Through memories of past that won't let me be
Reality
Is so tricky
We can pick and choose what we see
Minds are finicky
Part of their beauty
Balancing being teacher and trainee
Aug 30, 2017
Aug 30, 2017 at 11:42 AM UTC
Before Noah left the house,
he fed his pet cat and mouse,
he looked in front of his feet for bugs,
so as not to **** any little beetles or slugs.
Noah was a zookeeper who loved animals with a love that was more than love.
He got to work that Monday, and at first it was like any other day.
At about noon, Noah's boss, and a young rough looking man came into sight,
Noah was told he had to train the young man, No longer like any other day, but not unusual.
At four O-clock, it was time to feed some of the animals, Noah showed the new worker what to do for the different animals.
When It came time for the Lizards, things took a slight turn for the odd. The new guy loved putting the bugs in the cages for the lizards and snakes, He loved it a lot, with an almost disturbing sort of enjoyment, he continued to feed the reptiles, before turning to Noah and saying, "is there anything bigger to feed them?"
Well It did so happen that the larger snakes ate mice, and this information was told to the new employee, with an excited grin he continued until it was time for the large serpents to be fed.
Noah brought out a large glass box, in it were 14 beautiful, silky, white as milk, mice, with eyes the size and color of ladybugs.
The new worker sprang over to the crate and snatched up (rather violently) one of the mice.
He hurled it into the snakes pit, the snake, (which was a python) didn't move.
The trainee, (To the astonishment and disgust of Noah, But he was too shocked and even a bit too intrigued to do anything.) reached in his hand, and yanked the snakes tail, endangering himself just to see a mouse be killed. what happened next was exactly what you would expect, the snake devoured the mouse and the new employee smirked.
Noah was so shocked by this display he quit at the end of that night, and never came back out of fear for seeing the young man again.
I think none of us have ever been witness to such a bizarre display,
sadly this is not an unusual display.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 8:52 PM UTC
Timothy looks away
Slightly disgusted
By those around
Flashing images
streak by
Gardens, yards
Car park
His breathing
Frosts the window
Sarah carefully
Places one ear pod
Into her ear
To listen to Handel’s 5th
Cameron looks
Shiftily down the aisle
For signs of
The trolley cart
That’s never on its way
Signs of passing stations
Shuttle by
Side streets
High streets
Cobbled streets
Timothy sighs
Opens a book
Pretends to be
Invisible
To fellow passengers
The train manager
Formally known as The Conductor
Announces
A delay due to points
Failure
Victoria
Wishes she hadn’t
Left Geoffrey
Last Tuesday
By the gas works wall
Lamp posts,
Telegraph poles
Fence posts
Flash by
A trainee
Train hygiene
Operative
Rustles a bin bag
And asks for *******
Thomas smiles
At the lady across the aisle
Who quickly looks
To the floor
Hedgerows
Sheep
Green grass
A tractor lazily ploughing a furrow
Sandra,
A mother looks embarrassed
Shushes, tries to smother the cries
Of her screaming child
Trampolines
Swings
Slides
Paddling pools
Rush on by
An old lady *****
Vigorously on a mint humbug
Whilst knitting in rhythm
With the motion
Of the train
Factories
Smoking chimneys
Industrial waste
Barren landscapes
Fly by
Terry
Anxious,
Gets up and shakily
Makes his way to check
That his case is
Still in the luggage storage
For the fourth time
Since The last station
Garages with rickety wooden doors
allotment sheds
Lock ups
Pigeon lofts
Pass by
The tannoy crackles
The announcement
That the train will soon
Reach the next station
And
That
All passengers
Alighting Here
Be careful to take all belongings
And mind the gap
Over grown weeds
Wild rampant Budleahs
Self seeded trees
Glide past
The 3:58 from
Dec 21, 2019
Dec 21, 2019 at 9:15 AM UTC
Secretly achieving my dreams
How I Envision myself since I was sixteen
Always imagined I would be a queen
But that's not what reality had in store for me
Working as a trainee
Nine to five daily
Never needing anyone to save me
Lunch break at three
Nothing in this world is free
That I can guarantee
●-●
Oct 21, 2021
Oct 21, 2021 at 12:18 AM UTC
Last night I was thinking of you:
How you came without our consent!
How you would leave, against our will!
When you are gone,
We return to routine.
Days will drag on -
A well-oiled dull machine.
We will miss you -
All the fun you give us.
Fresh morning dew
Will be covered by dust.
Nov 14, 2019
Nov 14, 2019 at 2:54 AM UTC
Euphanized from my mind everything we were...........I cannot take the physical elements of what you have done to me........I am weak window pain and frost bitten razor blades.
Chalk laced mirrors of the forgetful, empty bottles of remembrance.............paraplegic I must be as I have not stopped bleeding for you.
Searching for cures from the ones your parents warned you from...........doorman’s elbows sharp, sinking and fracturing the sockets I see you through..........that ******* blue dress you parade in still sits exquisitely with your smile.........emergency rooms become natural habitat to the patchwork of fabricated lies and deceit I tell the trainee nurse..........at that moment my only friend......please just something to take the edge off, sleep for my sanity.
That demons got me good this time.........content to keep my mince pies closed for good........that warmth of morphine in the pit of your stomach......want that to last........but here comes lucifer again with the usuall......draw out those tear ducts that sting so frighteningly of what’s to come.........sink that stoker white hot trident deep into the cavity of Love.............will never relapse as it does not stop...........worms and wild flowers can feed.
Aug 8, 2018
Aug 8, 2018 at 7:47 PM UTC
What is an adolescent?
Stare at the faded walls of my old bedroom,
Breathe in the air of my old home,
And I’m a kid again.
What is a grown-up?
Look up at the sky full of stars,
Savour its familiar vastness,
And I’m small again.
What is a professional?
Come back to my old practice room,
Find those sweaty shirts and socks,
And I’m a trainee again.
What is old age?
Rock on the rocker like rocking a swing,
Stretch out my arms to catch the wind,
And I’m young again.
What is the world?
Blue and green, some say, inanimate,
But it lives and breathes for me, changing,
And I’m alive again.
Nov 12, 2020
Nov 12, 2020 at 12:51 PM UTC
Down it goes the path, a faded attire does it own,
Lacking an ambience known, missing a specific tone.
Can it illuminate forever, but forever can it burn?
The initials are luminous all embellished, yet we see a sulking Saturn.
It’s a box of candies, each of whom might be as big as a bun,
The box reverberates distinctive symphonies, until in it, there are left none.
It’s not the little sea in the well, which announces its retour to meet its love, the circum-sky.
The one which rises up pushing the bricks, breaking the tie.
Mirage is momentous, pleasing but untrue,
Advancing towards life, we stumble upon a few.
Savant is no expert but he who can penetrate deception,
Which tons of you might justify as no bigger than a misconception?
Not being a savant is part of the training, where you flunk to succeed,
Life is your trainee with tons of obstacles and tons more it can breed.
Down he goes the path, a qualified savant was never he born,
As long as there’s a path leading him, the savant ain’t truly alone.
Oct 19, 2020
Oct 19, 2020 at 5:33 AM UTC