Best Protege Poems
I stare at my baby’s perfect bald head,
Watching her chest rise and fall,
Her precious lips poised for her next feeding.
I wonder if this is my last sleepless night spent drinking in her infantile perfection.
My little girl starts Kindergarten today,
Pretty plaid dress and sparkly shoes,
A backpack with her favorite princess on it.
I wonder if this is my last time knowing that she’ll miss me as much as I’ll miss her.
I just left my beautiful protege at college,
A new dorm room with movie posters
And everything important to her proudly displayed.
I wonder if this is the last time she’ll call our house her home.
The amazing woman I birthed is 23.
Cancer now consumes her body
And my time, driving to chemo, holding her hand, praying until my knees give out.
I wonder if this is the last treatment — the one that will end her pain.
I stare at my baby’s perfect bald head,
Reminded of when she was a newborn.
But this time I’m not feeling the joy, only fear.
I wonder if this will be the last time I hold this exceptional soul in my arms.
I stare at the lovely woman beneath my tree,
Her short, curly hair a welcome change,
Making her blue eyes sparkle even more than the Christmas lights.
And I am certain this will not be the last time I thank my God for a miracle.
Categories:
protege, cancer, daughter, family, love,
Form:
Free verse
I come consistent, end-of-day
To lay my troubles down and pray
Beside those worries that I weigh
On hushing sands that trim the bay
Thru sun or rain, in bright or gray
For wondered hours gone astray
Reposed in twilight's soft bouquet
Thus seeking life's sweet interplay
To shift and shape this grand ballet
While drowning in the day's decay
Amidst the bloom of nature's fray
I set loose cares and drown dismay
No brooding with "poor-me's" cliche'
Seclusion birthed of Hemingway
This shore, my peaceful protege'
A timeless friend to doubts, allay
And leave the griefs of yesterday ...
Let strains, like seas, just ease away
Soft, come the evening, come what may
Though softer, still, the moon's display
As slow, it creeps, to peep the cay
Oh here my soul shall ALWAYS stray
Where silence, peace and grace repay ...
Swept shore-ward ... love's last castaway.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Grace And Solitude" Poetry Contest, John Hamilton, Judge & Sponsor.
Categories:
protege, appreciation, imagery, introspection, life,
Form:
Rhyme
she taught her young protege all that she knew,
knowing the end was near; on gossamer wings she flew.
Categories:
protege, life, poetry,
Form:
Couplet
They always made me happy,
The camels of the wise men,
The slowness of their footsteps,
Their self-sufficient ben.
Camels meant there was time,
For the three wise men to think,
To ponder upon their task,
To review their role as a link.
They were required to assess,
The child to be called god’s son,
To see if he could be a doctor,
To the poor, and to be the action.
Mary and Joseph were important,
To their question of universal worth,
So they prepared themselves well,
With questions surrounding his birth.
They understood that environment,
Is a factor in child development,
So endeavoured to contextualise,
The place of the baby’s commencement.
They predicted they’d be rejected,
By townsmen all along the way,
Spat at, maybe jousted with,
By loitering agitators arbitrarily.
Especially at the door of the inn,
There’d be jesters and jostlers alike,
People shouting “Don’t go there!
Avoid them, and get on another bike!”
And equally importantly, with respect,
They thought of their theology,
That their own actions may be vital,
To improving others’ sociology.
They considered their belief,
In an immanently coming messiah,
And renewed their vow to choose,
A protege who would take us higher.
So by the time they reached the inn,
They were very much prepared,
They could talk to each other freely,
About the saviour that’d been blared.
And the camels facilitated all this,
Preparation and consideration,
And gave the magi their pondering,
Upon seeing the configuration.
They enabled this baby to thrive,
Gave his family his manifestation,
And felt spent entirely at their visit,
Worn out by careful deliberation.
Categories:
protege, animal, christian, christmas, december,
Form:
Rhyme
...from the movie, 'American Beauty'
A plastic bag, a windy day,
darting, dancing high and low,
coquettish in her flight of fancy,
all in all, a one-bag show;
a street performer with a twist,
I wish you could have seen her,
a holder meant for groceries,
an no-name ballerina.
Erratic, yes, but orchestrated,
it's as if a puppeteer
controlled the choreography,
a protege without a peer;
she soared and swooped, this virtuoso,
then the errant wind was gone,
no pirouettes to look upon,
and I was left to ruminate,
an audience of one.
Categories:
protege, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
Special Forces is where my loyalties lie
And Air Force well it runs in the family
Sitting around a campfire
Passing a bottle of Gentlemans jack around
talking about our grandpa and smiling big
but today i make a circle and stop by the grave yard
i've reached my limit Ive had enough
Hey Sir lets just go and pick out my grave hello to you 2 Holy Men
this is not the path i chose
excuse me while i take command of the situation
Im sure there are many better trained and capable of keepeing the peace
and keep these hands clean from spilling blood
but speaking the truth he has his heart set on my destruction
Well Sir your more than likely going end up dying trying to kill me
Im speaking Brass wtf am I a helicopter base
And where the hell is those ghost of my past
I tell you they ain't no body bracing them when Im around
beaware danger lurks
he said remember this aint over yet
we'll see wont we and yea if your an oposing force
you wont never see where the blow comes from
the Lord's got His sword in His hand and he's swinging back
It's Christmas eve today instead of being scared to dye i enjoy myself
but im still pist and im still not backing down
I know there is nothing i can say to change your mind
A Team of Assassians meet A Team
really we dont think you wanna play those Assassian games
it'd be bashing your ****ing skulls in and feeding you to the coyotes and buzzards
it'd be seeing your protege advancing farther than you
Your what a lion is with no heart
you give us all a bad name and im just a no account
Im a part of nothing I have nothing to do with it
still im forced to do unspeakable things
but no one forced me to take hits for that Lady
That was a choice I made
I dont seek my friends to fight my battles
I face it alone like ive faced everthing
but beaware to all Ive never seen a force this big
The Angels weep in Heaven
And i will die with the strength my friends inspired in me
Categories:
protege, anger, betrayal, natural disasters,
Form:
Bio
Eminem Protege 2
Don't care what you think
I need Ten Shrinks an Ten Pens Full Of Ink
To Let my Inner Wisdom Tink
Colder Than Ten Penguins In A Rink
My Spirit Fitness & Physique at it's Peak
Adrenaline Obese
Extinguished to Concrete
Out the Pyramids Extinct
Into this Physical Dimension as A Sphinx
Face of a Beast of a Lynx
Idiot Beliefs placing limited reach
on my limitless fatigue
My Old Image Obsolete
I stole Potion from Ten Witches An Ten Wishes
from Ten Genies an Ancient Magicians
an Buried the lamps in the Ditches
while I summoned Ten Fighting Spirits
of Venegance as My Apprentices
I Opened my Sealed Syllabus
to Reveal my Ventriloquists
Just left Hells Kitchen with Skin Itching
with Skin Blisters open Skin Pigments
Stealing Lucifers Instruments
to Use them Against Him
To appear as Glitches
against the System
I cook Hot Meals with Mittens
an make him taste the Illness
I'm Inventing
But only an Sample for Interest
for His Taste Senses
cause Hells angels can Sensor the Sizzling
I'm Fly like Ten Twin Pigeons
with Eagles Precision
I'm a Scientist but I ain't writing Science Fiction
with Knowledge that would leave Einstein Winded
I been Fighting for Living
100 percent Percentage
an no less than a Percent difference
Still Power in my Engine
to keep the Ignition Driven
You can't Compare to these Rare Characteristics
the Judgements from your Conscious
is InTolerant to my Unresponsive
Mental Doctrines
Im use to Antagonist
Real Hebrew who's a Zionist
False Prophets who Diabolic an Jewish
Judaism Created with Iron Fist
in A Luciferian Science
of Enlightenment
Jewish Hybrids Of Pirates
Stolen Israels Environment
I ain't Racist
Just apart of a Nation
Created
Created Generations to Generations
Heritage Invaded
an Culture Undertaken
Perpetrated
by The Synagogue of Satanist
my fire been Penetrated
the fire in the eye of the Tiger formulated
stripes on the tiger Blazing
I'm Judahs Inspiration
an Judas Envy Craving
But I'm not Babylons Patriot
Bablyonion Doom Waiting
Doomsday
when the Moon Change
The Wolf Rage
Waging Spiritual Shade
against Ravenous Wolves in Sheeps Wools
is Game
Sharpened Tools
my Sword is Shaped
Cut open the Wolves
an Bathe in the Pool
of Blood til It's Drained
I'm a Prophet in the Apocalypse
Categories:
protege, birth, character, leadership, new
Form:
Free verse
Slim Shady flow
Date: Mon, Nov 2 2015 at 1:19 PM
This is Lazarus "Wake"
Listening to Master "Ace"
The Master Ace "Catastrophic" "Break"
Disaster "Waits"
Fashion fakes of the heroes "Blasphemous" "Capes"
Walking with Jesus blood "Splattered" "Robe"
Swollen "Elbows" with his cross I "Plaster" into "Stones"
It was shattered in "Stones"
Until i mastered the pattern to "Clone"
Casper's "HOME"
Now Casper ghost "Refractured" "Structured" into my "Bones"
Smiles of laughter from clusters of "Gnomes"
I take a trip all over earth for HIS CROSS to be "KNOWN"
Listening to Gospel in my "Headphones"
I notice the air show of "Drones"
The truth hidden in the crack of the "Potholes" "Shown"
Open Bible full of Wisdom & "Pro's"
Treasures of "Gold"
Evidence of the "Soul"
Open "Scrolls"
Inside the "Portfolio"
Of Heavens Poet never "Told"
Categories:
protege, imagery, metaphor, poetry, riddle,
Form:
Free verse
...from the movie, 'American Beauty'
A plastic bag, a windy day,
darting, dancing high and low,
coquettish in her flight of fancy,
all in all, a one-bag show;
a street performer with a twist,
I wish you could have seen her,
a holder meant for groceries,
an no-name ballerina.
Erratic, yes, but orchestrated,
it's as if a puppeteer
controlled the choreography,
a protege without a peer;
she soared and swooped, this virtuoso,
then the errant wind was gone,
and I was left to ruminate,
an audience of one.
Categories:
protege, magic,
Form:
Verse
A plastic bag, a windy day,
she's darting, dancing high and low,
coquettish in her flight of fancy,
all in all, a one-bag show;
a street performer with a twist,
I wish you could have seen her,
a holder meant for groceries,
a no-name ballerina.
Erratic, yes, but orchestrated,
it's as if a puppeteer
controlled the choreography,
a protege without a peer.
She soared and swooped, this virtuoso,
then the errant wind was gone,
and I was left to ruminate,
an audience of one.
********
...inspired by 'that scene' in the movie, 'American Beauty,'
once seen never forgotten and alone worth the price of admission!
Categories:
protege, fantasy,
Form:
Verse
A sorte protege os audazes
Yes a sergeant rode in here as always with
A daring pair of rangers that made us just
Go pray it's back to Fashion Day because
Baby we won't have to pass away, oh no
To the reality of a fascist state
Although
It's hard it's envious of me to see you apart from me baby
Yeah into so many things that aren't a part of me maybe
It's the coat of arms oh stitched by those that harm
That cause alarm
Or the green card rejected by the armies of God be-
Cause they frost The Fall and that's
That's just to save us all
And the justice saves us all
And the style is designed
And with the sign of a Griffin
The symbolism of a lion of wisdom
Where the kings have wings
Oh don't you see
Yeah my envy of these things that separate you and me
So the poet in the philosopher
He said that he'd
He'd throw us the thrill of a cross but first
Put on a gauntlet, in a British accent "lad you can't let
Oh the truth bring out the worst and let it get
Yeah the best of you" so
We'll catch it without the hurt but
Still left with a loss of words 'cause
The style is designed
And with the sign of the Griffin
The symbolism of a lion of wisdom
Where the kings have wings
Oh don't you see
Yeah my envy of these things that separate you from me
My envy of things that separate you and me
Categories:
protege, adventure, art, introspection, love,
Form:
Lyric
“My Deepest Passion”, is just three cuisines away
For over forty years, cooking in a restaurant, my forte
I can do an “Ice Carving” of a swan landing in a lake
I can start from scratch and build a five tier Wedding Cake
I’ve used exotic spices, from a hundred different lands
Pick fresh produce from a garden, I’ve never opened cans
I have Saffron flown in from India at $180 a gram
Escargots from Niece, France; where I also order lamb
With whisk in hand; a frying pan, a little wine and roux
I don’t believe there’s a creamy sauce; I don’t know how to do
I love to teach my students the beauty of Culinary Artistry
At Graduation they start their careers and take a part of me
Three cuisines, to master, to become a “Black Hat Chef”
But ill health is telling me I don’t have a lot of time left
From a short order cook to a teacher of the Culinary Art
I Live my dream, a dream that is deep within my HEART
As Executive Chef of a five star resort for the past eleven years
“My Deepest Passion” has kept me going as my retirement nears
Three more cuisines and I become “Black Hat Chef” number eight
The third in the U.S.A. a life long dream come true; if that should be my Fate
Inspired by Amy Green’s Contest “ My Deepest Passion “
Dedicated to my number One Student Kenny Potter my Protege
Categories:
protege, education, food, schooldream, graduation,
Form:
Rhyme
These kids talk comedy like comics getting banned from Comic Con/ Deferral, denial/ Gone viral like vinyl/ Going platinum/ He's golden/ Native of narrative town/ She gets around/ Like a disc she gets dissed/ Here's that disorder you ordered/ that they'll use to market the market and mark it in marker the colour of blonde/ She gets a bad name that rhymes with the band name/ Such a bland name/ like her brand name/ dressed like a peacock/ He's cocky/ She's so tall like a tall tale/ a tall glass of whatever you like/Glassy-eyed rolling too high/ It's high culture/ High stakes/ What's at stake at the stake where they're burning CDs/ This kid's a prodigy/ a protege/ postponing that big mic drop/ like he's Michael/knows he might fall/He's in the limelight/got that lime juice/dripping tunes like he's Limewire/Such a livewire/serving life that lemonade/With a fashion statement on his bank statement/Released a statement to say he's sorry for his part in the story/these kids got Instagram like instant noodles/ Sippin' on that soup like it's sweet tea/ Slurp it up like fit tea/ Prototype of 'pretty boy'/ It's pretty clear he doesn't think these pretty girls are pretty/ He's tired like his tyres/ still trying to tie himself together/ He lies to them/ Till he's lying flat on his face/ these kids are standing in line/ Not understanding/ It's all a joke/ It's a Jack joke/ In a box joke/All boxed up/ In these boxes that he hides in/
We just take it/Then we fake it/We're all actors/Acting so woke since we woke up/You think that's deep?/ We go deep down into these deep cuts/Diving too deep in this dry drought/Now WE'RE ALL OUT!
Categories:
protege, beauty, celebrity, depression, gender,
Form:
Dramatic Monologue
I take your medal out of the treasure box every once in a while
nestled in between hair locks baby shoes and sepia photographs
it portrays a powerful image of glory success victory and loss
and reminds me of ambiguities effort strength youth and deception
Mom you won the laurels as a young German diving champion
summersaulting from the high platform of contest and stealth
your only fault was that of living under Nazi rule and contempt
for equality diversity human rights minorities and ethical laws
But you were still a child in age and at heart innocent and naive
jumped into the waters of body and mind as a juvenile protege
The Allies wanted to confiscate the reward under Denazification
eager to erase evil from history books and the lure in admonition
Your father pleaded to let you keep what was yours to cherish
earned without ideological stride but competitive dedication
and the American officer relented took the badge to a goldsmith
to return it once the Svastika had been erased from the trophy
When I look at the accolade today I see proud eyes and sadness
dust it off at regular intervals and remind myself that all politics
are personal and it’s rightly impossible to escape the verdict of time
but my love for you has never faded as you rest in heaven and weep
9th March 2021
My Mom was thirteen when she received the medal
Categories:
protege, appreciation,
Form:
Free verse
A plastic bag, a windy day,
she's darting, dancing high and low,
coquettish in her flight of fancy,
all in all, a one-bag show;
a street performer with a twist,
I wish you could have seen her,
a holder meant for groceries,
a no-name ballerina.
Erratic, yes, but orchestrated,
it's as if a puppeteer
controlled the choreography,
a protege without a peer.
She soared and swooped, this virtuoso,
then the errant wind was gone,
and I was left to ruminate,
an audience of one.
********
...inspired by 'that scene' in the movie, 'American Beauty,'
once seen never forgotten.
Categories:
protege, inspirational,
Form:
Verse