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SweetClementine Sep 2016
My arms pain from lifting myself up.
Everyone is so kind, it's almost too much
to bear. It's overwhelming to think
that they might actually care
about The Outsider.
The "finds a corner so she can hide"-er.
The girl who you think looks sad,
Doesn't smile, or perhaps is even mad.
But no, I am none of these things.
I just feel like my calm nature is hanging by a string.
So really- it's no big deal.
I have dealt with this horrible feeling
for years.
And although your kind words brought forth unexpected tears,
I think I am no longer a blob of grey.
I'd, like to think I'm doing great.
I guess I could put myself out there and interact
but the stress of that alone is enough to give me an anxiety attack
so please- be kind to The Outsider.
But not too kind; you might upset her.
My first HelloPoetry Poem! Please feel free to give me constructive critique, or tell me what you like!
FRED CARVER

3 days after Fred Carver
Was shot dead
In a craps game
We all gathered
At Sparkman’s Funeral Home
For the visitation
I was standing
Behind Fred’s ex-wife Thelma
When she reached into her purse
And dropped something
In the casket
I leaned over her shoulder
And watched a black spider
Crawl up Fred’s face
And disappear in his hair
-Dennis Gulling
Used by permission of Zombie Logic Press and available at the Chemung Shamans outsider poetry slam team page http://chemungshamans.blogspot.com/2016/05/three-poems-from-dennis-gullings-blood.html
gray rain Apr 2016
Everyone here seems to know each other
not like a son knows his mother
but they know each other

and I'm sat looking over
hundreds of people
yet alone I feel

in an unknown city
with people wearing white
people dressed to fight

they fight with swords
but not with shields
in straight lines
is where they choose to shine
It doesn't matter how much people try to include me or how much I include myself. I'll always be different to everyones eyes. I'll always be an outcast, an outsider...
Julie Grenness Feb 2016
Does my computer dream?
Is this puzzle what it seems?
What are a computer's dreams?
Maybe dreams exist in this machine,
The outsider in my room,
Designed to make us feel like fools,
Addictions seductive,
Hitech savvy so productive,
A puzzle, so it seems,
Does a computer ever dream?
Feedback welcome.
Kaitlin Floyd Dec 2015
Would anyone really care,
If I vanished without a trace?
If my screams echoed the hallways,
If briny tears stained my face?

Everyone is bonded so strongly,
How can I join these ties?
Will I always be an outsider,
Seen as nothing more than a fly?

What am I doing wrong?
Can you help me understand?
Do I not deserve your kinships,
What’s wrong with who I am?

*I want for someone to care,
To catch me if I fall.
Because if no one cares about you,
Do you exist at all?
Cordelia Rilo Sep 2015
I see myself
through the windows of trains
in different cities.
Sometimes I have earphones in
and I’m staring out the window
as the light passes over the tops of buildings.

Sometimes I have a girl asleep on my shoulder
while colored houses
line the hills.

Sometimes I’m crying
and no one on the train notices.

I see myself as an outsider
looking at a picture,
or a movie frame,
moving quickly by to another moment
that will be documented.
Breakfast
The morning spins lazily
out of the Universe’s black eye
like a surveillance camera
******* my paranoia.
I eat a small breakfast
of toads and do my coughing
exercises.
In the cellar the flesh
incinerator purrs for dinner
and is only satisfied with
one species of rare mammal.
My exotic summer guests,
strewn on the floor
like pickup sticks,
are becoming a burden,
so I toss one in the furnace
and hazily return to bed.
From http://punkassbook-jockey.tumblr.com/
The Dullard

A well intentioned
Comrade dropped
Off a basket of learning
Tools for my niece and nephew.

Among the colorful array
Of big red dogs
And purple dinosaurs
I find a book titled
"God Thought of It First."

I paused to consider
Pernicious Anemia,
Gary, Indiana, Republicans,
The Ford Pinto...

I sure never would
Have thought of it.
from www.outsiderpoetry.com
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