"misfits" poems
We were misfits
the neglected ********
of a backwards world
that rejected us
not because we were sick
demented or dangerous
but because we didn't prescribe
to a preconceived notion
of what a functioning citizen was.
Not rotten enough to spoil
behind the bars of a prison
just competent enough
to work menial jobs
and drown our sorrows
at the corner pub.
We swallowed this hard truth
the same way we drank our shots
with no chaser
and at times it burnt
maybe even made us tear up
but we never let it beat us
(too strong for that)
We were beautiful
resilient beasts
that could carry the weight
of the world upon our shoulders
and it was heavy
but we would tell ourselves
"doesn't every world need an atlas?"
so we went on holding up the sky
when no one asked it of us.
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
Who falls too far from the tree?
The unlucky,
The unwelcome,
The misfits,
The free.
So save your broken wings.
You'll never know
When you'll find them
Whole again.
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 5:44 AM UTC
To the teachers who never really cared and ignored my problems;
To my fellow ***** “misfits”, etc. Who will no doubt receive more abuse upon my passing, as my tormentors will no longer have me to push around;
To those who never cared, never spoke, probably never knew my name;
To the one true friend, whose caring was the only thing that prevented this event from happening sooner;
To the God, if he does exist, who chose to play a cruel, cruel joke on me when he placed me where he did and surrounded me with so many uncaring faces;
What about my teachers? Will they be sorry to see another student become a statistic? Certainly the administration and Principal will mourn, as my death will not reflect well on them as an institution. Well, I apologize for making the statistics for your administration worse. But I don’t expect an apology for the false sympathies of people.
As for my fellow students, those who made a more significant impact on my life, I know better than to expect my tormentors to mourn.
There’s another group I have not yet addressed: those not like me who left me alone. Or should I say ignored me. I appreciate you sparing me any further harassment, but your inaction, your withheld hellos and how are you’s did more hurt than any name calling. Your inaction effectively excluded me from student life, from the human race. You left me isolated and alone, and no words I could say can convey to you the suffering you caused. I could name names, but in doing so, I would do more now for you than you ever did for me in life.
I do not know what awaits me when I get down off this rope. Will there be a void? Or will I come face to face with God? I just don’t care anymore. If you’re anything like your people, I wouldn’t want to know you. You preached to love one another, yet I’ve felt everything except love from Christians. Even if I knew you were different, well, I'd still reject you. You have left your “followers” to treat people like me poorly. You have allowed so many of the people you “love”, including me, to suffer. So you want me to trust you with my life? I don’t want to spend eternity with a careless deity like you, or with the company you keep.
I’m trying to watch TV but I don’t know what I’m watching. It’s so lonely here. I want to sleep but it just won’t come. I’m so tired of hurting and being alone.
I hope that with my death, there'll be a wider awareness for child abuse and the effects it could have on a person. That's the only wish I have right now. A lot of people will be hurt with my passing, disappointed even, or maybe it won't matter. But I'd like to believe, no matter how much of a ****** up person I am, I died for a cause greater and bigger than myself. That's the only consolation that I have right now.
So that’s it. That’s me. Leaving the world to be a better place.
Goodbye - T
© Copyright Tyler Atherton
Sep 23, 2018
Sep 23, 2018 at 6:41 AM UTC
indie music
dancing shoes
indie music
doesn't cure blues
it starts them
indie music in the rain
indie music standing in trains
indie music for the deranged
indie music for the off-genre-ed
indie music for the off-centered
indie music for mis-fits
that aren't actually
misfits
indie music for the masses
indie music with glassless
eyeglasses
indie music for the misunderstood
or maybe that's all music...
indie music
dancing shoes
indie music
inspires blues
Dec 11, 2013
Dec 11, 2013 at 4:30 PM UTC
we are the army of misfits.
we will take you down.
no more will we take your ****
we will laugh as we watch you drown.
we don't care how much you beg and plead.
you bruised and broke us all.
it's time for us to watch you bleed.
it's time to watch you crash and fall.
Jul 3, 2015
Jul 3, 2015 at 2:25 AM UTC
Churches and cathedrals filled with paralegal misfits,
its just sick how beautiful nations can come to this.
Bowing down on knees just to see a better view,
quoting a bunch of words or two,
you lie sins still comes in multiples.
I know because I've seen many clips being load,
and triggers pulled to explode flesh just to expose the soul.
You wash your faces with holy water,
then when service is over your back on corners bringing wars such as black on black slaughter.
Selling dopamine to fends hellacious scenes seems to be clear to see hell-raiser dreams I seem to intervene,
contradictions to competitions, imperfect visions,
natural destruction I can't believe,
a deep pit I can't perceive.
Arab stores selling crack, Coors and ****** ******
Nobody scores in this world of imperfections.
A twisted method and deal we keep our lips sealed,
and peace is killed all because of the choices of freewill.
Oct 3, 2013
Oct 3, 2013 at 8:34 AM UTC
In biology today,
We learned that a lysosome
Digests old wornout organelles,
And once it becomes too full,
It will burst,
And its digestive enzymes
Will destroy the cell.
I wonder if the heart will do the same,
Take in
all the lonelys,
all the misfits,
all the hurting,
Take it all in,
Until it bursts and destroys you.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 11:57 PM UTC
I am not a poet nor a mathematician, I did not major in science,
I majored in bad decisions, at least one I can call my own.
I am a misfit; I bleed words for a living,
we're all going to die my friends, I plan to die alone.
I am an artist through and through,
from each creative incision my hate for them consumes.
I have grown more lethal; I have become incurable,
I am a hideous villain this time I'm keeping score.
I pity the weak have you not heard of me,
if you have then you're a nobody too.
Cause I love to dwell with misfits, those who feel what I feel,
the glass is not half empty, the glass is definitely full.
It’s filled with poison for us to consume,
so, we embrace our world until our lives are doomed,
to the point, we can **** to the point we feel terribly ill,
but before they **** us, we point our pen and spill.
And yet with blood I cry as the words keep on giving,
every single worthless day until the story ending.
Dear, world have you heard of me? I am the next great villain,
this is just the beginning as my words keep spilling.
One morning the rain fell over my head then time stood still,
that is when I realized how important the rain is.
That is when I realized time never stands still, it moves slowly.
Then it hit me, my words aren't ignored my words are lethal,
I figured it out some time ago but most of you have no clue,
a poetic death is wonderful as long as we set the mood.
I am a misfit; I bleed words for a living,
from each creative incision, you become a misfit too.
Jun 18, 2013
Jun 18, 2013 at 7:00 AM UTC
Maybe we're not mistfits
Maybe we're just as we should be
This world doesn't need
Another prom queen
We're in desperate need
Of the outcasts
The activists
The artists
The conspiracy theorists
Trying to break the system
We don't need more people
Trying to teach us polynomials
We need to see kindness
First hand
Someone to set the example
Maybe we're not misfits
Maybe we're just crazy enough
To make a difference
Aug 28, 2016
Aug 28, 2016 at 11:46 PM UTC
I know why Vincent Van Gogh Cut off his own ear
We are a mad bunch, you see
Poets and painters and playwrights
On the prowl for something to
jump start our perpetual yearnings,
our keen senses and cravings,
on the quest for so much more
than the status quo,
of merely checking off just another day
from our calendars
We are those kinds of people
Who wish to reinvent the world
Often cursing at our failings and insecurites
While obsessively working to shape and sculpt
our view of this planet
To fit our own brand of imagination
To satisfy our starving hopes
and desperate dreams
To foster vivid visions
from the views that are vague
And to wipe away
The nightmares of old
that cry out in us
We believe in make-believe
We who are misfits to "normalcy"
We rarely seem to fit into
The "real world"
Yet we know that this world is
Pure insanity
Stark madness
Sheer perplexion
Yet we are the ones
suffering for the sake
of our art
Often misunderstood
Many times branded as "weirdos"
I can understand the pain
Of not getting my art right
Of not seeing its worth
Because someone sniffed at it
Or scoffed at it
Or blindly passed it by
Many times, we want to break through
And join the world of our works of art
But we can't
We're stuck in the middle of its beauty
And nothingness
Yes
I know why Vincent Van Gogh cut off his own ear
Sep 29, 2011
Sep 29, 2011 at 8:04 PM UTC
I saw you on the news again, aiming lies at civilians
You work like a serf to abhor the herd, which was merged by Lords to bore and encore, like a trap door in a dungeon.
What you earth and managed has got me famished, like the dense or pretentious, the meek and the senseless
And type endings to the finest that cry less, the winos that digress, or the shyest who digest
The plate which was purchased, paid to feed liars by the loudest were poisoned by us rebels running incense to the proudest.
Violently passive when distracted, these masses wreck havoc to have their heads handed to them
Sullen sweet to deter, you lure and reserve what is versed or inferred or implied or implored
Like the goodbyed or complied or the ladies waiting with lunacy lining their luxury gowns
Your disheveled and neat demanding appearance has me locked down with pirates and principle pilots
Dulled sick, they spy less, echo with insist, enlist and exist
As terrorists and presidents
Marked with malice making misfits that were mocked and disgraced, maced or laced by daydreams and magicians to assist beggars behind blueprints constructing islands
Which make slaves in to riots that capture journalists under wide tense
To suspend or impend doom sent hell bent by your priestess
You conduct chaos with fast hints, but quit slow when engaged with your conscience
Touched by divine tricks
Decided and destined, best in business
Prince of the wise man
Captain of the compassionate
Comrades with the crack heads singing anthems in kingdoms
We are heartbreakers painting bad graffiti
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 12:07 AM UTC
Autistically
speaking
I applaud
your intelligence!
flap flap
clap clap
when you
don't think
before
you think
flap flap
clap clap
or open your
*******
******* mouth!
and disparage
and belittle
those with
a learning
disability.
But then maybe
It's you who is
disabled
as you don't
seem able to
distinguish
between what
is right and wrong
what is cruel and kind
flap flap
clap clap
in your ignorance
you are blind
and your
intellectual mind
is a snob
of the worse kind
Looking down
from your high brow
because you
are so clever
I forget
Let's all applaud
and you can remark
(Out of context of course)
that they're all ******* retards
flap flap
clap clap
Well aren't you hard!
You bully when
you say
the dimwits
and the morons,
unloveable,
undateable,
unwanted,
a drain of society
they should all be
put down.
Not somebody
you would choose
to be friends with
or if you did
it would be so you
take advantage of
an idiots good nature
and pure heart!
flap flap
clap clap
Or so you
could look good
in comparison
to them
and maybe it
would knock your
own IQ up
a number or two!
Your average ******
could teach you a
thing about numbers
if you asked them
And you wouldn't want
your own kids
playing
with them
incase they catch it....
Catch what?....
the ability to be
awesome
to think outside
the box
to see feel and
understand
and experience
the world and
people in a
completely
unheard of way.
To smell colours
and taste words,
and your inability
to deviate from
anything other
than your narrow
little mind
really is absurd!
So let's all clap
and flap flap
flap flap flap
and maybe
shriek a bit too!
They are the true
freethinkers
the true misfits
the pure and
the truly blessed
They are
the ones
the people
who are
"different"
"Individual"
as you
would like
to be
flap flap
clap clap
You ignorant ****
Autistically speaking
Who's the ****** now?
©Jacqui Slade
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 3:32 PM UTC
To you we are...
rebels
drunks
self centered ********
lazy
dumb
destructive
trouble makers
criminals
and irresponsible
But really we're...
heart broken
the misfits
young and in love
the dreamers
looking for our place
and most of all misunderstood
accept us
After all we're just
Teenagers.
Oct 24, 2014
Oct 24, 2014 at 4:38 PM UTC
This is to all those misfits
To the Romeo car-washing in Inglewood inlets
To the Hippy selling crystals on the Venice boardwalk
The Magician swallowing 8-balls at the Huntington Beach peer
The Rapper selling CDs in the Ranch Market parking lot
The **** tatting in a makeshift garage
The Poet slinging chapbooks at cafes and rec centers…
Not androids pontificating from lecterns
But grimy roots burrowing deep
Seismic rumblings toppling down
Insured ivory towers
Smashing pilled-paradigms beneath Docs
Hustling and slinging
In the forbidden outshacks of civilization
In tents, over barbed-wire, beside shards
Desperate and burning
For neither Truth or Beauty
But for LIFE
They do not tap wrists
No, they thump chests
To feel it beat
To feel it rage
For fugitive fugues
For new eternities
They embrace
********** romance
Graveyard necromance
The holy hunger for change
Defying commercials and charts
Shivering and howling on streets
Waging guerrilla war
Liberating cubicled-hearts
Dec 23, 2016
Dec 23, 2016 at 8:20 PM UTC
gods will never forgive us
the two misfits
like adam and eve
kicked out from the worlds
gods will chain us
they turned you into hades
banned you from me
you said your last adieu
gods will put a spell on us
neptune came to me today
he said your hades is coming
just listen the sea shells
Feb 26, 2022
Feb 26, 2022 at 5:01 PM UTC
In a busy town
In massachusetts
there is this college
BCC
At this cozy college
there are 8 buildings
But one has capture my heart completly
G BUILDING
Walk through the sliding glass doors
Around the corner
through the lunch room
To the Dinning hall
Noise assult my ears
Beeping video games
shouts of triumph
Kpop and metal music
Tables littered with playing cards
Yugioh
Pokemon
Magic
People as different as can be
From all corners of the social spectrum
Popular
and geeks
Join together in a crazy dance
A swirling brightly colored tango
Joined together
by mutal intrest
Riker, dear Riker
puple fadora ever present
My "Co-Pimp"
a founding father of the trolling company
Damien, Oh damien
Your strangness growing stranger
Your hair of deception
Another founding father
Jose, Dear Lord Jose
You're pervertenss proceeds you
Cat calling
Video gaming
Holly, sweet Holly
Looking innocent and sweet
Masking your wildness
underneath
Nathan, My Naten
My best friend through the ages
Opinions flying
Jungle juice by your side
Casey, My sweet sweet Casey
Ghost story devourer
Trusting you with my secrets
Everyone's little sister
John, John of the lake
Annoying as hell
but loveble all the same
only kind things to say
Josh, Or should I say Shoji
Big Brother
Laptop out
Video game in
Matt, My lovely Matt
This is where we met
Fate intervined
brought us together
This is where I belong
This island of misfits
This G building gang
This is my home.
May 8, 2014
May 8, 2014 at 1:11 PM UTC
I fade a little more
I don’t want to disappear
But some of us are special
And some can’t belong.
There are thoughts burned in my head.
I wonder what they’re made of
I wonder if they’re real.
I’ll never know the truth
There isn't any truth.
We’re all just misfits
And we don’t belong.
© Ben Ditmars 2014
Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
Let’s talk of love,
Of sunsets,
And peace,
Let’s talk of roses
And romance,
And full glasses of champagne.
Let’s,
Talk of joy
And having a baby,
And windchimes,
And feasts,
And,
Well,
Anything.
But let’s not talk of hate,
Or war
Or crimson rivers;
Wounds crackling with pus,
Popping scabs,
The sizzling gashes on my face.
Don’t speak of lost soldiers with forgotten limbs.
Don’t think,
Of discrimination,
And sorrow,
And divided skin.
Don’t waste a single breath
On misfits,
Outcasts,
Or widows.
Ignore conversing about infants
Left in the gutter,
Or orphans without arms,
Or bombings,
Or fire in the streets.
Don’t mention parents
Who **** their children.
I don’t want to know
About ******
Trauma,
And ****
Don’t look at the spires
Constructed of bodies,
With insects crawling out holes,
And eating out frowns.
Absolutely never speak,
Of anger and sadness
And anything in between.
Why bother with illness
Of mind,
Body,
Spirit.
Forget about the times
When liberty bled.
That’s not on my conscience.
Why mention families,
Torn,
Apart.
Why speak of agony,
And brokenness,
And death?
Don’t speak,
Of suffering
At all.
But let’s talk,
About anything,
And everything,
Anything at all.
As long
As it’s not,
You.
Oct 6, 2018
Oct 6, 2018 at 11:14 AM UTC
30th of February
She lost him like the 30th of February
Unpredictable like surprises on 14th
Unforgettable like the Mardi Gras
Unreachable even on a leap year
Unfair like this short-dated month.
He lost her like the 30th of February
Inexplicable like the missing days
Invisible like the last winter winds
Intriguing as the first dewdrops of spring
Indelible like her name inked on his wrist.
They lost them like the 30th of February
Mistreated like the melting snow
Misshapen is the love left to grow
Misfits of Aquarius and Pisces
Misguided by a star-crossed astrology.
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 6:37 AM UTC
WE never camouflage with the masses nor follow trends and direction out of gullibility. The path WE're on may signify bleakness in the days to come and may look filthy to some.
Wait, the plural emphasised just struck my concern and weakness..are WE unified? or perhaps unity to US is all contrary and single word equivocation. Wait.. who are WE?..that question repetitively asked by my subconscious sarcastically.."I" answer "WE are who WE are. The misfits"
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 2:44 AM UTC
superstar of the lowest level of the food chain
they marvel at my wondrous acts
i am enticing, raucous, too loud
the prima donna of the freakshow ballet
they would pay
to be seen with me
the perpetrator of chaos
hoodies with spikes on them
batman tshirts
and too tight
skinny jeans
tired pink sneaks
from my wandering days
i am the queen of misfits
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 1:49 AM UTC
another
smothered lover
in the Hollywood hills
unbag the bottle
crack the seal
oh the appeal
of intake
for the sake
of intoxication
so meek and unique
in gurgled screams
a pixie in the hand of a king
compelled
to discretely
capture the beauty
in eternity
expelled
i just felt
i had to nest a shell
and befell
clearing her residual
flirtatious signals
even in the squirms
and even in the squeals
even though i know
she yearns
to be hooked by her gills
dragged through landfills
in a projected field
where she would yield
and kiss me.
i'm gonna pretend
to love her
as i tenderly
shove her
in the river
of our love
take her under
my loving thunder
and plunder her
when drugged
dazed in her wonder
i hold her under
from above
if only for a moment
we locked eyes in love
she fit me like glove
remnants
disposed of
in a rug
posed so beautifully
for the smack
hack and rip
one pretty *****
dumped
in an irrigation ditch
triumphed
our wordless
relationship
its over *****
move on with it
in the mouths
of varmints
oh
charming
as im clicking *****
on key chains
sticking misfits
with loose lips
usually homeless
decoys
here to destroy
nothing
in my twisted ploy
to employ
maximum points
conjoint
my addictive anger
to something a little stranger
im going to dangle
her entrails
in front of her eyes
while i'm bangin her
shes looking so surprised
from every camera angle
the mangled piece of ****
what a lamo
hypnotized
in the passing of life
in the
blood
the ***
the ****
and the knife
Aug 20, 2012
Aug 20, 2012 at 9:22 PM UTC
To set a goal and be "class clown"
Is not something good, I'm stating
I was the one who wrote his words
I was the "class clown in waiting"
A yard stick and a winter toque
A voyaguer I now was
To inherit a new character
As I aged, became a loss
Was bullying the reason for
Hiding behind a mask
Or was it something deeper
That made me take this task
A true class clown has no regrets
Of what they say or do
Their only goal is laughter
And that they'll get from you
Attention seeking misfits
Not in my book, there was no way
You couldn't be a misfit
And say what they would say
A true "class clown"'s an artist
Knowing when to make a scene
Knowing when a situation
Needs a lift, or at least a lean
Voices with strange accents
Silly faces set the stage
You get the class all laughing
While the teacher fumes with rage
Move on from the "class clown" name
And pursue it with a crowd
Do you really crave attention?
Do you want the laughter loud?
Or were you starved for some attention
Something you never got at home
Were you troubled as a child
Did it cause your mind to roam?
Were you deficient in your memory?
Couldn't handle work at school?
Or did you really crave the laughter?
Because on stage you could be cool
I envy people who were clowns
There were many in my life
To just be free with who they were
To dance upon the knife
I never was the top banana
I was always second, on the side
I always worked well as the set-up
But I came along and rode the ride
Apr 16, 2013
Apr 16, 2013 at 11:37 AM UTC
Talking twenty-four-seven
Kissing like there's no end
Being around your presence all the time
And you say we're just friends.
You forbid me to see other guys
Yet I could just see jealousy in your eyes
Wanting to be my only one
Then you toss me away, is that so wise?
Crossing the lines of being protective
With me, you're just beyond possessive
But when we get down to business,
**** you're more than aggressive.
But the way your eyes travel around me
How your hands linger all over my body
Doing the exact same routine twice a week
Making love, just friends, steadily.
One night you treat me like a princess
And the morning I wake up you say I'm a mess
We've got to stop this, whatever this is
We're too loose, fragile, and reckless.
And aside from our enclosed relationship
We still manage to keep a friendship
But whenever you mention your other "friends"
It just makes my heart rip.
Within our complications and misfits
We're still each other's favourites
And you say we're just friends?
I'm tellin' you, that's bullsh*t.
-djs
Jul 2, 2013
Jul 2, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC