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Jo Feb 2016
Start from the beginning.Feels like it was yesterday. The best of my friends stay, the rest of em' fade away.
  Now there's nothing but green lights. The reason we stand in place, so time doesn't miss me. I move at a faster pace.
  Don't care what they say. They'll never change us. Underdogs. We live for today and no one can blame us. Underdogs).
  'Cause when you're the underdog. They never get down. All they do is stop and stare, under the surface. We got a purpose. We are the Underdogs.
  When you fall down, get up, then you'll be right back,on track.
  What is perception? Its just a reflection of who I am. At school you were so cool. Now you're just a grown fool. These kids can be so cruel.
  Don't care what they say. They'll never change us. Underdogs.We live for today and no one can blame us. Underdogs.
  'Cause when you're the underdog. They never get down, all they do is stop and stare, under the surface. We got a purpose. We are the Underdogs.
  No I can't look down. Underdog. If I could do it again. Underdog.I wouldn't change a thing. Underdog.
   I'm living out my dreams and I'm so close. I came too far to turn back now. The world's at my feet.I know my destiny. Mission complete
  Don't care what they say. They'll never change us. Underdog. We live for today and no one can blame us. Underdog.
  'Cause when you're the underdog. They never get down, all they do is stop and stare,under the surface. We got a purpose. We are the Underdogs.
  When you fall down, get up. You're just a beginning. You're still just pretending, then you'll be right back on track.
Hailey Mar 2018
Everyone says they love
the underdog.
The people we see as underdogs are
no where near it.
The underdogs are the people
who sit in silence. The underdogs are
people who are veterans of mental
war fair. The underdogs
are the people we see not in
the back of the class but right in the
front with a smile on their face telling
a fictional story. There are so many
underdogs who dream of living
like kings but get left in the dust like
nothing. Those are who the underdogs are.
R A Sanders Feb 2013
Are you okay,
Your breathing hard,
Maybe it's finally all sunk in,
Maybe you're losing your mind,
It's been a hard few months,
But I swear to you, me and you will be fine,
That's just what we do,
When you don't have a choice, you just live,
You do what you have to do,
All you do is fight through,
That's what we know,
Don't be ashamed of that,
We're always the underdogs,
But even the underdogs hit it big sometimes.
Mateuš Conrad Nov 2018
.like any western, but unlike every western... the true grit... one eyed... it's not called: i'm blinking... it's called... the blink. the English language can never have... what is it... gender neutrality? the words are already gender neutral! the words in the English are neither masculine, or feminine... it's ******* to ask for something that's already in place! you know what obstructs the gentrification of words in the English language? how the sun is not feminine and the moon is not masculine? the articles... the English orientated their language around a-the        slightly missing the -ism... the English didn't create their language with a gender orientation of nouns, but other European languages orientated their nouns around gender inclusiveness... but you can't just... change the ******* grammar... call a triangle a ******* rhombus on a whim that belongs in the asylum... blah blah do ****... is this how civilized language is supposed to disintegrate into?! this is not religion... you can't simply replace grammatical dogma with heretical "protestantism" to gain something counter to 1 + 1 = 2, or a + t + t + e + s +t = attest... yes, confirm... what with that the politicians are doing in Canada... post-nationalism? post-nationalism, ensured with a post-grammatical structure of what should be the post-nationalist playground of the use of language? the two... together?! so... no nationalism, and no grammar... seems about the right time to separate the state from the state... and call the following dynamic: juggle act: catch one if you can! how can you expect to change the grammatical sub-structure of English?! nouns are not gentrified in the equivalent ontology of other, European languages! how can you expect gender neutrality... when the nouns of said language... are already gender neutral!? and that's because English is particular in the definite (the) and the indefinite (a) article articulation... this is the crux... the pivot... as to why nouns are not associated with either femininity or masculinity... which is why i didn't learn French in high-school... i was taught French from the rubric of grammar... i was taught the rules, before i was being taught to speak, and break the rules of speaking English... who the **** requires to learn a language, having to learn the arithmetic of lettering in the encompassing genesis of staging a craft of the linguist with, said grammar?! language is not universal... noun is no surd... verb is no integer... je suis is no 1 + 1 = 2... but like i said before... you're talking about pandering to linguistic retards... they might not be mad enough to enjoy the rainbow plethora of pharmacology... but sure as ****... they're linguistic retards... sorry, the saddest truth is... somehow... the most fun to attest in concurrence; oh right... that western, true grit... well... whether you're John Wayne or Jeff Bridges... one eye still intact? it's not a blinking... it's called the blink... no, and it's not even a blink... see how English is fascinating when singularity and pluralism enters the arena of the direct / indirect articulation? and to think the English wanted to debate a non-existent gender association of nouns that the French, the Polaks can have... but you sorry *******... ain't getting it!

so...

    a juggling act...

(insert a snigger)

   lindsay shepherd's
video: exposing grad school
(my m. a. experience)

and...............

         bon jovi's
blaze of glory

       bon jovi! wooooooooooooo!

god, i'm so stereotypical.
i should have signed up
becoming a side-burner
for some ******* Kentucky
redneck.

p.s. is stereotypical
synonymous
with predictable?
that's actually a genuine question
of, rather than answering the question
itself, answering the per se
curiosity; savvy?

so what is it... Bub "the blue" Clí 'n' Son?
***** needin'
to ****?
watcha gonna do Bub?
               hold up the, "spanker"?!

---------------------------------------

and some days, in england, and it's june,
and 10pm feels like 7pm in some other season
and it reminds me of the white nights
of st. petersburg....
   insomnia and ******* a girl for seven hours...
oh the ******* bit was fun,
don't get me wrong,
   i had to wait 2 weeks before she let me
do it to her in the bath...
****** ready... she was on her period,
but misguided:
  last time i heard...
            ******* on a period eases
the period pains...
      eh... gritty flesh bits on the rubber...
problem? what problem?!

    no wonder then: i hate drinking buddies...
people dumb down upon ingesting
alcohol, i'm talking: 2D objects in 3D space
akin to fern bushes in the 1st tomb raider
(black holes - a paradox,
   a 2D object spinning really fast in
an infinite 3D space... copernican east?
copernican west? i hope the rabbi knows)...

days like this, oh all the days like this...
when you wake up,
jump out of bed... and dance naked in your
room listening to KULT's
          brooklyńska rada Żydów -
two music genres i never got into:
punk and rap...
   well... "mediocre" punk...
   californian, the offspring,
  the usual suspects of the ramones,
*** pistols, stiff little fingers, mainstream *******...
ska... now we're talking...
hip hop contra rap: now we're talking...

such a beautiful day...
    a chestnut mushroom cream sauce with
snippets of turkey, of course the fresh parsley...
bay leaf, one clove, two all-spice buds...

    and... i'm really tired of looking up
h'america's ***...
    i sometimes thank god that i'm not
english for the sole reason that i don't have
to mind the "special relationship",
like i'm being owed or owning someone
for the respects of sharing the same lingo...

you want the other "special relationship"?
it began with Casimir III...
east... well: central europe...
eastern europe without borders,
purely geographic: is situated somewhere
in russia...
          borders condense...
last time i visited the home away from home
i found new music...
pablopavo i ludziki...
             the polonaise and the jews...
how many terrorist attacks in poland
while the islamists were having a funfair
elsewhere? gullible schvabs and swedes...
  (swabians, that's a slang for the ol' deutsche
deutsche back east - kacap ('tss wet snare
on the c) for the russians)...
       0...
                  funny (even)...
the map of recent terrorist attacks...
     and... the map of the spread of the bubonic
plague... a certain region remains
immune...
       even i agreed with my uncle:
better the catholic ******* than islamic
propaganda... mind you...
        sh'ite islam: thumbs up!
always pay due dues to the underdogs...
and if islam truly was a religion
to gobble up all other religions...
      a schism over such a petty affair
including Ali - the son in law of Muhammad
and Muhammad breaking his promise...

    oy vey!
     how else was i going to get out of bed
to dance naked to anything
but the ska song: brooklyńska rada Żydów?
what other option?
      black ox orkestar's bukharian?
                                             oy vey!
funny story from amsterdam...
me and this egyptian were sharing a hostel
room with these two germans,
who wasted 'shrooms on sitting indoors
watching h'american dad...

   we took a different route...
   he smoked, i drank, he had a bottle of
***** with him,
architect, i can't remember his name,
a keen eye for grand doodles in a notebook...
but then i decided to take a ****
after a few beers while he put
headphones into my ears and played
me le trio joubran's - masar...
        i even managed to attract the attention
of a dutch girl who seemed...
rather gobsmacked...
   i literally went into the nod-state
associated with ****** junkies...
but with eyes closed and mouth agape...
feeding off the ****** of the void...
i.e. the ****** of the void?
    when you're not chained to thinking...
the self disintegrates,
              thinking disintegrates...
and with the music: the void became
pulverizing me with vibration after
vibration echoing a chanced comparison
to a heart-beat mingling with
the fuzzy rippling and vibrating effect of
   the eye-sight of some insect...

yes yes... blah blah...
    boasting... boasting my ***...
am i here to feel sorry for myself,
to drown in my take on some perfect love
i could offer?
      no really...
               i've always had the two best
companions to begin with...
my shadow and a blank piece of pixel
paper perfectly coupled to my idle /
itchy finger-tips...
   well, a third: ms. amber...
                         i learned over a year ago
that drinking with familiar people
****** me off... drinking with strangers?
oh sure, great time...
the best times when drinking in public
are with strangers...
"friends" (fwends) are just too nostalgic,
they want to remind you of something,
notably some micro-aggression nonsense
of a past grievance...
                   don't drink with "friends"...
every time i did: i would wake up
the next morning *******...
cursing them, putting on a mocking voice...

me me me... oh poow meeeeeeeeeeee...
   *******...
               so? i learned to adapt in
liking my own company...
it's not much, but sure as **** beats
listening to a bunch of drunken, nagging housewives;
i'm pretty sure a man should have been
in that slot of the space between my
3rd and 4th pint of guinness;
alas! not to be!
Styles Jan 2015
**** this civilized **** I am set, like an object. So don't object. My eyes on the prize like my future subjects. All these haters is suspect, I pay them no respect. That's how a King treats his subjects. I blow minds like lare jets-- then take marks and get set. It could be the bad or the ugly, l'm as good as it gets. I'm raising the bar like I'm working my pecs, working hard, baring arms like I'm funk master flex. I'm laughing so hard it's hurting my chest. instead of getting money I'm enjoying my wealth,  weight a couple rounds, then rise up in belts. My Dawgs underdogs, like we training vets. I weigh the pros agasint cons, then Shakakon like I'm K. West. Extend my arm and drop a bomb when this mic turn on. My future brighter than prospects, standing on Prospect while the Sunset waiting to get it on
jacky Jan 2014
often I feel like a girl
sometimes beautiful, always insecure
listening, talking, crying
forced to write this kind of thing

often I feel like a boy
for if I was smart, you call me nerd
for if I can throw your books in the dump, you call me cool
trying so hard to be strong, to be accepted

often I feel like a girl
pretty in pink, you’d say you’d ‘tap that’
but then
have you really been inside a real girl

often I feel like a boy
whose voice you've never heard
only the shrieks when you lock me on the locker room
I never ******* asked, to enter in this asylum

often I feel like a bird
trapped in this four walls
obligated, machined, regulated
to which they say the best four years of our lives
I came from a Science High school and I think I did not experience and witnessed this kind of High School, but this is one for those who had and for those who are having, for the voices of the underdogs.

We are all underdogs (in our own stupid ways), you've got to admit that.
Tate Morgan Jun 2014
With the start of the first inning
as the wind whistled through the tree's
Our short stop had his shoulder broke
and the fates blew in on the breeze

This team was a thorn in the side
of the Harding Presidents Club
It was on this night my son Tate
was scheduled to play as a sub

The kid pitching for North Union
hurled a cooking heater down field
You could hear that freight train coming
as it's hide was 'bout to be peeled

Their coach then rallied his talent
pressing their shoulders to the wheel
like natives dancing 'round a fire
driving devils who'd struck a deal

A death defying mid-air, catch
the bounding, ball tossed on the run
The Devil was in town this night
riding in on the setting sun

They dove and slid then nearly flew
as if the angels rode their backs
While running bases half possessed
plowing the field with cleated tracks

No one remembered the last time
that our team had beaten this bunch
That night they took the field in style
serving them all up for their lunch
,
The dice kept coming up seven
and oh prophetically so
When the sun had finally set
the score was seven to zero

Come ye father's follow your child
through the tough times every one
For the oft chance will someday come
when they will have finally won


Tate

© 2012 Tate Morgan

Written
April 12, 2014
Americans love the underdogs.
original
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1342622/

Original video poem of the same
http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/aristate/1354978/
Americans love the underdogs. It is such an American thing to do. Because the thrill of a win from a team thought washed up gives us all hope that the dreams that were washed away in our own youth could be rekindled and burn again.Such is the nexus of the American soul!
Yenson Sep 2018
So what's it they have, what's it all about
Work for the bossman.
Use your brawn Earn your pittance,
Then eat, Pub, drink, **** and pay the bills
Go footie, shout and scream, at one with your tribe
then  go sit in front of the telly, play at family
Week is done
Till the morrow when you do it all again

How about a soap opera, you direct and act
Gotta a Royal down the road ripe for the taking
Lets go invade, see how the other halves lives
Come, lets all join and become Kingmakers
Under our ***** thumbs he goes, we pull the strings
Entertainment for the masses, beats our mundane cages

For once, we are the bosses and can pull the strings
Knowledge is Power and its all here in Mao's Red Book
Lies, fabrication, distortions and misinformation
Disinformation, half-truths, slander it ain't no matter
Everything he says will be taken down and used against him
This is control at our finger tips, this is power to play with
He's going through the Red mill, drilled and ground into dust

Look we've got him as the puppet, we destroy all his trappings
So gather round and join the fun, this is us like God
Lights, action, now you do this and this and watch us play him
what do you mean puppet ain't moving or re-acting
OK let's do this, you go there and you do this and do this now
Still no action, OK let's try this, if you go there and say ah
You drive here, you stand there, you watch here, you stand
Nothing still, OK you come here, you put this here
Still nothing, This puppet is NUMB, this puppetting is no fun

They had drawn up the master plan, written their ****** script
The puppet looked and laughed, what a bunch of prime morons
No substance, no value system, no morality or basic sense
Infantile, one track minded sociopaths full of flaws and manure
Go back to your drinking and ******* and your mundanity
The united pack of crooks, ****, racists and the vacuous coerced

Go look after the Leading Lady stuck with rehearsals and scripts
The imagined romantic interest paying debts for UK residency
Waiting for the Prince to come running and tomfoolery begins
The bit part actors are still playing, too stupid to realize
The control is on them, their time energy and effort all a sham
Our Directors are directing making it up as they go along
The supporting actress are still hopping and hoping
The new characters are still buying false scripts and playing
Playing with themselves as Puppet stands and watches it all

They wheel out their demented scribes and brain dead peoters
To write dirges, glooms, ******* and negativities galore
Casting their dark fantasies and the rancid spittles of their dregs
Muds from the festered pools of their putrid minds dresses up
Ready to visit nightmares of their making from their darknesses
Areas thankfully unknown to a mind and soul untainted, unsoiled
As is their bitter lives, valueless breeding and hate and prejudices One ignorance and neurotic existence, the depravities of depraves..

Poor, poor imbeciles, they really don't have much in their lives
Illusions and delusions by the bucket loads, anything would do
To remove them from their sad, miserable sorry realities
Hey its Clockwork orange, we are all stars in our *****
Diversions to their mundane, unrewarding and depressing realities
Their frustrations and powerlessness, their insignificance
At last a vent for their frustrated lives, miseries loves company
A release valve for pains of centuries being underdogs and serfs
A safe playground for psychos, control and pain in abundance
Let's call it Revolution and add Republic to make it more palatable

Down at the palace of Attrition, a blameless man sits and muses
Crazed dogs of war at the gates, salivating insanely, bloodthirsty
Watching Controllers tieing chains to masses and jerking them
Into frenzied hysteria, nothing beats permitted wickedness shared
Dropping poisons and acids into hungry jaws, patting heads
Shouting rallying calls, we got the Bastille of the blinds going on
Scientists please take notes, this is Herd mentality and Groupthink
This is how to manipulate the masses and incite Hate unawares
Majority wins here, this is Democracy, this is people power

Do, you are ******, don't, you are ******, Hate abides all.
Puppet sees injustices but better to play dumb and numb
They can't abide a black do well, hate spews from fear
Hate festered by the unique decency of a successful blackman
Who had all they wished for but could never have or be
Riddled with lust and envy they merely went on to steal his
But that wasn't enough, the bullies and cowards had to ruin.
Under the pretext of them and us, blue versus Red they lied
Rabid racists takes another black man down, green bottle falls

Man proposes, God disposes, UK, KKK now play god
Thy will will be done O'Lord, I am but your servant
It's rather flattering being The Real Deal in this production
Confirmation of differences betwixt Gifted and the Depraves
A Travesty full of sound, false images and fury by the loonies
A Red Racist Production by Idiots and psychos for fools and sociopaths.

Lights, camera, action
Yawn.......................
"Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."
“Neither a man nor a crowd nor a nation can be trusted to act humanely or to think sanely under the influence of a great fear.” .
M Oct 2011
All day, every day I'm terrified of you.
Again and again your fist makes contact with my skin.

Broken spirit, heart, will, pride.
Be happy because you broke me.

Can't you just smell the pride seeping off of you
    as you beat me up again.
Can anybody see me? Help me?

Dead.
    I'm dead.
****.

Everyone looks the other way. Nothing wrong happens in their worlds.
Even the teachers.

Fear seeps into my bones when I see you in the halls.
'*******!' I scream in my head, but can never get the words
   out my mouth.
"***" you whisper, in a way that cuts deeper than any scream.

Go away. Please.
Get bored of me.

How can someone be this awful?
Help me.

It was stupid of me to fight back, because
I can't breath after you kick me in the stomach.

Just make my life a living hell, please
   be my guest.
Justice is ****.

Keep an eye on me, in case I start to get
   happy again. That could be a problem.
Key word: Target.

Love is foreign now.
Lonely is not.

My days are black. Are you happy now?
Maybe your life is ****, so you have to make
   my life the same.

Never has someone hated me so much
   just for being alive.
Nice welcome to high school.

"Oh who would ever give a **** about you?"
Obviously, no one.

Please... Please...
People, why can't you see me?!

"Queen *****!" I call you.
"Queen of the rats" you call me.

Running, running, running again.
Running in vain for you will only get me later.

Sometimes I can avoid you, or manage to get away with
    only a shove or an insult.
Stay and beat me if you want, if it makes you feel better
   because I am giving up for now.

"Tomorrow, today won't seem so long" I tell myself.
Tell me help is coming.

Underdogs always win in the end right?
Under your power is not where I thought I would be.

Vacant are my eyes, for you have driven my soul away.
Vandalized locker, I know it was you.

When will I be safe?
What did I ever do to you?

Xanax would be perfect to OD on.

You're a monster… But
you have all the power.

Zero Bullying Tolerance, that's
   *******.
Mateuš Conrad Sep 2018
.why? why?! why would i even be, remotely,
concerned?
    esp. with a story from yesterday
akin to that of a feminist poster being
taken down, that read:

    woman
        women
    noun
   adult human female

because some, sorry... i love the word:
****** / doctor "thought" the word:
woman was endangering
transgender people...
                                                 wow!
looks like the homosexuals are on the attack...
can you be a misogynist and a homosexual,
simultaneously? well... apparently you can!
bravo! encore! encore!
    so should i be bothered when such antics
are taking place in: of all places, Liverpool?
**** it, i'm going to have a beer and watch
the sunset - or at least that's what i thought
a few hours prior.


the **** was i doing, watching channel 4
news?!
      i do remember watching it...
why was i watching it?
     for all it's worth...
                they do a pretty solid job,
**** me, they even reported on Iranians
using instagram...
                        gotta love the Shiites...
probably my favorite Muslims...
   given their Persian background -
proud face, like those native Americans
in the film hostiles:
   proud faces...
                        well... if you're going
to root for someone, root for the "underdogs"...
those Persians were never going
to bow down to the camel jockey Arabs,
sure as **** they wouldn't, and didn't...
ah ****...
  that's the problem with drinking,
and writing at the same time...
   in vino veritas...
     shh... it's a secret...
                    one downfall of drinking
and writing...
                      hmm...
                         ­     really hard to tell a lie...
by god it's hard to tell a lie
while drinking...
     why? there's no fun in telling a lie,
spinning a fictive narrative,
marketing character understudies or
fan-bait...
                a bit like:
Chopin...
                     versus a ******* orchestra...
(yeah, sorry about that...
   oath words, i swear,
   are compiled in the category of and:
i.e., they're conjunctions...
   otherwise i'd stutter, or something much
worse, like a writer's block & ****)...
wait...
   what was i going to say?
ah!
   channel 4 news... sure... it pure left,
globalism, multi- blah blah blah
and further blah to the nth term...
i couldn't believe it though!
   obviously the two stories were going
to be spoken about side by side...
     first... the second arrest of Tony Robinson...
apparently yet another, or another yet:
contempt of court...
     scenes from the Old Bailey...
and, d'uh, obviously,
   Jeremy Corbyn opening a placard of
a sq. dedicated to the far right
    "terrorist" attack on... ***...
  can't remember her name...
    Joe... hey Joe... where do you think
you're going with that gun?
Janie's got a gun...
                   this **** never gets old:
Chris Rea: Josephine...
       i send you all my love,
  and every single step i take
i take for you...
i would never believe that so much of
Van Morrison has that many
  jazzy accents in the oeuvre...
moondance:
   and a crisp, cloudless early
afternoon illuminating the birds,
the blues of flowers and the contract
of the about to shoot
  into embers of होली Holī
envious greens...
turmeric, chilli powder,
     cumin, fading cardamon,
garam masala,
                      coriander...
cinnamon,
           then the masalas:
   tandori, achar, tikka....
    then korma and the sri lankan
powder...
blue indians have their celebrations
in spring,
  i'm about to spectate the celebrations
of autumn... win win...
but that's still not the point...
channel 4 news...
  oh ****!
  Gavin!
   Gavin Mcinnes!
    **** me!
          hmm...
   love the tartan suit...
******* looks plush!
about as much style as matt preston
  (from Australian Masterchef)...
**** it,
   i forgot which of the chicken
wings recipes i am supposed
to make tomorrow....
                               *******!
the Azerbaijan recipe, or the...
oh ****... o.k. i can tell the difference
between the porcelain of the Japanese,
and say... someone from Thailand...
whatever... i'll cook something anyway.
April Watson Mar 2013
Slimy sea feet.
Sandy salt tongues.
Gabby gulls and cautious *****.
Boardwalk smiles and sticky ice cream fingers.
Ripened hearts and eager tide eyes.
Tears in my ears from the satisfied sun seeking silence.

This is where I belong.
This is where I know God.

I don’t belong in a town that can offer me nothing.
I don’t belong in a massive city that’ll swallow me up.
I don’t belong at silly soirees or late night parties.
I don’t belong at the top tier or down with the underdogs.

I belong on the shores.
I belong arm in arm with my confidantes, walking through downtown streets of some sweet town.
I belong hand in hand with my true companion with our toes in the sand.
I belong sipping soda with my sisters giggling endlessly as we watch some cheesy chick flick.
I belong hugging my mama who I will never stop loving for an instant.
I belong sitting with my father drinking tea in the purest, sweetest silence, for that is how we were made to be.

I belong listening to my dad’s tall tales and my mothers soothing words.
I belong holding my stomach with my face streaked with tear drops from some joke that is only funny if you were there.
I belong forever in the future with that one, the one whom was made for me; the Tilney to my Catherine.
I belong holding the gazes of my friends as we try to hold back our cackles, tears, and even our own words.

I belong in the waves of the sea.
I only belong in the happiest of salty tears.

I can’t belong where I’m too afraid to face my fears.
I won’t belong in broken gears.
I’ll not for a moment belong in heartbroken wares.  

I’ve never belonged in them, but they live inside me.
They have and always will be
My demons and my skeletons
Yet you will always see them on my sleeves
So everyone can see they do not devour me.
We are the Misfits, the underdogs
We are the uncomfortable silence being sprinkled like salt around the dinner table
for we’d rather drink the tap water
We are the influx of doctor’s bills drowning mother’s in shame confusion and debt-
our father’s were confused too but then they learned to forget.
We are the daddy’s little girls who used easy bake ovens and had barbies by the dozens
Those childrens toy’s turned into drugs and boys
so now we undress like Barbie and get baked
like the sweet potato my momma left for me in her human sized oven
All of a sudden
We are the little boys playing with power rangers
pretending that curfew was our only danger
But don’t you love it when they call you big Poppa?
From poppin a slam dunk to poppin a cap in your homeboy’s head
Because you’d rather be a gangster than listen to what momma said

We are the young men getting less than, five hours of rest in
a week because there’s a mermaid who stole his heart and hid it so deep
the **** boy’s trying to grow gills
We are the mermaids falling for sea monsters
who knew of the danger but didn’t give a ****.

( She’d do anything for you you know that? If you went to jail I swear to God she’s rob a bank just so you could both be incarcerated.)

We are the youngest girl and boy in the emergency room at 1 in the morning
I can hear my mom’s boyfriend in the corner there snoring
We are the youth with confidence like sinking ships
We live off of prayers for the oncoming apocalypse

Welcome to Misfit Island
the fog on the lake at 2 in the morning looks like a sheet of glass
separating a goblet of moonlight and a mug of dark fright
We jump on the beach like astronauts and forget everything our grandparents taught us
We are the lovers loving with the strength of every particle beam or lazer
because if it wasn’t love it’d sure as hell be a razor

We choose moonlight and philosophy over structured life hypocracy
because we are the misfits.
We are the listeners, the observers
We are the panic attacks written between your math quiz and midnight purge
We are the bipolar, manic, ridden with panic, schizophrenic, depressed, never not stressed
Eating disordered, Addicted, and every other diagnosis written 2013’s edition of DSM
We are the soldiers going to war with our own country day in and day out
there’s no voter’s booth in the universe that can make us put our weapons down.

But we are the misfits, plural
we come to this beach to laugh and to cry, giving every answer a capital WHY  
because our insides differ
we are not the same
Welcome to Misfit Island, we are young and insane
Do not be fooled by our high school transcripts or unshaven faces and hairy armpits
We hold more gold within each and every one of our souls
than you could ever dream to sell or bend to fit the mold
our screams will dance in song and with every breath we take
we learn to forgive our past and how to learn from our mistakes
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
(♡˙︶˙♡)

Ryn (RhymeSmith)

Truly one of the most creative poets here, a master of the concrete. I'm blessed to call him a dear friend and honored to read his poetry. I'm not sure he really knows what he means to me.
Love you!

Creep That Loved You

Even at a young age, she captures emotions that I cannot. She brings a tear with a few simple thoughts. I can call her my friend and caring, she has truly taught.

WickedHope

I don't think I've met another woman with so much soul, you've taught me things that have helped me grow. I'm truly blessed that your poetry, I've come to know.

Kalypso

I've never met another with so much going on, but still stands strong. The weight you carry upon your shoulders and what life has brought on... Well, I can honestly say, I'm envious of your strength and I hope we can grow our bond.

Ember Evanescent

A sweetheart, through and through, I'm so truly proud of you. You write with such courage, depth and truth. You believe in the good, even without proof. I hope joy and love shine down upon you.

WolfSpirit Aka QuinFinn

I'm not even sure where to begin! I've had a poetic crush on you from the very beginning. You're hilarious, smart and such a good friend. You always show compassion, love and understanding.

(I don't think I can rhyme anymore...)

Weeping Willow

An amazing, heathbreakingly beautiful person and poet. You write with such passion and pain. Never Stop.

Amitav Radiance

I actually don't know you too well, but I always look forward to your writes, please continue on.

Joe Malgeri

A painful style you have, yet you always bring so many fascinating aspects of life to light. I always smile when I see something new from you.

Cat aka Catbird

You're soulful and talented, I love to read your words. Seems your emotions just spill onto the page. I can relate and completely agree with everything you say. Also love chatting with you.

KetomaRose

So relatable. I respect you dearly as a poet and person. You truly have a passion and talent for writing. Please, never stop bearing your soul for us all to read.

Joe Cole

Well, Sir, can you say nature writing at it's finest? You have wisdom, style and I love the challenges you present. I hope to read your work for many years to come.

The Emerald Outcast

You're different, I like that about you. You stand up for the outcasrs, unknowns and underdogs. I'd like to think I try to as well, but you're much better at it. Such a skill with ink as well.

SPT

You're an old soul, with so much to offer us writers here on HP. Heartbreak runs through us all, but I treasure it, along with every word you put to ink.

Pradip Chattopadhyay

I haven't really talked to you much, besides comments but I always look forward to what you have to say. You bring a new outlook on things.

Natasha ML

A friend if there ever was, I thank God for the time zones cause otherwise you may not be up all night helping me through my troubles, and I through yours. You're an unbelievable poet as well

Thomas A Robinson

You have such an amazing insight into the world and the soul, I always look forward to your comments and poems. You are truly talented.

r

I still remember you saying my comment "this may be weird, but seriously dude, I love you" was the best comment you ever got. It's true, you're astounding and your followers and poetry prove that tenfold. Keep it up.

The DedPoet

You are far from dead, you are alive in every word you write and you bring meaning to my life. The agony, despair and pain you express has literally brought me to tears on a few occasions. You certainly have a brilliant way of expressing yourself.

Rose
Oh, my sweet winter Rose, you're truly so beautiful and amazing in so many ways. As a friend, you've been there for me and as a poet you've helped me believe in the impossible.
Love you!

AFJ

Oh my, do you truly make me feel. I remember the first poem I read by you and the ending truly shocked me to tears, about her feet not touching the floor and every one since has completely enthralled me.

Vicki

Another wonderful soul I have not spoken with much, but you always seem to like my every post and I always love yours. You make me smile and feel deeply.

Elsa Angelica

My dear, dear friend, how I love your happiness and joy in writing plus the love you've always shown to so many of us here on HP. I love every single thing you post, although we don't necessarily agree on some things, you're always there for me. You're beautiful, never forget it!

Frank Ruland

I may be biased, it's true, but you are the best friend a girl could have and every thing you write truly speaks volumes to the level of intellect and understanding you have of a broken spirit and heart. The ones you write with the song lyrics, my, word, if those artists read them, they'd be astoundingly proud. You have more depth, deeper meaning and metaphorical concepts in your poetry than anyone else. I believe you are truly my favorite poet, like.. EVER. I'm completely envious of you as a writer, poet and person. You show strength, courage and resilience, more so than I ever could. I love you deeply.

To anyone I have missed:

You're beautiful and I've read so much of your work as well, but as you all know... I read A LOT on here. Please forgive my oversight.

NEVER STOP WRITING

(♡˙︶˙♡)
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
This took a lot of time and thought. I hope you all enjoy. Please check out all the authors I've mentioned works. Thx. :)
Olivia Daniels Jan 2019
She leaves a trail of broken heart
in her wake.
Like the River Styx, but
very much alive.

On the outside,
one would look at her and say
she's a faerie nymph
flighty, giddy and naive.

She treats boys like playthings-
they would say,
draw them to her and spit them out
her pixie pranks bereft of benevolence.

They are Theseus and Leucippus
heroes victimized by false love
they say,
the underdogs.
She is to blame.

On the inside, however,
it's a different story.
They fixate on her,
fall in love without consulting her first.

To them,
consent is an idea
and an abstract any-thing.
Something to be taken lightly or disregarded

You see,
consent is more than a verbal yes
and consent is more than ****** thing.

Consent is communicating your intent
before acting on it
and getting permission.

So it should be the same with falling in love.
No one owes anyone anything.
Best friend, dark loner type, new boy/girl in your life,
consider this before you vilify someone
for what they don't feel.
Bunhead17 Nov 2013
[Verse 1: MGK]
Every day I, wake up, to the same ****
In the same house, with the same bricks
In the same clothes, with the same kicks
I might as well be in jail
Caged in, stairin' at the wall waitin' for a change but
Dad telling me I gotta get a job
Couldn't pay the bills so the lights turned off
Them Cleveland boys got it hard
Oh my god, we been living like this too long
Just to lose it all in a week
My people too strong
Get it? Me and my boys be gone
Puffing on **** like this the lawn
Me and my boys tired of being here
That is why we gone
They say we wouldn't amount to nothing, huh?
Y’all thought we was bluffing, huh?
Fought every temptation ****, I guess I’m David Ruffin huh?
Nowadays, we don’t gotta do that dirt, tell my boys they good
And nowadays my little girl won’t have to work, moved her out the hood
Look man, I done been through it all, and I’ma ****** if I got this far
And if I let them strip me of this message let these haters take my heart
This for the ones that had it hard, the ones like me, the underdogs
This for the ones that waited for them clouds to fall, please god let it

[Hook]
You can't see my tears, in the rain
Underneath it all, we’re just the same, same, same
You can't see my tears, in the rain
All around the world it’s just the same, same, same
You can't see my tears, in the rain
So I let it rain

[Verse 2]
And they mad that I made it out the city
But if you look I'm still out in the city
Before everything I had clout in the city
Two other states and never bounced on the city
Shout out to everybody that’s proud in the city
Everybody cheering in the crowd from the city
Everyone that never had doubts in the city
Cause they know I represent what we about in the city
And I’m still laced up, tell the world that’s nothing changed
Till it’s hundred dollar bills in my pocket, then nothings change
If my team ain't with me, then I don’t wanna thang, tell them I'll go broke before I run out on my gang
EST over everything
100 thousand plus, cult fan base yea that is us, my songs tattooed on they body troubled youth, we bad as **** and what?
Nobody gave a **** about for broken mirrors
So I care less about appearance
Just as long as they can hear us
We’re fearless, we’re stupid, we’re dealers, we’re loser's
We’re killers, we're orphan's, we’re addicts, we’re stealers
We’re shooters so **** us
We are what they say we are until conformity hits us
Or those clouds come down and take them all with us, please god let it
lyrics to "See my tears" by Machine Gun Kelly (MGK)
#Lace Up #EST 4 LIFE
Bunhead17 Nov 2013
[Hook: Ester Dean]
Voices in the air
I hear them loud and clear
Telling me to listen
Whispers in my ear
Nothing can compare
I just wanna listen

[Verse 1: MGK]
As my, world turns
The heart beats
Not only in my chest
But the heart in these streets
So when they feel this, they feel me
But I can't feel nothin', outside these dre beats
I am from the city of evil, came from the bottom
Standing on top of what was supposed to be my coffin, whats up?
Inception shows me as a dead man walkin', but reflections shows this kid's still got it
Let it be known I got the throne like I don't know that there's a king
Never grew up around a family because I'm not a human being
And anyone under my level that’s coming at my spot for the top
Let them have it, cause when I leave, the whole world drops
Lace up Kells

[Hook]
I hear voices in the air
I hear em’ loud and clear
Telling me to listen
Whispers in my ear
Nothing can compare
I just want to listen
Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh
Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh I am

[Verse 2]
Waking up sweatin from the stress of being caged down
Everything I write is played out like what is this ?
Tear the whole page out
Man I come from holes in the wall but they don’t know the path
Even if I told them it all, they wouldn't know the half
So maybe I fill up my luggage with all of these dreams and put on my black coat and my black chucks and nothing in my jeans
And just run, till the day comes like Rocky’s movie scene
And I’m on top of the world, look up and scream like this is me, this is Kells
Crucified by the public without the nails
Do or die in my city but clearly I never failed
Lost myself in the game when I found myself in a cell
Then I found myself in the fame when I lost myself in the pills
And you cannot mess with me still , seen them boys and they winnin
Underdogs of the year Cleveland boys in the buildin'
What the **** is a ceiling I’m taking this to the top, and when I leave the whole world drops Lace Up Kells

[Hook]
I hear voices in the air
I hear em’ loud and clear
Telling me to listen
Whispers in my ear nothing can compare
I just want to listen
Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh
Telling me I am Invincible (3x) - oh oh I am…..
lyrics to  "invicible" by Machine Gun Kelly ft. Ester Dean
Cathyy Feb 2014
Have you ever noticed all the superheroes in your school?
That kid who's strong enough to lift things and throw them
at the other kid who's strong enough to actually take it.

Those popular girls, the cheerleaders
who always find the positive in everything
and have super cool elastic flexibility!

And those super cool independent chicks with their headphones in,
hoods up, shutting out the rest of the world.

Oh and of course those 'Clark Kent's who are so intellectual
leaving you puzzled and curious every time.
Those are the best kind of heroes because they're the underdogs.
You wouldn't think any of these guys would ever
be capable of being your Superman at Prom.
But you take away the glasses and then you'll really feel dumb.

There's all those cool superheroes hanging in the canteen,
spreading around like a bad cough in the playground
and then.. and then there's me.

Hi there.
I have the tendency to fade into the shadows of the ground,
My weakness is focal point.
The spotlight would burn against my sensitive skin like how
a sunrise would burn the skin of a vampire.
The attention of a million little lights
would be the cause of my own fire.

And if you look into my eyes..
If I let you,
You'll see my life flash right before yours,
you'll suddenly feel scared to know me..
but you'll care enough to try.

I guess you could call me Invisi-Girl!
'Cause I don't even wear a cloak,
nope,
I don't even need a cloak,
to be seen as the most invisible girl
in the world.
Dreams of Sepia Sep 2015
Love is this...
.......
............
,,,,,
catkin feet rotating the underdressed night under a casino wheel of stars
..........or else a Tempest of Soul loud as a fishmonger
...............99p cola bottles & lonesome underdogs
.............that time you laughed on helium
... '**** me' neon signs in the street
...................sweet onion breath delirium
.................Millais's Ophelia all wasted & peeling from suburban billboards.
......................the time Virginia Woolf drowned & all the birds
forgot how to sing in Greek.
..............are we there yet
..............are we feeling the beat, beat, beat
..............of this raindrop
.........................do we need postage stamps.
................................why is your neighbor called Pete.
.........why did you kick a dog, Mamma.
............nothing is that which is understood
............why are you staring at this poem.
I want to have a drink with the bulldogs because of their great premiership win
You see they never gave in against the swans and I guarantee that at the party they will get rolling drunk
And say to Sydney go and suckeggs
I know I go for Sydney but the bulldogs deserved that win oh yeah
I will love to have a drink the bulldogs because they deserved their win
I will love to have a drink with Vance joy as he opens up the party with some very good singing and everyone in the crowd are partying with him
All over the flaming MCG
You see the bulldogs are the champions of the year 2016
Now let's see how good they can defend their mighty premiership in the next year
I would live for a drink with the bulldogs and party with them oh yeah and I wanna say to them bulldogs fight and bulldogs roar let's do our very best to party all night on October 1 with the team of the mighty west
You see my late father really loved to see the underdogs win
And at the end of the night he would love to have a methane smoothie with them after the Saturday party is over
You see I would love to have a beer with the bulldogs
Because they are the underdogs
You see let's congratulate the team from the bulldog breed
The team from the mighty west
Get drunk buddy
river Apr 2018
Just because someone’s loves you
Doesn’t mean they believe in you

So go on little guy
Go get after it

Lets prove people wrong

But know yourself
Know your worth


Back’s to fences?
You best get going
Go on, Be bold brother!
Cocky, confident go **** it! You cocky ****
Go back to your circle of sinners

Don’t you dare try and take time from the talented ones life

...

It’s pretty easy to appoint
To not disappoint
When you’ve been dubbed such a loser

Well...
Here’s my stand ******* and **** this
  
I’m the man!
I make the magic!

I will prevail
I will no longer be pounded

Underdogs don’t always finish first
But we’ll **** well die doing it

So go on little guy
Lets go get em

Cause even with love little
Our hope is high
Cocky, confident and **** big chip on our shoulders
Bunhead17 Nov 2013
Yeah, it’s a long way home at the end of the road
I’ll be pavin my own way, to the top, I be here to stay
So take my name, remember this face, keep the change and have a nice day
And live for the moment, not by the past, homie live each day like it’s your last

All my life, I couldn’t fit in, like a bad shoe
I was always too square, too cube, too tall, too weird, too blue
Forget them high-school’s hotties now I’m too cool
I guess I came a long way from that young kid
The school’s most popular lame, no friends, no style, no clothes, no ends
Just a bed fell asleep, never woke up again
Yeah, and my last prayer was don’t ever let me end up like the people that’s down here
Cause the one that fear change be the one that don’t care
Look at themselves and see somebody else in the mirror
But you can always pick me out of the crowd
Loud mouth with my very own style
And what I know now is don’t ever pretend
And live every single day like you won’t see it again

So take my name, remember this face, keep the change and have a nice day
And live for the moment, not by the past, homie live each day like it’s your last

And if you only have 24 hours, 1400 minutes before your dreams go
Then you better go live it, cause whatever you love could be taken away
So live like it’s your dying day
I dedicate this to my teachers that never believed in me
And the mother that conceived, but ended up leaving me
I just wish you all can see me smile, this big’s grin on the tv now
And I took it from the bottom to the top
From the holes in my socks ramen noodles in the ***
Used to rob them on the block, now they stop me in the drop
******* up and that ain’t gonna stop
I used to take orders, now I make bets
I used to scrub floors, now I sign checks
I used to push carts, now I push songs
I used to be there, now I am so gone

I fired myself, found a job myself
Established my name and then I signed myself
And what I tell myself, is you did this by yourself
And when I'm on so long, I’ll be by myself

So take my name, remember this face, keep the change and have a nice day
And live for the moment, not by the past, homie live each day like it’s the last
And if you only have 24 hours, 1400 minutes before your dreams go
Then you better go live it, cause whatever you love could be taken away
So live like it’s your dying day

I wish I could see their faces when they heard your boy speak
Wish I could know what they’re thinking when they heard my first hit
Cause I remember them wishing that I wouldn’t get big
Now I bet they’re wishing they wouldn't of said that ****
I came out of a dying city brought back life
Everything they said I couldn’t do I did about twice
Multiplied by the bottles that we popped each night
That equals out to a celebration, ******* more ice
Make it toast to the underdogs, toast to the team
Toast to the fact, we this close to the dream
Pour one for my exes, used to talk reckless
But now I push Benzes and rock Rolexes
Came from the city and until they come and get me
Turn around and see the whole east side’s still with me
And that’s how we live it, you mans don’t change
Look, it's still the kid, still can’t tell me a ******* thing

So take my name, remember this face, keep the change and have a nice day
And live for the moment, not by the past, homie live each day like it’s the last
And if you only have 24 hours, 1400 minutes before your dreams go
Then you better go live it, cause whatever you love could be taken away
So live like it’s a dying day

Yeah, it’s a long way home at the end of the road
I’ll be pavin my own way, to the top, I be here to stay
So take my name, remember this face, keep the change and have a nice day
And live for the moment, not by the past, homie live each day like it’s your last
this song is beautiful to me... lyrics to "End of the road" by Machine Gun Kelly (MGK) ft. Mat Musto ...
#EST 4 LIFE #Lace Up
Kayla Bellinger Aug 2014
You
With the underdog smile
And the quirky attitude
I took a shining to you

You've been beaten
You've been bruised
And I took a shining to you
We were two underdogs
A team

But you
You can't reciprocate
You can't see past your affliction
You dig until the ground falls from beneath you
And I can't fill in the holes
Not fast enough

No matter what I do
It doesn't mean a thing to you
And you don't see the way it eats at me
You can't see that I'm defeated
Because you're far too busy
Digging your holes
Gotta have all eyes on you

Because everything is you
You want them all to know your name
You want to be their sun
And you beg
And you lie
And you cheat
Dig your holes
Bury your knives

You bury your knives in me
And I've had enough

I'm done
She wore a smile like a scented candle. It was warm and comforting but… too easy to extinguish. This other girl existed on one end of a knotted piece of string suspended between 2 tin cans… It was hard to reach her, and when you did, her tongue seemed as knotted as the string.

But on days where these two can’t seem to stop smiling. When their bow tie tongues make phone calls sound like miracles… we say things like..

Don’t jinx it.


When underdogs bark like poodles but bite like alpha wolves. when the up-and-coming upstarts undercut higher overseers. At the risk of burning too quickly or too brightly, we say…

Don’t jinx it.


When the meek and the naive achieve more than we perceive.

When we dream on Christmas eve of what we may receive.

When we say things like ‘We’ve been through worse… she won't leave’.

we say…

Don’t jinx it.



The human condition demands so much caution and fear, we shed tears and rub our eyes till all we can see is the least of what we can be and we… live like slaves to the thing that stole our confidence away… ourselves. Somewhere down the line or self belief was found K.I.A so when we try something new, we’re already D.O.A.

So when we play pika-boo with our power, appear like a shower of rain in a desert when you’d already chosen dehydration as your only way out, we dare to tell ourselves, don’t jinx it.



Ladies and gents, boys and girls, you don’t have to rule the world. You don’t have to cure a disease or discover new species or banish hatred from the hearts of man or travel the and experience sights and scenes that only in your wildest dreams did you think you’d see. You don’t have to do a single thing!

But you can do anything.

When Martin Luther King said Let freedom ring, he didn’t fear jinxing a single thing.

And when the Beatles sang love is all you need they weren’t deceived by the forethought that their song wouldn’t be well received. They believed that they could plant the seed that would lead  this musical scene into places unseen.

They believed that all you need is love. That they had the stuff to turn lyrics into legends. They wrote songs so deeply entrenched into our musical history... you’d need a yellow submarine to find them all and… they didn’t care about what they jinxed along the way.

They held their hearts like David held his sling when Goliath told him he was too small, and so should we all, we should stand taller than our legs can and every man or woman who said you can’t you, you shouldn’t will fall! Fall silent like when the voices in your head are all in agreement and are screaming yes!



Confidence is a bag of marbles with a hole in it. You’ve got to think back to where you’ve been to find it again. But whether you’re happy with your marbles, still looking for those you’ve lost or if you lost them entirely… we can share. We’ll stir sweet smiles into your coffee, stitch compliments into your clothes and we’ll garnish every plate and bowl with the untold hope that you’ll believe in yourself.

Like I believe you. Because I do believe in you… and I won't jinx it.
Kevin Feb 2017
i remember meeting you in the back of house, where your words were loose and wild. i was brining some guests plates in that needed to be cleaned after their meal. i got to talking with some coworker about some
******* coworkers talk about, probably complaining about some old lady who wanted truffle fries and only got regular fries. you had to chime in when there was a cadence with some ******* comment to display your manliness and status amongst your kitchen staff. that game always seemed counterproductive to me. you pinned me for someone i wasn't. i did the same to you. somehow along the way, between all your lewd remarks, we became friends. i believe it  began over our affinity for the Buffalo Bills. You said you liked them because they were the underdogs and you hated the Miami Dolphins. I told you they were my hometown team and you said "no ****. get the **** outa here. You're from Buffalo?" the way you said it lead me to assume you were from New York. You told me you were from upstate and missed it. I told you how much time my family spent up there in the summers, doing outdoorsy things. burning fires, drinking beer underage, walking barefoot through the forrest. we bonded. we learned a lot more about each other. you were divorced and knew that you could never love another woman as much as you loved your ex. she gave you two beautiful kids. she also took 3/4 of you paycheck and left you for broke. the rest you drank away with me when our shifts were over. you told me about your drug habits, and i told you about mine. i told you about my childhood and you said you were sorry. i helped you drive your kids to school when your ex wife was too busy. we got drunk and shot so much ****. there was a chip on your shoulder. there was a chip on mine too. i got to see you cry when i accused you of using again. i think you knew what i said was true. i came down on you hard because i had just lost two jobs, a girlfriend i thought would have my children, and someone that lived in your apartment complex crashed into my brand new car while i was waiting on you. we were on the way to get your kids from school. you knew i meant well but i could see the guilt in your eyes. i helped you with your kids a handful of times after that. we would get breakfast after and talk about work and women. after work we'd get ****** and eat at some small Mexican stand in 90 degree weather. i fell asleep at the wheel and totaled my car some time later. shortly after i left for tour and then you died. some secrets you take to the grave. thank you.
Anais Vionet Oct 2023
It’s Sunday afternoon and several of us, Leong, Sunny, Anna, Lisa and her new BF Dave (well, he isn’t ‘new,’ he’s 26) and I are watching an NFL football game. The Eagles vs the Jets.

There’s a platter of wings, fries, celery and dips on the low-white table for grazing and everyone’s multitasking while watching the game. Leong, Lisa and I on iPads, Anna, and Dave are on laptops and Sunny has a book.

I’m rooting for the Jets, although they’re the underdogs and given little chance. Dave’s for the Eagles, he believes they’re SuperBowl bound and he may be right.

After every good Jets play, like a first down, or defensive tackle or a score, I start snapping my finger - like the dancing Jet hoodlums in ‘West Side Story’ and sing:

“When you're a Jet,
you’re a Jet all your life
all your kids will be Jets
and even your wife.”

When I did it the first time, Dave chuckled. Lisa patted his arm, saying, “You’ll get used to it.” I’ve only done it twenty or thirty times since then and everyone’s ignoring me.

“I could be a songwriter, you know,” I said, “just give up this life of college drudgery and hang with T-Swift”. No one denied my obvious talent.

A huge Eagles lineman bust through the Jets o-line, throwing QB Zach Wilson to the turf, “Jeez,” Anna said.
“That guy’s not an Eagle,” I protested indignantly, “he’s a condor.” I was hoping for a flag but none were thrown.

“I want some steak”, I announced suddenly, to no one and everybody, switching subjects as quickly as a brain synapse fires.
“Do you know,” I reasoned extemporaneously, “that a diet of nothing but healthy prime-rib or ribeye steak can practically eliminate the chance of coming down with mad-lettuce-disease?”

“Mad-lettuce-disease?” Sunny asked, looking up from her book with a smirk.
“Middle America,” I began, Leong groaned and Lisa rolled her eyes at Dave, who smiled.
“That’s where all our vegetables come from,” I said, “the red states on the electoral maps,” I clarified even further.

“Well, how can we explain simple, decent, hard-working people falling in love with a lying, craven, reality-TV huckster like Trump?” I asked rhetorically,  looking around for an answer. When no answer was forthcoming, I supplied it:
“Mad-lettuce-disease!” I proclaimed, “Those people are eating the ‘vegetables’ they grow!” Giving the word ‘vegetables’ the same scorn I might lavish on ‘cigarettes’.

“If we all just stuck to a healthy, all-steak diet, ‘Mad-lettuce-disease’ would fade away and America would be saved.” I concluded, like a lawyer finishing a summation to a jury.
I expected applause, or at least a few “Amens” but there were only a few grunts and maybe a chuckle.

On the screen, the Jets defense broke through the Eagles o-line and quarterback Jalen Hurts, under pressure, threw an interception. I jumped to my feet yelling,“YES!” and begin snapping again:

“When you're a Jet
you’re a Jet all the way
from your first sorry breath
to your last dying day”

I love football, and the Jets won!
You cannot fight them with pride
You cannot go all out
You cannot  be ruthless
You cannot prove the point

They have nothing to prove
They have nothing to lose

Theirs is to be motivated
Theirs is to learn from the best
Theirs is great day
Learning from the best
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Tommy Johnson Jan 2016
Hello
This is my doing
I guess you want me to answer for it
I will if I feel like it

Some say we all have the same sense of aimlessness
And we're preyed on by the leech behind the curtain

But I think we've gotten passed that
That could be my inner mantra mixed with ***** talking though

Turning my back to the confusion only to find that meaning has already found me
I look at the leaders, they only can make educated guesses
And we'll all know if they did the right thing years from now

I've never put my name in the hat for consideration
But I know I'll still get called when my turn comes

They can touch me and I can't deny what I've said or done
But they'll never lay a hand on the ideals and truths that are in each of us
I'm beyond grateful for knowing this

I may become old
I may become ill
I may starve and die but my creations will go on for eternity
Moments of pleasure
Moments of purity

I won't name names or cast stones
I won't chase paper or fall to my knees for guaranteed safety
That's why I'm here, legs crossed and mind silent
Spirit centered and flowing free

My adoration for the underdogs and stray cats
My respect for honesty and curiosity for experimentation
Have taught me invaluable lessons

Just give me a shot, I know I can make a difference
I can see both sides of the fence
I can see between the lines of supply and demand
I can see the blinks between life and death

There aren't many of us but there are more than before
Hopeful
Pushing for unity and looking for our face, our voice
We have our suspicions
But more than that we have love
Sacrelicious Apr 2012
If you have ever felt 
like you're 
ready to just give up.
Cause the game
you're playing in
is full of cheaters.
Full of liars.
Full of false hopes.
&You; know you're never going to make it
out alone.
Welcome to the Love Cult.
We're underdogs too.
Walker Marema Jan 2016
As the endless and tireless yammerings of life surround me
My mind can curl up into a little ball
Even though I didn’t really need it to

Sometimes I think my mind has a mind of its own
It only asks for forgiveness
Never quite for permission

Sometimes my mind seems like it’s searching
Like an animal hunting its prey
Yet it always seems in the end

To be chasing its own tail
Like a careless curious dog
Just content to have something to do

Sometimes my mind likes to take a seat and watch the madness unfold
And place bets on the most likely winner for the day
I think it secretly likes to bet on the underdogs

I’d like to think that most of these things are broken and need fixing
But my mind knows better
My mind will think and do what I please
NeroameeAlucard Dec 2015
Shout out to the outcasts
Your individuality will outlast
Shout out to the mediocre ones
You have talent but you don't feel good enough
Stay with it love, develop your craft and grow into the best
Here's to the underdogs,
The ones who feel they don't belong,
And for so long have been hiding away and starting to decay,
Don't settle for the nutshell and say it's just as well,
Rise higher than the tree wild and free,
They don't know who you really are don't let them take it too far,
A collaborative effort with my amigo Oreos
alexis hill Oct 2014
I want to be the graduating
class
of we ******* made it

despite the trials and tribulations
I want to scream and throw up my cap
say that was well worth it

that those endless all nighters
the coffee *** on
my walk to class iPod on
blast songs

of inspiration
of that serious dedication
stacks of books and notes
post its and reminders

binders
spiral bound
college ruled

schooled on all
walks of life
on all types of wrong and right

all the mistakes I want to erase
and refunds for the W's and F's
what's left?
but to tell myself it's all ok.

black and blue bics
papers double spaced
**** it I want to be the best I can be

class of the underdogs
the freaks the ones who thought they'd never make it

the class of we *******
we made it.
Joseph S C Pope Jul 2013
In the morning, I awoke
                               to the smell of burning rubber--the bats in paradox
with their champagne necks broken,
                                                         ­            telling stories from atop
                                the blisters on the celestial skin.
A sublime masochism with irises that devour events, and ribs of sunshine,
and this was the gong of the eleventh hour somewhere after four a.m.
when the mockingbirds lie bodies in strange angles,
                                                         under tracks and atop cars.
Garage underdogs howl at the fog
after self-inflicted shotgun wounds lying in the corner
of the greats things lost and the worst things gained

                the bleach corrodes the bombarded sidewalk
that you almost hear smoldering, whimpering on the empathetic verge
                                                                ­                                   of the ocean
                  where mini-stars explode, civilization ribbons coat the throats
                                         of you pedestrians, humanitarians
        all dressed and gifted
                                         to the ****** of equivalence,'
            and I am tooth drunk
                         on the placebo slide, carnations washed beneath the broom
                                  clinging to morsels that ***** blue sky down on the trumpeters.
On the fall of the eleventh hour---Carpe Diem crushed by sweaty palms into ***** work
and screaming
dance parties.
How low?
He, they,
it, I, she
throw lives away like ships
slicing through the ocean, the same reckless, but disciplined authority.
Qis Mar 2018
no matter how much i've achieved,
you never think it as i'm successful,
I showed you all of my trophies,
people congratulationing me everywhere,
you ignored,
you hate,


You never liked whatever i did that i love,
I love the sky at midnight where its quiet,
you like the red sky with black smoke,
I tell you that it's okay to let people do what the love,

But for you,
It was a stop sign of getting in your way,
You destroyed what i love most,
including my heart.

what have you done?
i never did anything to you.

what have you done,
now im dispared inside.

what have you done,
you destroyed it.

now im wearing a collar,
that says im your slave,
welcome to the underdogs,
because i am the underdog.

But deep down inside,
I will always be renegades.

— The End —