"unpopularity" poems
there was never a clue
that I was awesome in any way
until it was mentioned to me
by just under two thousand different people
in all walks of life but mostly
waiters and waitresses
art gallery attendents
convenience store clerks
other short lived acquaintances
I have seen awesome sunrises and sunsets
and other skyview phenomenon
I have witnessed other awesome views of the scenic earth
I am not awesome in any way
I have never met any person who was awesome
please oh please stop using that word to describe anything short of God and His saints
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 3:19 PM UTC
Evil tries to slip by divineness,
Trying to intimidate virtuous standards.
Wickedness shows its cards first,
Attacking through deadly power.
Combating with no allegiance,
Because immorality stabs everyone.
As disloyal methods fight poorly,
Virtue comes to the battlefield.
Waging a war based on integrity,
Righteousness brawls through honesty.
Using dignified strategies to conquer enemies,
Never turning on a fellow soldier.
Virtue always prevails against vile ways,
As the unpopularity of sinfulness eventually falls.
Apr 8, 2017
Apr 8, 2017 at 7:49 AM UTC
Never Good Enough.
How did my life change from being a cool kid to being a social reject
Did I unknowingly commit social suicide
Was I unwillingly tried and thrown in the dungeon of unpopularity
Why did I never get a chance to take the stand and let them hear my testimony
I don't even know who 'they' are
Yet they have decided my trivial fate on the social wheel
They had to be close enough to me to figure out that I did not
Could not fit in
They had to know me enough to make me feel this lonely
I must have been friends with 'them'
Friends
I don't remember what this is
How this looks
Why this is needed
Or if I ever had this
I don't care about popularity, I don't care period.
What I want to know is how I got here.
To this point
Where when I breakdown, there's no one who sees that I am broken
Falling apart on silver blades
Stained red
Wielded with insecurities
Invited by my yearning flesh
Was I that much of an inconsequential person, that my existence
Or rather my absence went unnoticed
I always came to the conclusion that I'm not pretty enough
Or skinny enough
Or loud enough
And that's why 'they' don't me
Because I couldn't conform
To senseless conversation and shameless gossip
Anyway, all that doesn't matter anymore
Because I found out a while ago
Cool Kids Do Die
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 11:07 AM UTC
My childhood was a happy one mostly.
It was filled with childish games and toys and friends.
I was a happy kid. Mostly.
My parents yelled at each other a lot.
They'd scream at each other until their faces were bright red.
I was four or five the first time I tried to make them stop.
They picked me up and hugged me tight and set me in another room.
The fighting continued with me out of sight, but still in earshot.
I was in second grade when my parents got divorced.
I was so naïve to think my pieced-together family would hold.
I was innocent until then.
Then I had to grow up real fast.
I had issues at first; unpopularity at school, self-conscious of myself, and had acceptance issues.
I was fourteen when I lost it.
I spun downhill pretty fast after that.
When I was sixteen I had slept with eight different guys and a few girls.
My innocence was lost long before I could even pronounce the word.
My sweet innocence so far gone I can't even remember having it.
Mar 12, 2014
Mar 12, 2014 at 11:45 AM UTC
I almost celebrate the unpopularity
of my imaging sandpaper and saws
sounds
thy western accompaniment
of warmer inner purpose
progressions of chords
calming and coherent
when you listen to
the harmonies
like adding mustard and relish
to a hotdog
sniff around for
chords perfectly
a new layer or two
on a journey of my own
may you join in
my Magical Mystery Tour
where I add an f flat
to an f major
f flat becomes
f seven
upon your shoulders
and my powers and
depth are nothing but borrowed
true artists
are more
articulate
I am but lyrical
trying to re-introduce
a cadence
developing
a dream or two
however successfully
or not
it might be because
of a disconnection
a hallucinogenic
recollection
an old song
I listened to
while tripping
a long time ago
a radical idea
no
nothing but
borrowed
shadows
Sep 1, 2016
Sep 1, 2016 at 1:03 AM UTC
I was so scared to do it
So terrified in fact that I created a script
How’s that for pathetic?
You actually mostly stuck to the script
Which was nice
I stumbled on a few lines
Even though I was the only one who actually knew the script
And the one who wrote it
How’s that for sad?
I thought it seemed like it was going okay
I’ve seen you around
You don’t have a lot of friends with you most of the time
Any, actually
And for some reason
I have always found unpopularity attractive
How’s that for unusual?
Maybe because I never was popular
Or maybe because I hate the Populars for how they treated me
Or maybe because the Populars have their own little culture they’ve created among themselves
With values like drugs, alcohol, cigarettes
And beliefs that they are above everyone else
I’m just not into that
You aren’t outspoken
You don’t say too much
And I want to unlock you
You are so quiet
Like a secret I’d love to unravel
I’d take mysterious over excessively confident any day
But I don’t really get to pick and choose
I’m not the pretty type who has that option
Still, I took a chance
How’s that for stupid?
I decided to go and just do it
Because I figured you were worth the risk
You were musical
And athletic
Physically attractive (although, that isn’t my priority)
Nice eyes
Really, really nice eyes
And quiet
I really liked you and hoped maybe I could have a slight chance with you
How’s that for incredibly dumb and delusional?
So I thought it was turning out okay
And when I did it
When I finally gave it to you
You smiled at me
And said Alright
You know what
Why did you have to smile?
That was cruel
If you were planning on just leaving me hanging
For 95 hours and 58 minutes (yes I've kept count it is really pathetically sad)
If would have been less painful if you had rejected me up front
To my face
Refused to even accept my number
Told me you were not interested
It would have been better if you had even just said
…um okay…
Then I might not have gotten my hopes up
Like I promised myself I wouldn’t
And of course I couldn’t help myself as usual
I almost wish you had said something hurtful
Cruel
Told me I was worthless and ugly
And you didn’t want to be seen anywhere near me
Then it would have been easier
To make myself not like you
If I knew you were an unkind
It’s just that you are not
And I guess I just misinterpreted
The way you acted
I guess I mistook your actions
I really thought you would at least text me
Even just to be friends
Even just out of politeness
But you didn’t
And I blame myself
And the funny thing is
I don’t regret it
At all
I don’t regret taking that risk
Even though it didn’t work out
But I really wish it had worked out
I still find myself hoping
That maybe you lost my number
Maybe there is still hope
Maybe you could change your mind
How’s that for wishful thinking?
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 11:30 AM UTC