We desperately need your help...we have no light in the dark.
We are to young for voice...sometimes all bite and no bark.
We get pushed aside...and usually forgotten.
We just need a chance...we're not all rotten.
We come from all over...we are too many to count.
Our Mommies didn't want us...our burden was too high an amount.
We all search for hope...in pieces and bits.
We have been left unwanted...a bunch of misfits.
Please reach out and help us...don't let them forget.
God brought you here to help us...his love we all get.
We've been split up and broken...separated by state.
We pray that somebody will want us...until then we just wait.
Like Yukon Cornelius...and Charlie in the box.
We make up this group of misfits...of whom nobody talks.
Please give us a voice...make sure that we're heard.
We pray that you hear us...go forth with our word.
Categories:
misfits, children,
Form: Rhyme
A bucketful of misfits
that is what we were
Traveling in pirate seas
Waiting for our chances
To stop hitting each other
We had swords and axes
And we were not afraid to use them
Some did not make it
The ones who did were the
most aggressive
By the time we arrived to
treasure island I was the only
one left. The truest bluest
misfit of all. Aargh!
Categories:
misfits, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Free verse
If there was a safe land
He would go straight away
Crossing with open hands
And there hoping to stay
He would go straight away
Leaving us far behind
And there hoping to stay
Free from faces unkind
Leaving us far behind
Never stooping to aid
Free from faces unkind
And a bond never made
Never stooping to aid
Subtle thoughts misconstrued
And a bond never made
Over cobwebs accrued
Subtle thoughts misconstrued
That he knew to be right
Over cobwebs accrued
In the darkest of night
That he knew to be right
As the sun trumps the rain
In the darkest of night
Midst the deepest of pain
As the sun trumps the rain
Its horizon is seen
Midst the deepest of pain
And his soul remains clean
Its horizon is seen
For his odd mind to chase
And his soul remains clean
From insanity’s place
For his odd mind to chase
He will find a safe land
From insanity’s place
Crossing with open hands
Categories:
misfits, mental illness,
Form: Pantoum
We remain grateful for being alive
We wear flowers on our crowns
And smile at the sun's warmth
We play with the sand and enjoy
How it falls from our hand
We worry about that which troubles us
We care for those who ignite fireworks in us
As if,
The fact that life is simply a lie
Is absent from our minds!
How can it be a truth when we have, over it,
Absolutely no control,
When it rules us, instead of letting us rule ourselves!
Pray, but if we walked around with gloom on our faces
And told the world and whoever would want to hear
That we are simply waiting for Life to end with her lie
Would that make of us misfits?
And would it be worth it?
Why, we have no choice, the lie has trapped us
It has bound us to it, as if it wanted to punish us!
Categories:
misfits, life,
Form: Free verse
The ergley-girgley men head south,
Inverting their insides to go out,
Never speaking, only winking
At the waddley ones who wash
Their clothes in bleach to kill the flies.
Oh, the rank of it.
The waddley ones are wide mouthed with awe.
Their teeth gleam;
Their tongues are rough like a cow's.
Hair is swept back, stringy and limp.
Their feet rattle when they walk.
They do not limp.
Their clothes are jump-suits, purple.
They are the waddley ones
Who never sleep, only torment.
They are ornery to a tee.
Tree limbs would not hang them high.
Cowboy shoot at their sombreros
But always miss.
A secret falls from their lips--
Unintended-- and is swept up carefully
And preserved in old newspaper
Like a tomato in the fall.
The newsprint is contaminated
By contact with such despair.
No good comes of it.
Categories:
misfits, humor, imagination,
Form: Free verse
A misfit in Liverpool
I think of oranges saw a painting by Constable of a morning sun
that looked like blood orange dripping nectar down on some
fishermen trying to catch eels on the dark surface in the bay.
There were sail-ships too ready to hoist sail in the morning wind.
When I lived in England I met several police constables, most
of them, nice blokes, alas, during the miner´s strike they became
radicalized, they had a good talking to by those higher up and
were also promised plenty of overtime.
John, the constable, - fifteen years on the beat and no promotion-
a friend of mine refused to partake in hitting miners over the head,
he continued his lonely beat but at the station he was ostracised,
a lonely figure in need of a friend- He often came into my cafe after
hours and we drank vodka with orange juice lamenting the time we
lived in. John got an early retirement and I sold my cafe.
Categories:
misfits, best friend, betrayal, judgement,
Form: Prose Poetry
Plucking my imaginary guitar from it's star studded, silver case..
Fingers swept this air; ripping notes atop his couch unto her table
Next thing I knew we were smashing windows, as kicking out doors
Bobby laughed when I tripped their wire then caught Jezabel's chord ?
Frantic thus became Daemon's crowd while we hit the high side in delphi.
Categories:
misfits, baby,
Form: I do not know?
Intoxicating sweat of misfits
Consuming your glowing banners
Robbing free information from the mansions
Settled silently in a tight space
Peddling sympathy, logic, and fate
I'm a poor boy with a dull toy
Don't penalize me for your mistakes
Dont enslave me with syrup dripping pancakes
In the heart of trivial bull*****mounds
The purest hounds will release their chains
Echoing dreams from raw sound chambers
With my megaphone blatantly displayed
Ill funnel the furry
Of this generations dead mercenaries
Those corporate baffled cocktail parties
What else to steal the banquet
Gossip peddlers employing
Data mining technicians
All the drama of man versus woman
Ensemble- nature has a date
With destiny
Categories:
misfits, adventure, art, me,
Form: Free verse
we were two misfits fitting in with each other in a painting
with watercolors. we bled red onto the canvas,
blue tears leaking from our eyes
we laughingly painted the sky; indigo with our hearts
smiling through the black pain
he demonstrated lyrical reign
and in return, i chose to refrain from fearing him
and his mahogany exterior
so together, we stood, leaving the bench
with cracked paint exposing the wood
he showed me his 'hood
as we walked on aged asphalt
i tripped and he claimed it was his fault
but the love-trip truly began when he sat by my side
whispering yellow sunshiny words into the canals
of my ear,
he possessed a knack for lies i had to decipher like Egyptian hieroglyphics
misguided by this misfit, i chose to walk away from
his soft hugs and if you were to ask me where he’s now,
i’d shrug
pretending he left my memory
but in my museum hangs the painting we painted together
as two misfits..
fitting in with each other.
Categories:
misfits, black african american, loss,
Form: Free verse
A flash of lightning on
Marilyn Monroe's back
lights up the desert sky
on the set,
as
Clark Gable
shifts his weary weight
on an impatient
mustang.
This will be his last showdown
Here are the ghosts
of beauty and
pain,
almost gone.......
Twined together
for our greedy consumption,
We reap their Golden Years,
thirsting
for that lost oasis
that once was....
Cinema.
Categories:
misfits, adventure, people,
Form: Blank verse