1. Poems for the
Unhappy and the
Social Heretics
By: Jessie Briones
(Cover Art by Esao Andrews)
2. Dedication
The poems that I have compiled to form this collection
are all dedicated to the people who wonder, the people
who contemplate, the people who want more, and the
people that go against the social norm and the social
law of conformity. These poems are an anthem for
those who need to face their problems and find the
strength to grow and prosper. This world is filled with
mysterious puzzles and confusing situations; and the
people of intellect only strive for one thing- answers.
I’ve always wondered if there were more people out
there like me; people only striving to seek out the best
things in life, to obtain the most happiness and bliss this
short life has to offer. These poems are the poems that
have truly touched me. They have left an impact on my
life and the way I view things as an individual. My own
personal writings that I have included here were the
writings I thought could best express the way I wanted
to make you think, and make you see the true art in life
and in everything it has to offer. This world is a cold and
sad place, and I hope to God that one day we can fill
this place with pure bliss and zeal. The world would be a
better place if we wouldn’t get stuck in a place where
we are content. We can do so much better.
Jessie Briones
3. Wondering
By: Miranda
Sometimes people go through life wondering what they're here
for
or who we are supposed to spend our lives with
or even what we will do when we get older.
I know I ask myself those questions all the time
but why spend life wondering, or asking questions?
Life is too short to live wondering why or what.
You need to live your life,
love with your whole heart and don’t hold back,
and laugh until you cry and it hurts to laugh anymore.
Life is here one day and gone the next.
So live like it is your last day to live,
and love like you’ve never been hurt.
People live their day to day lives wondering, but never seeking the
answers. Why am I here? Why am I staying here? Why am I not doing
something with my life? Why am I not doing better?
Miranda wrote this poem very well, in a rugged free-verse
fashion. Some people may argue, saying that free-verse style is a
cheap excuse for poetry, but at times, a poem needs the freedom.
Boundaries can choke off creativity, and I have a feeling that if the
writer would have stuck to the confines of a rhyme scheme or a
syllable limit, it would have taken so much away from the poem. The
writer talks about the people in this world who live their mundane
lives, having questions but never seeking the answers. This haunts the
“character” of the poem, yet there is always a simple solution. Live
your life without worrying, and be content with the bliss that life has
to offer. This was somewhat of a poor choice of a poem, because
there are very few metaphors and sources of imagery in the text.
“Live like it’s your last day to live, and love like you’ve never been
hurt”. Too many people need to hear those words. Living in your
sadness isn’t any way to live. Be happy and be proud.
4. False Hope
By: WishingWell
And, once again, I hear from him
My heart does cartwheels--it's a sin
Once again, my hopes are high
Then silence comes; I want to die.
My life revolves around false hope
His contact makes me think I cope
But when I do not hear from him
I go under the covers, where light is dim.
All others groan--hope it's a phase
I walk through daytime in a daze
When nighttime comes I'm wide awake
And think of him--for goodness sake.
I know one day this will diminish
My thoughts of him will come to a finish
But I know hearts have no common sense
And, my mind holds on now to that defense.
This poem is a perfect example of how sometimes it can work to
write within the confines of a rhyme scheme and beat. The poem is written in
an AABB rhyme scheme, which is slightly unconventional when it comes to
poetry. The writer talks about being hung up on a past relationship, and hoping
that maybe things will get better. In reality, she knows they won’t, and she feels
stronger and wiser because of the experience, even though she still wishes
deep down those things could still work and be resolved.
This poem also uses very few noticeable metaphors, but the one that
stuck out to me the most was, “I know hearts have no common sense”. Hearts
may not have common sense, but if something makes you happy, nothing
should stop you from pursuing it. People like to cling onto their hang-ups as a
reason not to be happy, but why should they? Just as many people say, life is
short, so just live it. There is no reason to dwell on sadness and past hurt when
we know that there’s so much more to find out there. Nobody wants to look
back on their lives and say “Wow, I could have been so much happier”. Live life,
and take it as it comes.
5. Power of Fear
By: Star711
I sat alone another day.
The world was moving all around me,
but it seemed as if my life was in a standstill.
The doctors say its anxiety.
Everyone thinks anxiety means nervousness or fear,
but it is deeper than that.
Anxiety holds you prisoner.
You can't leave your house.
Ding, Dong, Ding, Dong.
The doorbell rings but I can't answer.
There is too much fear inside.
You can't answer the phone.
Ring, Ring, Ring.
"Telephone for you!" my family yells. I
tell them to say that I will call back, but I won't.
You can't eat.
Chomp, Bite, Chew.
No, not me. The anxiety
even controls that. All the pain rushes back up with
every little thing I eat.
You can't go out.
Step, Step, Step.
Everyone walking around me, but I can't move, the
apprehension paralyzes me.
Everyone says, "Be brave. You can do it. You'll make it out of this."
But sometimes I wonder if I will.
I try to combat it all, but if I attempt to do anything,
it all starts over again.
Thump, Thump, Thump.
My heart beats faster and faster.
I can feel it in my chest.
Beads of sweat
Racing, Falling.
Running down my forehead.
All the thoughts swarm in my brain.
The fear picks up.
It is unbearable.
I'm so frightened, but I don't know what of.
The paranoia sweeps over my body like a giant wave.
Every day I have to fight what seems to be a losing battle.
But then . . . I look outside.
I see the colors.
I see the life.
I see spirit.
I know I can do this.
Hope, Pray, Win.
6. This poem is probably one of the saddest things I’ve ever read. Not because it’s
written to be sad, but because I know that it’s a hardship that so many people
have to deal with every day, and I’ll never be able to know how that feels.
Sometimes, I know people like to be alone, but I could never put myself into a
position like the writer of the poem is. Being afraid of contact with other people
in any way is a situation I could never be able to put myself into.
The writer uses some of the things I hate about poetry the most. I’ve always been
extremely irritated by poetry that uses onomatopoeia and cacophony. Yet, he
seemed to make it work, and I know without a doubt that without it, the poem
wouldn’t have carried its message the way he wanted it to. This poem is also
written in free verse style, and there are very few noticeable metaphors in it. The
poetry I enjoy either has a lot of metaphors or none at all.
The writer tells about his daily life and his own personal struggles. He was
diagnosed with social anxiety disorder, and he tells of his experiences with all of
the normal, every-day things we do. He is constantly haunted with this fear, and I
can only imagine how terrible it has to feel. The overall tone of the poem seems
tense and anxious, just as the writer probably felt as he was writing it.
The tone is probably the most powerful part of this poem, simply because it puts
the reader into the writer’s position as he suffers from his anxiety disorder.
Overall, the poem explains how challenges are just another thing in your way of
happiness. Work as hard as you can and you’ll be able to get over what’s holding
you back. Happiness is just around the bend.
7. Let It Fall
By: Michael G.
One more anti-hero worship
from the depths
of some enigmatic fool
that left the suburbs
for the open fields
of post modern flight from hell.
No, not from the quakes
or the rumblings of racism,
that stench we all tend
to want to get rid of,
but the fact that there
were just too many things wrong.
So off I went to the last
journey of my youth,
through the pubs and alleys
of Los Angeles that served
many nights of reckless talk
and the establishment be damned.
There goes Happy House, Scream
and all those open up at 10 pm
party houses, where you paid 5 bucks
to drink yourself to life,
and walk out Saturday morning at 6 am
like the kind demons we were.
And dance the pain that we had
kept for the week
and wonder what 30 would be like
and if the Virgin Prunes
were right about
"If I die I die".
But then, that love in your soul
the one that makes you write
and pour out those false indignities
that caress your heart and mind
for after all we've been through
stars have their moments and then they die.
8. To me, this writing ultimately tells the story of the life of an anti-establishment kind of
person. The writer was a punk kid, a so-called Suburban Anti-Christ, who left the
suburbs to rid himself of the horrid morals, indignity, and attitudes of the people that
were surrounding him. This punk kid, so to speak, talks about the way people live their
pointless lives in his world, denouncing the establishment and partying. Yet, what they
don’t realize is that everybody, whether they like it or not, needs the establishment. He
explains later in the poem that “the love in your soul, the one that makes you write and
pour out those false indignities, that caress your heart and mind, for all we’ve been
through, stars have their moments and then they die”. To me, this represents that these
people are still slaves to the establishment that they denounce. As much as these people
want to hate what they don’t want to represent, they need the establishment, or else
their art would not exist. They need the establishment to give them something to hate.
They need the establishment to give them something to write about. They need the
establishment to be in their own personal state of contentment.
This poem is an example of the poems that I like that are full of different metaphors.
These punk kids escape what they hate to drown themselves in alcohol, drugs, and
partying, just to find out that it’s all for nothing. What they do to destroy the thing they
hate, in the end, empowers it. The “moral”, so to speak, of this poem, is that running
from the thing you hate the most and selling yourself short to bring down what you’re
so passionately against can and will hurt you in the end. It’s all a worthless cycle that has
no real purpose other than to give you a reason to hate and a reason to express yourself,
when you can do it outside of the cycle. Don’t drag yourself down, and just be happy.
9. Unhappiness
By: Sri Chinmoy
A life of unhappiness
Is a contagious disease.
The world is already full of misery.
Allow not your unhappiness
To increase the world's misery.
You want to end your unhappiness.
I tell you, there is one way
To end your unhappiness,
And that is to end your constant feeling
Of unpleasant unworthiness.
Do not allow unhappiness
To capture your heart.
Do you not know that unhappiness
Is the heart-cancer?
Today's unhappiness
Must not be kept for removal
Until tomorrow.
Tomorrow will be another day
For me to either suffer new unhappiness
Or enjoy a flood of delight.
Today's game I must play today
Wisely and perfectly.
The author feels compelled to tell people that unhappiness is a pointless thing, in this poem.
The poem is one again, written in free verse. It seems that some of the most expressive and
deep poems are written without any creative boundaries. The author is writing with a dated
style of language, which suggests that this poem is slightly older. Yet at the same time, the
dated style helps the poem get the message across a lot better. If the writer were to have used
a modern tongue, the poem would seem fairly bland and repetitive.
The poet uses very few metaphors in this poem, but the one he does use is very deep. “Do
you not know that unhappiness is the heart-cancer?” A constant state of unhappiness will
ultimately be the death of you. It eats away at your soul until you can’t feel anything but
sadness. The author compels you to defeat yourself and let go of the constant feeling of
unworthiness and unhappiness, and to find the pleasure in each day.
11. Ink
My body is a cage,
My house is a void,
Keeping me in my nightmares.
My love is all but dead,
My life is rotting away,
My soul is broken and tired.
I lay here, taking the hurt
Does it feel better? Does it feel good?
Yes...maybe it does.
I should want better...
I should want more, for myself
For my family, for my heart.
When I wrote this poem, I knew it would be perfect for this
project. This poem is just a way for me to let anybody that’s
reading this know that I’ve been exactly where you are. I
know exactly how it feels to be at an ultimate low, where
you couldn’t give a care in the world about whatever
happens to you. The only thing that kept me going through
all of the tough times was knowing that through all the
struggles and all of the bad times, there’s always something
good that comes out of it. I hold very few grudges, and
everything I’ve been through has made me a stronger,
smarter, and wiser person. No matter what happens, you’ll
always learn new ways to improve yourself.
12. An Ultimatum From the God of Jealousy
My cityscape of stone,
My creation, my abode,
Defiled by my children.
The supreme disgrace.
What did I do to deserve this?
I saved you from the snakes.
I saved you from my son.
Yet, you spit on me.
Come, kick the dust in my
face.
Maybe I'll enjoy it.
Maybe you'll regret it.
Drive me into darkness.
Drag me down with you.
Come, amplify the pain.
Make it resonate, make it
bleed.
You know I deserve it,
I gave you everything.
Your structures grow taller,
I disappear into nothing.
Yet, I gave you everything.
I guess I'm meaningless.
Go, leave me here.
You'll see me again soon.
When you've run out of hate,
I'll remain here, waiting.
13. The concept of the social heretic has
been deeply rooted into our culture
since time began. In hunter-gatherer
societies, the ones that were strange
or not of a familiar tribe tribe were
slaughtered, the resources were
raped from the land, and they moved
along. People have been slaughtered
and labeled heretics for coming up
with logical, fact-based developments
for the good of man. It’s been
somewhat brushed off by humanity,
but the fact are there and it makes
the world look like a disgusting, evil
place. This poem looks at the concept
of the social heretic from the
opposing side, from the creator of the
people. He is being torn apart by the
fact that there are people that are
staying away from what he wants, but
what exactly is wrong with it? We
were given this wonderful gift of
choice, and we have the right to do
whatever we please if we’re not
hurting anybody and we’re the ones
that are happy. Society will always
view these people as threatening, but
they are the people that will
ultimately bring the rest of the slaves
to society to a true salvation.
14. Dreamscape: My Demons
This house, it's cancer
The memories it's holding
Tear away at me
Not a single man
-or woman knows of my thoughts
Alone, I dwell in them
This house smells of death
This reminder haunts my dreams
Never accepted
I see you outside
"What do you want?", I ask you
"Bring me everything"
I couldn't say no
So, I gathered everything
You still weren't pleased
My face hits concrete
I hear the chaos ensue
Silenced by a shot
She was on the bed
You got in your truck and left
Left me an orphan
Apprehended? No,
You lurk my home, you stole it
I'm here to take what's mine.
15. This poem came to me in a dream. The dream was more or less a
story about this group of children running from a cannibal
murderer who had killed their mother. They had abandoned their
father, and left on this epic journey to escape this evil man who
was possessed by the need to slaughter these children. The story
may be morbid, but the moral is hidden deep in the story. These
children spent the majority of their existence escaping this evil,
and it took them so long to be successful. But when they finally
were victorious, it was made so much sweeter knowing that they
had finally accomplished what they had dedicated their whole
lives to. Problems come and go, but the ones that stick around
are the ones you have to fight ten times harder. It feels so much
better to defeat a problem you’ve had for a long time than to get
over one in an instant.
16. I Am Heretic, I Am Evil
You’re under a veil
Perceptions of love are skewed
I am your prophet
You ask of evil?
Here I am for you to see
Don’t take this lightly
Bring you to the pit
My existence is worthless
Learn from me, dear child
I will be your meager blanket
I will protect you from harm
Though my edges are becoming torn,
I’ll wear my battle scars with charm
Nail me up and tear me down
Hold me, throw me on the ground
Make sure I choke on the soil
My coughing barely makes a sound
I’ll be okay, not that you care
My edges are barely even there
I’ll be content if something finally comes
And grants my wish: One final tear.
We’re a lost cause, living in ignorance
We’re a dying race, masked with lies
We’re unimportant, preserve nothing
We’re choking off the “heresy”.
Scared to accept the truth
Forming societies around kings
Watching them burn to the ground
Yet, still trusting our dreams.
What a sad world we’ve become
Decaying in upon ourselves
We’re a person in the mirror
Watching ourselves rot.
17. The social heretic is the person that will
ultimately show the world that there is
something more than just the standard
social norm. Although people are made
out to be terrible just because of their
beliefs and mindsets, I am incredibly
proud of these people. We need some
more freaks in the world. We need to
give something to feed the masses’
addiction to hatred, and we need
something to make us strive to be
better. The people that make us out to
be terrible are our example. They are at
their ultimate low, making people feel
like trash to keep themselves happy.
People need something to make them
feel superior, and people need
something to make them feel like they
have some sort of power. In reality, it’s
all worthless, and in the same way that
they were put on this earth to teach us
what not to be, we were put on this
earth to show them exactly what
they’re missing out on; happiness. The
conformists are the people that will
never be truly happy until they realize
that we’ve found the key to
enlightenment; do what you want if it
makes you happy, have respect, and let
other people live their lives.
18. The Tomb of My Psyche
Understandable sorrow
I know you think it’s me
So keep your intentions
... And throw them to sea
I know what you’re thinking
But it can’t be me
So keep me locked away
For no one to see
I know what you want
But you can’t get it from me
And drown me with everyone’s tears
I know the pain that I’ve caused
I can still feel your fear
People in this world are kept as slaves of one thing- fear. The
fear of being unworthy, the fear of being weak, or angry, or
sad. The fear of feeling at all. And in order to keep
themselves in their pitiful state of contentment, they have to
bring other people down. The opiate of the masses is a
worldwide inferiority complex that’s engrained into our
genetics. The only real way to escape it is to let it go, which is
easier said than done. Instead of hiding behind it and relying
on it for yourself, be a bigger person. Become the Overman
and better yourself, so that maybe you can leave an impact
on the rest of our blinded world. The more people that can
defeat themselves, the more people will convert themselves
into the Overman, and a happier place our Earth will be.
