Best Isolated Poems
Damn this isle of mine...
solitary awkwardness surrounds
stifles, and strangles, and estranges
deranges, debases, encases, entraps
...singing this song lonely crazy
Damn this isle of mine...
coast eroding on every side
an intense sunshine serves to blind...
surrounded by sea, yet cruelly dry
squinting eyes and palate dies
Damn this isle of mine...
Mind gone aimless wander
condemned goner
seeing life that flashed reckless past
and gone...tone deaf swan song
beats on with insensitive rhythm
Damn this isle of mine...
Ever lacking human amenities
conflicting identities murky and sly
my own private Hyde sleuths like private eyes
questioning my reason with childish perspective
this madman my sole companion
this isle will kill me before I die
marginalized
again
just a widow
whose family is grown
no longer a central figure
overlooked
forgotten
until something
is expected from me
then parameters shift
I am needed, anticipated
counted on for help
until that window in time
passes
then
marginalized
once more
prioritized
off the grid
of life
~
is it any wonder
I gravitate
to the one who supports me
appreciates me
listens
with his heart
Whoever finds themselves alone,
To make their bed a slab of stone,
Goes there but for the grace of I
To contemplate the reason why.
Who knows the journey each have led?
The horrors which they may have fled.
Financial ruin is one such fate,
Or just hard luck, the loss is great!
And so, a life where pride is lost
To forage bins at any cost.
Where passersby will turn their heads
To go home to their comfy beds.
A placard scratched out more in hope
Disguises that they fail to cope
And thus, the empty cups reveal
The hopelessness they can’t conceal.
The cold and bitter winters night,
The cardboard box for which they’ll fight,
May stave off hypothermia
But do little for insomnia!
It’s miserable to say the least,
The fact that they will never feast
Or just to shower, enjoy a cuddle,
Instead a lowly fire they huddle.
Have we now become so cruel?
Whereby society will often drool
On celebrities who matter not,
Whilst these poor souls are thus forgot!
Sponsor: Nette Onclaud
Date Written: 06/01/2026
Title of poem answering: Where Without Whom
Isolation offers
Opportunities
Separation helps form questions
Needing answers
Search for the answers
Learn who you are
Remember where you've been
Then~~answers
Will flow
Into a poem
like a dying flame
looking down
from
a
fired coloured
sky
a visionary
in his earthly
life
mysterious
in every detail
tempetuous
and yet
subjective
a lonely genius
mused
by fierce
inspirations
tearing
imaginations asunder
visions
of paradise
in near
abstracted clouds
of colour
delicate
detailed
often sombre
the spirit
of a willing mind
writing
designing
engraving
printing
copper plates
on a rolling press
&
a poet
so sublime
none-the-less
I have lost all distinction between day and night
A constant absence of darkness is provided by fluorescent light
No windows available to the outside world
Living in isolation sans any modern day thrills
Four bare walls, no bars, food slipped through a slot in the door
Eating with my fingers because no telling what I would use utensils for
I still taste the blood from the ear I bit off of that inmate
I had to get out of general population no matter what it would take
Regardless of what the prosecution claims
Regardless of whom the newspaper’s headlines blame
Regardless of what the forensics might suggest
Regardless of what the jury thinks they know best
I did not kill my wife
I did not take away her life
The wound on my head that paralyzed my body
But allowed consciousness to remain and watch the act
Was not self-inflicted
As presented as fact
There is no demon inside me who carried out this deed
There is no psychosis brewing resulting in a murderous need
A monster, it is true, is required to make such a mess
But that monster was not me and I did not confess
I was covered in her blood because I held her in my lap
And gave her one last kiss good-bye
There was no emotion in my voice on the 911 call
Because with the lifeless body I held – all my emotions did die
Actually, I am better off now, in this isolated state
Where I am away from the public scrutiny and disdain
I have no reason to want to continue to live
I just know in the future someone else soon – will realize my pain
The monster is still out there
And he will strike again
The look in his eyes showed too much joy
But no one cares to believe in me
It is easier this way
Until his modus operandi once again is employed
the rain is pounding
on well-hidden mounds of dirt
I can imagine
the sounds of ghostly cries in
dark, isolated places
Gone today even further tomorrow.
As Desolate as the farthest star.
It can be as lonely as you want it to be—
or you can make it whatever you want it to be.
A year seems to be a very long time
if you keep thinking about it
Isolation can be very introspective
if you want to climb inside
A mind is a very powerful tool
if you let it wonder afar
Socialization is an embraceable thought
if you want to suffer it
In the evening I looked around
no one I could see with me
yet we climbed altitude together
a team of ten without team spirit
the strong cold wind enter my eyes
vampires and anacondas
move near. I hear their footsteps
I try to shout loud, loud
but my echoes answer me rudely
I place my hands on the chin
Is this mountain climbing a fuss?
Am I sacrificed for the wild?
my temple developed rings
but this was not the answer
a spark of light combed my eyes
this too was not reply
Complete serenity left me
and ghosts of intrigue whispered
“Honest trekked across the rivers
each one has reared a wolf as pet
in the parlor of life.”
Delicate orchid,
Dancing in the pale half light,
Graceful but alone.
**For the Flowers, Trees and Shrubs, I luv Contest**
If you are a bully, you're isolated and alone.
There may be kids around you, but the nice kids don't stay very long. No one really likes
a bully's nasty tone.
You would probably say you have plenty of friends at school and in the neighborhood, because
you're always talking on your cell phone.
As another kid, I'm here to tell you, if you're a bully, although you are not wise enough to
recognize it, you're really isolated and alone.
Those kids that do consider themselves your friends and hang out with you are mistakenly
exactly like you.
The whole disrespectful herd of you incompetent bullies is isolated and alone, too!
The sad thing is, when you need a helping hand, as someday you surely will, your so-called
friends now will be nowhere around. They will be long gone.
My parents have told me it is never any fun, as you grow older, to find yourself
isolated and alone.
Al Johnson
Isolated, in the corner you sit alone.
While others speak to a friend of their own.
You look longingly into the distance,
wishing someone would notice your existence.
Isolated, in the corner you sit alone.
Wait... you see someone coming your way.
Could today be the day,
the day you make a friend?
The one that will be there until the end?
Isolated, in the corner you sit alone.
No, that was anything but the truth.
The person was looking for a girl named Ruth.
As they walked away,
you look down and say,
"Why must I be so secluded?"
That's when you concluded,
people find you weird.
They feared your appearance,
but they fail to realize, your human too.
Isolated, in the corner you sit alone.
But what could you do?
Nothing but sit alone,
without a friend of your own.
As you look longingly into distance,
wishing, wanting, someone to notice your existence.
Isolated, in the corner you sit alone.
-Shaila Silva
My homeland, now, a manless desert;
My people had fled to the other side of the world
Where peace hummmed, and freedom hovered.
My candles, left in Vietnam to burn, now, extinguished;
Their crimson flames had turned into dusty, white tears.
My mournful soul, like a sorrowful serpent,
Wailed while yearning to return to the lonely nation
Where, once, a war began and, now, still endless.
I dreamed of holding the incense of love
In my heart and wept for a battlefield
That still bled bitter misery upon its soggy soil.
I longed to taste the succulent sun rise again.
Do you tell me to set my roots into air?
Say, when and where did the procession of trees
raise the slogan of storm and seize the blue of sky
by its palms, being isolated from soil?
Do you say it living? Say, this continual isolation
of a tree and soil-is it the name of living?
Think of that soil, o Love, on whose breast
there is no tree, no carpet of herbs, leaves and grass,
where no farmer comes ever taking his plough
to sing the songs of crops and no bird comes
to fill the arteries of wind with the songs of blood,
where only the dust and the sand round the year
mourn and scream soundless like a grave-
do you want to be such a soil, such a waste land?
O my Soil,
I will give you forests, a vast world of eternal green,
where animals roam, birds crowd and chirp;
I will give you clouds, rains and storms of peace
if you, loving me a little bit, devour all my roots.