Best Ostracised Poems
Alone he sat on the cold soft sand
Gazing at the ocean
Reflecting on his life
Overcome with emotion
His dad left when he was young
Never to return
His mother checked out slowly
It was the bottle she did yearn
There were no meals on the table
No heating or warm clothes in a drawer
Mums asleep on the couch again
Empty bottles on the floor
His mother gradually wasted away
Her eyes became yellow and blank
She no longer knew her son
From all the poison she drank
She died a horrible death
At fourteen he was all alone
No-one to turn to
Nowhere to call home
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Years passed by ….now a man
Sitting on the beach
Tears rolled down his face
As for his bottle he did reach
His life had been a struggle
As long as he could recall
Never having being nurtured
Or ever knowing love at all
He tried to do it right
Be a good and decent man
The demons inside his head
Silenced only by the bottle or can
He led a solitude life
Had nothing to call his own
Felt helpless and lost
Ostracised and alone
As he sat on the beach
Looking up at the stars
He was angry and sobbed heavily
Triggered by demons and scars
The hurt he suffered was intolerable
He placed his hand over his heart
Fell backwards in the sand
Only then did hand and bottle part!
~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He looks at her sweet young face
He’s filled with loving pride
As she listens to the story
Snuggling closer into his side
He watches his wife potter in the kitchen
Glowing as again with child
She glances over at him
Giving a loving smile
He feels complete fulfilment
He now knows what it’s like to be loved
To have family and be whole
Present …..No longer drugged!
It’s been nearly eight years since he touched the bottle
Turned his life around
Finally breaking that cycle
So future generations
Can walk on sober ground!
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Categories:
ostracised, addiction, change, sad,
Form:
Rhyme
I am sorry to the ones
Who never had a chance
No love nor opportunities
Due to circumstance
I am sorry to the unheard
The unseen, the forsaken
The forgotten, the disregarded
The ones from which life has only taken
I am sorry to the neglected
The mistreated, the ostracised
The abandoned, the rejected
Where love and nurture were never prioritised
I am sorry to the lost and lonely
The ones in turmoil and pain
The sufferers, the fearful
The ones with who sorrow reigns
I am sorry for all the bleakness and helplessness
The unfairness, hurt, cruelty that many endure and face
“It is never right nor fair”
Life can be an unkind and unjust place
From my heart …..I am truly sorry!
Categories:
ostracised, humanity, life, sorry,
Form:
Rhyme
Plagued by incandescent ferments I grapple zealously,
with tower blocks of titan topsoil myriads,
and melange of eccentric foibles,
considered by some to be a minus,
but without this composite what is my real nature?
reflection on a manifest mettlesome being,
leaden skewed traffic jam’s tailback of relative prospect,
normalcy a supernatural synonym,
apperception fringed by lambent twinkling,
that tantalising twirl of clustered countless spirits,
quirk-some inklings seem a weakness,
whilst chasing galaxy of plus point,
self-ostracised by atypical apparently conflicting plethora,
grave as in shadow id, tombstone stark exit but salutary motto,
etched eerily by one staunch depiction,
on catalytic other form of self,
unresolved human traits in multiples,
indicative of lack, lack of bearing?
me that nutrient rich plot that has,
this wondrous green blade potential compass,
me as sumptuous summer gust freshener,
of inner coastal home philosopher’s dwelling,
me an endless random version,
of charcoal midnight gleeful ghost,
blithely skimming chimney tops on deep quest,
yet nascent dawn usher lurks within,
augurs well for that sound ultimate coexistence,
despite an underbelly of niggling doubt
Hopefully I’m kind
at heart but rare traits might just
scupper thoughtful aim
Categories:
ostracised, character, deep, endurance, fate,
Form:
Haibun
Cloven hoofed I am striding across sanctuaries lands
Not what was expected in their sanctimonious plans
Have I ever existed or am I a figment of their imagination
Or am I simply more perfect which angers their frustration
Me, I'm cloven hoofed and one thrown against their black
Is it I whom lacks belief or am I an excuse for their lack
But it's always me that's ostracised, or do I actually exist
Do you really know who I am to continually persist
Good or bad, black or white, like left and right we're twinned
Hey, let's open our eyes and smell the air, who has really sinned
Categories:
ostracised, angst, corruption, dark, destiny,
Form:
Couplet
The Outsider
Ever ostracised from the truth
Lest they are known to well
By deceitfulness
The paranoia play of a black sheepskin coat
Is riddled with the placatory smiles
Of half spoken lairs
Nothing more supports the world
They come to deny
It is far beyond the responsibility
Of those who plead for honesty
Are loved
With hypocrisy
The wolf wanders back and forth
Paranoia play in a black sheepskin coat
Isolated eyes living on the edge
Uninvited
They trample amidst the cage bars
And toss zoo scraps
To an exhibit
A dieing breed of how not to be
Counted for a wolf instead of a sheep
An example
So they can breath in safety
Singular, prison, box, label; placed within
The confines ridicule so easily
For a debauchery of self satisfying
Inadequacy
Keeps them in their comfort zone
The wolf crosses back and forth
Paranoia play on the same old path
Uninvited eyes living on the edge
Isolated
And every confession to care
Will throw a bone
Something for the lame old dog to chew upon
Ever ostracised from the truth
Lest they are known to well
By the arts of their deceitfulness
Categories:
ostracised, lifeold, old,
Form:
Free verse
Tanka
Folk Heads Down in Flocks
waders stoop heads down
feeding uncoupled in flock.
like texters bowing
heads down to worship screen folk
disengaged with here and now
Heads Down, Engaged to Screen, Remote
Like waders at dawn sifting mud
with heads-down stance,
Modern folk in flocks with heads down, peer at screens
With thumbs a-tapping, eyes engaged
with friends on screen remote
But what of the here and now?
Those poor folk you are with, are ostracised,
displaced by 'You've got mail',
subplanted by there and then.
It is worrying how screen worship
has become such a priority.
It is infectuous when others all around you do it.
Interuptions to conversations now an accepted interlude,
not seen to be rude, when message calls
with bongs and rings,
demand heads-down bowing stoop
to worship screens.
Categories:
ostracised, internet, social,
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:
ostracised, best friend, betrayal, judgement,
Form:
Prose Poetry
Brother Gaus
Gaus is a Rainbow man
Only that he’s not curved.
He’s just a miscellany
That makes him striking.
Gaus has a funny knack
Of repairing any gadget
Can do so with anything
Except repairing himself.
He can service the lot
Except his own wife.
With identity so fluid
He lives by convenience;
He’s black to a black man
White to a white person.
He’s a fast talker, Gaus,
Using a funny diction....
Take it with a pinch of salt;
He lives by expediency
He’s curved as his colour!
A mixture of colours-
A chameleon in the bush,
He takes colour of bush
In which he deeply hides
And never the lash bush
The colour of his hide!
He’s always out of colour
Unless abound colour nearby
This makes him fluid,
Expeditious and impulsive.
Gaus believes in a god;
A god not too black
Nor a god who is white
But god who is coloured!
At least his is not racist
Though not coloured God
Or one of expedience
Or God who is fluid
Or one who repairs all
Except mending Himself,
Or who is a fast talker
Getting followers nowhere
Good to regard or take
With a pinch of salt...
But then Brother Gaus is!
Talks of the war time
Fighting on the wrong side...
It gave him sense of sate
Choosing who paid most.
Maybe his side was right.
He was on the cross roads;
Colour crisis that mislead
Both and was hated by both!
He was also ostracised
But hung onto the diction.
His wife is sable black
Memories of ancestors;
All are as white as snow.
He is left-handed and fast
When kindled a slugfest
He embodied barbarism
Of one side and tactic
From the other camp.
He demands white’s meal...
When he fails at school
“Native ancestors are ok!”
Lazy: Whites are thinkers,
“I need no manual work...”
Greed: “I need much meat,
“Ancestors were hunters!”
That’s why a tortoise
Has a shell that is cracked;
The tactic of retracting
After attracting hatred
Draws a lot of resentment.
Both cannot trust Gaus!
He’s like a mouse and bird
Both merged together
To create a power mule
Of a funny countenance.
Would he run with Hare
And hunt with Hound...?
Gaus will run with both
And be chased by both..
And, none will be pleased!
JM
03rd Nov’ 2013
Categories:
ostracised,
Form:
Free verse
My head beats incessantly of troubled past war
My land was full of blood covering each door
I remember the past when democracy was proclaimed
When leaders of my land assured peace would be named
They assured us how everyone would be equal
Why did they lie and go back to the way so vile
I am an African even though I am not black
When our country was in shambles I had your back
But now that we pledge democracy you deprive me my due
Now when I come to you for aid you say I'm not your hue!
Why when we were fighting for freedom I was on your right
For five generations South Africa my home has been my sight
Alas my heart lays heavy and unproud
I bow my head in shame and frown
Why do we have to go through this time again
Proclaim me once again my friend!
This poem was written because here in South Africa affirmative action is the new
apartheid. I am Asian because of my hue, yet in South Africa I have lived. Is it right
that I am ostracised because I am not Black? When our country was at war with
apartheid, my grandparents fought side by side with Africans. Was not Mahatma
Gandhi instrumental in fighting for South Africa's freedom?
I consider myself African! Loud and proud I am African. So why can my country
accept me?
Categories:
ostracised, hope, life, africa, me,
Form:
Couplet
Once such a threat leads to invasion
Steps must be taken to combat their actions
Time for the world to retaliate against
Reasoning was clearly never on the table
And for that, the sanctioning of sanctions
Collectively some countries have delivered
In today's world, not one person should threaten
Strength in numbers in the political arena
Eventual cessation will rise from within
Delivering a cleansing for alls tomorrows.
Categories:
ostracised, anger, angst, death, humanity,
Form:
Acrostic
I wheel to my corner
ostracised by your ebbing warmth
unyielding to my probing hand
in the eeriness of NEP's darkdom
Memories tumble down my quavering spine
images splahed on your rigid back
of moisture ladden dawn and thrilling nights
under the watery spell of your moan-istrations
Now,I watch the defiant contours of
your sensuous body
miles across the counterpane
protesting the pains of penuried existence
Categories:
ostracised, love, sad, social,
Form:
Free verse
Ostracised from the pack,
letting go of the things held dear
simply to survive barbarity.
He knew all the answers
so they spewed on him for
baring open what ought to be closed.
Death is is next to weather
the onslought of alienation.
So he takes a shotgun to the mouth.
What there is after the death,
for an instant he ponders as the slug
travels through the barrel towards his brain.
Such a pity that nature gives only one breath
and with no second chance his skull explodes
and with the flick of a lamp his dreams end.
Categories:
ostracised, death, depression,
Form:
Free verse
A meathead is definitely not an ostracised ostrich, a warbling wavering walrus, a small but vintage vibrant beetroot who claps in time, a mascot at a match, a backwards facing grinning umbrella in bright sunlight, an automatic dimmer switch winking, nor is it a tattoo of a cartoon place-mat. Basements cook eels. Slip slide slip slide smile nothing now noted north nautical nonetheless nonsensical note. Been beer beans. Wow in a jar of a car. *** Hahaha presenting a show are we? Fictitious fictional frameworks falling. Hahahha off a cliff are the best sunsets. Xxxxx dilatational diluted dripping dramas draw.
"oooo Ng hai saja hai"
Epilogue
Z
Categories:
ostracised, birthday,
Form:
Nature ages like Youth,
a bougainvillea wrapped
around a strapless watch.
Youth doesn’t look at the clock
but ignores passing hours unknowing,
innocent of the melting water.
It leaps and lunges without fear of a fading silhouette,
it smiles with missing teeth,
gaps filled with dreams that will change.
Youth giggles at the simplest of movements,
it blanches under praise -
it drifts along shores, feeling hearing holding then
abandoning the flotsam and jetsam of aging. It is a bundle of
yesterday’s plans
ostracised by calendars,
unaware that friends will leave, as
trenches are dug by
hands, wrinkled.
Youth is a promise milked into creams,
it is a sweating desire to return, rediscover the
suppleness of joints, of bones, of possibility.
Youth has not yet become a mouth that sighs,
is bougainvillea still free from being entwined, twisted and tied.
It is not yet conscious of time as an intangible abstract
forever
Categories:
ostracised, analogy,
Form:
Free verse
Do you hear what was done
Those years ago under the Australian sun
We came to what we were told
Was an empty land for the bold
Some had no choice as a convicts fall
When their sentence was at the old Bailey’s call
Free settlers paid their way here too
Thinking it was all for them to do
So hardships were worked through
Making a life for their family too
But some were pushed aside
Making their lives hard to abide
The Australian Parliament has apologised
For the way First Nations were treated and ostracised
So time marches on with some bridges mended
But it seems the progress isn’t good or as fast as intended
So now we go from one issue to the next
Leaving Australians so perplexed
How many times do we need to go through it again
I wonder when will this all find an end?
© Paul Warren Poetry
Categories:
ostracised, anti bullying, feelings, life,
Form:
Dramatic Verse