Best Ostracism Poems


Premium Member Pope Francis

Pope Francis's belief in the Almighty
has been brought to serious question,
when, on his speech on Origins, 
the Bible received nary a mention -
save for a passing glance at Genesis.
His credibility has dwindled rather perilous
it seems - considering, of course, Catholicism's 
typical rep of condemning holy writ to ostracism.
The acolytes "explode" with his
acceptance of Naturalism,
Evolution and Bigbangerism.
In a pinch he waved his magician's wand
and pronounced all prior blasphemies - gone!
God - he stated - has no such pointy stick
of which to create all, with a simple flick
of his wrist. The Almighty has limits
and shall conform to Francis's rigid
interpretation, thereof. He tips his hat
in one last show of priestly decorum:
I wish you all a most bless-ed
novus ordo seclorum.



NOTE: The term "novus ordo seclorum" is Latin for "New World Order". If you ever forget how to say it, or spell it, just pick up any American federal reserve note - it'll be right under the pyramid with the all-seeing eye.

Ableism

Ableism, in the streets in day .  People tell me how to walk, when to walk, how to live. ? 
because
  I'm blind I'm obviously  incompetent; even if not  this impression they give.
The other night I was in the most pleasant mood when a man grabbed  the cane and  it's not considered  rude.
Just a part of the ignorant theme of America and  elsewhere. ; I get it.
Yet the price to be paid  is mine and the trauma identity
 imbedded 
 Early afternoon I peeled away the gloom.
By writing  down my thoughts and feelings though abstract like the  nebulas I've grown to own.
Poetry Soup  an some showed me love.
Community, finally, but  bliss  to early...
To log in you need  a Capture code; a little image simple to you but impossible for me.
ablest surely   aren't in our  home we think; Saturday night live can't truly be that cruel.
Sorry to say it's true.
The spoken  key won't fit in the lock; give it a try and put yourself in my  rotten shoe  .
SNL wouldn't  make fun of a Jew, but they brutalize
 the blind     just as  surely as I'm talking to you.
Yes it is true; I  am witness; the verbal codes keep me from taking part just as surely as your weight  problem meant  no prom date.
I can   only have  my girlfriend log me in so long and then  I'm livid      and   screaming my   ostracism
 song.   feel terrible, side-lined, and wanted to tell the site developers.
I  go  to the contact us link but of course you needed to see in order   to send a message.
The verbal codes   inaudible
 or at best they can't be typed for glitches.
Call the BBB but unless it's a valid crime then who cares.
 If'n my   heart then it tears.
If it's my  part then  it's the role of pulling out my own hair; to pull through?And so I bit you ado.
© Adam G.  Create an image from this poem.

The State of Ostracism

THE STATE OF OSTRACISM

Excommunicated by popular vote, I became isolated in a world chosen from birth.
Priests came to convert us, but we were practicing the Baptist faith.
Through mediums, they would include themselves.
They desire for power was great.

Ostracized, my mother stories told about not being liked by others.
We were atypical to her as mixed and mutated blood from the bands of a country formed by origin, immigration, and enslavement.
As time went on, my mother focus change to a more distinct way.
A way of life was seen that was the way of a nation conceived.

The new deal was for welfare states.
The entity that administer the benefits.
The races stated to be the demographics were Black, Brown, Mixed, and White trash that flattered the rich self-interest.
What blarneyed was a poverty index.
White trash became low income to middle class.
Socio-economics manifested.

A state of ostracism is thematic test.

Family not liked, I was given poetry.
My mother stated this to me.
She said snubbed those that are not right with your pen.
Next, embrace who is worthy with profound philosophy.
See and hear the cold-shouldered that wants you to be nobody.
Speak not but write prolifically.

Topically, I relate as writer and creator of the spoken word.
Via vision and a mission stated, I am an author of poetry.
To initiate hope, I speak about my belief in God.
I am the thoughts that possess and a method that uses the vocabulary.
The words are there to line the attack...
Yet, they are also there to move mountains.
_____________________________________________________________|
Written August 28, 2016!


Evil's No More Comedy

Today, I climbed a high mountain.
Mountain where I shout my disapproval.
Disapproval of today’s social illnesses.
Illnesses shattering the life on earth.
Earth, our valuable mother.

Our kind mother’s mind’s unhappy today.
Today, days are red and prickly to dismay.
No walks but talks of wounds and worries.
Worries symbolizing contemporary sorrows.
Sorrows as the sun’s been sent off brightness.

Blazing conflicts for misery with societal evils.
Evils of acute and endless sticking on power.
Power of killing your people and feeling a doer.
Happy becoming the almighty guide.
For polygamy and alcohol abuse push wide.

Here and there dangle abuse and corruption.
Corruption and police harassment in evolution.
Harassment causing animosity and nausea.
Disorder, anarchy and negligence for criteria.
In media, tribalism and phobia en vogue.

Tribalism and ostracism feeding conflicts.
Wars predicting our fateful future in shifts.
The future’s now plunked in deep black darkness,
Slaughtering hope and causing death in a mess.
Death buries us all, and evil’s no more comedy.

Poem by Mugisho N Theophile

Premium Member Carpe Diem

Lovers gather, yelling "carpe diem"
Lovers kiss, living with totem
Lovers fall, counting walls
Lovers forget, crushing falls.

Love birds chirping as one
Under a tree skipping one by one
Above the bassinet where cuckoos nests
Below the cradle are loving breasts.

Rush to me and sail with me
On a gondola in Venice we flee
Gaping romanticism in idealism
Dying dualism without ostracism.

Premium Member Die Lorelei By Heinrich Heine - 1797-1856, Translated By T Wignesan

Die Lorelei by Heinrich Heine (1797-1856)- Translated by T. Wignesan
	For Regina von Degenfeld at Waibstadt
	-in respect and unending sufferance-

(Heine, a German Jewish lyrical and satiric poet, journalist and critic,
 settled in Paris from 1831 where he married Eugénie Mirat, an unsophisticated shop-assistant which earned him ostracism and dispossession from his family and fellows, but he made her his only heir on the condition that she re-married so that at least one person would regret his passing. In 1858, he was hobbled for life by spinal paralysis.)

Ich weiss nicht , was soll es bedeuten,
	Nonplussed am I, what could it signify
Dass ich so traurig bin;
	Plunged as I am in such a dejected mood
Ein Märchen aus alten Zeiten,
	A fairy tale from times gone by,
Dass kommt mir nicht aus dem Sinn.
	In thraldom wrapped forever to brood

Die Luft ist kühl und es dunkelt,
	Soft the cool wind buffets as the day beds down
Und ruhig fliesst der Rhein;
	And ripple free courses the Rhein
Der Gïpfel des Berges funkelt
	Mountain summit lights scintillate crown
Im Abendsonnenschein.
	Divine in sunset shine

Die schönste Jungfrau sitzet
	Exquisite maiden perched is she
Dort oben wunderbar,
	On high there resplendent
Ihr goldnes Geschmeide blitzet,
	Her golden accoutrements sparkle free
Sie kämmt ihr goldnes Haar.
	As golden tresses combs she concupiscente

Sie kämmt es mit goldnem Kamme,
	Flaxen tresses combs she with a golden comb
Und singt ein Lied dabei;
	While luring strains her lips release in lyrical glee
Das hat eine wundersame,
	Tinged in a soothing tuneful hum
Gewaltige Melodie.
	Mighty stirring melody

Den Schiffer im kleinen Schiffe
	The rower in his narrow boat
Ergreift es mit wildem Weh;
	Seized is he with bewildering pain
Er schaut nicht die Felsenriffe,
	Oblivious is he of the Rock’s craggy grotte
Erschaut nur hinauf in die Höh’.
	His eyes remain fixed high above the narrow main

Ich glaube, die Wellen verschlingen
	I believe the waves did submerge
Am Ende Schiffer und Kahn;
	In the end both boatman and rowing boat
Und das hat mit ihrem Singen
	And the deed did with her singing merge
Die Lorelei getan.
	That Lorelei had wrought.

© T. Wignesan – Paris, January 23, 2021
© T Wignesan  Create an image from this poem.


A,B,C's of Alliteration

Almost always, as additional allurements arrive, ask as a Being...
 By better borne behests become best Causes ?
  Can causes create concise concepts Diligently ?
   Do doers do decidedly dumb doldrums Ever ?
    Each eek echoes egotistical efforts enduring Familiarity...
     Faith fathers forgiveness for flaunting fabled Gifts.
      Gasps give great grief, growing gruesome Hatreds...
Hasn't humanity had hurt hearts hung Innocently ?
 Is insistence in increasing irritation inevitably incongruous Justice ?   
  Jimson jars...jitters...joggles...jolts...just jocose jurisprudence' Knell.
   Kerfuffle kin, kickshaw kept ken, kindly knaves kneading Lamentations...
    Leaving love's loaves, lordly lotharios, looking like lowlifes Made.   
     Marking more madmen mere moronic monsters meting mayhem Nearby.
Now, not never, nab needed nerves, nurture nasturtium near Openness !
 Once only one, ordained our ostracism, outrage outdone on overwrought Plight.
  Perhaps pride precludes passable patience, posing portentous prolapse Quickly !
   Quiet quandaries, quarrelsome qualms, quivering quixotic quirks Resplendent...
     Reaching relapse, revolving recidivism, reconstructed reflective reform Seen !
      Searching secretive states, seemingly simple, sincere serenity sought Through...
       Tender tears, touching together to total tympanic transformation Unjust.
Unique union...unimportant, unbending, unpopular, unless universal Veracity !
 Verbose verbalism, vertical vignettes verify vital victory Won.
  When written with wit...watershed words work wonderful Xerography !
   Xyloid xylography, xeroxed xeno X, Yet...
    Yesterday's youth, yowled yummy young yips Zanily !
     Zeitgeist, zombie zealots zapping zonked zingers...Away !!
© Dan Cwiak  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Invisible Woman

Unseen
Between shadows
Opinion is unheard
Feeling emptiness on the soul
Nobody care is she alive or dead

Sadness reflects in her lost eyes
Blank stare in the dark night
Weeping past days
Alone

Shadows
Cloak as a veil
Perceiving ostracism
As exclusion of daily life
Confining forever in four wall room

Inner fiendish voices propound
Secluding in a world
Fantasy rules
Reason


4-25-2016

The Old Bill

Bill Shakespeare is wanted for hate speech,
His study’s surrounded with tape.
The local police were slow to react,
He may already have made his escape.
There’s a chance that he’s gone into hiding
To work on the draft of a play;
Anne Hathaway helps with enquiries:
Where’s old Bill? She’s refusing to say.

She cannot abide the intrusion,
As detectives examine each sonnet,
If she pops down the market she wears a dark cape
And hides her face under a bonnet.
She’s missing the warmth of her husband,
His sensitive hands and dark beard.
She hopes that they’ll soon be together
But meanwhile, her dear Bill’s disappeared.

And Bill’s understandably nervous
’Cause writing these plays is quite hard.
He enjoys married life with his beautiful wife
And his neighbours now call him “The Bard.”
The risks of a long legal battle
Could distract him for over a year,
If the courts rule against his linguistics,
That might end his productive career.

This poem references the emotions of fear, hope and love now that historic scripts are frequently re-appraised - and sometimes condemned - against modern norms and expectations.

Ostracism

Get your head out the sand man  										          lookup to the one who can                                                             						 like an eagle He will teach you to fly                                         								 never alone Bye and Bye
© John Beam  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Alien Invasion

Fear of the Outsider, the interloper, the alien
Is as old as humanity itself.
Xenophobia doesn’t just apply to someone foreign 
And “not like us”,
It applies to anyone who may threaten 
Our way of life, the status quo, the norm
And way “it’s always been.”
From local bar to climbing crag, surfing beach, 
Ghetto corner, and Union shop floor,
The locals, sometimes multigenerational deep,
Tend to claim their turf
With the worst of human qualities;
Fear and loathing
Sublimated into snide ostracism, 
Backstabbing gossip and withering looks
If not fully expressed with seething hate 
Slander, bullying and assault.
Meanwhile life goes on for the Xeno
Head down, eyes averted, pathways diverted,
While in their heart
They recognize the love their haters have
For their cherished way of life and ground
Is not exclusive
And no different from their own.

(9/6/25)

God Bursts Everywhere

How can you stand there and claim God isn't real
He is all around, in what we can see and feel,
In prejudice fueled by hatred, flowing red
Ripping rapids through compassion's dry riverbed;

In neighborhoods teeming with prying eyes
Bulging over fences, in bedrooms, and private lives;
In gilded parasites sitting atop golden seats,
Leeching the life from those who starve at their feet;

In fuming hordes swarming the streets of Egypt today,
Erupting in a destructively violent melee;
In fear spreading like an infectious disease-
Fueled by ignorance, desperate to appease;

In the status quo, being viciously defended,
Holding so many chained in the shadows, descended;
In families wrecked by thundering storm systems
Raging rains of shame and icy ostracism;

In pests swarming where they just don't belong,
Forcing the fragile yet powerful hand of the law;
In minds trained shut to imagination and reason alike,
Blinded by pestilence which consumes all visible light;

In wars waging on at home and overseas,
Smearing innocent blood in His name.
The sickness of God brings man to his knees.
If he exists matters not, but he's real just the same.

Racial Harrassment

The Pre-Civil Rights days are making a comeback,
where "other" ethnicities are under attack,
Asian, Indians, Jews, Hispanics and Blacks,
The daggers are being thrown at backs,

Minorities have come a long way from the
days of degradation and ostracism,
Why would anyone want to revist that era again?

Keeping minorities at bay won't restore the economy,
neither will violence, hate crimes and hostility,

We are all equals in the eyes of God,
having earthly experiences that are good
and bad,

We travel the same stormy seas,
Racial Harrassment only brings contempt
and dis-ease,

In unity peace will be found and maybe resolutions that
will astound.

Premium Member You Must Leave

When they saw you, they kicked you out of the place.
Nobody inside the joint desires to see your face.
You were found guilty of a patron’s infraction.
Ostracism has been the result of this action.
The house does not want scavengers around the machines.
Taking unclaimed money results in undesirable scenes.
This hotel casino is one you must be passing.
If you are found inside, you will be trespassing.
Well, for something good, look at it this way:
When you go home, you will not be broke today.

Premium Member On the Outside, Looking In



I'm on the outside, looking In
Quite often I feel like the only word
in a poem that doesn't rhyme,
or I'm a nickle, five cents short
when I'm in need of a dime.

You make me feel like I don't belong.
Distress is written all over my face.
I'm the only wallflower at a dance.
The shy one in need of a hiding place.

I don't want to be the odd puzzle piece
that everyone overlooks and rejects.
I have a heart that's been wounded.
Your ostracism has crippling affects.
© Lin Lane  Create an image from this poem.

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