Best Outcast Poems
If you're weird, a black sheep, a natural outsider,
If you fish in a solitary pond.
If you come from the lonely, the lost and forgotten,
If you're eccentric, living beyond
The social etiquette of populist mantra,
To say and do what others demand?
Then you and I are friends in our gorgeous sublime,
To face the world, together, hand in hand.
When one feels like an Outcast, one can over compensate
In ways that are extreme to try and change their fate.
This can make them do things others cannot relate to,
If they know not of such pain one suffers through.
When one is on the outside, always looking in,
Self worth and confidence, existence of is thin.
This aloneness bearing compels the affected heart
To seek ways to be accepted if only just in part.
Often unconventional are the ways selected
And so, often too are the ways by most rejected,
Which then leads to a deeper desperation
Of longing to belong to end the separation.
Extreme behaviours can be of good or bad intention,
But either way they are to seek and to draw attention
To the fact that inside of their instigating heart,
There is a place longing to belong, a very empty part.
Many folks are heartless, cruel, insensitive;
Shun, disown others who unlike them, live.
With those who are different in various ways,
Judgment's cast on through obvious displays.
If one hasn't ever been on the outside looking in,
They can't understand how one's feeling deep within
Who has lost their self confidence, esteem, even worth,
And will even question why, the reasons for their birth.
We live in a cruel world where more and more are mean,
Where more and more care not, it's such a selfish scene.
More find reasons to use differences to others, cast aside,
Than find reasons to in harmony live peacefully and reside.
Too many humans blame those who different from them live
To excuse their bad behaviour for kindness they don't give,
But this reflects on 'them' poorly; they're just too ignorant to see.
Those with malice who are so callous, the Outcast, they should be.
Written by Artsieladie/Sharon Donnelly
©2016-11-13 06:58:00 (EDT)
All rights reserved.
It's good to keep in mind...
"Mature people are inspired;
Immature people covet what's desired."
~ Artsieladie Quote
Essentially, there are two opposite Christologies.
Jesus as King, Jesus as outcast
Scripture plays with both
But the 2nd speaks to me far more powerfully
I like the idea of a Savior
Lives with the meek and poor
The humble and humiliated
A Savor that says power and wealth are obstacles to spiritual health
A former sheepherder
Understood not being able to rest until those in your care are all recovered and safe
Lines from Psalm 118 repeated in Acts 4:11
Applied to Jesus
One of numerous places appears in the New Testament
The seeming paradox of these two cristologies are reconciled
The humiliated is triumphant; the one cast out is now at the center
As the resurrection account has unfolded in the gospel readings
We see the rejected one
Seemingly destroyed by earthly powers
Victorious
merry group of friends
smart ones sticking together
i gaze with longing
lonely days and nights in tears
it hurts being an outcast
@ Nadiya (2 April '15)
I've been set aside
As if I should hide
I'm the social outcast
Let's see how long this lasts
I walk down the street
So may people to meet
But I see none to talk
So I guess I'll just walk
Saturday night rolls around
And I leave to go down town
So many parties to go to
But my social status is to low
I've been set aside
As if I should hide
I' the social outcast
Let's see how long this last
First day of a new school year
And it's all just as I feared
The preps and jocks over run us
Not like anyone cares if I make a fuss
They just need to wait
And I'll keep an eye on their fate
The looks and muscles will soon fade
Oh, won't that be a sad day
I've been set aside
As if I should hide
I'm the social outcast
Let's see how long that last
Fifteen yeas have past
I have climb the latter of success
That fast food joint your working at
yeah it's true, I own that
I'm not the social disease
I realize as you beg on your knees
You have five kids to feed
I can't imagine the help you need
I came from a village
Very fortunate to have attended college
He came from a cottage
Got lost on his quest to finding courage
I need not waste time for I have no future leverage
During the busy day when both the minute and the hour arm of the clock
Fell on each other at the very top of the clock
Signaling the day in its half
When the sun becomes shinny and unfriendly
They sat in the class all catchy and quietly
Seeking to decipher the key to unlock the answers
to scientific formulae and mathematical equations
I walked bare footed with a single arm shirt hanging to my west
With a very flat stomach as though I have smelled no food in the years past
My skin pays no more attention to the burning sun
For they now look like father and son
I travel from one town to another
Looking for what?
you will wonder my brother
People stared at me and wonder
Most people think of me as a thief
But those who knew me look at me in grief
I am no thief nor mad
I am only a boy who is grieved and sad
Searching for a way to making my future glow and my progeny glad
I am the scavenger of the waste metallic materials called scrap
I am not solving scientific formulae and mathematical equations
I am seeking the key to unlock my future from the shackles of poverty*
My palms are all callused and nails fractured
My teeth lost its purity for it knows no tooth brush in a while
My beautiful toning black African colour left without notice
My youthful smile gave way to a sadden old age
But I was brimming in determination to succeed
I shook off my lethargy and fought on all odds
I walked, scratched and bled just to work
Most people said I am useless and or mad
But I was just a hard working lad
Working so hard to see myself through education
So to you I say, see me not as destruction
For all I need is your kind word of motivation
And do show to me the right direction
So that I may be among the beautiful generation
In contributing my quota to building the nation
That is all I ask, I plea thee
I walk a solitary path, a reclusive soul/
Lonely whispers echo where shadows console/
Nobody speaks, nobody sees/
I'm lost in their world, like a silent breeze/
In public, I vanish, an invisible man/
An outcast, a shadow in their grander plans/
Yet within me burns a heart so true/
A Romeo's passion, longing for breakthrough/
I may be deaf, but I hear through skies/
Telepathy bridges what hearing denies/
My silent ears, tune to unspoken sound/
A mind reader, a Psychic yet deaf/
I hear you, feel you, though silence surrounds/
Don't hate me, don't judge what you think you know/
Don't let my deafness mark me with woe/
For I am not less, and I am not weak/
A soul in the shadows, yearning to speak/
The journey stretches, endless and long/
Loneliness binds, but I remain strong/
A road of solitude, yet I've always known/
The quiet holds power, it's my own/
Life as of late has been a path I have not perceived that I would go along again. I thought that I was getting better then I ever have been before but now I see it it the other way around. I’m a sad pitiful excuse for a human being who isn't taking the full opportunity of life. Instead of going out with friends and living the time of my life, I sit inside slitting my wrist and worrying what the person I never talk to thinks of me. I’ve lost so many friendships if that is even what you can call them because I worried about how I acted around them and never realized thats why they liked me in the first place. I would always conform to the people I wish to called friends not know that I was just a pest to them that they were trying to avoid, I was so jaded as to wether someone liked me or not I didn't see the clear evidence that they didn’t. Even then I still try to conform for them as if they approval is as important as god to adam & eve. They promised me things, got my hopes up for months on ends knowing in the back of their head that it would not happen, it was as if I was just their little puppet on strings dancing to whatever tune they wished to play. I’ve been so focused on how my future would be that I never realized how shitty the present is for me. I got to these therapy appointments where they give me pills on pills telling me i’ll get better but always get told im getting worse. I only have myself to blame because I know I dont want to get better I just want for the pain and distress to be over in an instant cause when i work on fixing it the smallest things makes me feel worse then when I started. I’m sorry for being to be a weird, awkward, annoying person for I have not done anything to help your opinion of me to change, I just make it worse and worse. I dont know why I thought I would fit in with you if I cant even fit in with my own judgement of myself. I’ need to disconnect from the world and everyone in it as if a never ending hibernation that I only come out of once I’m accepted. You can think and call me whatever you like as long as you are honest I appreciate to know how I am an outcast to you that way I can hide it as I try to impress you with another pitiful attempt at giving you the friendship you have rejected in the past
-K
I heard their call in the far land
But I will not respond
Their deeds I will not look at before rising
Their accusations and murmurs however whack me in the face
And my tears become unstoppable
Is it my fault that I know not my father?
A first son born into a royal home
But today I walk among our people as an outcast
I am a stranger
With no father’s blessing or a mother’s love
Is it my fault I come by night?
To the home of my father
I come by night because I am ashamed
Ashamed because I am disowned
Disowned because I am despised
Despised because I am abused
It is not my fault I know not my mother’s prime mate
When I walk among our people I am teased
Teased because I have no father’s blessing
They toot all day, enquiring
‘’But where is his father?’’
Answers always arrive at my door post
‘’My father is dead and left me with no blessings’’
But I know he lives somewhere in the next village
Papa, come and shower your blessings on me
As a child is born and loved
Papa, come and kiss me
As a child is accepted by his own people
For in your absence
I was humiliated, lacerated and castigated by your own people
How many sleepless night I have encountered
When they say there goes the outcast
But papa, come and shower your blessings on me
As a child is born and loved
Papa, come and kiss me
As a child is accepted by his own people
For I am your child and a son of this village
When the ceremony has come
For the sons to recount their father’s achievement
And pride themselves with their father’s glories
Tears filled my eyes
For my face drenched in pool of tears
And my mind enquire
‘’Where is your father’s glory’’
And how should I know
I am an out cast
Hated and despised by his own people
Like a stranger
Like an uninvited guest
Papa, come and wipe the tears on my face
For your arm is all I crave for.
Nii- Ayi Solomon
A tiny runt who cannot run,
mom kicked me out because I limp.
The big dogs call me dumb, a gimp,
off-beat orphan, claimed by no one.
A Mowgli bumming all around,
Where is that warmer welcome mat?
there sits Bagheera, mama cat;
a foundling's hope perhaps is found.
She takes me in with her own kits;
they share and care for me at last.
Not long and I forget my past;
my name escapes the dog obits.
October 5, 2020
Sponsor: nette onclaud
Contest: In Praise of the Ode
Theme: # 3. About an Orphan
Why does one feel outcast?
Why base self-worth on the opinion of others?
A great and tragic lapse in ego,
irrational thought, and weak superego.
An outcast allows themself to be victim,
being subjugated by their perceived “tormenters”.
A compliment that I have not succumbed
to the societal norms of hatred, envy, jealousy,
disdain, racism, and exclusion.
My mind is my own and I follow my gut that tells me right from wrong.
I will not comply to be liked, included, loved, or admired.
So call me outcast, I wear it as a badge of valor and courage.
If they are staring at you anyway,
do a little soft shoe.
Soul - an outcast ?
Soul is an outcast beneath this sheath,
seldom surfacing from right underneath!
Stoic as ever at the on-going spectacle;
intervening wisdom - ever expecting a miracle.
Apprehended and obsessed to thrills that dissipate;
oblivious to the fact that it is the mind that create!
Incarcerated for lives in the past and used to living beneath,
indeed the Soul is an outcast Being beneath the sheath.
Vagaries of thoughts and mind that is given in to - 'oh mate'!
innumerable routes of torments that we take it through and subjugate.
Intoxicated with acquired vices and scruples galore;
will it ever swim across to see the coast in any yore ?
Attempts to flush the Spirit out with spirits will only make it flee;
Nay can you smoke the Soul out like you do the bee!
It will slip out unannounced - thence your time for your last wreathe,
of course the Soul is an outcast, deep down below the sheath!
Find an anchor with nature and character that is debonaire,
to steer through the plicatures and help contemplate on that abstract 'Solitaire'!
Other modes of journey in music, art or any rhythm - for that wisdom,
be pursued with focus and passion to swap for that - ever reverent freedom!
Fleeting time passeth every moment - never to return,
emasculate in vision and mission - looming large and threaten!
Emancipation from all bonds I seek before I finally breathe!
Alas, for my Soul that is an outcast in my own sheath!
is it me, or is it my inherent personality?
humanity has become strange, difficult to understand.
i may too have an insecurity
of these worldly and tragic complexities i have to withstand.
if only one valuable word could be triumphantly said,
such a word that would resurrect my soul from the immortal pain
then i would feel a sense of victory, and my loss thus paid.
whenever the sky roars with fury, i know that something cleansing is to
follow...rain.
i need to be rehabilitated back to my old ways
what was it that forbid me from joining them then?
i have done myself a terrible discursive, and now my heart wails.
it is still hard to trace, to trace what really led me to the den.
i have allowed them to infest their virtues in my territory
they have poisoned my behaviour like rust stains steel.
but now i know, that i will never be part of them, and it feels like an entry
into a cleansed state of mind, at my own free will.
and for all this, I AM AN OUTCAST
a slave to my inordinary past.
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A beach hut in my mind atop the shores of time and, a friend of the outcast....
Not always upon the outside nor, even the in although
I have had moments along lifes journey and way ~
Makes me consider a recent verse: how can one love what they cannot see?
See what they do not seek? Everyday another centimeter deeper
Into the depths of love I go; knowing, that I am not alone....
A friend of the outcast, what a wonderful thought and dream!
This bread for the heart and nourishment for the Soul ~
The crippled, blind, lost, alone; obese, but to whom and nerds and geeks???
Julie Bristow called my humble self Sir Galahad once but, twas a joke
Ah, but to be so gallant....
Cut by the knife and here comes my chance and, considering
Eternity, inside of their beautiful eyes and precious lives ~
A full tank of oxygen, tropical waters, white sands and misfits; myself!?
Looking at them all now amid these splendors, more brilliant their colours
Than the heavens which paint the sky and their laughter, tis a symphony
These melodies; rising their resounding within the land of broken toys....
But broken unto whom? Makes me smile, makes me cry, but not for long ~
I haven't got the time is what I used think until one day, I died; borne inside?!
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....“A Friend of The Outcast” *
Note: Smile ~ “Another Repo * The Winter of 06/07 ~ `Love, Always,`” John!:) ~