Long Outcast Poems

Long Outcast Poems. Below are the most popular long Outcast by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Outcast poems by poem length and keyword.


Premium Member In Silence

Not sure when it started at 6 staying
out of a brutally violent household
taking to the unforgiving streets.

The streets became my teacher and
family albeit dangerous life lessons
learned from a merciless source.

Spiritual and corporal sorrow from father’s
beatings, his cruel degradation too much to 
bear, as everyone stood by watching me bleed.

At 13, befriending teens from troubled homes, drugs 
numbing the pain, leading to ingestion to dangerous 
narcotics, a perilous escape, always got away.

Running the streets with pretty young broken girls; 
Waving down guy’s cars, thrill seeking, I guess,
our risky behaviors always abetting trouble.

Working excessive overtime as legal secretary on 
subways late nights, sexually assaulted, threats 
shouted by strangers, incessant danger lingers.

Hanging out in nightclubs, as a melancholic outcast 
dating depraved men with no regard for human life, 
defeated, unable to break free, bound by fear.

Running like a wounded animal, steel trap rapt around me
as I bleed out, while others transgress moral law by
feverishly striking me down; an already wounded soul.

Years of starving myself, must stay pretty to
Keep up façade for the ruthlessly judgmental.

Never intentionally, but perhaps subconsciously
continuing in this path of inevitable destruction.

Today, realizing my son needs me more than ever, as he 
suffers anguish from life’s severity against the meek, 
imploring God save me so I can be his ardent advocate. 

I plead to GOD for protection of my soft-hearted son, 
when I leave this tortured life that devastated my 
spirit.  I pray for mercy In Silence!


Another Confession, Inspired By Denise Narayadu's Confessions of a Drug

You invigorated my mind, then followed my heart
I felt the loss of myself  as the dark hours passed
Will this wanting ever end, how could I let it start

You were so clever slowly breaking me part by part
Brief moments of euphoria that never seem to last
You invigorated my mind, then followed my heart

Now I’m a donkey and for a carrot I’ll pull the cart
Slave to a cruel master and forever I will be outcast
Will this wanting ever end, how could I let it start

A wise fool I am, confessing myself I’m so smart
Foolishness displayed by the useless questions I ask
You invigorated my mind, then followed my heart

If you’re confessing your weakness, I’ll cast a dart
You feel the sting, and my words make you aghast
Will this wanting end, how could I let is even start

You want reality  to be one glorious work of art
Out of that, only shame and regret have amassed
You invigorated my mind, then followed my heart
Will this wanting ever end, how could I let it start 


As stated this was inspired by Denise Narayadu's poem. Denise is a wonderful poet who's work I recently discovered, she's gaining momentum quickly.

Remains of Eternity (Scenes From Above)

I saw you at the front of the steps 
I simply smiled and you said 
"There's nothing left" 
You seemed astonished 
But then again I promised
Open your eyes and take note 
Beneath the ash, soot, and moat
See for yourself the remains of an eternity
Moments before death
Moments before new life
There was something that out-weighed a single breath 
Family and hugs 
Bug stains on a pair of brand new Lugs 
I leave this place with no regrets 
Fulfill prophecies 
And up the any on unprofitable bets
For now the plan is set 
You and I are pieces of eternity 
With every head bowed 
And every eye closed 
We see the tragedies we've allowed 
Though I'll reach heaven 
I'll remain a part of Hell 
Let the furnace dry up any tears in my trail 
I was once here, Once there
At some point I was everywhere
Reality tears from the eyes of eternity 
Once a coffee hut relaxed upon a corner 
Sympathy of a day to day mourner
Warm blue berry pie, just a slice
Seems I’ve been cursed an outcast in this life
Shadows taunt my guilt in these dark moments
The trauma that left Loved ones speechless 
Even when they were so desperate to comment 
A Smile that stained the face of a once close friend
Until my closure, until my ill fated end
The sounding of a missionaries gun
Out in the open, no where to run
Could it have been the suffering in my innocence?
A figure some what indecent 
Take me, but through the fire, through the rain
These words will remain through eternity

Premium Member A Fire Is Cast By a Fire

a cast is a outburst of a flame
fire is cast into fire
fire is cast into flame
fire is cast into a outburst
fire is cast into a torch flame
fire is cast into a flame,torch,and outburst
a flaming torch is a flaming outburst

a torch is a flame of a outburst
burst is burst into flame
burst is burst into a torch
burst is burst into an outburst
burst is burst into a fire
a bursting flame is a bursting fire
a bursting outcast is a bursting flame

outcast is cast by a bursting flame
outcast is cast by fire
cast by fire is outcast by fire
cast by fire is cast by fire
cast by fire is cast by flame
cast is outcast by flame
outcast is outcast by a torch

Premium Member Grandad's Secret Lemon Tree

Skirting church on Puig de Missa,
then down the slope towards the river,
St Eularia's Rui, with path that winds on to the sea.
Past the smelly goats, where poking little
fingers get nibbled, and goat-dribbled
through the fence. 

Billy stands high on outcast fridge and
watches babies butt their silly billy heads.
Then past the scraggy peacock, beneath the
orange tree, with oranges bunched and
bright-framed in darkest green among their leaves.
Then walk beside the cleft and craggy wall,
where lizards still unseen await more warming sun.

Past the preening cockerel and his shining
feather suit, strutting proud between each 
grounded peck, while hammock lies still,
stretched between winter's barren trees,
waiting for that day with warmer breeze, 
for May or June to come.

Then water's edge where winter's rain still
trickles over fall, and replenished pool below 
is home to ducks, where ducks and cats are
fed, regardless of what town notice said.

Then past overhanging pomegranates,
three branched all in a row, the top one
pecked by tiny bird, and beneath those rosy
balls, a ball of baby mullet, soft sucking and
disturbing water's idle glassy flow. 

Then lazy walk beyond the bridge where
river's wider mouth has more silty sandy
edge, where out towards horizon a mackerel
sky meets night-stilled sea, and sun's soft
and bright reflected rise holds promise of a
perfect day.


But in between, a secret quest, where
grandad wanders from the path all through
the damp and dewy grass, bright spotted
with Spring's yellow flowers. 
And so the lemon tree is reached, and five fat
lemons quickly picked, avoiding branches
nasty pricks.

And grandad tucks them safe away.
For this is grandad's secret lemon tree, 
with plenty left, and so for sure we'll come
again. We'll come again at least once more. 
We'll come again another day.
Form: Rhyme


Premium Member Space of Wrath

Slither in, slither out, and look inside;
my borders are locked, the pale curtains thin
yet  flames of vengeance stir from battered pride,
and rage is the owner that lives within.
The floors smell of acid, my betrayed past
a tear, a deceit from one scheming  rake;
when  nights’ lesion nips  this maiden, outcast
as fury whips from a spirit’s mistake.
My gate at the front hides a moonlit view
that cracks with rust without making a sound,
it’s  latch of distaste I can’t share with you
for heart is numb ; the key  is not around.

Though empty this place of anger may be;
Iron are the walls, now it handles me.



Mad As A Hornet--Sonnet Contest
Sponsor: john lawless
10/29/2015
Form: Sonnet

Premium Member PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR RESTORING HEALTH UNTO US

August 19 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Jeremiah 30-32

Key Verse – Jeremiah 30:17 For I will restore health unto thee, and I will heal thee of thy wounds, saith the LORD; because they called thee an Outcast, saying, This is Zion, whom no man seeketh after.

PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR RESTORING HEALTH UNTO US	

Praise be to God for restoring health unto us:
Healing us of our sin-wounds
Hindering us from soul-wavering
Helping us in our spiritual warfare
Holding us for our service-winning
Hearing us in our struggles’ weariness
Hoisting us toward striving worthiness
Handling us midst our stewardship’s worship 
Hampering us against selfishness with worldliness

Jeremiah 31:3 Praise be to the Lord for 
appearing unto us with His:
Love’s affirmation
Leadership authority
Liberty-lifting up assistance 
Load of abundance for our accomplishments 
Lessons on life, attesting His listening assurance

Jeremiah 32:27 Praise be to the Saviour Who does
impossible things, and nothing is too hard for Him as He:
Nurtures our redemption with His triumphant truth
Navigates with us in our reaching-out travels
Nourishes our restoration we can trust
Never ridicules our tested testimony
Negates our tactlessness by His teachings. Amen!

August 19, 2024

Ima Misfit

In all my life that I've existed you see,
I've never fit in anywhere, like it was meant to be.
 IMA now up there in my older year's,
a misfitt that's been filled with laughter and so many tear's.
 You may see me as a misfitt, a rebel, a lost cause, and that's fine I say,
cause I do tend to my own, as I make my own way.
 With or without you I can go on in this world you see,
a misfitt, a rebel, an outcast, a blacksheep I be.
 No matter what lable you or the world sticks to me.
 Ima going to do everything that I can,
to raise me and my kind becoming a better man.
 If you feel like the world has casted you out,
your a misfit, a blacksheep with outta doubt.
 That's ok as long as you're making positive change's each day,
becoming the best of you in every way..
 Labels are for those who believe and think only of their self it's true,
be ye humble, let it be other's that raises you.
 Keep your head above the waters, your heart over the thought's of the mind,
being a misfit, a rebel, an outcast is still life you will find..
Form: Rhyme

The last ghost of Christmas past


It feels like the ship’s half mast

Mystery as history’s been recast

The last ghost of Christmas past


Impropriety savaging our society

Notoriety ravaging the entirety


Fake tyrants make migrants an outcast

Primal survival and tribal bible revival

Mormon iconoclasts in Gormenghast


The nub of pub hubbub have a blast

Cloned then dethroned closing fast

Snub our community hub flabbergast


Crowds roared as bands toured

New names explored heaven sent 

Adored venues & events floored


Ignored by deplored property fraud 

Hysterical dissent & lyrical lament

Landlord hell bent the rent soared 


Even cricket’s oldest format now old hat

Temper at T20’s emperors new clothes

Every game the same just tit & more tat

But treasure troves as in roves the droves

Milk or silk for the ilk of that fat cat twa*
 

Farce of the hospo carcass hospitalised

Reign of the chain stops Mom & Pop shops

Locavore lair despair flair heirs marmalised

Flops grandstanding bland branding pops


Deranged how we are now so estranged

No one mops up the slops Laptops drop

Changed so fast for many trumpets blast

Hark back to the rose tinted halcyon past


As smart phones are overcome by dumb

Aghast say goodbye to the whole AI lie

The forecast for the future well overcast

Last post of the host & ghost of the past
Form: Rhyme

Premium Member If I Weren'T Afraid

If I weren't afraid,
        full of apprehension and fear;
      and I did not always feel so betrayed,
        while trying to make fear disappear.
  Oh, I am undaunted in my search for calm and cool,
  and not the nerd girl and outcast I was in school;
    and I can even act a fool,
               remove my masquerade.

               Yes, I can make you laugh,
        not by jokes but by the things I say;
      just ask the nursing home patients and staff,
        I often entered a room doing ballet.
  No, not by jokes but by the pain I often undid,
  by the compassion that I never keep hid;
    by courage I muster amid,
               even when I am afraid.

______________________________
September 14, 2019


Poetry/Rhyme/If I Weren't Afraid
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1180-969-02
All Rights Reserved.  Written under Pseudonym.
Form: Rhyme

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