Outcaste Poems

Dead World

Dead World

Only bog, a marshland, outcaste life, a world of a life
A world of a bona fide and kind-hearted life, no image
No vision, no view, nothing, the future is blind, a kind

the one of our missed love. All of them. Killed hopes
by your will, you followed your nazi psychologists. I died
my life, the hoped children, still waiting for their lights

You are an English lady and I am a European man. No kinds.
We are no lives. No life. I come from the health socialization
You are driven by foggy psychology. English misty lands

England has killed its roots. All the European lines
You have no river or path in a European life, a far live
My soul and demon needed to send you a saver's hand

You cut off my hand
You killed our lines
Loved you my heart,
my ancestors
was waiting for you
with crystal hearts

Loved you
Vilmos
Demon

Ode To Ambedkar

Part II

What would have happened to million’s fate, 
If Subedar Ramji had failed, thee to set.
In 1891’s simmering heat of April
Born true nationalist Phule’s pupil.

Being motherless boy, thee set sails,
Thee had to bear brunt of devilish veils.
Under the curse of being an outcaste,
Hiding behind were satanic verses vast.

Fighting stiffly with ethnic bigotry,
Thee maintained disciplined gallantry.
Thee was not allowed a sip to drink life source,
from glossy vessels tainted by ritualistic force. 

Passing exams with flying colours, 
Thee received scholarship armours.
Baroda Maharaja fuelled thy intellectual leap,
Thus, begun stripping naked waists cheap.

Nirvana

I am liquid moonlight;
The ashes of dreams.
I am the realization of the impossible;
The renunciation of thought, serene.
I am the swimming seasons of time;
The memories yet to come.
I am the flawless equilibrium of the outcaste scavenger;
The infinite equanimity of the illuminate sun.
I am the embodiment of dispelled desire;
The sage.
I am the squire.

Advice Shall Suffice and Entice

My Haiku About Daily Events

need some nice advice
write a poem which should suffice
enlighten and entice

Seahawks Versus Bronchos
Football Game Overseas

more money must make
long trip we will have to take
went across wide lake

Results of Hearing News

suffered such a strain
did like driving us insane
had been a big pain

did have a delay
they never knew time of day
with minds like to play

would lie and procraste
on them pulled something fast
now am an outcaste

Buffoon Reads History

I met a raccoon with a look so gullible;
Stumbling he came from a jungle called global.

Among the families with a very few high caste,
He lives in the periphery as an utter outcaste.

When asked to describe his present destiny,
He sneered and I said, "For villainy and tyranny". 

His well-dressed ancestors lived in a mansion,
When those baboons began their expansion.

Buffoons have no love for incidents of blood,
So I’ll drop here, I’m sorry, just a tear-flood………

Thus, he has lost his wealth not for any thunder,
But for those ruffians’ out and out plunder.

Now baboons are so rich, but raccoon is so poor,
And they can sing songs, yet he mourns every hour.

If you’d get offended for recalling this history,
I’d drink a pot of toddy and munch a plate of pastry.



Feb. 26, 2021
Biting Satire Poetry Contest

Shed

Shed illusions of separateness
your silence
Regrets
Shed noise that you're worthless
Better off dead

Shed mountains of doubt
Fear that rips you in two
Shed harm, hurt and pain
Leaving you all black and blue

Then breathe
Breathe out
Breathe in

Know that you grow stronger
Now begin yet again

Shed layer upon layer
Let them fall to the floor
Shed layer upon layer
Sweep them straight out the door

Shed shame
Your head
heavy
Your voice
laden with strife

Shed angry,
loud voices
leaving you
Scared for your life

Shed
A feeling
A knowing
That He won't
Help you

Shed Pride
Greed
Selfishness
And an old friend or two

Shed isolated
Misunderstood
Outcaste
Black Sheep

Shed until
You
Shed
Your fear of sleep

What now you say
Shed
Shed some more

Shed till your
Shiny
Shiny and new
Shed till your green
No Longer
Blue

Shed till your night
Is not scary at all
Shed till you know
You'll not stagger
Not fall

Shed till a smile
Comes across your face
Shed till God washes you
With only God's Grace

Then one day, no longer
No shedding be done
Ascend to the
Heavens
Your game has been won.

Gordon Martin
July 27, 2018

Villanelle: Whose Condition Is the Worst Everyone Asks

Villanelle: Whose condition is the worst everyone asks

Whose condition is the worst everyone asks
“Mine!” “Mine!” “Mine!” - everyone’s desperate cry
Why the powers that decide wear such sharp tusks

Look at the basking billions enjoyng tasks
Then watch the hare-lipped cock-eyed shrivelled wretch sigh
Whose condition is the worst everyone asks

Gypsy dejection makes outcaste maniacs
Black film difference opportunities buy
Why the powers that decide wear such sharp tusks

Must everyone’s fate be owed to dead crime larks
Birth time and place do not the living defy
Whose condition is the worst everyone asks

Who asked to be born let him rip open masks
Post-Big Bang soup stray elements unify
Why the powers that decide wear such sharp tusks

High and low meek and strong beg for the same marks
Nothing’s neither here nor there after we die
Whose condition is the worst everyone asks
Why the powers that decide wear such sharp tusks

© T. Wignesan – Paris,  2015

Had To Be Hung

Had To Be Hung

How could he have been an outcaste?
Must have been somewhere in his past
To be forgotten, not remembered at all
While from God, he will await His call.

Him as he was should God try to take
After all of the hearts he often did break
On so many others himself would force
With misty eyes all found much remorse.

Had to be hung was proper thing to do
Who never had been like me or you
Horse leaper forward as it did lunge
From world, his life we then did expunge.

On his grave marker, what will it wear?
Here lies a killer who never would care
Looked up in sky and saw his soul pause
Name on grave left behind was a lost cause.

James Serious Mysterious Horn

The Quest Was On

The first morn’s yellow flames pulsated
Over the sliver sky’s infinite flank. 
Adam, the blessed father of mankind, 
Opened his wheat-toned  eye lids; 
Garnished with golden lashes,
And the delicate membrane gave way
To the heavenly light and air to begin 
Their mission in due skill with senses !
Proclaiming and praising the splendor 
Of The Merciful, and expressing gratitude
Did he bow on the season-less ground,
While The Bountiful had his mastery 
Explained to the Angels and ordered
To prostrate before His new creation!
All , save Satan, did instantly obey the Lord,
While the soothing glory of the lofty house
Witnessed that ecstatic occurrence ever;
Though the epic malice unto man
Was instilled by the Outcaste,
Man’s Quest had its run ‘ON’ since then.

Sheer

Sheer fine batiste
Batiste de soie
Ghostly creature outcaste
Floats past upstairs window
Sad down turned lips frown
Gone arriviste    

Sponsor:Nette Onclaud
Contest: Poem Of Compression
October 1, 2013
Poet: Sara Kendrick

Write Great Poems

Write Great Poems

Write great poems, I will never quit
And the millionth number hope to hit
Regarding my poems people have read
After some prayers to God they all said.

If you were weak and once an outcaste
And have poor memories of times that past,
Read my poems is what you should do;
Always to yourself be sure to be true.

Behind me, display my poems on a screen,
And of all departments do tell each dean
"All of their views will be very appreciated
From all of those who are highly educated."

jthorn5656@atmc.net

In the Presence of Nobody

great things forgotten
sacrificed to the attic of time,
inventions rusted into an obsolete...
good deeds with time, dullen, turn mad
on the canvas of the modern eye...

brittle flowers in a cracked vase
monet into dali
life's burr turns upon itself...bleed...outcaste...

when eating becomes meaningless exhibition
we need 
for somebody to look us in the eye and say
that wasn't so great-been done before... 
show me something with sparkling honesty
give it to me from the heart of the heart
just the sponge cake-no strawberries and cream

not so great things are forgotten
tossed into the attic
to mingle with great things forgotten
in the attic of time and truth....
{time always tells the truth}
to spawn mediocrity in the presence of nobody
where eating becomes spectacular again!

Hatred Is Love

Hatred is Love
Disguised as society
Made the randomly laws established
Deep into the root of religion
Cloaked like a vigilante
Seeking blood revenge
How it creates
Sprouting into the minds 
Of our fragile seeds
Growing into turbulence
And wrapping its death around culture
Not rich nor poor
Can outcaste the imps of green
Not the skin and bones
Nor the loving handles
Can change the foundation
It was built by our hands
Each year tragedy is another brick
Lives at cost are the cement
Build the Hell,
But do not be surprised
Of the demons that sit
To wait and antagonize
The demeanor of holiness
In which we have tried to implement

Sequel To Hollow Commenting

My words are pert and curt
and right in right that's hurt
give them space or get disgraced
I am infallible do not come around my poems
give me my medicine and send me on pace.

If you do, I am teeth gnash and bare
take it bad like a scum hurled here
I may be wrong
but you have no right
to get in my sight
pick my mistakes and that shaded light
because if you do so
I will ask you to keep away
from my works 
and give me back my dork
and if you persist
I will resist
through an ignore
hurt ass yeah!
take the spite!


wherever the rotten vermin enters
she sends the scare
knowing that she is on fry
entering any commenting club
she is shy
if she is allowed
in ignorance
her ego runs on mayhem
and everybody is soon on dare
she is a nerd that is hard to shake
a critique that is impervious to her faults
which she simply cannot hear
or make a corrective take.


A self conceited nerd that is fermenting in self crowned glory of artistic and linguistic  
perfection-where the foul smell of self conceit precedes her by miles.Many smirk a nose at 
the pariaah and outcaste.

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