Misfit Destructionists
Born to slaughter falsities,
Are those branded nonconformists.
Or other maverick labels given,
To have many perceive them to be...
Misfit destructionists,
Methodically tearing down...
Concepts thought sound and solid.
Although cracks gone ignored,
Viewed upon those foundations once adored...
Have become too valued to renovate,
For fear an updating will expose what is faked.
To reveal carpenter ants have eaten through,
What was believed to accept as being concrete.
Instead of plywood used.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Related quotes
Maverick is a word which appeals to me more than misfit. Maverick is active, misfit is passive.
quote by Alan Rickman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Born to Do
All my life I've been told,
What I could and could not do.
As if these messages were directly delivered.
Just to test that maverick in me.
To see if I committed myself,
To the speaking of falsities.
I was born to do what I've been doing.
Although I have been interviewed,
To qualify myself to chase someone else's dollar.
And to have my multi-faceted cultural identity used.
You know,
As window dressing!
All my life I've been told,
What I could and could not do.
As if these messages were directly delivered.
Just to test that maverick in me.
To see if I committed myself,
To the speaking of falsities.
And I have never been one,
To fake the scope of my realities...
For the purpose to charade.
Or hide them behind drapes.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Generally, you are held to a sound and that becomes your sound. That gets branded as your sound, and all the copycats start with it because the labels are looking for that sound.
quote by Randy Bachman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pretending To Be Concerned
I use to be accused of making,
Some of the most outrageous comments.
With a cynical and sarcastic flair.
But today my statements are not as offensive,
As I would like others to perceive them to be.
No!
It seems my 'detected' embitterness,
Now is expressed openly by many.
Am I angered by this?
YES!
When I was thought to be a misfit maverick,
With nationalistic motives...
That allowed me to flaunt a daring to be different.
Today?
Everybody wants to be deemed as a disgruntled citizen.
And loudly voicing their disgust.
It seems as if when I did this,
I was quickly abandoned...
By those who chose to defend their pretentions.
And now...
They are pretending to be concerned.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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To See God
When i was born i believed in God
Then a woman taught me Santa Clause
Then the woman said there is
truth in the tooth fairy
Believe in fairy tales for
We wot not about God
When i was born i believed in God
Then a man taught me to fight
he said if you survive
Then there is no sin
And if you comply to men and women
Then men and women shall smile at you
As for God we wot not about Him
When i was born i believed in God
Then a coward said it is polite
To bow your head to money men woman
sex and earth and
If a womman gives birth (if)
Then teach the child
As we have you
i believed in not in God and
i thought it good to
Only believe in things i see
And i see
Men and woman falling
Cowards and earth dying
Trying to designate a god
That is willing to give
But not willing to take
i see all falling
But God is Lasting and
Forever though men and woman try
They cannot brake
God's Word is the only thing
That is not faked
poem by Deci Hernandez
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We All Could Use A Big Pinch
We all,
Have been accusative...
About 'something' perceive.
And...
We all,
Have been upset...
Over 'something' incorrect said,
But to others believed.
We all,
Have been 'there' in emotional need.
But choosing to be alone...
With those needs going unknown.
We all wish to be fed,
That which is in our hearts.
But expressed with hot heads.
We all want sometimes,
To be on someone else's mind.
Caring less...
They have their own desires to address.
And when that from them is confessed...
We then expose our centered selfishness.
Oh yes!
We all,
Have been accusative...
About 'something' perceive.
And...
We all,
Have been upset...
Over 'something' incorrect said,
But to others believed.
To leave...
Some with no choice but to voice,
Obscenities heard screaming...
To get that attention publicly!
We all could use a big pinch,
Of more common sense.
We all could use a big pinch,
Of more common sense.
We all could use a...
OUCH!
Why did you do that?
~I thought that was a request.
For a message you needed help to get!
We 'all' could use a big pinch,
Of more commone sense.
With a feeling that is believed...
To leave no one unconvinced! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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The Once Grassy Plain
Not electric
by this aged rock
solid against the waves
of the lake.
The smoke rises
above the city,
but I remain noncommital
breathing shallow, thoughtlessly
concentrating on the passion
of a recent lover
unknown to the hazy sunlight
in my eyes.
Fresh concrete poured
to fill in the spaces and cracks
that expose the surface
of being alone
on the once grassy plain.
poem by Gary Winkel
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Only A Few May Know How To Turn On The Lights
How can someone be responsible,
For creating new concepts...
And beginning fresh trends.
Without one word mentioned,
Giving credit to them.
How could entire industries exist.
Or unities of communities thrive successfully...
With good intentions.
If people who initiate these foundations,
Aren't given some attention!
'You know what is said about stolen ideas? '
~No.
No I don't.~
'Anyone can steal an idea.
But a valued thought process...
Is obvious in its progress.
Anyone can build a building.
But only a few may know how to turn on the lights!
And keep them on.'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Socially An Accepted Activity
Does it really make a difference,
If carpenter ants or termites...
Are responsbile for the effects,
Of a crumbling structure known?
Both can gnaw galleries,
In dead or decayed wood.
Termites are often pale colored,
And live in colonies.
Maybe because they are called white ants...
And the carpenter ones are black.
Perhaps that is the reason,
When they destroy with ultimate devastation...
It is socially an accepted activity,
Than 'if' their presence had been of color.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Re-Invent And Undo
Out from the woodwork they will come,
Like carpenter ants and termites to cut down...
Anything to upset and destruct,
With a plucking of nerves.
And venom striking tongues.
They are not readily noticed,
Until something unexpected...
They have heard validated,
Someone believed they did a doing done...
To have left their misdeeds trapping one in a web.
With a stinging that stung...
No one would survive to overcome.
Like carpenter ants and termites to cut down...
Anything to upset and destruct,
With a plucking of nerves.
And venom striking tongues.
Out from the woodwork they will come.
With a permanent stinging,
No one would survive to overcome....
To re-invent and undo with a renewed doing.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Popularity Bestowed
To declare someone or a thing done,
As popular...
Is a point of view.
Like a fad one embraces,
Until the taste of it is replaced...
By something else considered fresh,
And updated.
In some schools these 'labels' given,
Hold true too.
With a giving of attention...
To a uniqueness that is mentioned.
That others may attempt to replicate.
But when something is determined by some,
To become popular...
Others may perceive that a popularity bestowed,
May go to one's head to marinate to stay.
To carry around without sleep.
With a thought of this believed.
To be accepted as received.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Dragged Behind Them In Sacks
It is difficult to accept,
A restructuring of beliefs.
Especially when those beliefs,
Were thought to be cemented...
In concrete.
But the crumbling of foundations,
As seen are no longer rumored.
And the ones once reprimanded,
By pointing out their observations...
Seem not to be the ones running,
Seeking to find safe shelter...
To protect their pretentions.
Or denials dragged behind them in sacks,
As kept evidence of their loyalty and devotion.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Those Most In Need of Empathy
People do make choices!
And those upset with regret...
By the decisions they have made.
With direct accusations,
To others...
For not clearing a path,
With cracks unpaved.
Are the ones unaccustomed,
To being held accountable.
They seek exits to escape...
From responsibilities they have faked!
Creating more difficulties for themselves.
Fault finders they become!
And nothing else.
With hopes they are seen,
As victims of low self esteem.
And this too often has been their gloated motive...
To keep themselves viewed,
As those most in need of empathy!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Shocking Are Some Scenes Seen
So shocking are some scenes seen,
Downtown
Where the people there will congregate,
As if auditioning
The latest of less wearing,
To expose their 'goods'
With a caring that is obviously,
A wish to expose just about everything.
So shocking are some scenes seen,
Downtown.
Where not only jaws drop!
But eyes too can be viewed to pop.
One has to be there to witness this.
To see what can not be for most to believed.
And yesterday what is exposed today,
Would promptly be a reason
For the calling of police,
And sirens heard to flood the streets
To arrest those for their nakedness
AND a disturbing of the peace
But
So shocking are some scenes seen,
Downtown and all around
Where the people there and everywhere,
Will congregate
As if auditioning,
The latest of less wearing of anything.
To expose their 'goods',
With a caring that is obviously,
A wish to expose just about everything.
And many become offended,
If an attention given is 'not' mentioned.
'Excuse me.
Can you tell me what that 'use' to be?
Whatever that is you are barely wearing'
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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We 'Was' But Aint No 'Mo
What is your point?
I've already revealed,
Where my priorities are.
It is no secret.
You sought to be convinced.
And nothing done I could do,
Would prevent your determination.
You wanted me to choose.
I did.
You believed you were giving me a choice,
To make.
And I was then finding for you the time.
Valued not faked!
Now for you,
I am not finding time...
Or patience for explanations.
We 'was' but aint no 'mo!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Little Miss Fit
Theres a good theres a bad
Some are gay, some are sad
Theres a right, theres a wrong
Those who fit dont belong
Well Im the bad
And Ive got to admit
That Im sad
Im a little misfit
Im in the wrong
And thats the truth of it
I dont belong
Im a little misfit
Theres the sun theres the rain
Those in love those in pain
Some succeed while others fail
Some will ease someone tells
Well Im in the rain
And Ive got to admit
That I gonna pay
Im a little misfit
Though Ive failed
Thats the truth of it
See me tell
Im a little misfit
Lifes so hard when youre far from everything
Lifes so cold when you know you have no friends
Well Ive lost
And Ive got to admit
That Ive paid the cost
Im a little misfit
I still grow
And thats the truth of it
Ill always fall
Im a little misfit
Well Im bad
And Ive got to admit
That Im sad
Im a little misfit
Well Im bad
And thats the truth of it
That makes me sad
Im a little misfit
Well Im lost
And Ive got to admit
That Ive paid the cost
Im a little misfit
Im so poor
song performed by by Donna Summer
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Self-Mocking
Whenever I self mock
over a compliment I have been given
it is not to insult the person who gave it,
more to injure myself.
I can cope with most things
that are given to me except compliments.
Sound Strange?
When I was growing up many years ago,
I was belittled by family and friends alike.
They made me feel like a misfit,
so a misfit I became.
I endured insults about me
in every way shape and form.
Compliments were never given
and became a stranger to me.
Now that I am older,
I do not stand easy
when compliments are given
and I have to mock myself
and make a parody out of me.
I grew up feeling useless in everything I did.
They did not realise what they were doing
and hurting that they caused. I
t was not jokes they threw at me,
but hurting insults that made me feel insecure.
Now when compliments come
I cannot accept them readily.
I cannot accept that anyone
would want to compliment me,
so I self mock myself you see.
10 November 2008
poem by David Harris
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Where Has That Quality Of Life Gone Today?
Those that grow old but not 'up',
Live lives in recycled patterns.
A process that benefits routine...
Within set limitations,
That have come to demean common sense.
Those living to break away from those 'molds',
Had been referred to as nonconformists at one time.
Now the 'mavericks' have replaced them,
With no concern for the quality of life.
And when nonconformists were shunned...
They sought a better way of life for everyone.
And many attempted to do this,
Without the purchasing and selling...
Of illegal weapons such as guns.
And where has that quality of life gone today?
To the pleading of the needs of those greedy...
Who have left that quality of life stray,
Into corrupted decay.
With other 'necessities' politically and religiously valued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Some Thing New
Everyday we are blessed to live,
There is...
Some 'thing' new.
Something we hadn't thought,
Would be interesting enough to do.
But if we,
Choose that some 'thing' viewed...
As a pick up to keep us lifted.
While pursuing that some 'thing' viewed,
Our minds will broaden to accept and receive.
Everyday,
There is...
Some thing new.
There is...
Something we hadn't thought,
But could find...
Interesting enough to do.
And if we thought about that yesterday,
When we refused...
The experience.
And dismissed it as a foolish event,
We might have discovered,
Just how much we grew.
Everyday we are blessed to live,
There is...
Some 'thing' new.
Something we hadn't thought,
Would be interesting enough to do.
But if we,
Choose that some 'thing' viewed...
As a pick up to keep us lifted.
While pursuing that some 'thing' viewed,
Our minds will broaden to accept and receive.
And if we thought about that yesterday,
When we refused...
The experience.
And dismissed it as a foolish event,
We might have discovered,
Just how much we grew.
But if we,
Choose that some 'thing' viewed...
As a pick up to keep us lifted.
And make that the rule that is meant...
Much joy will come to me and you.
And if we,
Choose that some thing viewed...
As a pick up to keep us lifted,
Much joy...
Will come to me and you.
Much joy...
Would be what it is we pursued.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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How Is a Protection Done?
How is a protection done,
When what is being defended
Is attired is confusing beliefs...
Fostering fear
And nurtured by games,
Aimed with precision to spot enemies!
Disguised terrains depicted,
In high glossed technicolor...
Once clearly evolved from black and white
Images!
Assisted by graphs and lifestyles twisted!
Toy guns gifted with radar...
To lift and expose foes from where they are!
Even at night when surprise attacks,
Uncover those sleeping.
Unprepared to be blown from sacks.
Some without shacks to call home!
How is a protection done...
When a false existence,
Creates distance
And a persistence of determined rivalries.
On shores where ancient histories,
Are stripped of truth
To allow the inciting of troops to boost,
Ideals failing!
How is a protection done...
When the source of these conflicts
Ails with a mental disease! ?
Very few perceive this that way!
How is a protection done successfully...
With expectations to overcome,
With a peace understood?
When the very air we breathe,
Continues to pollute concepts believed!
How is a protection done,
When everyone is taught deception...
And defeat of humanity!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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