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And then the first was The Misfits, which I enjoyed very much, with Marilyn and Gable.

quote by Eli Wallach
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A New Marilyn

Got one now with a catholic name
A little less righteous she aint quite the same
Walkin the streets under the media moon
Silvery screen paints her sultry tune
She wears her lipstick outside of the lines
Picture on the cover of the new york times
The mole on her cheek looks like her very own
She lives and breathes in a new marilyn home
Chorus
A new marilyn a new marilyn
Everybodys lookin for a new marilyn
Everywhere I go everywhere I been
Everybodys lookin for a new marilyn
Where would she be after twenty five years
What would she think if she were to hear
Everywhere you look theres somebody new
Trying to replace you trying to replace you marilyn
Chorus
A new marilyn a new marilyn
Everybodys lookin for a new you know who
Everywhere I go everywhere I been
Everybodys lookin for a new marilyn
A new marilyn a new marilyn
Everybodys lookin for a new you know who
Everywhere I go everywhere I been
Everybodys lookin for a new marilyn
Isnt this a great party
Chorus
A new marilyn a new marilyn
Everybodys lookin for a new you know who
Everywhere I go everywhere I been
Everybodys lookin for a new marilyn

song performed by Vonda Shepard
Added by Lucian Velea
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Happening 1961

Greenfield said
where you from?

London you replied
I don’t like Londoners

he said as a bee
buzzed in the greenhouse

where the rural science teacher
Gable had sent you.

Greenfield pushed you
against the potting bench

and you pushed him
against begonia plants

which fell to the floor
and he punched

your arm
and you punched

his jaw
and he grabbed you

around the waist
and you both

fell to the floor.
You smelt his sweat

and saw blood
drip from his lips.

Get up you gits
another boy said

Old Gable’s coming
and so you pulled

Greenfield up
by the hand

and he brushed off
your school jacket

and you pushed
your fingers

[...] Read more

poem by Terry Collett
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Misfits

Hey bro props at the after show
Can you tell me where the greenbuds grows?
Id like to say you turned my life around
I lost myself outside again
With the sound running through my head
Drowned out way out in the crowd
and the crowd goes singing
My people are the misfits
The ones that don't fit in
With the smile I know it comes within
I can feel you in the corners laughing when the lightings low
They say
Tick tick. tell me where the time goes
Oh life, you know it moves much to slow
Tick tick tell me where the time goes
Those are the ones for me
Those are the ones for me
The misfits, the freaks, the enemy, you and me
Those are the ones for me
Those are the ones for me
The misfits, the freaks, the enemy, you and me
My people are the misfits
I wont let you down
Im dizzy from whatever we just passed around
I bleed for the moments when were here
And were all around

song performed by Third Eye Blind
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Opposite Begins

When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.

People known to create conflict,
Seek an attention they don't get...
Until,
The opposite begins.
Opposition steps in.

They pretend a trust to believe,
To have others perceive but...
The opposite begins,
For them.

Wake up and take notice,
That the opposite begins for them.
Those who charade innocence.
The opposite begins for them.
Those masking evil intent.
The opposite begins for them.

When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one agitated,
Finds an exit and splits.
But then,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.

That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,
When someone genuine comes in...
To view.

When one has had it,
With a havoc that misfits...
Well,
The opposite begins.
The opposite begins.
And...
That one who's had it,
Splits and runs into love...
To know the opposite begins,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Medicated Head

It seems more than not,
That something blown out of the box...
Starts over nothing.
To leave one's peace disrupted.
And people deciding that conflicts fit,
With an advantage that provides benefits.

Can a life be lived enjoyed,
With a medicated head that's ripped.
Can a life be lived enjoyed,
Pretending none of this exists.
Can a life be lived enjoyed,
Drifting high and strickly blissed...
With,
A medicated head instead.
And...
Playing possum as if dead.

Can a life be lived enjoyed,
With a medicated head instead.
Can one's life be lived enjoyed...
Playing possum as if one's dead.

Ripped and blissed...
Can a medicated head stay fed.
To be,
Ripped and blissed...
Will a medicated head wish no repair.

It seems more than not,
That something blown out of the box...
Starts over nothing.
To leave one's peace disrupted.
And people deciding that conflicts fit,
With an advantage that provides benefits.

Can a life be lived enjoyed,
With a medicated head that's ripped.
Can a life be lived enjoyed,
Pretending none of this exists.
To be,
Ripped and blissed...
Will a medicated head really care.
To be,
Ripped up and blissed...
Will a medicated head prefer to stay there.

Ripped up and blissed!
To be...
Ripped and blissed!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Leopards at Knole

Leopards on the gable-ends,
Leopards on the painted stair,
Stiff the blazoned shield they bear,
Or and gules, a bend of vair,
Leopards on the gable-ends,
Leopards everywhere.

Guard and vigil in the night
While the ancient house is sleeping
They three hundred years are keeping,
Nightly from their stations leaping,
Shadows black in moonlight bright,
Roof to gable creeping.

Rigid when the day returns,
Up aloft in sun or rain
Leopards at their posts again
Watch the shifting pageant's train;
And their jewelled colour burns
In the window-pane.

Often on the painted stair,
As I passed abstractedly,
Velvet footsteps, two and three,
Padded gravely after me.
- There was nothing, nothing there,
Nothing there to see.

poem by Victoria Sackville-West
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Cuddly Toy

La la la la ...
Youre not only cuddly toy that was ever enjoyed by any boy
Youre not the only choo-choo train that was left out in the rain
The day after santa came
Youre not the only cherry delight that was left out in the night
And gave up without a fight
Yourre not the only cuddly toy that was ever enjoyed by any boy
Youre not the kind of girl to tell your mother
The kind of company you keep
I never told you not to love no other
You must of dreamed it in your sleep
Youre not only cuddly toy that was ever enjoyed by any boy
Youre not the only choo-choo train that was left out in the rain
The day after santa came
Youre not the only cherry delight that was left out in the night
And gave up without a fight
Yourre not the only cuddly toy that was ever enjoyed by any boy
Youre not the kind of girl to tell your mother
The kind of company you keep
I never told you not to love no other
You must of dreamed it in your sleep
Youre not only cuddly toy that was ever enjoyed by any boy
Youre not the only choo-choo train that was left out in the rain
The day after santa came
Youre not the only cherry delight that was left out in the night
And gave up without a fight
Yourre not the only cuddly toy that was ever enjoyed by any boy
La la la la ...

song performed by Monkees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Slop They Dropped

Move from a tainting of a game maintained,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
With a mopping up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.

To mop up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.

Move from a tainting of a game maintained,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
With a mopping up slop that's enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Will be theirs nonstop.

Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
With a hoping that in time they will be erased.
And unhappiness appearing on faces now chased.
Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.

Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.

Those who mopped up slop they enjoyed alot.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.

Sticky fingerprints all over the place.
With a hoping that in time they will be erased.
But the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.

It's too late to move from a tainting game,
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
'Cause the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.

It's too late to move from a tainting game
To have people painted to sustain a gain.
'Cause the cleaning of it up,
Is now theirs nonstop.

Tainting people's names to sustain a gain,
Has other people mopping up the slop they dropped.
Tainting people's names to sustain a gain,
Has other people mopping up the slop they dropped.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Thinking I Was There to be The Only One!

She enjoyed her men packed.
He enjoyed his women stacked...
And full of chested love,
Kept bared

But they were not demonstrative.
And no one ever strayed...
To betray what they had together.
Who gave what and why is the question.
And who learned what lesson from this?

'You all are being too delusional'.

She enjoyed her men packed.
He enjoyed his women stacked...
And full of chested love,
Kept bared.

Preferences and prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
With references preferred,
And none to spare.
Mixed with preferences that are dated and timed.
These are new visions on the horizon,
Of my sunset?
And I'm a one on one kind!
With prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
And I'm thinking her kiss is for us.
When she has him and me on her mind...
For lust!
At the same time?

'Poppa don't arch his back for that! '

Preferences and prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
With references preferred,
And none to spare.
And I'm thinking her kiss is for us.
When she has him and me on her mind...
For lust!

Preferences and prerequisites.
Sitting on a desk somewhere,
Collecting dust.
With references preferred,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Misfits aren't misfits among other misfits.

quote by Barry Manilow
Added by Lucian Velea
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To the Film Industry in Crisis

Not you, lean quarterlies and swarthy periodicals
with your studious incursions toward the pomposity of ants,
nor you, experimental theatre in which Emotive Fruition
is wedding Poetic Insight perpetually, nor you,
promenading Grand Opera, obvious as an ear (though you
are close to my heart), but you, Motion Picture Industry,
it's you I love!

In times of crisis, we must all decide again and again whom we love.
And give credit where it's due: not to my starched nurse, who taught me
how to be bad and not bad rather than good (and has lately availed
herself of this information), not to the Catholic Church
which is at best an oversolemn introduction to cosmic entertainment,
not to the American Legion, which hates everybody, but to you,
glorious Silver Screen, tragic Technicolor, amorous Cinemascope,
stretching Vistavision and startling Stereophonic Sound, with all
your heavenly dimensions and reverberations and iconoclasms! To
Richard Barthelmess as the 'tol'able' boy barefoot and in pants,
Jeanette MacDonald of the flaming hair and lips and long, long neck,
Sue Carroll as she sits for eternity on the damaged fender of a car
and smiles, Ginger Rogers with her pageboy bob like a sausage
on her shuffling shoulders, peach-melba-voiced Fred Astaire of the feet,
Eric von Stroheim, the seducer of mountain-climbers' gasping spouses,
the Tarzans, each and every one of you (I cannot bring myself to prefer
Johnny Weissmuller to Lex Barker, I cannot!), Mae West in a furry sled,
her bordello radiance and bland remarks, Rudolph Valentino of the moon,
its crushing passions, and moonlike, too, the gentle Norma Shearer,
Miriam Hopkins dropping her champagne glass off Joel McCrea's yacht,
and crying into the dappled sea, Clark Gable rescuing Gene Tierney
from Russia and Allan Jones rescuing Kitty Carlisle from Harpo Marx,
Cornel Wilde coughing blood on the piano keys while Merle Oberon berates,
Marilyn Monroe in her little spike heels reeling through Niagara Falls,
Joseph Cotten puzzling and Orson Welles puzzled and Dolores del Rio
eating orchids for lunch and breaking mirrors, Gloria Swanson reclining,
and Jean Harlow reclining and wiggling, and Alice Faye reclining
and wiggling and singing, Myrna Loy being calm and wise, William Powell
in his stunning urbanity, Elizabeth Taylor blossoming, yes, to you
and to all you others, the great, the near-great, the featured, the extras
who pass quickly and return in dreams saying your one or two lines,
my love!
Long may you illumine space with your marvellous appearances, delays
and enunciations, and may the money of the world glitteringly cover you
as you rest after a long day under the kleig lights with your faces
in packs for our edification, the way the clouds come often at night
but the heavens operate on the star system. It is a divine precedent
you perpetuate! Roll on, reels of celluloid, as the great earth rolls on!

poem by Frank O'Hara
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Adam: A Sacred Drama. Act 2.

SCENE I. -- CHORUS OF ANGELS Singing.

Now let us garlands weave
Of all the fairest flowers,
Now at this early dawn,
For new-made man, and his companion dear;
Let all with festive joy,
And with melodious song,
Of the great Architect
Applaud this noblest work,
And speak the joyous sound,
Man is the wonder both of Earth and Heaven.

FIRST Angel.

Your warbling now suspend,
You pure angelic progeny of God,
Behold the labour emulous of Heaven!
Behold the woody scene,
Decked with a thousand flowers of grace divine;
Here man resides, here ought he to enjoy
In his fair mate eternity of bliss.

SECOND Angel.

How exquisitely sweet
This rich display of flowers,
This airy wild of fragrance,
So lovely to the eye,
And to the sense so sweet.

THIRD Angel.

O the sublime Creator,
How marvellous his works, and more his power!
Such is the sacred flame
Of his celestial love,
Not able to confine it in himself,
He breathed, as fruitful sparks
From his creative breast,
The Angels, Heaven, Man, Woman, and the World.

FOURTH Angel.

Yes, mighty Lord! yes, hallowed love divine!
Who, ever in thyself completely blest,
Unconscious of a want,
Who from thyself alone, and at thy will,
Bright with beignant flames,
Without the aid of matter or of form,

[...] Read more

poem by William Cowper
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The Misfits pretty much funds the Misfits. It used to cost me money to be in the band. I think we got paid the last gig we ever did. After that, we had to work to support our families.

quote by Jerry Only
Added by Lucian Velea
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In a Boast Stayed Boosted

Consumed,
With a self hatred.
And makes more room....
For a mind to sit,
Assuming doom.

Consumed,
With a self hatred.
And makes more room....
For a mind to sit,
Assuming doom.

Eyes on demise!
With fire and brimstone in their sights.
And tantillized by cries of crisis.
To observe with a wish not to grow from it.
That validates misfits witnessed!

Consumed,
With a self hatred.
And makes more room....
For a mind to sit,
Assuming doom.

Consumed,
With a self hatred.
And makes more room....
For a mind to sit,
Assuming doom.

Proud,
To be among those rowdy!
Those who show no benefit,
That comes to those who stir conflict.

And gloom is a boast stayed boosted.
That feeds upon such limitness,
Of those who love it on their minds and lips.
And...
Consumed,
With a self hatred.
To observe with a wish not to grow from it.
That validates misfits witnessed!

And proud,
To be among those rowdy!
Those who show no benefit,
That comes to those who stir conflict.
And proud,
To be among those rowdy!

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Nouveau Loose of Caboose and Off Track

Unmistakable truths,
Are cropping up like pop tarts...
To munch on like a snack,
These days.

Wisecracking 'misfits',
Are more than welcomed...
To join in with the foray.
Displayed on any corner in view.

It seems as if a major shift in consciousness,
Has upon us arrived.
And people are scambling to identify,
With something tangible that is recognizable.
Like...
Those various versions of normalcy,
And...
The rarely used common sense.

Unmistakable truths,
Are cropping up like pop tarts...
To munch on like a snack,
These days.

Wisecracking 'misfits',
Are more than welcomed...
To join in with the foray.
Displayed on any corner in view.

And the nouveau riche,
Find themselves joining forces with those poor.
Since all are welcomed through these doors...
These days.
And in these times we live.

It seems as if a major shift in consciousness,
Has upon us arrived.
And people are scambling to identify,
With something tangible that is recognizable.
These days.

Like the absence of delicious gossip.
You know...?
The kind that baits magnetic ears,
Closer to listen!

We 'must' christen these days,
And the people crazed in dazed amazement:
Nouveau Loose of Caboose and Off Track!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Now Since Everyone Is Being Force to Pay

All the damage that has been done,
They did to themselves.
And all the warnings that came to them,
Whether told or shown...
Were ignored.
And this...
Was known.

Everyone who spoke against their misdeeds,
Were setup to appear to be misfits, fools...
And those no one should listen to,
Because they were crazy.

And now since everyone is being force to pay,
For 'mistakes' made...
Those misfits and fools and those crazy too,
Are apparently the ones...
Who have successfully devastated the life of everyone,
By their feeding of greed selfishly.
And today wish not to repay for a hole they dug deep.
To claim what they did to others is everyone's responsibility.

And they are completely out of their minds,
If they believe what they have done...
Can be blamed on someone else.
They created...
With eyes wide open,
Their dead end!

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Obstructionists! Unphased

Obstructionists!
Unphased.
Mentally sick...
Delusionists.
With selected memories.
Unphased to do just what they please.

Like water rolling off a duck's back...
They love to hear themselves quack.

Obstructionists!
Unphased.
And mentally sick...
Delusionists.
With selected memories.
Unphased to do just what they please...
And crazed.

With minds like loose bananas,
If front of cameras frailing...
Their weaknesses like misfits!
Demented and ballistic.

With minds like loose bananas,
If front of cameras frailing...
Their weaknesses like misfits!
Demented and ballistic.

Like water rolling off a duck's back...
They love to hear themselves quack.

Obstructionists!
Unphased.
And mentally sick...
Delusionists.
With selected memories.
Unphased to do just what they please...
And crazed.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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One World We've Been Given

Oh no I just can't sit,
Without noticing it...
That division isn't hiding,
To disguise from eyes.

One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.

So many seem committed to being misfits.
As we all forget...
Our lives here are limited.
So many seem committed to begin conflicts.
As we all forget...
No one lives without a gift.
As we all forget...
Destroying it no one exists.
As we all forget,
There is a risk of losing this...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.

Oh no I just can't sit,
Without noticing it...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.

And that division isn't hiding,
To disguise from eyes.
But just one world we've been given.
And on it we sit.

So many seem committed to being misfits.
As we all forget...
Our lives here are limited.
So many seem committed to begin conflicts.
As we all forget...
No one lives without a gift.
As we all forget...
Destroying it no one exists.
As we all forget,
There is a risk of losing this...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.

As we all forget,
There is a risk of losing this...
One world we've been given.
On one world we're all living.

As we all forget,

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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So Suitable Has The Outrageous Become

Is it befitting that the ridiculous,
Now
Is a way of life?
So suitable has the outrageous become,
That those seeking to shoot from the hip
With a telling it like it is,
With a voicing of it.
Are the ones today,
Finding themselves censored.
To allow the rise for the marketing of misfits.

And it was not long ago,
Those who were declared militants
With nationalistic wishes,
Were more patriotic
Than those elected to represent their contituents.
While those who promote decadence,
Have the bucks to demand
How much of the sleaze on the streets show.

Is it befitting that the ridiculous,
Now
Is a way of life?
So suitable has the outrageous become,
That those seeking to shoot from the hip
With a telling it like it is,
With a voicing of it.
Are the ones today,
Finding themselves censored.
To allow the rise for the marketing of misfits.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Whatever It Takes To Participate

Fed to greed.
That's it.
Not to solicit with a consciousness,
To correct with a higher learning...
A resolving of any conflicts that today exists!

Fed to self indulge.
Spend and waste.
Whatever it takes,
To participate.

And the later time gets,
To correct what misfits...
Minds will find they are addicted,
To whatever it is that keeps them unfit.

Fed to greed.
That's it.
Not to solicit with a consciousness,
To correct with a higher learning...
A resolving of any conflicts that today exists!

And the later time gets,
To correct what misfits...
Minds will find they are addicted,
To whatever it is that keeps them unfit.

Fed to self indulge.
Spend and waste.
Whatever it takes,
To participate.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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