Jon Pear (a.k.a. NeuroAster)

Posts Tagged ‘life’

cyclojunct

In schmategory on November 17, 2008 at 8:36 am

Lift the world’s weight, drag it away, and thrust it over the edge

You do not need pressure from snobs who make assumptions and judge

Monday’s warm, soft quicksand of bed has tried to swallow you whole

Loud alarm clock blared, and you struggled up and answered its call

Take a few bites; brush your teeth and shower; get dressed

Rush and get stuck deep in morning traffic’s long wait

This routine keeps minds distracted, keeps our souls dead

Deaf-and-blind, pale zombies march to serve a numb god

Dare to leave the dirge of the forsaken

Sneak away; remember to be human

Dare to question everybody’s answer

Dare to probe the failure to discover

Dare to learn the secrets forgotten by strangers, friends and enemies

Dare to teach the secrets that everyone else has found mysterious

Dare to journey forth on a path that is barely even legible

Dare to journey forth on your own, and be barely even tangible

Someone is on the planet Earth loving you now, obscured by the a distance none can cross

Suicide is the only real failure, and inner-peace is the only real success

Tenderness and perspective keep life in the light, the ideobalm that cleanses fear

Touch me with a reminder, reach deep as you dare, and handle the cryptic self in here

Dare to reach deep into the murky septic-tank of the heart

Dare to find thick burdens of solid lead that  sicken and hurt

Take the red pill; dare to begin the ontological search

Lift the world’s weight, drag it away, and thrust it over the edge

another TGIF poem

In Uncategorized on October 23, 2008 at 9:21 pm

There is no way to know how long you will wait; thanks for your patience

We are just human; we are pawns of a boss, part of a process

We have kids; we have spouses; there shall be food, clothing, and shelter

We are all sleep-deprived and racing the clock, dealing with pressure

After we have served you, have a nice life

Nobody is here to cause the world grief

Read the large text that’s posted up on the wall; didn’t you notice?

There is no way to know how long you will wait; thanks for your patience

this poem is a kick in the 66

In schmategory on October 14, 2008 at 6:30 am

Stare for a moment, shrug, ignore, and forget

Purchase your fries and burgers; rest and exist

Follow the Monday-morning oozing routine

Cog in the big machine of agony’s groan

Sacred rubies-of-information fall in the ideodumpster of boredom

Briefly stare at a text, and then ignore and forget it; conform in a system

Macaroni and cheese is on a plate on a table with pencil and paper

There are people who know and care that I’m a survivor who tries to recover

Any voice in any wilderness can become another’s voice

Life’s quintessential moments dissolve a sense of dark loss

Set in the west, and take a deep breath before you go to your grave

Breathe deep; an open window has always been a real salve

Love the air, each and every molecule

All the sane minds are closed and cynical

I’m a text-whore for all the literate

Read me now; tell me I’m articulate

All that is left is some posterity’s hope

Go and believe that urgent-vision is hype

Follow the script that broken-spirits accept

Stare for a moment, shrug, ignore, and forget

subprime foreclosure

In alpha on October 7, 2008 at 9:20 pm

Call the state of the heart a quote “negative attitude” unquote

Thanks for saying that smiles are good; thanks for explaining the concept

Be the salt in the spirit’s wounds, cluelessly sheltered, and perfect

Call the state of the heart a quote “ negative attitude” unquote

Pencils and paper are friends without shoulders to cry on

Open, accepting, without advice, mindsets, or caution

Maybe the courage to write can survive the failures to answer every reader’s questions

Maybe the courage to write can survive, in spite of the inner-critic’s growth on steroids

Keep your distance, and have your own fun

Don’t expect me to watch or join in

Turn your back if I make your skin crawl

Kick a football, or shop at some mall

Make sense to hundreds of people; only confuse a few

Whole demographics will never learn what is real or true

Every bite, breath, and step you take for granted must be nice

You’re a team-player, saved by charm and cronies, not by grace

Drive your vehicle through Monday’s hectic traffic

Be an icon of pure photogenic magic

Call the state of the heart quote “depressing” unquote

Call the state of the heart a quote “negative attitude” unquote

soul’s autumn

In schmategory on September 28, 2008 at 7:52 pm

Cloudy and overcast, with browning and oranging leaves

Wearing a jacket, in the chill of the Winnipeg breeze

Walking and breathing, on a day when the summer has died

Knowing that snowflakes from the sky shall arrive and descend

Stars, raindrops, leaves, and snowflakes fall

Time’s Chronojectile passes all

Autumn is coolness of perspective, serenity, peace

Cloudy and overcast, with browning and oranging leaves

This poem can has PharmaBurger or whatever

In Uncategorized on September 1, 2008 at 8:51 am

Silent, cold, and empty, kiosks and vestibules remain silent, cold, and empty

Left behind, when meritocracy promises a free, equal realm of plenty

Freedom without wisdom is just a random walk on the dark side of boredom

Right here, right now, the dirge of servants has died, and become a doldrum

Give the confused a thinking-place, out of the way of narrow minds on the move

Enemies, friends, and strangers live life on the wedge’s edge ahead of the curve

Targets and gods are dollar-bills, wallets, and coins, and all commodities rot

Sweating, collapsing, drained of all energy now, whatever happens is right

This is a poem, you dumbass, now you live and die to make sense

This is a poem, you dumbass, all you fail to love is your loss

This is a poem, you dumbass, go away, and have a nice trip

This is a poem, you dumbass, all the shxt you fxxk is knee-deep

Citizens face another day to rise, rush, and circulate

Citizens face the stress that makes the mind hyperventilate

Citizens face another test of true durability

Citizens face another waste of life’s time and energy

Questions and answers are prescribed, handed down, and final

Everything matters when you watch ghettoes crack and crumble

Eyes of the dreamers can perceive gilded lilies clearly

Kiosks and vestibules remain silent, cold, and empty

thalidomide

In Uncategorized on August 13, 2008 at 5:49 am

Open my skull and stir-fry my brain and see if I care

Open my skull and stir-fry my brain and call it a cure

Open my skull and stir-fry my brain if it makes you happy

Open my skull and make changes, making me not-as-scary

Misunderstandings, hindsight, and apologies

Now until death, authorities are enemies

All of your inconvenience is disposable

Call me a brat, a robot, or an animal

What if every breath you took ruined someone else’s life?

What if every breath you took filled a thousand hearts with grief?

What if you were punished so hard for every breath you took,

You endured the impact each day of life, without a break?

“Limousine Jonathan” is all gone

Far from the property you now own

Serve your employers, and be well paid

Dream of utopia, and feel good

All of the dollar-bills and coins you touch are lifeless and cold

Enemies, friends, and strangers are vermin, crawling low in your world

All you observe is just a bland, vanilla, sedative bore

Open my skull and stir-fry my brain and see if I care

isohell

In Uncategorized on August 4, 2008 at 10:17 am

Dollar-bills and coins enter and leave the wallets of enemies and friends

Mornings, afternoons, evenings, and weekends fill with reminders of your dreams

Demographics enjoy comforts that you are failing to endure

Now you wait for a last chance to remain as innocent and pure

Kings, queens, bishops, rooks, knights, and pawns rule the face of the Earth

Feet march, left and right, race against time, forgetting to breathe

Now you wait for more lessons in sharing everyone’s frivolous concerns

Dollar-bills and coins enter and leave the wallets of enemies and friends

Groggy and half-awake on a Monday morning

In schmategory on July 28, 2008 at 2:42 pm

Once upon a duration of chronological time

Monday mornings were tangible, ripe salvation from shame

Interpersonal dialogue bubbled under the sun

Now we live in an age when the Eaton’s Building is gone

Queen Street died in the birth of Portage Avenue

Fast change happens, and life becomes a vertigo

Real truth never conforms to any weltanschauung

No one paradigm ever covers everything

Bite the fruit of a tree; enjoy a full meal

Break the ovary wall, and let the seeds fall

Stand where others have stood before your own birth

Stand where others may stand beyond your own death

Leaves and snowflakes fall, as the dollar-bills and coins enter and leave our wallets

These are days when elders are left in homes, and some citizens vote on ballots

Early, late, and punctual people rise and rush into the morning traffic

Early, late, and punctual people rise and rush into the morning panic

Ghost of Timothy Eaton, avenge the landmark we tore

Haunt the “Centre” we built, and create a horrible scare

We were innocent once, and we had the freedom to dream

Once upon a duration of chronological time

THE WEATHER REPORT

In Uncategorized on July 21, 2008 at 4:28 pm

Winnipeg’s heat in July and August bakes and bathes your face in your salty sweat

Sandals and shorts and our anti-sunburn-ointments, getting scorched in the rays can hurt

Days when the hornets and wasps and bees are droning, cursed Al-Qaeda of insect-life

Days when our toes and our heels go naked out on sand; we splash in the tides and laugh

Lemonade, ice-cream, and popsicles

Buildings with blessed air-conditioners

Lawns and mosquitoes enjoy the drenching rain, and humans notice the stars at night

Winnipeg’s heat in July and August bakes and bathes your face in your salty sweat

CAUTION: This update may NOT put readers in a good mood

In Uncategorized on July 14, 2008 at 5:26 pm

After I took out the garbage, washed the dishes, and puked

Resting in bed was a healing-time, to pause and reflect

What are the blossoming-spirit’s needs we tend to ignore?

What are the pleasures that nurture more than surface-desire?

Mildew, bacteria, and humans live on the planet Earth

Speech is an auditory-vomit out of the human-mouth

So I reclined, and I pondered; then, I finally slept

After I took out the garbage, washed the dishes, and puked

We’ve had better weekends

In Uncategorized on June 30, 2008 at 5:00 pm

I am gay, and my spouse’s parents are homophobic

Genealogy’s ties are ruthlessly strict and toxic

How the bullying tears and screams of my spouse’s parents

Make our landlord appear as tame as our fellow tenants

We, the sick human species, prey upon our own

Then, we chit-chat about our “righteousness” and “sin”

Go believe that the world is changing, as if by magic

I am gay, and my spouse’s parents are homophobic

Another visit with Grandma Dolly

In Uncategorized on June 23, 2008 at 5:52 pm

Grandmother laughed when I asked if she ever feels like she’s in a science-fiction story

“Ringtones” of portable-telephones, out-of-context, foreign, abrupt, confusing, scary

Modern-technology changes at bullet-speed; you blink, and you’re out-of-touch and clueless

Clueless, forgotten, and dizzy, unless you’re always making the latest trendy purchase

Grandmother laughed, shrugged, and said: “I guess. Oh well.”

Grandmother smiled cool, and let the world prevail

Now, she’s retired and serene, in a realm of screens with alphanumeric-data-frenzy

Grandmother laughed when I asked if she ever feels like she’s in a science-fiction story

Namaste

In alpha on June 17, 2008 at 12:02 pm

Tumbleweeds and roses love and accept random, wild, real life

Intimate surrender, yes to the wind, peace without hurt grief

Solitude can kiss the truth of your pure self with soft, still calm

Tension can be soothed away in your deep core with life’s first balm

Take time; give it time; these are the days of meritocracy

Rushed stress makes it much harder to find the soul’s tranquility

Brute arms lock you snug; fingers and palms caress with tenderness

Feel safe; close your eyes; blissfully sigh; enjoy the universe

Someone does care if you freeze, melt, or boil

Someone does care if you sink, rise, or fall

Someone does care if you sleep, live, or die

Someone does care how you are every day

Your mission, should you choose to accept it:

Make peace with interpersonal conflict

Make peace with Proud Humanity’s nature

Make peace with each adventurous danger

Reach stars without bowing down to the enemies of friends

Touch hearts without bowing down to authorities and crowns

These days, when strict meritocracy’s deadlines are precise

These days can kill souls with schedules and failures to rejoice

Notice how bubbles and feathers can spread out across fun air

That is how we, as humans, can soar, freed from each clock’s glare

Lilies of the field can silently clear any mind’s thick strife

Tumbleweeds and roses love and accept random, wild, real life

Roses and violets lynch the moon

In schmategory on June 3, 2008 at 9:18 am

Radioactive, toxic, volatile, flammable, explosive

Powerful witchcraft lurks around us, potentially destructive

Just when you thought the world was safe for a casual existence

Seeds of apocalyptic nightmares contaminate the surface

How do you blossom when the whole globe is hand-made, plan-based?

Live a synthetically contrived life on slick, pale, dead land

Locked in containment-fields where tensions and grudges are abrasive

Radioactive, toxic, volatile, flammable, explosive

I’m in a good mood today :)

In schmategory on May 28, 2008 at 6:24 pm

Colors and shapes of oranges and grapes

Dream of a rainbow, dream of an eclipse

Bitters and sweets are melting in your mouth

Gaze at a bold aurora in the north

Junction of the Red and Assiniboine Rivers

Canopy of stars over snuggles and kisses

Open your voice in melody and praise

Open your eyes; delight in the displays

Colors and shapes of oranges and grapes

depolarizing mix

In alpha on May 19, 2008 at 5:10 pm

Feet march relentlessly each long day

No ear can listen to pain’s rude cry

Make waves and footprints across Earth’s face

Gain more to measure and count less loss

You judges, juries, and executioners

You vermin, lower than sperm in genitals

You fear and scare the innocent

Force offers no encouragement

Kings and their pawns fail to fathom the mind of Lizamanynames

Sociotypes grow by quoting their memotypes with smiles and charms

How is a vast void of geolocations now a great divide?

Access denied, now a clickable window fails to intercede

Maybe there was hope to save some redemption

Now you are cold, frozen, strict intervention

Open your yes-hole and let passion enter

Open yourself; live the real, true adventure

Each solution is just someone else’s problem in disguise

Have convenience; let nameless humans wander in a maze

Take the breath of your life; just observe whatever has transpired

Let the fireworks explode over jurisdictions of the dead

Gee, thanks a lot for a few stale crumbs

Gee, thanks for moments when each door slams

Fxxk shxt, get out of my life-long way

Feet march relentlessly each long day

boo hoo waah

In Uncategorized on May 12, 2008 at 7:01 pm

You who hate to read anything sad for even a moment

Fail to learn about anything real, important, or urgent

Tell the world to shut up so it doesn’t give you a headache

Live without a mind newer than any fossilized relic

How do commodities make you more of an adult and less of a child?

Legally purchase your perks and leisurely enjoy society’s ride

Ride around the sun free on the one inhabited planet

You who hate to read anything sad for even a moment

metasick

In Uncategorized on April 28, 2008 at 6:45 pm

You results-driven, goal-oriented scum

Your demands punish pure sanity and calm

You create panic, stress, poverty, and shame

You create wild, concealed anger in the home

Breadwinners bring home raw-nerves that burst behind privacy’s walls

Children become rage-crazed adults filling up all of our jails

I could peel off your skin slowly while you scream

You results-driven, goal-oriented scum

Mneh, well, I’ve had worse Mondays . . .

In Uncategorized on April 14, 2008 at 8:03 pm

Smug scribes, may the wave survive your damage

Smug scribes, you who shield your cherished image

Fxxk shxt, bond in beds with turds of feces

Get lost, wander in and out of phases

Let my flesh be bitten, torn, and chewed up in humanity’s teeth

Let me be forgotten, leave my bones lost in the muck of the earth

Smug scribes, keep your precious privileged leverage

Smug scribes, may the wave survive your damage