Jon Pear (a.k.a. NeuroAster)

Posts Tagged ‘news’

littera scripta manet

In sigma on June 24, 2010 at 9:27 am

Palms, pens, fingers, and pencils cross the Blank Paper Desert

Leaving lonely abandoned glyphs and graphemes in their wake

Each text waits to be read, ignored, obscured, unremembered

Pages rot in arcane existence, quietly opaque

Why is this train-station-of-thought here, where no trains-of-thought ever arrive?

When shall deserted documents bask in the sunlight of attention?

Manuscripts wait just to be found once by one roving mind’s fortunate swerve

Manuscripts ache in Ignorance-Limbo, a melancholy dungeon

Printing-machines mass-produce our wireless, mouse-less, link-less papyrus

Organized by ISBN’s and the Dewey Decimal System

None of our schools cover all ideas and concepts published around us

Nobody on Earth knows all; nobody’s got the perfect cerebrum

Through life, even the most informed have more to discover and explore

Each true spirited soul believes in some useful effort

Palms, pens, fingers, and pencils bravely hope to enlighten and inspire

Palms, pens, fingers, and pencils cross the Blank Paper Desert

blood and conflict

In my world on February 25, 2009 at 12:39 pm

fists

packed hands

tightly clenched

ready to fight

knuckles bent in rage

dare to attack

win and lose

left right

punch

poem for Blog Action Day 2008

In Uncategorized on October 15, 2008 at 3:26 pm

(PREAMBLE: Special thanks to http://360.yahoo.com/dews24u who has just brought http://blogactionday.org/ to my attention)

Some unthinkable future shall come without affordable air to breathe

We are building a future on sand with individual-blame and myth

Urban-spirals are made of the growing cracks in pavement and skulls and glass

We are letting it happen, and feeling self-assured at a silent price

Full moon calls the spirit like some kind of visual-bell

Glares down over cities of starved stomachs ready to kill

Some invisible crack has begun to form from True Reality’s wrath

Some unthinkable future shall come without affordable air to breathe

CAUTION: this poem is scary stuff, not4kids

In Uncategorized on September 18, 2008 at 6:40 am

You, the master of power-control, you demand blood, gold, and silver for your strength

Youth is doomed in the name of your own crown and throne; iron-fists are flattened in your wrath

Kings and pawns can be crossing a new border; just draw some imaginary-line

Take the honor, and brag at the sky; gloat and stand smug; just be proud of your design

Stand over cultures like a great giant glutton over a banquet

Shout vocal thunder to the mob; enjoy your most definitive moment

Yakkety yak and blah blah and crazy talk into microphones

Making the sense a mouth makes in front of multiple multitudes

Sicken the human stomach; play the mass trick

Tension, alarm, and panic, make it all work

All of the constitution burns to smoked ash

All of your gains are losses; even friends clash

Once, you stood by a bucket, and held the handle of a mop

Gazing into an angel, the pelvic valley of her lap

Wear a costume; forget who you were; wear a pale clay mask of archetype and myth

You, the master of power-control, you demand blood, gold, and silver for your strength

souls and loved ones of those hijacked

In alpha on September 10, 2008 at 9:40 pm

What rises when temples fall?

What virtues can then prevail?

Life breaks with the hearts and glass

Proud structures did not suffice

Worlds under surveillance eyes

Cold stares at our tearful days

Grapes to wine, grain to bread

Leave the womb, mourn the dead

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