Jon Pear (a.k.a. NeuroAster)

Posts Tagged ‘rant’

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In my world on June 10, 2010 at 11:30 am

Why do you ask where and how I’ve been when I’m always a mouseclick away?

Why do you seem to be allergic to Facebook and Twitter?

Where is the shared, open flexibility Cyberspace once promised me?

All our conflicting “options” divide us forever

If you’re sincere, send a crapless, gagless e-mail to just me, and not a contact-list

Learn something about the first sites I rush to, not just the ONE site that you cling to

Why is this so hard to understand? I’m rushing to touch base, and gee what thanks I get

Why simply assume I’ve just vanished into thin air, and then ask me “Where were you?”???

There is a lot more to Cyberspace than just Multiply Dot Com

When was the last time that Multiply Dot Com was mentioned on the news?

Blogging allows more than telephones could first do when they first came

Yet there is chit-chat entirely throughout countless ordinary blogs

I have Googled many of you, and discovered where else you’ve popped up

Just to be asked where I vanished to everywhere I fail to make frequent time for

I should rediscover my introvert-self, and feel free to just type

Letting the Muse have her way, and accepting that I can’t appease every reader

I’m as confused at least as much as I am confusing, when and if I confuse at all

Why are you so sure the site you’ve chosen is where I’ll appear every day?

Why would your single one irrelevant, obscure chosen site have such broad appeal?

Why do you ask where and how I’ve been when I’m always a mouseclick away?

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escape

In my world on January 8, 2010 at 9:39 pm

i am your misery

i am your sleep-deprivation

i am your headaches

i am the slap of my palm on your face

i am your disappointment

i am your starvation

i am a mouth and stomach eating more than we can afford

i am the stink of my body odor in your nostrils

i am the unfxxkable fat you hate to see naked

i am the dust in your coughs and sneezes

i am your stress

i am your burden

. . .

forget me tonight

don’t let me ruin your evening

still in one piece

In Uncategorized on February 11, 2009 at 12:13 pm

Dangerously slippery ice on Winnipeg sidewalks

Moment when it rained and it froze, a treacherous nuisance

Ambulances rush to the scenes where bones have been broken

Winnipeggers awkwardly walk in terror, with caution

Each foot shall slide in due time

Safe just to stay inside home

Frictionless terrain is a bane that drives us to madness

Dangerously slippery ice on Winnipeg sidewalks

short poem

In Uncategorized on October 30, 2008 at 3:30 pm

In the eye-blink of a moment, mouths confess everything to you

 

And you’re now living to see this day occur horribly for you

 

And your scream echoes, and scares the world away, distances from you

 

And it’s all just for the human race to blame nuisances on you

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

echinotext

In schmategory on April 10, 2008 at 7:08 am

You, the people who hate having to think

Just continue to live life by a book

Never paradigm-shift forward at all

Human-nature is just stubbornly real

Just enjoy your cozy failures to prevent preventable events

Judge and curse proactive-people for their flustered failures to be nice

Fxxk the air with your shxt, fuming with stink

You, the people who hate having to think

666

In schmategory on March 25, 2008 at 10:35 pm

Back in the skinnerbox again

Living the life of a machine

None of our adjectives describe

Endless endurance in the crib

Spirits are dying to survive

Chilling the passion of the brave

All of our fingerprints are gone

Back in the skinnerbox again

Monday-morning migrane

In schmategory on March 24, 2008 at 1:57 am

“Negative attitudes” are NOT the world’s only problems

“Positive attitudes” alone are NOT real solutions

Cut off my fingers if you hate this loud text-catharsis

Cut off my fingers if this text is just grouchy rudeness

Old, exalted exiles

Sicken sheltered stomachs

Monday-morning’s mattress

Fails to lure the restless

Old, exalted exiles alternate between parallel alleys

Palms and fingers rise and silence the alarm-clocks of annoyance

Now the world is changing faster than a king’s horses could gallop

Virus-memes are driving all of the contrived ways we develop

Drones are now going public with a Song-And-Dance routine gone haywire

Wireless, wild mobile messages unite the zones the rich guns conquer

Empires gulp down communities and then decay as big, dead giants

Leaving gross phragmaplasm on a planet paved with hot-rod commerce

System-survivors have endured enough gentle verbiage

Spoken by merchants who have always met every challenge

“Positive attitudes” alone are NOT real solutions

Text is the jungle for my legal, safe temper-tantrums

“Negative attitudes” are NOT the world’s only problems

RANT WARNING: This is NOT rosy or heartwarming

In schmategory on February 25, 2008 at 11:07 am

Now let me finish the homework DNA has assigned

Your power-struggle is over, you lose, access-denied

This voice will never be silenced, time twists all we have known

Write more criteria-lists and kiss each object you own

Let the record hide The Only-Human Show

You do not remember, none will ever know

Great, thanks for all of the wasted years, go live as you planned

Now let me finish the homework DNA has assigned

this is a poem, you dumbass

In schmategory on January 28, 2008 at 12:44 am

Why do we humans bother having a point or making any sense?

Why do we humans have criteria, norms, agendas, rules, and plans?

Most perverse kinks in all the universe never have a valid case

Why do we humans have to need a coherence-myth amid the mess?

Thumbs and fingers weave derivative kitsch and trains-of thought blend wonders

Sculpted clay and oil-on-canvas are childish toys of old-age madness

Taste and see the loudest-amplitude nostril-stinks of each brief decade

Now could be the nanosecond before the planet Earth goes rancid

Lick tongues, confess your climaxes with candid, blunt songs

Swim through the neurogalaxies where comets cut strings

Wipe the bums of meritocracy’s elect until death

Love every neurotypical and freak throughout growth

Arguments throughout The Blogosphere bloom with counterpoint

Cyberspace is where graffiti becomes a sacrament

Winnipeg is still my favorite municipality

Even the Provencher Bridge has an air of majesty

We eccentrics are tired of dark, blank zeitgeists that are all the same

Let our lenses refract the light, love enemies and hate their harm

Yes, our teleomazes change each journey where we intersect

We exist and become the real truth nobody can just accept

Let’s endure vivid dreams in the name of the mouth who sings our fate

Metaverbed metanouns are gifts for the mouth who doesn’t bite

We are all one and we, the universe, enact the tranceful dance

Why do we humans bother having a point or making any sense?