Jon Pear (a.k.a. NeuroAster)

Posts Tagged ‘recovery’

above the ultragogue

In schmategory on April 6, 2009 at 2:26 am

Some of us experience Feeling X, even if you yourselves do not

Some of us experience Feeling X, even if you cannot relate

Someone paid attention, but no one shared the pain inside

World of dudes and honeys, you make the spirit’s journey hard

Please feel free to stare; it’s only natural to stare

Please don’t panic; I am not an entity to fear

Let me fail to answer your stupid questions in peace

I am not your servant, and you were never my boss

Draw your own conclusions, make your decisions, and keep your distance

No one’s gonna stop you; no one approves or condemns your choices

Certainly not the bites of food I chew and swallow, or the breaths of air I take

Whether or not I co-exist is immaterial, or so I’d like to think

Whether you’re having a good or bad day, I hardly give a shxt

Some of us experience Feeling X, even if you yourselves do not

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a piss on you

In alpha, my world, schmategory on March 22, 2009 at 1:35 pm

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

After years of blame and pressure

After years of self-denial

Anger cracks my tooth-enamel

Call this posted text “depressing”

Why the fxxk are YOU complaining?

Every day, the world is colder

Every person’s just a soldier

Now, I fear I can’t recover

Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder

just another Monday poem

In my world on March 2, 2009 at 3:02 pm

Walking from Marion Street to the Millennium Library and back

Daily routine of returning to the shelves and discovering a book

Living without the experiences others can recognize and share

Learning that nobody reads about the cares and concerns of the bizarre

Yeah, I’m still okay, for those of you who wonder how I am

Hard to entertain a readership addicted to the norm

Each day is a search for ways to entertain the easily-bored

Warm fuzzies are all that people want; whatever else is ignored

Leave me to live at a distance as remote and convenient as you like

Walking from Marion Street to the Millennium Library and back

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

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

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

Go back2sleep

In Uncategorized on August 11, 2008 at 11:35 am

Help wanted, dead or alive; construction ahead

Rise, shine, and blossom for all you dream of inside

Flare up, and glow like a fireplace; beam like the sun

Fxxk shxt from enemies, friends, and strangers in pain

Rays of light and thought zip through the eyes of needles and hurricanes

Days and nights are gone; Time’s Chronojectile zooms with a ruthlessness

Choosers beg for big, fat gains, and lose their spirituality

Songs can open mouths; live life with no casino or lottery

Trailer-saints are starved by the greed of mansion-trash

Trailer-saints are people, whom snobs will never touch

Welfare-churches crumble within the market-state

Still, you must be strong, and endure the reign of shxt

No prayers or baptisms quench the thirst of the globe

Souls lost and found in the void continue to throb

This hiring-project is still in processing mode

Help wanted, dead or alive; construction ahead

How dare you exist

In Uncategorized on April 20, 2008 at 9:56 pm

No redeeming qualities can save you now

Thankless time and energy is blamed on you

Now your sole-providers are about to crack

You transcend what anyone could ever take

Now you’ll pay for innocence you never chose

You’re an easy target, and a source of stress

Your existence challenges the status quo

No redeeming qualities can save you now

EAT BEHAVIOR SYMPTOMS, WEIRDOPHOBES ! ! !

In schmategory on March 20, 2008 at 9:38 pm

Let our tongues, lips, limbs, fingers and toes

Move in all safe, wild, possible ways

Move in all safe ways, harmless and free

Move in ways Christ-like-people enjoy

Join the path of least-destructiveness

Join the path of wacky-innocence

Let the snobs go live life by the rules

Free our tongues, lips, limbs, fingers and toes

So the condom broke . . .

In schmategory on March 10, 2008 at 9:20 pm

Doctor Lutum and Madam Domus appear in Winnipeg still

Driving metal and glass on tires, and remaining publicly cool

All our windows and mirrors broke us, the rubber rolls them along

Creeping up to my steps on solitude’s pavement, where I belong

Proud shame oozes down the septic-tank of the heart

They’ve done quite enough, they’ve kept their halos intact

Now I’m taking forever just to renew, recover, and heal

Doctor Lutum and Madam Domus appear in Winnipeg still

?????

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

Some readers may appreciate this text more than others

Feel free to hate this text or assume this text is “worthless”

No reader has to like or observe each observation

This text is just my therapy, I heal, that’s my mission

Chit-chat is NOT my purpose, desire, need, strength, or talent

Strange brains exist, believe it or not, quirks ARE important

What traits will we, as humans, preserve through coming futures?

Some readers may appreciate this text more than others

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