Thursday, January 29, 2015

there is no god, a poem by the poet and author gary pelow

i am fearful this winter day, are they, the blacks,latinos, drug dealers, following me, to seek retribution, i wonder, why would they? i have no offenses that  demand  a stalker, people try to crowd  me, make me afraid, even outside, but no proof can i produce to prove these evils against me, i try to keep my mind busy, make work is a poor replacement for human contact, as i get ready to move in two days, my anticipation grows, so does the fear, new places, new faces, all possible suspects of this treatury, actions of evil surround me, i can not run, i can not run from myself, buddha says he is just a guide, we are our own masters, it is not good to blame others, instead take charge of your wrong actions and learn, in buddha we have a teacher, we have a psychologist of sorts,not a god, ot a god of evil, of the monotheists, screw the scary man i the sky, i worshp nothing but truth,the truth of nonexistence, i plaay with fire without the hell to go with it,i havee wandered off topic, topic of fear and they who stalk me, i will defend myself by physical actions if need be,  will defend emotionaly i will fight back with patience, even forgiveness for those who do not deserve it, my heart pounds wth both fear and enthusiasm,  was not very sleepy last night, facing eviction and homelessness, at least it felt like that at that moment, shcizophrenia is a bitch, or your its bitch if you have lost control over mind and body, i am so tired, of real and percieved enemys , even the ac/dc can not drown out these living nightmares, i try to ignore them, those tht follow me, unsuccessfuly, no road to sanity tonight , maybe later in the week

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

poem of fear by gary pelow

fearful, scared, alone, unable to comprehend their lack of reponse, calling everyday, no pick up, why? have i done something wrong, i do not know or see this ugly lonely experience, i just want to live in peace, there is no peace outside on the cold winter day, will i be homeless or not, to terrifying to comprehend, the street maybe my fate and destiney, but i will fight it non the less, i look out, i see the white that dominates the ground and this scary world, i will physically present myself as an intruder if need be, i wish no trouble, i only want to live quieter than mike michelle allow, those two, my fucking room mates, they are walking personality disorders, anti social, selfish, concetrated on the selves, the me not you come first, i want an answer, i paid good money for an answer,, yet it is like i do not exist in there sight, i will go in person, i will seek the truth over these scary facts and scary times, i hope i have no secrets revealed to them, to stopp because i have the juice for insanity, for hate, i know nothing right here now, trembling and afraid, shakes so bad i burn from hot coffee, motherfuckers, why will they not answer, patience is not endless, i have onlly so much to wait through this dilema, my bach hurts, lousy posture as i type this, carpal tunnel would not be welcome here this day, ii digress, i am confused ith fear i do not know, not knowing is hell, i just want a quiet home with no romantic spats from room mates, one day at a time

Monday, January 26, 2015

a poem by author gary pelow

i shake, i tremble, outside and in, nauseated, sick to my stomach from fear and anxiety, came close today to vomiting in public, but i held it down, anxiety so bad to cause physical symptoms, not a good thing, somehow i go on, i stay alive, death solves nothing, being an atheist, i do fear the possibility of non existence, silly child like fear, i have reached the point of atheism because i see nothing but human pain, seven billion heart aches, in that i am never alone, pain, suffering, fear, i tremble still, even as i type, yet i have things to  say, important thingss, personal things, if i can, i write to the psychotic, my brothers and sisters in purgatory, maybe i lesson some pain with my psychosis details and story, so i obssesively write, or type, not many people use the art of a pen or pencil anymore, things lost to us forever, kids using keyboards at age 5 or six, things are rushing ahead, i have vertigo from the intensity of the ride, stand to quickly i fall or faint,literally i did three weeks ago , outside, in the snow, no one helped no one cared about this stranger lying prostrated on the sidewalk, should be no surprise though, humans cold as the ice under my head on the sidewalk i dropped onto, but i live.

Sunday, January 25, 2015

a poem by gary pelow

the time of change draws near' my hands tremble with anticipation' a new world, or maybe an old one revisited, not a simple manner to discern, so i write out my confusion, hoping in this dark winter place i will thrive and will not languish, languish in solitude or boredom, enough boredom, i want more, is it my birth right to not kknow pain and failure, or do i think to highly of myself, after all psychosis can lead to ideas of sel grandeur and importancce beyond what is real, i wish someetimes, my  writing was writing of song, but alas i am tone deaf, so i wish to thrive so i can write, to share with you all this experience of psychosis bi suffer from, psychosis not easily defined however it is not like  sybil and her multiples, no that is quite different, a massive hoax in psychiatry, but any way i present to you the reader some of my pain, we all experience pain, i do not say mine is more than yours, but we are all unique in our pain,. type does meen quantity, but i have digressed, i have to move in a few days and hours, i am tired running from dwelling to dwelling, such rapid change brings more confusion to the supper table of psychosis, i feeel exhausted, no rest today though, only rushing and fleeing imaginary enemies, yet as they say, i may be my own worst enemy in these confines of insanity, being solo is tedious and not interesting, but they do say ownly boring people are bored, so what i actually seek i do not know, i may know when i find it or not.

Friday, January 23, 2015

a poem by ggary pelow poema

violencia de la boca' es mas horrible que violencia de mano'' es  cierto que emociones tiene mas dolores de la cuerpo' es obvioso que alguien personas son violente con ellos mentiras,'la cuchillo de palabras son mas mal que un pistolas 'de realidad' yo creo mi amigos son cruel' pero no con mi' enemigos' por que es situacion parte de mi vida'' no comprendo esta dolores' yo veo el verdad de vida, todo vidas es horrible con mentiras de esos gente, yo no comprendo la situacion, por que ahora,en el inverno y cruel frio, ellos no ve mi miseria ellos creatorado' yo deseo solo paz, paz de amigos quien son cierto y hablan el verdad', pero esta no  posible' no  posible de ellos la verdad, mi duermo es pesadilla' horible violencia en ellos', asi' yo veo el verdad,. la verdad de mal de humans en esta tierra, violencia de palabras es hablando ellos bocas, pero yo soy  no rendicion a ellos, es posble yo poder por mi a esta  la victoria alli' , so mirandos mi en tiempos en la meses del futuro, es no facil, fqcil no existe en esta situaciione, el olor de mentiras de humanos de mal, bpor que es no respecto por las derechos de mi y to, donde es su dios ahora, personal, no creo el es real esta dios este christo, este jesus, con mucho humanos son estupidos creer es dios ideas, aprender a recibe realidad, no mas mentiras de dinero, de amigos quie no mi amigos real, yo creo que yo soy en muy situacion de peligros, es posible mi enemigos, asi, escucha a eso' la personas de violencia de palabras, yo lucha ustedes s ustedes mentiras, no creo ustedes aqui es muerte, no yo soy mucho vida, mucha fuerte , so violencia  de mentiras and palabras muerten.

Thursday, January 22, 2015

betrayal a poem by garry pelow

betrayal'old and common'it has happened again' my landlords' /decieivers at the top of power dishonesty in the form of unspoken realities' negative suprise causing pain, sucker punched, leaving mental scar of distrust' how to trust anyone' not an easy goal to obtan.' when the truth is hidden' wrong decisions are made'by dishonesty they do this' i do not under stand, i paid on time' every month' no hesitation' but now they threatan law suits for their dishonesty' yet i am the one held to account through false accussations', the mental and spiritual torment they have caused' how dare they be so bold' this seems foreign to me' yet is  it' i have no clue or evidence for this betrayal by them' they who are masters of drugs theft and screaming anger, this are my room mates' these falsifiers will be challeged' i will fight their dishonesty by law' i will not be meek any longer' they have counted on that' however i respond with assertion and proof of steadfastness' there are many influences and mind problems that bringf me to this torture and situation'i do not recall any deception on my art' i will always remember theirs.

Tuesday, January 20, 2015

nerve racking a poem by gary pelow

how could this hapen again,, almost homeless, fear as a motivator works but is painful, facing the prospect of living on the streets frightens  me,  was  not granted any sleep for 2 weeks, room mates are fucking stupid, irresonseable, they will not renew there lease and i am out cold, they have no shame or morals, traveling on foot on a new york januuary to find a new spot to hibernate' to write again, i did miss the feeling for one week, pain and fear driving me on, at first was not sure where, my hands are shaking, i stutter as i speak, how do the homeless do it, survive in 10 degree winter freeze, or why would they want to live in that, they have more pain and courage then me, i seek to write these things of pain  and fear entering the mind and soul with a spear, i seek to take pain, to take dokka, and fight it,i seem to be alive and lets hope it stays that way, yet there is anger there, boiling my gray matter like an egg, the gall of those, remarkable and cruel seems to me an apt thought, i will let iy ride, no need for for retribution, time to show adult maturity, therefore no jails, prisons inn my future, just the prison of anxiety and fear

Friday, January 16, 2015

a poem by gary pelow

wind whipping out there, cold and cruel, which is worse , the cold or my emptiness, i try to succed at life, as if i feel warm,  however hard i try i stall, like a car in the russian winter, people opposed to me, or so it feels,my heart colder than the four inches of snow, no warm heart here, just angry determination, to not die, to not klll, reettribution is wrong, as  illegal as well, jail is less fun than he insane  asylun, i have been in both, confinement on me was warranted, i seek only peace,  not revenge, revenge for unacknowledged chiild abuse against me so many years ago,my nightmares still terrorize  me over it, having schizphrenia clouds the issue even more,i suppose i should be gratefrul for survivng with no scars of deliberate cigarrette bruns, therev  is peace in strenght of  will, no  doubt, i march  forword, writing  and doing my work and just barely keeping up, but i do not quit, i will not be a four hundred pound schizophrenic, like so many of my friends and 'enemiesjusstice is a dead dream yet i still live, not just existing, but living, i will survive i will not terminate myself like a cyborg, i have more hope then that, you will see, i wil.l still be here, trying to live without fear and pain,

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

a poem by Gary pelow

There is no magic, no love, from fake gods to fake profits ortrurophets, superstition must die, of monotheism or any god ism, when you admit you do not know, than you will receive was wisdom, a wisdom of the Ruth and perfect imperfection,say goodbye to gliarp seeks your damnation, why would I honor a slave master, there is no reason to listen to you prophets of profit, go away I say, do nottallatize to me, i asked you not, leave in peace, leave me to the ha
Piness of logic, of thought,of science, take away the fake saviors from my sitht, i am saved by dawkins, who led me to truth, the truth alo prophets lies, science does not, two plus two is surely four, yet you say ten, you are  liarprose

a poem by Gary pelow

U can see I want to be from confusion, the confusion of gods and god, I seek nobtruth from fake revelation,the lies abound,what is the rue, only science , only reason,we are told to be afraid, that his wrath is company ing, ho many claim this in god,fake,like jars,there is no master in the sky, unicorns are not real,do not believe in revelations of superstition, let reason and logicc, you cQnot be serious in the fables you tell, gogo away, do not harras me, I am of logic, not fake paaadises, perhaps maryly Manson is right, right in rejecting fascng ou call me a godaphobe, you are a liar, you know nothing, not everytscism ng

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

gos a poem by gary pelow

what is god, a mirage a ghost, who haunts the universe, or a man in flesh, it may not matter,if  god is real, in monotheism form, he is a petty cruel  lord, unwortthy of praise or or worship, i asked for his help aand love, and received from him a cup of urine to drink, you see god, the personal one of christ, his father gives emptiness, i think he thrives on death and pain,  even on the cross, what kind of father creates and kills his children, i see in heavan god the dictator, spiriitual hitler, klling ansd toorturing hebrews and man and woman,, why give love to that tyrant, who murdered his son, it seems to me it is better to love lucifer, not that tin god of judea, wait you sayy, take that back or go to hell, which proves my point, he slauhtered jesus hebres his children, read it  for yourself, iits his on words' straight from heaven and hell, i spit on hm  as he d unto me, evil gods are worse than nonexstent gods

Monday, January 12, 2015

snow a poem by gary pelow

cold snow covering the soul' no snow blower for that, such emptiness not easily removed, as the white poison of the soul builds up, there is no easy escape, no sun just around the corner, just cold rain and bitter white cold, there is an irony in the fact that snow smothers and its color suppose to be white, the color of supposed happiness is the white color of emotional chains, is  a dark emotional color any  better, i do not know, sometimes i think black gets a bad rap, much good comes from black, sometimes a black cat is better than a white one, actually i give color of moods to much credit, color is an unthinking natural attribute with no meaning beyond its appearance, likewise skin color is given too much attentionn, it would be a refreshing experience for people not to notice skin color, to pay more attention to the soul would be a new world of common sense, we can believe what ever you want, i believe  in justice and caring, two attributes of the wise, cetainly not seen or done by haters , i wonder if man will survive his own predatory actions, there is no importance to race, just the miind and soul,

Saturday, January 10, 2015

a poem by Gary pelow

Tomorrow, a new day ,one of life, not death,my sickness will refer hope of conquest, victory\ over  insanity, Buddha is my guide through pain and confusion, more real than Jesus, more practical than christ,release from physical pain is also the goal, pain mind and body, psychosis enflames the pain, body, mine, spirit, there is nothing to hide of on anymore, I will soldier ahead, , more hopeful than death is victory over death, life abounds no longer estranged, possible Victory,now will come, I am my own master to heal

Friday, January 9, 2015

poem by gary pelow

cancer of the soul invades me today, i have no patience, alone in this brutal january, my suspitions are burning bright, i feel hated by all, cant seem to please anyone, anticipate punishment by all i meet or see, why do they stare., they do not know me, nor i them, why am i observed so certainly i am not that interesting, yet they do stare, accusing hateful from all around me, i vomit up fear and anger, my soul has a headache, no meds for that, no happy pills this time, i seek only peace,. not violence,. i seek justice and fairness and find only confusion, my hands tremble with fear i do not know what to do, fear thicker than blood, deep from the psychosis, i will wait it out, victory is still possible because i breath.