Monday, February 29, 2016

A poem by Gary G Pelow, The Hunger.

The hunger for justice in this world is strong and yet so is the world that evades it, the human race is spiraling out of control in its violence and injustice, there seems to be no hope for the survival of mankind because of the violent evil we commit against each other.  There are those who would take away the progress we have made in freedom and cooperation in the human race, they seek to take away freedom of speech, freedom to express religious belief, as well as have no religious beliefs at all.  There are people who believe their way is the only way of doing things, this is the new fascism, they seek to destroy freedom of expressing opposing opinions and points of view, with violence and threats.  The extreme religious right and the regressive left seek to control us, to control what we say, do, or believe.  College campuses have become centers of left wing fascism in suppressing freedom of speech and even attempts to control thoughts and beliefs.  The far right religious nuts are no better, they seek to control the morality and behaviors of others based on the violent immorality of their holy scriptures, like the Bible and the Koran, two books written by bronze age superstitious and violent goat herders, used as a justification to kill their enemies in the most violent means available to themselves.   America, the United States, all of western society, is under attack, under attack by ignorant and violent ideologies that seek to destroy freedom by destroying moderate voices of reason and cooperation.

Wednesday, February 24, 2016

Schizophrenia coping vlog

Schizophrenia coping vlog

A poem by Gary G Pelow, Cold Rain

The cold rain is falling, the cold piercing the soul, I walk drenched in cold water, it is February and the snow has been replaced by falling cold water, in many ways this is worse than snow.  Snow is cold but dry, at least when not melted.  Cold rain in cold temperatures is very painful to me and my soul.  I feel so empty and depressed by this dark grey weather, as if this weather has the ability to make my mental problems worse, and they are worse in this bleak, hellish cold of a hell frozen over.  I seek to get home quickly, hoping for even colder temperatures to create snow instead of rain, this will happen soon, I prefer the snow and wind to this bleak backdrop of cold but unfrozen water.  I am very low on energy in this shit weather, I am very lethargic and depressed in this shitty climate of Rochester, New York.  I hate this fucking city, its weather, its people, its crime.  I want to go back, back to Brockport along the canal, where I can walk in summer along its stony banks, there the weather is the same as Rochester, but without the heartless rude and cruel, violent people of this city, fuck Rochester, fuck the cold, why the fuck was I born here?

Friday, February 19, 2016

Answering Matthew4Nineteen

A poem by Gary G Pelow, House of Deceit, Bob Larson

There is a House of Deceit, a house of lies and superstition, there are many members living in this house.  This house of a fake God or gods. this house of fake demons and spirits, this house is populated with liars and charlatans.  There are the likes of Bob Larson, a fake, self appointed exorcist, a man of many like himself that prey on people's fears of nonexistent demons, spirits and fake gods.  This fool makes money off the superstitious, off the desperate who are often mentally ill, promising them freedom from their torment, promising to bring them peace by expelling demons that are not real.  Bob Larson is not just an eccentric, harmless fool to be ignored, but a dangerous liar, who spreads Dark Ages ideas in the twenty first century, just to bring himself money and power, preying on the weak minded and lost.  This is a dangerous man, a man who slows scientific progress and treatment of the mentally ill,  The mentally ill who need real help and psychiatric treatment are being railroaded to the Dark Ages in fear of demons, Satan, God and other imaginary beings.  There is an irony here, that Bob Larson claims to drive out evil caused by supernatural events is evil himself, evil not created by the supernatural world or beings, but evil created by one man in deceit.  This man must be exposed as an example of human created evil that he is, after all we live in the twenty first century, and liars and thieves must be exposed when innocents are harmed or killed by the likes of Bob Larson.

Thursday, February 18, 2016

A poem by Gary G Pelow, The Place To Be.

The place to be is among friends,to be near those who actually give a shit about what happens to you and how you feel.  I get the impression my family is not included in my place to be, they are petty and back stabbers, they have betrayed me with rumors and lies, trying to sabotage my life, success, my romantic life, my work, all that is important to me is not important to my biological family, they are not in my place to be, they are light years away now, I pay them no mind, they are useless to me and my place to be.  I seek no revenge, but insist they leave me alone, this fake family I once thought I loved, and now despise as traitors.  There will be no violence or revenge, no retaliation, not from me, I have no desire to go to jail or die, also there will be no suicide, my family will not win that way over me by me quitting on life.  The place to be is the place to stay alive, I will not surrender to emotions, depression, anxiety or my psychosis and I certainly will not surrender to my family.

Monday, February 8, 2016

A poem by Gary G Pelow, Jumping?

Why do people jump to their death?  What is so horrible as to want to defeat the instinct of survival?  How could anything be that terrible?  Why do people shoot themselves in the head, as my sister did?  There has to be a reason for this unreasonable acts.  Is it fear? Is it depression? Is it psychosis?  What is the answer?  I would really like to know why people take medications to overdose to die, to murder themselves.  I do not understand suicide in the healthy who are free from physical pain and illness, how could mental and emotional pain be so bad as to cause death?  I ask these questions over and over again and my sister is still dead, even if their was an answer to these questions, she is still dead.

Thursday, February 4, 2016

A poem by Gary G Pelow, Darkness

Darkness has fallen and the lights have not kicked on, the darkness drops like a rock on my house, the danger of hidden trespassers seems to be real.  The cold and fear wraps around my house, I am shaking in fear in the blackness and bleakness, I pray for the lights to come on, I am afraid, I hate the dark and cold, moonless night.  The Sun has set and my fear grows in the Darkness, I have dreams of horrible violence done unto me, they are out there lurking, with their knives, guns and fists.  I have seen and fallen victim to violence all to often, I am shaking.  Those evil spirits are waiting for me to strike me down, yet they are not spirits of the nonmaterial world, no these evil spirits have bodies like you and I ,they can cause real hurt, fear, anger and pain.  Who is watching me? Who is lurking outside the glass looking in?  I am disoriented, lost and dizzy, like I was drunk on a rollercoaster, I can not find my bearings in the black ink, I am lost, in a maze of black.  The lights are still not on, I am still shaking, waiting for the light.

Monday, February 1, 2016

Coping with Schizophrenia blog.

A poem by Gary G Pelow, The Noise

The noise is unbearable, I can not take it, they yell, scream and fight.  These people I live with do not care about my quiet and solitary ways that make me happy and at peace, they only care for themselves and their petty spats of fake love.  The landlord does nothing, and the noise continues, it never abates.  Sometimes there is silence and quiet, but moments of peace are rare, because they do not care.  They yell and bitch at each other like wild dogs, they are filled with venom of soul as they attack each other, they are animals.  I am here in silence, here in my solitude, I do not care about their petty squabbles of fake love filled with raw hate for each other.  I seek quiet places, I seek only peace, why must they take that from me?  I have done nothing of the sort to them, I know life is sometimes unfair and even brutal, yet I at least try to influence reality with no expectation of actually controling it.  The volume keeps going up and down unexpectedly, it is nerve racking this unpredictable nonsense, I am tired of the bullshit, I feel like yelling and screaming at them, yet even with that I would lose, they will not listen, they do not care about peace and serenity, for themselves or anyone else.