Biography of Jon Alan
(Born September 9,1952)
My mother smoked while I was in the womb and until I was four, she gave me this horrific pneumonia, asthma and bronchitis, but worse, both parents physically and emotionally, psychologically deeply abused me.
I have been a printing pressman, graphic designer, and darkroom technician and photographer. I won a national design award with the design department at Sarah Lawrence College in Westchester County, NY, USA too many years ago to remember, it was for a brochure for their Early Childhood Center.
I then was a high level Operations Manager for a huge bank, and then a medium sized warehouse business.
Finally I ran my own sole-proprietorship business as a consultant to small business, a network architect, technician and trainer.
(1996 to Present)
Permanently disabled and permanently unable to work due to a collapsed and crushed lower lumbar spine, and a horribly failed and ineffective 7 hour surgical three level spinal laminectomy and fusion at S1-L3 disk levels, leaving me mostly bedridden and in 24/7 horrific pain, medication - the palliative approach - administered by a beautiful human being and Pain Management Doctor, has given me back a small amount of my freedom to spend at most two-three hours a day doing chores or fun, the rest of the day spent in bed on my side like a Sultan reclining, writing my poetry and publishing my art and photographs.
I live so far below the poverty level, surviving on $724.00 a month SSI, and $152.00 a month in food stamps, that I have learned a new humbling lesson on what is really important in life!
Jon Alan's Works:
I only wish!
Jon Alan Poems
**one Lonely Night
Love, so blind, blind faith confused Resentment at being deceived and used A leap of faith, a common mistake Emotions shrugged off and abused
**in Terms Of Time
the way the sun reflects off matter around 3 pm on sunny balmy pre-autumn holidays where there are usually throngs of people milling about
**oh But For More Time
I dreamt that I was looking out On my trail, just peering about At once I saw two heads in a hollow Peering back at my curious gaze
**searching For Soul In A Bottomless Hol...
I've stretched the imagination to the point of no return Loose'd the bolts of meaning 'till I carried no concern
In a place called Rochelle Palace Overlooking placid seas I found her just a-waiting Waiting there for me.
**a New Poem - A Prayer To Tellus
The dew on the leaves hint the coming of dawn Father Sol on his perch, morning birds sing their songs He peeks o'er the hills, Sol's warmth clears the Glade As the dawns dewey clouds willingly fade
**lovers In Paradise
Let us stay here now, forever, You and I. Let us stay in Summer's sweetness with the dew drops in our hair And the scented smells of soft sweet roses
**shelly At The Penny Arcade
Down by what used to be the penny arcade Where me and Shelly used to meet, now and then, I saw her at first just standing there, a porcelain statuette Worshiping her viewers with her glass eyes
The Pointlessness Of War
Readied were the armies of the This and of the That Angels blew their trumpets And the devils sent out rats
Mingle as one in unkempt jungle Of clothes strewn around like mistresses to a rich man. Melt as one in hollow desire
**mortals In Paradise
Sidney died by the lake, on the way to his funeral He could not bear the loss and was overwhelmed with grief.
The Rainbow's Way (For Rebecca) 06-13-...
My dearest of Angels, you might think me mad I have yet to sleep and rest my head Though my heart is aflame with the promise of Love I am too restless to sleep, Lord above,
Like shoes void of a spirit To bring them Life The night is but a hollow bewitching wife.
Fields Of The Heart
In forgotten fields a lone man walks On aged brown and crumpled stalks Bygone times and ageless thoughts Nothing is left of the things he sought.
Mingle as one in unkempt jungle
Of clothes strewn around like mistresses to a rich man.
Melt as one in hollow desire
Create dull pain
Exhaust the exhilaration