"autism" poems
abolitionism
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autism
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diabolism
diamagnetism
May 12, 2017
May 12, 2017 at 12:16 PM UTC
Sometimes I hate this
This thing that I'm born with
It causes so many unnecessary fights
It causes so many stupid problems
I can't go to a regular school
I can't have a regular job
The moment I say the word autism
I've already had enough
I don't know what the positive sides are
Of something that makes me so different
I only know the negative parts
Because that's the part that makes me conflicted
Why would I love something that has ruined my chance for a normal life?
How could I accept something that refuses my acceptance?
All they tell me is you need help
you need help, you need help, you need help
And I get help
The people who help have helped
But even though I can function better
No one can take away this internal anger
I feel inadequate, I feel dumb
I feel sad, I feel numb
I can't speak of my emotions
although I got feelings all the time
I wish there was a potion
that made it possible for me to speak about it in an other way than rhyme
I wish I could say what was really on my mind
I wish I could say how my autism makes me want to die
I wish I could say I love myself in any shape or form
I wish I could say that I can conform to the norm
But I can't
so I play league
And then I get mad
When they say "autistic screech"
Because it's so hilarious
Living with this everyday
Because it's so hilarious
That this will never ******* change
Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 7:37 PM UTC
The word “identity” has two different meanings:
1. The fact of being who or what a person or thing is.
2. A close similarity or affinity.
I would like to focus on the first meaning.
My identity is based on who I am as a person.
It’s based on the things I do and don’t like.
My identity is based on the clothes I wear.
My identity is based on the way I choose to talk.
My identity is based on my thoughts and opinions.
My identity isn’t based on my Autism or Anxiety.
Some people say they’re identity is their Autism.
And if they’re happy with that, that’s great.
But I was just recently diagnosed with Autism.
And while I have had it my entire life.
I didn’t know anything about it.
I did, however, know that I had anxiety issues.
I’ve had anxiety for a long time, and it’s bad.
I can recognize when an attack is gonna happen.
This isn’t always the case, but a lot of the time, it is.
I know what helps me when I have an anxiety attack.
I have an understanding of what I can and can't handle.
My Autism, on the other hand, is still a mystery to me.
I know that it affects the way I think and learn.
I know it’s the reason for why I am sensitive to temperature.
I know it’s why so had such a hard time in school.
But I refuse to say that my Autism and anxiety identify me as a person.
I have known my personality way long never than both my Autism and anxiety combined.
This isn’t true for everyone, but it is for me.
This is the way I choose to approach my Autism and anxiety.
I’m Autistic, and I’m not ashamed of it.
I have anxiety, and I’m working hard on it.
But I’m not Autism, and I’m not Anxiety.
I’m me.
And I will always stand by this train of thought.
I know that there are times when my interests become my coping skills.
But when I’m not anxious, then they are just my interests.
When I’m having an anxiety attack, then they are the skills I need in order to function.
Right now, this isn’t a coping skill.
My writing this, isn’t a form of therapy.
This is an interest of mine.
I love to write, and was thinking about this, so I decided to speak my mind.
I’m happy to say I’m happy right now.
I don’t feel a bit of stress, and if I do, then one of my interests will be used to help me through it.
Until then, I’m just doing what makes me happy.
And I’m happy that I know myself well to recognize this.
You don’t have to agree with me on anything I just said.
I just ask that you respect that these are my opinions.
I’m an individual who just happens to have Autism and anxiety.
Alright, that’s all I got, I’ve just been in a writing mood over the last few days.
Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 2:37 PM UTC
Autism Speaks don’t speak for me.
Cause I reject their reality.
What if I felt the exact same way
about their neurotypicality?
See, normal?
It’s a peculiar word,
and I guess it means I’m not following the herd.
But I don’t see why you want me gone—
At least I’m alive. At least I’m strong.
******
My existence a crime.
A baby they’d abort if they’d only had the time.
Early detection.
Eugenics by another name.
Autism speaks till you silence it without shame.
Auschwitz for Autism, soon to be in business—
Neurotypical Nazis, only trying to finish us
Yeah, to you we’re hardly people,
and driving off a cliff with your daughter isn’t evil?
Well, here’s another wakeup call for the sheeple.
You exterminate so much you make the Daleks look peaceful.
Well, aren’t I human? Answer me please.
Because your fear and “awareness” has me down on my knees.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 3:56 PM UTC
over-caffeinated like a maj-gician (the electricians of existence), Matilda sang her morning brew a lullaby as she convinced breakfast not to panic from the pain of the frying pan- "sit quietly, take the pain, feel the burn- SIZzle! soon you'll be a human being and begin your life as a synthetic deity free within the skin of metastasized consciousness."
soon the egg seized in pleasure; a masochistic joy overtook it as yoke splurged from within like ****** ***** during ******* when the gimp has forgotten the safety word, screaming
BANANA
NEW YORK
CODE ORANGE
! ! !
while the perpetrator continues to scream verses from the Bible and Leviticus 1:3; an audiotape of On Being and Nothingness sends chills down the dark-sides spine in a hyperreal realization of the role choice plays in evils mortality.
must we listen while we speak? does reciprocity die in egoic colonization of the African subcontinent of the mind? is this the beginning of an age of autism born within the confines of illuminated rectangles of permissible distance and social hell-frozen-over?
man, you weren't even paying attention.
**** you.
Jun 7, 2013
Jun 7, 2013 at 3:06 PM UTC
Grow organic gardens, untainted seeds, saved and collected
plow the dirt, rich red earth, autumn's bountiful birth
food pure and wild, to eat - a way of life!
we cannot thrive in unearthly soils
in their poisonous, GMO field of spoils
awaken from our sleeping denials
autism, sickness born in the chemical fields
all the killing of you and I
Jun 24, 2014
Jun 24, 2014 at 11:11 AM UTC
What is being intelligent?
Is intelligent being a person who’s a prestige's individual that mastered every curricular course
And can solve every question with no hesitation
Or
A person with Down syndrome, Autism, Mental Retardation, etc…
That has a unique characteristic that makes them who they are and do things other people can’t?
Feb 8, 2013
Feb 8, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
The puzzle is never solved.
They are looked at and pointed at
by children who don't know
that we're supposed to pity them.
*Oh Son, Oh Daughter
they have Autism!
Oh, I feel so bad!*
The straight jackets and shocks
have turned to stares and mocks.
They didn't to choose to be born this way
a piece of a puzzle that doesn't fit.
We look at them and thank God that its
not us.
Its not me.
But the indifference doesn't work.
We thank God that its not us.
But do we ever feel any empathy?
If you could imagine having a retardation
never really fully understanding anything
A chromosomal abnormality that would
affect your whole life forever.
Having to be watched
always having someone taking care of you
you would never have any independence.
Autism seemed to be their name
"he's Autistic"
It wasn't their name.
There is much more to them.
These people used to be tortured
people thought that they had a demon inside of them
that we had to get out.
What we never realized was that
the real demon was us.
Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 10:50 AM UTC
The professor said
"Family therapy is like a Pie Graph
Everyone in the family contributes their own piece of pie.
When people leave
there's a chunk of pie missing
and the other members of the family
have to take on some of those roles to fill the pie."
Here's my theory:
Everyone in the family has their own whole pie.
Categorizes each housemate as a piece of it.
how they view them in their family.
how they relate to them,
Imagine a home
Mom and her four daughters.
Step dad, his daughter and son.
imagine three bedrooms.
The adults taking up one of them.
let's look at the Mother,
Her four daughters
all with different fathers
she knows how to raise children.
The daughters all know how to
Be
Children, be
Sisters, be
older or younger than each other.
The step-father knows how to have
A Wife,
One Daughter,
A Son.
Well Step-brother leaves the house.
Susie has a child at fifteen.
what does
her pie look like now?
She used to have a boyfriend,
four sisters,
a mother, father.
Now lost a brother
gained a baby.
She only knows how to be a child.
let's look at the mother.
She hasn't learned: Grandchild
but she knows how to raise a baby.
lets look at the step-father, lost his son, gained four daughters,
what's another one?
The sisters, lost their brother, a role model.
Exchanged for this this new baby.
another sister?
everyone's pie is empty in some parts.
judging by some other
dead white guys theory
when who you are doesn't line up
with who you see yourself as,
that's when people develop
Mental illness
Well I wouldn't call it ill, but let's count the bruises.
That baby is going to grow up as her mother's sister.
Suzie is going to seek the comfort of men.
Her sisters are going to constantly fight between calling themselves auntie
and Big Sis.
like tossing themselves on either side of the barbed wire fence is cause for death.
The farther we go back in each family member's backstory
the more slivers of pie we find
Georgia has autism,
Carley diagnosed depression,
Rosie an abusive relationship of 10 years.
Clover is quiet.
The Brother, schizophrenic, autistic, bipolar.
Any number of names they can slap on him.
He doesn't live there anyhow.
isn't human.
Muffle the sister that says she miss him.
hit her, cut her, lock her up.
This was a case study.
I lived with this family for four years.
unintentionally filled up parts of their pie.
I was Son.
Older brother.
Boyfriend.
Father.
When I stopped being a fly on the wall
Stopped seeing how their story was developing.
I didn't have any pie left.
Feb 7, 2016
Feb 7, 2016 at 1:25 PM UTC
i’m so ******* weird
from the time i could talk
i could never get the language just right
since the first time i walked
been stumbling and awkwardly fumbling along
a slow learner is what they called me
in the back offices of the training institutions
the doctors and teachers didn’t know what to do
but my experience was as true as any without solutions
wish i could find the best words to remind me of you
keep your eye on the ball
or sing the tune to your own songs
you never get the balance right or wrong
life’s as short as it is twice as long
driving around in a teenage mind looking for something to prove
we would draw pictures in art class in high school
most of the kids would paint flowers or attempt portraits
i would draw intense war scenes prophesizing the end to come
with underground bunkers and a militarized fortress
to harbor the last remaining scraps of humanity and my sanity
i’m so weird
they called it an autism spectrum disorder
but i wonder if i’m actually possessed by a demon
a love demon dancing out on the border
between insanity and the truth and the divine
i’m so ******* weird
i especially am slow
stumbling and tumbling toward the light
always right, always wrong, i know
since the day that i was born i’ve always been a slow learner and a loon
originally posted on my blog at https://sublimeobscenities.wordpress.com/ on January 8, 2015
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 3:36 AM UTC
autism to blame
for the white in white
male
(I blame)
***
for shared abstinence (I blame)
my former self for my
former
transference my baseline
jumper on
poverty the gnome
in your front yard on tough
interior
art
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
I thought you considered me a friend
You were always nice to me
But I am afraid
That I thought wrong
Well, being wrong has become as common
As India failing to win a global cricket tournament
Especially as far as people are concerned
Thanks to my autism
Though I was not aware of it
When I was in college with you all
I was always seen as different
Well, it is true that I am different
But I was never one of you
I was a lone wolf
Left to fend for myself
At the slightest hint of trouble
You never took me seriously
I was always the problem child
Who just needed to "grow up"
And then everything would be taken care of
It also didn't help
That I was a South Indian
Though my Hindi was decent
You always saw me as a "Madrasi"
But I saw you all as human beings
Not fair-skinned North Indians
Anyway, you must understand one thing
Friendship is not a joke
It is a serious relationship
If you can't be friends after college
Then you can never be friends at all
Don't call me a friend
And then take me for granted
Leaving me to drown
In a pool of my deepest insecurities
Which, by the way
Would never have been created in the first place
Had you possessed the guts
To be honest with me
Right from the start
Instead of playing your precious games
Just call me an acquaintance
And be done with it
Full stop
Dec 10, 2022
Dec 10, 2022 at 10:50 AM UTC
"You can join our group," he says,
"But only if you look everyone in the eyes."
I freeze.
Surely he is aware by now that the words
Autism Spectrum Disorder
In my chart were not placed there for fun?
Surely he is aware by now that finger twitching, body rocking,
gaze avoiding
Are not for my frivolous pleasure?
Surely he is aware by now the absurdity of what he asks?
I am autistic.
Burning irritation of the eyes and panic aside,
Staring creepily into another human's eyeballs
Would render group a waste of time, no possibility to listen.
He knows this.
It is his prejudice that keeps him rooted to the spot.
I can feel the weight of his expectations boring into my forehead.
Explaining what it is to ask this of me,
I remind him that drawing this line would be excluding me because
Of my autism.
I tell him he would be losing a valuable participant,
A deep thinker, a creator, an avid listener.
I tell him he would be discriminating,
That I am protected by law.
Oh, no.
He budges not,
For he does not dislike autistic humans
So long as they act like they are Neurotypical,
So long as I pretend to be
Someone I am not.
Sep 11, 2019
Sep 11, 2019 at 12:22 AM UTC
Hello, Autistic Adam here again.
When I was a student
They taught me
That Autistic kids live
In a weird world of their own:
A place of mystery
Too strange to describe:
A bubble universe
Cut off from “normal” folk.
I couldn’t picture what Autism was
Until, to my surprise
I learnt that I myself
Am Autistic.
So hard to describe,
But I can’t read those social cues
Or innuendo.
Do you really like or love me?
Or are you being polite
Even two faced?
I cannot tell.
Does a coffee mean coffee?
Tell me to jump
And I probably will.
For I take things literally.
You say, “I’m in trouble!”
And I think you really are!
Be careful what you say.
I’m so full of fear, anxiety and anger
Yet cannot tell what words of mine
Might anger you.
I cannot understand women…
But oh, that’s normal!
Haha.
But seriously,
People are baffling.
I have no girlfriend
Because I cannot tell
Between (them showing) interest and “being polite”.
The Dating Game is way beyond
My comprehension.
I’ve never asked anyone out
As I wouldn’t know where to take them
Or how to behave whilst we’re there.
Relationships are way beyond me.
What on Earth is that about?
I need a Rule Book…
If she kisses me
Should I propose?
Just don’t get it.
Better get a dog
Or cat.
I am a fictional character
As you know.
But I’m sure I’m a typical “case”.
Even my creator
Has his own Autistic traits.
There’s much of him in me.
And no I’m not referring to God here,
But who knows?
Maybe S\He is Autistic too
To some extent.
Paul Butters
© PB 18\10\2019.
Oct 18, 2019
Oct 18, 2019 at 5:46 AM UTC
I have.....
curly hair
autism
a sunburn
freckles
a black cat
a blister! AAAHHH get a bandaid!!! MOOOMMMYYY!!!
I am.....
left handed
long legged
a girl
funny
My ID card describes me as:
caucasian-whats that mean?
female
minor
blue eyes
red hair
All of this describes me
None of it defines me
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 9:07 PM UTC
For as long as I can remember
My daddy doesn't cry.
Ridiculous, I know,
But I never saw a tear leave his eyes.
When his son got sent away,
My daddy didn't cry.
When he lost his job
Again and Again and Again
My daddy didn't cry.
When his brother died
My daddy didn't cry.
When we found out my siblings had autism
My daddy didn't cry.
When his sister in law died,
My daddy didn't cry.
When his mom died 26 hours later,
My daddy didn't cry.
But when my father realized that he was slowing losing me
When I had failed to tell him how much I loved him
He sat in the car
Tears shining in his eyes
And he begged me
He begged me to give him a second chance.
And as a single tear streamed down his face
I couldn't help but tear up myself
At the thought of all the miscommunication
All the fights and all the misunderstandings
For the first time in forever
I actually felt loved by father,
That first time
I saw my daddy cry.
Nov 30, 2011
Nov 30, 2011 at 9:19 AM UTC
His wails put a knife to my chest
He can't comprehend the world
Where his mother went
Why his father is never to be seen
Why his family is struggling
Why strangers are so mean
Why school is frustrating
Why danger is obscene
His smile jammed the knife deep down
His mother is trying to get back up
But the only thing coming back up
Is her delayed dinner
He can't express himself
Without making a scene
He just wants to be normal
His normality is aware to me
His struggle pulled the knife out
I tell him that I love him
I laugh at his jokes
I pull his legs into bed at night
I check on his medication
I-I-I
How self centered I am
I need to try harder, stop his confused cries
His future helped me close my eyes
Say good night to the helpless
This strange little boy
That I describe in this rhyme
He is my brother
Can't even tell the time
But he can stand tall
When the world decides to fall
Jul 23, 2014
Jul 23, 2014 at 4:48 AM UTC
I don't know what wrong have I done
To deserve so much pain
Always, have I been kind
Yet, have I lost a few friends
Suffered, have I, a rather painful divorce
My marriage was a total farce
However, not at all was I at fault
Never, did I deserve so much hurt!
I don't know what wrong have I done
To be taken for granted by a woman
Whom I loved a lot
She cared for me not one bit
Though she turned out to be an amazing actress
Who pretended to be in great distress
And milked me for all was I worth
Really, was she the worst!!
I don't know what wrong have I done
To be so rudely cut off by a woman
Who always called me her best friend
Never did I think our long relationship would end
In such a brutal manner
Especially considering was I always good to her
How dare she take advantage of my autism
***** her and her Brahminical egoism!!
I don't know what wrong have I done
To be rejected by almost everyone
On a variety of dating apps
Sometimes I feel I am being treated like a corpse
What qualities do I lack?
Why do some people only look at my mistakes
And not the good things have I done?
Seriously, with India, am I done!!
I don't know what wrong have I done
But I am not going to be taken for granted again
***** all of you, thanks to whom I have suffered
There may be a time when YOU suffer
I will laugh at you then
Truly, never again, am I going to be taken for a ride
Because Jesus is on my side
Amen!!
Jun 16, 2024
Jun 16, 2024 at 3:07 AM UTC
It hurts to know
i'll always glow
in ways, i'm special
a slightly cracked shell
is how i feel
makes me wanna kneel
to those around me
like them i wanna be
aware of who i am
alternate choices spammed
i see myself trying
your eyes cause me crying
no sensuality
confused sexuality
we all exist inside
filters of illusion reside
Pieces you shatter
to me that matter
your response after
creeped out flatter
too far i go
more than i know
no more time to waste
stay put in your place
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 10:58 PM UTC
Walter was history's best fisherman -
history's best minnow fisherman.
He combed and cleaned his net
like a lint trap or a summer screen door
so delicate, seaweed fibers, mussel shells.
He fished more of a dance, a twirl
his arms up and down and around and always
spun in the shallows like a waterspout
he would glide his butterfly net through the lake
and capture little fish he placed
into a sand castle bucket filled halfway with water
he would always pour back into lake.
He was strictly a catch and release fisherman.
All the mothers on the beach would stare
at Walter and his water waltz and at his mother
who stood next to him so he wouldn't fall.
It was hard not to stare at Walter
always alone with his aged mother
and he had to be at least a teen by now.
Perhaps it was hard to tell, autism doesn't age well,
but we had been beach regulars for fifteen years
and Walter and his mother had for ten.
The last time I saw Walter he danced and fished.
I laid on the beach with my cousin and we observed
his patterns and his mother his rock who stood there
for ten years with the minnow fisherman.
The next day my own mother cried
more than when her own mother passed
and she told me, she died
Walter's mother died
Even now I stand in the shower skin deep in water
and think about where Walter is now.
I see him in my mind dancing in some bath tub
with a butterfly net in some foster home
without a mother to break his fall.
Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:30 PM UTC
The face and body of a million others
because of the 21st chromosome.
The movements and quirks of a million others
because of a little spectrum.
The testers and medication of a million others
because of a tiny chemical.
Down syndrome. Autism. Diabetes.
The most loving person I know.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC
You all may think
That autism isn't a big deal
Am I right?
Well, when everything goes your way
You are "normal"
Just like everyone else
But the moment things start to go south
As my therapist would say
The brain chemicals would kick in
And you would be trapped in your own world
Fighting the madness
That threatens to surround you from all sides
In the form of a cacophony of loud noises
Different people shouting different instructions
One phone call after the other
Being assigned multiple tasks at once
The list is endless
Of course, the solution is simple
You just need to embrace your autism, don't you?
True, but it is easier said than done
Especially when you tend to forget things
At the worst possible time
Misread a number of social cues
Fail to detect sarcasm
Say the wrong thing at the wrong time
Crack under the slightest signs of pressure
And last but not the least
End up with labels such as ****** and "absent-minded"
Now, do you finally understand
Why autism is indeed a big deal for me?
Oct 2, 2022
Oct 2, 2022 at 8:44 AM UTC
I have disabled myself,
Thinking about you.
Forty three self induced bruises
to the head, to the head
Forty five, forty six
I got that vibe,
That feeling from you.
I start my appointment
At eight thirty two,
Thirty three, thirty four.
Forty eight, forty nine.
It is not the cure
That will help this,
But only you.
Thirty five, thirty six.
Fifty two, fifty three.
So I try to get you
Out of my head...
Fifty two, fifty three.
So that I can be free.
I have disabled myself
Thinking about you,
But now that I am free,
I don't know what to do.
Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
Back in my teenage college years
I was told about “Autistic kids”
Who lived in worlds of their own,
Seeing things through weird and wonderful specs
In social isolation,
Frightening in its completeness.
At sixty six I since have learned about many
Of their “traits”:
Their obsessions, inflexible routines and
Panic
At all change.
Their inability to read
Emotions or social cues
Or innuendos
Or irony.
I have worked with those with Aspergers,
Colleagues, friends and clients –
Indeed with people all over
The Autistic Spectrum.
And the main thing I have learned
In all these years
Is that in my own way…
I am one of them.
Paul Butters
© PB 1\10\2018.
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC