I want to sink my sharp nails
Deep into my pale flesh,
Tear the skin from my face
And scream defiance
To my pain
In my mind’s eye
I see black storm clouds
Ripped by steel lightning
And raining blood
Of the silence
With gentle, open arms
Through cold and lonely winter’s night
I dream of far-off days of light
My empty arms embrace the shell
Of hope: I dare not break the spell
Then half-imagined drumbeat pulse
Announces spring, quick buds convulse
And swell, life’s tempo on the rise
I dance beneath these wider skies
My summer days fly quickly past
On sunlight wings too hot and fast
That leave no more than briefest trace
A flash of smile upon a face
And now in fall, my passion spent
Though on my own, I lie content
The long slow light of autumn sun
Keeps warm the heart that you have won
You tune it out and turn away
You’re sure that it’ll keep a day
It really doesn’t seem that bad
Can’t let it spoil the plans you had
You could strike while the iron is hot
But nah, the problem’s soon forgot
There’s better ways to spend your time
Than worrying: you think it’s fine
You say you’d fix it if you could
Well, patch it up, not make it good
It’s hard to quash that nagging doubt
You’re not as skilled as you make out
Prevaricate as problems grow
You just sink deeper, act too slow
While all the time the waters rise
How could this come as a surprise?
The currents swirl, the waves they rip
You try to run but only trip
You left your head down in the sand
Too long. Let others make a stand
Relied on them to fight your wars
Then you’d emerge to take applause
They didn’t win, those stalwart few
Their ranks were missing folks like you
Roots plumb the abyss
Seeking solid anchorage:
World drifts as I sit. Read more
Historically I’ve not often reblogged posts by other writers — in fact it’s probably only about 3 times in all the years. And that’s because I wanted the focus of this blog to be me. But now, with the “rebranding” and relaunch as My Autistic Dance I feel I want to expand what I publish here to include links to other posts that are insightful and illuminating, and principally about autism, such as this one by my dear friend Sonia.
The context for my poem Perfect storm is the research for my Arts Council Funded project – The Museum for Object Research. It isn’t about any one person or conversation, but more about my growing understanding of the ways in which I am disabled – despite being a competent human – by ingrained assumption and the double empathy bind.
Source: Read the whole post on The Other Side here
Hey Mrs Kennedy
There with your OBE
Your shiny charity?
You ain’t that much to me.
If you read what I wrote
You wanna make a note
Don’t sit up there and gloat
You gonna miss the boat.
See what I’m tellin’ you
Ain’t just my point of view
We’re more than one or two
Autistic through and through.
So listen when we say
Your spiel has had its day
We’re dissin’ ABA
Abuse is not okay.
We spotted Wakefield ties
And anti-vaccine lies
You hung out with those guys
Now that ain’t very wise.
We followed all the tracks
Led us to frauds and quacks
We’re threatened with attacks
But we got stacks of facts.
We offered you advice
We tried to play it nice
We thought that would suffice
Won’t make that error twice.
You think we’ve had enough?
You think we’re not so tough?
We live and breathe this stuff
Don’t want to call our bluff.
When you don’t give respect
When you try to deflect
And posture for effect
Twist truth and misdirect.
You pick on one of us
Insult but won’t discuss
You are superfluous
Not even worth the fuss.
You claim that you’re “aware”
But show that you don’t care
We will be treated fair
In schools and everywhere.
To mimic NT poise
Under duress destroys
Autistic girls and boys.
We’re not your little toys.
Don’t want our names in lights
Or fancy ballgown nights
One goal in all our fights
We want autistic rights.
Dissolve in black coffee.
Like shameful genitals.
But is being candid
Really to be compared
To exposing oneself?
Surely that road
Leads to thoughtcrime
My frank words
Corrupt the innocent.