I know there is a protest by Autistics Against Autism and I understand. I, too, object to the way we are all grouped together or treated as if we are a disease that needs to be eradicated. I suppose, since I come from a time before autism was diagnosed and lived in a vacuum, not knowing what was wrong, I appreciate any information that has arisen since the birth of Google. We are all different. This poem is ME! Not Joe Blow, not Jane Doe! My particular experience. Love and Peace to us all…
Autism is standing still while
Everyone runs for the cliff edge
And you want to know why
Before joining them
But the surge pushes you down
And they thunder across your back
And you’re bloody but not broken
Because the rage keeps you sane
Autism is always being chosen
To be
The Cheese
In Farmer in the Dell
The Cheese stands alone
In the middle of the circle
As baby classmates point and sing
And you cry
But the next year you don’t cry
You will never let them break you
At least they won’t know
You care
Autism is getting it wrong when a boy flirts
Confusion from what he means
Interpreted by his ego
Thinking you’re indifferent
To his oh-so-obvious charms
And he hates you
Autism is being nice to a boy
Who seems like a friend
But not realizing
His ego cannot allow someone like you
To be kind
i.e., flirt (must be, he reasons)
And he hates you
For showing interest in his
Oh-so-obvious charms
Yet autism is like everyone else
Loving friends and movies
Books and games
Dreaming of being asked
To the prom
And buying a dress
To transform the lightning and thunder
Into rainbows of love, peace and happiness
Autism is loving sex and drugs and rock and roll
But luckily learning that drugs can take you
Where you don’t want to go
Because you can’t come back
But some nights you think
Maybe that’s not bad
What’s to come back to?
Only thunder and lightning and rain
Autism is when married
Choosing a dysfunctional like you
Yet he becomes an adversary
Family and friends roll their eyes
And laugh when he reveals your secrets
Meant only for him
It’s not like you’re barking like a dog
Or flapping your hands
Everything looks “normal”
But there must be some type of invisible mark
That all can see
Except me
What do they see?
What did I do?
What did I say?
Answers? No, so
Although I’ve never been a head banger
I want to badly butt
My head against theirs
Make them see
I’m like them
I am!
But I don’t know what to say
My tongue gets in the way
Children come
One is finally labeled
“Somewhat autistic”
What does that mean?
No information
Never heard the word before
No idea I am
We’re all so different
But children raised
In the offbeat way
AKA, autistic
And their lives
Get drenched in different shades of rain
Thunder, lightning
Mudslides
What is Autism?
Autism is traffic jams
Oncoming headlights in
A foggy, dark night
Thunder drowning out your heartbeat
Automobile stereo’s bass line ripping through your brain
Autism is thunder in your soul
As rain pours from your eyes
And lightning jerks your strings
Autism is knowing you are safest locked alone
In your room
Where no one can hurt you
But the curse is
Like everyone else
You crave society…
© 2016 Clarissa Simmens (ViataMaja), from my book Miniature Worlds Sublime
IMAGE: zmescience.com
Thank you so much for giving me insight into what autism is like for you. I go have to share this with my friend. Her daughter has autism. Wonderful, clarissa
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Thank you, Daisy. I like the idea of my work helping or enlightening others…
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You have a lot to offer x
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That was beautifully written. I raised a step son with aspergers syndrome, another label under the umbrella. i always wished I could crawl inside his head and see and hear the world as he does and think the way he though with the peculiar mannerisms and his inability to understand the body language of that I took so easily for granted. He’s 30 now and living on his on do the thing he likes most in the world – Being able to work for years with the stage show of The Rocky Horror Picture Show in Las Vegas. In his pictures he is surrounded by laughing people who enjoy his company. i hope he is happy.
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Thanks, Sonni! Sounds like your step son is living a fantastic life, doing what he loves! Years ago (aside from wanting to be a non-druggie Dead Head) I wanted to be the nutritionist/juicing maid for the Stones…LOL, no matter what they inhaled, looks like their DNA kicked in and made them strong anyway 🙂
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Wow, not a page turner, a verse turner, so paced and powerful to the end. Great work, Poet.
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Ah, thanks so much, Steve Simpson! I always appreciate your comments as I appreciate your art and poetry!
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Thank you, Poet. I wish I had more time to devote to social media. I very much enjoy your work but I know my once-a-week mad rush means I miss stuff 😦 .
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Beautifully stated! I have a little cousin with Autism and although I try to imagine what life and the world must feel like to her, this puts in a much better perspective. Thank you, for sharing!
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Thanks, Cheryl! Just you caring about your cousin will go a long way toward her outlook on life!
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I agree. I don’t get to see her often, but she is in my heart and mind regularly. She is so talented that she blows my mind. LOL!
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This s a wonderful poem and helps me gain more insight.
I have a very good friend who discovered he was autistic only last year, aged 37. He is married with 2 children and a high paid technical architect job. But putting that label on seemed to put him in some sort of mental cupboard and he has withdrawn from many of his friend and colleagues.
I loved him as a friend and knew he was different and the diagnosis was no surprise, But its altered him and I feel I’ve lost a friend.
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It is very shocking to receive the diagnosis at that age. I was about the same age and although my oldest son was also diagnosed at the same time, I promptly went into complete denial about myself because I was nothing like him. So fast-forwarding to recently, when I accepted my autism (so much of that was now having the internet and an amazing amount of neurodivergent literature), I “came out” by mentioning it in my writing and lost friends! I never had that many friends, but was stunned that people would reject me. That may be one of the fears your friend is facing. Another can be, at least for me, the guilt that my son is autistic because of my genetics. Perhaps he is worried for his own children? I hope for his sake, and yours, that he will come full circle and open himself up to those who truly care. I try to bring humor into some of the “weird” stuff I sometimes say and do. In some ways, it is a relief to know that I have a reason for it! But I also see that I’m not all that much different than neurotypical people and that is comforting. Thanks for reading and commenting on my poem!
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