Ben Shapiro, Milo Yiannopoulos, And The People Behind InfoWars Inspired Me To Write This

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where do I stand

on a world at war

please, there’s no peace

and I don’t need a piece of the pie

that mass media lie

police officers die trying to protect us

the badge is just for show

but the love inside their hearts is not

the trust to serve can’t be bought

neither is the want

for a better America

we kill our babies without regard

and electrocute animals in “safe” ways

there’s nothing humane

bashing cows brains in

unless you’re insane

and we are

politics tearing families apart

propoganda has us building arks

and it’s dry as a well

Trump did this, Melania did that!

look out, Russia’s on our backs!

look what really matters

how many families lose their laughter

when their child gets gold into slavery

true bravery isn’t coming out the closet

this isn’t 1969

true bravery is standing

when everyone else sits

Kaepernick thinks he’s slick

he wasn’t an activist till he got benched

he’s part white

what struggle?

he made 14 million to throw shitty passes

these black rappers talking about green

but what about these boys in the streets?

no leaders but them demons

you think Barack Obama was a leader?

letting thugs burn down cities

they can call me racist

but somebody better stands with me

stand up to illegals taking our jobs

stand up to muslims that take the lives of others

especially the women they mutilate

(God bless those mothers)

and gays they throw off roofs

stand up to the blacks

that loot, burn, and riot

I’m not angry, but I will fight it

until we win our freedom back

there’s a war out for your mind

and ya’ll keep swinging at low cutters

Alcides Escobar, you’re joke

you’re slow, blind, easily provoked

Eric Garner was breaking the law

Trayvon Martin was breaking the law

Michael Brown was breaking the law

Castile was not, so I’ll stand with you there

but for all the criminals, their fate was fair

always talking about being free

but you’re nothing but slaves

America disgusts me

and this is why

 

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Real Talk

 

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Criminal minds dance on the airwaves
telling the minorities that they’ve come to save
all the forgotten, all the lost peeps
always a shot away from 6am news
on these dark streets
you can feel the beat
of a glock nine
or a car crashing into a stump
oh, is it time
for another riot
no need to buy it
smash the windows, loot the church
real life Empire
nowhere able to retire
cause my daddy never taught me how to work
just work the system
take the cash don’t worry
who’s givin
givin head
these girls I see
three babies already
but she ain’t even seventeen
what’s going on
with the black community
growing up
I didn’t understand
but now I see
that honestly
we’ve lost sight of who we ought to be
we write music
selling drugs
throwing paper
but where’s the glory
for the creator
where’s the honor
in a father
who runs the streets
forgets his daughter
she’s in a pageant
I’m glad to say
but he never knew it
couldn’t remember her birthday
and by the way
I know it’s not right
but this just happens to be my life
so angle the sights
on the intruder
can’t find me
I’m in the future

Sometime Long Ago

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sometime long ago

when the house was always hot

and I’d stare out the windows 

to taste the tip of a glorious breeze

or when the winter snows came

and I’d bury my head underneath comforters

and watch Jamaal Charles highlight videos

sometime long ago

when I was skinny, reckless, and angry

and I’d stare at the plaster pour

from the walls I’d beat senseless

until I was sure they felt as much pain as I

or when I had ignored my anxious tendencies

and my parents scolded me for something I couldn’t control

when I cried until my nose ran red

and I was sure I had a pussy instead of a penis

sometime long ago

when I refused to go out

I’d miss god, family, and the restoration of Jerusalem

if it meant I didn’t have to show my face

mu ugly, zitty, scar-ridden face

or when people would talk to me

and I’d just look away

hoping, praying, that if I ignored them enough

they would go away

sometime long ago

when I didn’t know who you were

and I’d spend my nights looking at women

I never should have known

I was like, six, and I just didn’t know

it’s okay to look at pretty women, right world?

I’m 18 and now I see

the pain of my past will always live with me

watching my father leave

friends leave

my world is always collapsing

 

now I realize

that sometime long ago

can be just that

if you close your eyes

let the scars burn

the blood dissolve

eventually the cocoon falls off

and what’s left is the most beautiful

butterfly anyone’s ever saw

 

 

 

 

I’m Sorry You Birthed An Autistic

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I’ve been called a lot of names during my years

jerk offs with egg heads for avatars

who never knew my wishes or fears

they didn’t care what I needed, or how I felt

just about the life they had been so unfortunately dealt

I’m so sorry you birthed an autistic

this isn’t the dream you wanted

but the drugs your partner did years ago

now have you haunted

I’m so sorry you have to live with an autistic

it makes you look bad, I’m sure

hand flapping and foot stomping certainly detracts

from your fake bravado and made-up demure

I’m so sorry you have to be seen with an autistic

you don’t look so cool now

when the person beside you covers his ears

at loud sounds

I’ve spent years feeling sorry

for people who care nothing about who I am

just a cute word they can use to impress friends

when chance shakes hands with a plan

just something to make dad feel ashamed about

for not noticing earlier, even though you yourself

no nothing about

my condition is a roadblock in your normal lifestyle

and you’ve cussed me out for planning things out

which, surprise

takes me a little longer while

but it’s okay, don’t worry you

I just keep it all inside

you say you had a hard day

if only you knew

invisible mountains mount heavy costs

until the heart struggles to beat

and the spirit finally declares she’s lost

slowly soul husband carries lifeless vessel

to rowboat tied to a dock

and under his arms he nestles her bosoms

and cries long into the night

the mermaids are bitter, hearing a song

more melancholy than theirs

and fish swim upside down in sadness

while the octopus is surprised

at the depths the chorus finds him there

when strength is breached

and the bridge does sleep

on ears run aground

only then does the struggle of a poet

become exponentially profound

 

 

Autism Awareness Month Post One: It’s Not Enough To Be “Aware”, you MUST be “Active”

 

For those of you that didn’t know, April is Autism Awareness Month.

In spite of that, you won’t find any puzzle pieces on my blog.

“But Devereaux, you have Aspergers! You’re ON the spectrum. How could you?”

Easy answer: the puzzle piece is, to me, a derogatory symbol. Associating those on the autism spectrum with the puzzle piece assumes it’s US that are the weak links, it’s US that need rearranging, and it’s US that need fixing. On the contrary, it is non-accommodating neuorotypicals that break the chain, it is they that need rearranging, and it is they who need to be fixed. We are normal, functional human beings and if there’s anyone that needs to get their eyesight checked, it’s everyone BUT us.

Tonight’s post is a poem I wrote about acceptance of those on the spectrum, but a piece specifically about my stance against the puzzle piece is in the works.

Enjoy!

Silent breathing

on keys so cold

walking on long thought rhymes

until the night gets old

clean up my mind

and throw out the trash

adding words, but subtracting pages

damn why am I so rash?

putting pen to paper

and then paper over paper

as I delve deeper

into the autistic layers

and no, I’m not doing anyone a favor

but giving you truth and honesty

so that hopefully you’ll join us

and follow me

on my Aspergian path

while I have my moments

I rarely make you laugh

I’m not a fan of humor, to be quite frank

because something as simple as the difference

in thinking

has put me at the lowest rank

of the social totem pole

made me an outcast

and target of any and every Internet troll

these words are dangerous

for they are the seal of my rebellion

and the sword I use

and may be used against this felon

so into the night

I will run

hiding out amongst feverish doubt

until the summer sun

and all my people, those like me

have finally

won

(Note: If you have a post/poem regarding Autism/Aspergers that you’d like to share, email/tweet me and I’ll be glad to post it. For this month only, because, it’s not enough to be aware, you must be active, and sharing is a great way to do that)

Just Bring My Anna Back

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You were riveted in delicious greed

to see her pale green eyes look your way

but quaking when another caught her sight

I was shorter, fatter

and much less attractive

but we fought the same fight

so she floated past you

and took my hand

our veins overdosed on the same light

anger overtook feeble continuity

and shattered your glass

while the other gents, at your immaturity, gave a hearty laugh

eight months later, I gave my heart

she gave her hand

and into the unknown we ran

but you never gave up

never gave up the taste

and someone else’s love you decided to chase

one night

dreams full of doubt

the flame went out

she did nothing to you

and is nothing for you

but your courage is weak

and intelligence you lack

snow on the tracks

and blood on the path

just please bring

my Anna back

 

Fifty Shades Darker Than Dakota’s Dreams

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Through the shades

of my words

you see the pain

You feel hurt, you feel soaked

in the wake of fear and shame

An acidic rain

of biblical proportions

when I cannot live as you expect me to

so I go through the motions

just to impress you

but I hurt me

every time I put on the smile

I choke this soul

with every extra mile

walked to satisfy your needs

and from the struggle I bleed

and apparent weakness you see

but it’s not because of me

and it never was

I used to want you to accept me

and so I did anything

that would seem to dignify my presence

but after being let down

and diminishing my value

I’ve learned my lesson

Nobody cares about us

until we do something great

but by then, we’re probably dead

the feeling of being alone

isolated from fellow human beings

To depression, and far worse,

we’re led

and no matter what we say

or what we do

we’ll never matter

never matter to you

Shake me down

search my soul

but I’m carrying nothing

but a bad attitude

and hate crimes towards the belligerent

and inconsiderate towards autistics

I Take Your Equality And Stick It Where The Sun Doesn’t Shine

aspie

 I don’t believe you

and it’s not hard to see why

You all claim to be inclusive

but judging by your treatment of us in the classroom

it’s clear that’s another of your lies

Failing to teach to the strengths of all your students

you lose ones that struggle with forty peers

so nine to three becomes useless

and the threats on the stalls add to their fears

And how about friendships?

You’d rather have ten see-through, silicon barbie dolls

than two that tell you that the makeup isn’t helping

You’d rather rub your ego between the ears

and distance the one who really cares

but doesn’t show it

and gets left home the day of the fair

And the adults? You guys are full of sick shit

Date our girls just because they’re disabled

and capable of frisky things in bed

Curse your life, curse your genitals

and I hope you never wed

And some never get that chance

because they’re too emotional

too easily cracked

and in sensuality they might lack

but in common sense and honesty

they’re overflowing, along with creativity

and that’s damn good enough for me

The workplace isn’t any better than the previous two

and people are quick to turn on you

if you don’t “play the game”

We don’t play games, we don’t tell “little white lies”

(Lies aren’t tangible objects, so they have no color)

We are honest, we are direct

We’re to the point

A blank check

Our bluntness hurts

your tiny worlds of useless chatter

and IQ-lowering small talk

I wish it were small,

and didn’t go on for hours the way it does

when I don’t just get up and leave

And you can believe

that we’re just “rude”

along with the idea

that we’re always in a bad mood

Just another page in the trilogy

of these neurotypical crooks

 

 

 

Purging The Disdain Of Disability and Disorder, Even If I Die

 

 burning-tree

Burn the people who hate you

burn them all

Their homes are dens of witches

Cut them off

Their children are the offspring of robots

Mangle every wire

Force fed through tyranny

lies, manipulations, and coagulation

of non-stop greed

but with fire and will

our people, hiding in the midst of crusades

will be freed

Burn the books

that say we are not good enough

The words are poison from vipers

united to drown out our sounds

Their institutions are whore houses

where big bosses come to play

We are children, we are adults

and we can live just as you claim “life” should be

In the dark they will be drowned

They don’t know what we do in the dark

the blueprint is just being laid

They don’t know what we say in the dark

with the muses we communicate

But in time, when the clock strikes three

we unleash war and lighting quick fatality

to your rules, to your ways

to “here’s what you should do on this day” and

“you can only join us if you act this way”

Life is for all

not just those who look you in the eye

not just those

who stay up all night

not just those

who have a different girl every day

Not just those

who always knew how to play

If I die tonight,

then let these words guide you

If I die tonight,

let their expectations

be their condemnation

If I die tonight,

be rigid, be painfully honest

It breaks up their small talk,

and destroys their chatter

If I die tonight,

write your book

your poem

Discover

the next planet

or Universe

Compose

the next masterpiece

Sing until they box your ears

Be your autistic, aspergian, rigid, socially struggling,

bad handshake giving, party pooper self

because to be you

is the greatest gift

and the deepest wound

they cannot heal

 

Just Because It Was Bad Doesn’t Mean It Wasn’t Beneficial

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Old songs

traverse paths so long

Long ago, seeming to be the best way

they robbed you blind

stabbed you in the heart

drank the blood

and took everything but your life away

You gotta live with more

than battle wounds

and traces of war paint

You have to live

with real wounds, too deep to relay

real holes in this breakable skin

Maybe the rape was a punishment for your sin

or maybe that’s what the therapist wanted you to believe

Stupid white jacket and fancy car

she’ll go home, pretty and happy

and plenty of money in her ceramic jar

It’s easy to show the way

from a castle on a mound

but harder when you actually live the life

and everyday is spent retreating from the battleground

Life kicks your ass

nine times out of ten

then sends out scouts

just in case you didn’t get the lesson

“Oh, you’re doing fine, just keep believing!”

Easy for you to say, it’s not your arm that’s under this knife

bleeding

People are hilarious, just comical

thinking a pill, or a diet, or exercise

will cure the ill

“People with aspergers just need more practice around people”

The fuck?

Did your clearly non-existent brain get run over

by a twenty-two ton freight truck?

You can’t practice

late night shivers or midday fears

of a birthday party

or get-together

that’s unfortunately so near

You can’t prepare

for anxiety

despite speaking politely

and wearing nice clothes

they make fun of you

because “playing the game”, you just don’t know

People who seem to have all the answers

are the furthest from the problem

and when shit hits the fan

mysteriously, you can never call them

They don’t have the balls

to live in the midst of raging, internal fear

They don’t have the guts

to swallow anxiety, and play nicely

day after day, for seventeen years

I’ve left people behind

Not because of hate, but I just don’t have the kind

of mind to hide my weakness

Be the Charming

to your Cinderella?

You’d find my social graces alarming

and in a crowd, I’m speechless

Folie et deux

you, my heart and you, my head

Every step

I dread