Beauty, Breaking, and Choosing

Paint me a picture

of what tomorrow has to offer

children rejected at distant borders

young wives lose budding husbands

to filthy coffins

paint me a picture with the blood

of aborted fetus

paint me a picture with the anger

of disbelievers

in the White House

where Trump says any and everything

paint me a picture with their tears

screaming, shouting for their voice to be heard

dear child, he cannot hear you

not us, not today

our world is cast into the fray

nuclear weapons are too easy a choice

but who cares for the average Joe?

how much does his voice cost?

what about his vote?

paint me a picture with the sins of blacks

and law enforcement

intertwined in a death game of the ages

breaking and being broken

Eric Garner was another token

and we all bought the lie with his dead body

how long will it go on

why is it the autistic that rallies you to the call

I’ve got enough of my own problems

my own pitfalls to maneuver

but I paint you this picture

riveting roulette of reckless

humans are so capable of beauty

humans are so capable of breaking

humans are so capable of choosing

what will you do

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To Envy The Butterfly

Free me from the shackles

That’s my only wish tonight

Let the lightning strike these bonds

and let me feel the sunlight

Guilt and misery upending my heart

Desire to cure this wretched brain tears me apart

I wish I didn’t love you

I wish I didn’t see you

then I would’ve never known

I bleed when I’m without

but my life begins to turn around

but my brain needs to cure the throb

so my future gets robbed again and again

I’m swimming in my own creation

and all I can see is the valley floor

the blue sky is no more

the voice of reason is choked beyond relief

it’s just me, baby

me and my broken feet

me and my haunted dreams

poetry is what you see

but the tears stay this side of the screen

I’m jealous of the butterfly

her freedom is my envy

I’m jealous of the thunderstorm

the finality of her thunder

could be within me

every time I hear my name

I die a little inside

the menial joy, the everlasting pain

I wish I didn’t love you

but here I am listening

listening to you again

 

Am I Just Fucked?

I don’t have anxiety

I become afraid when you’ve caught me in sin

I can stare you in the eye

I do it to your girls every night

I can hold a conversation

because the people I watch most don’t speak

I don’t gain weight

I lose my strength with every release

I don’t pray

My hands are always clasped together

when you’re not looking

when you are

I just need to do it quick, just one more time

look how far I’ve fallen

I lay with the vagabonds

and call them father

I grope the rank, stretched pussies of whores

at least, in my mind

for a night

multiplied by eleven years

I’ve forgotten hope and horror

faith and fear

just let me gaze your naked scars

that’s all I want for Christmas this year

I don’t need a real woman

I just need a link

I don’t need a real relationship

I just need to dream

I’ve become something far more terrible

than anyone ever thought I was

I’ve shunned every hope of a lover

SF, TL, look what I’ve done

do I have Aspergers

or am I just fucked?

Morning Glory

today is tomorrow’s

yesterday

the circularity

is the amazing

yet the intricate differences

are what make it so intriguing

you may find the same thing

but never the same place

or time

morning glory

becomes evening dread

what will I wake to

if anything, again?

Dry Heaving Seasick Lullabies

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My poetry

is for sailors and captains

with troubled thoughts

the nooses and broken stools

with self esteems to match

the rainbows, the puzzles

and the misfits in between

the native, the foreigner

and border crossing dreams

the misconstrued woman

who raises her children alone

and the father who leaves his home

to serve his country

rappers may have gold, athletes green

but don’t forget the kids working at McDonalds

is the American Dream within their reach?

the white under the bridge

the black leaving the Oval Office

the Indian Chief

and the Japanese who sell their daughters

to make a living profit

My poetry is for all

under the sun

to storm the castle

and take the world back

overdose it

give it a heart attack

and wake us from the slumber

we’ve been trapped in

for so long

My Poetry Is

 

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My poetry

is long awaited sunset

on a lover’s winter night

My poetry

is a flashlight on the entrails

of the horror film called Life

My poetry

is a camera

on the heart of Titanic

Beautiful

but tormented

Acclaimed

and cursed

My poetry

is an anchor

and a mast

a tsunami

and a covenant

conviction

from the conflicted

moaning

behind near perfect diction

My poetry

is the other side of the railway tracks

The backside

catching all the jack

Telling my truth

emasculates me

to that of a bee

giving little

but losing all

so you might avoid

where I’ve stumbled

and crawled

My poetry may be autistic

from hands suddenly active

but the lips are rigid

and mind narrow

My poetry may be saddening

inspirational

or nothing to you at all

but it’s my lifeline

brink

brink

breaking

that’s my heart aching

and another poem

that needs your saving

 

 

 

Sick Of The Autistic

I’m just sick

of the autistic

genius are some

interesting are none

ruining my world

causing my advances

to become undone

stimming is gross

do it somewhere else

pleasing yourself

to lower anxiety

you have less than none

in sympathy from me

you broken and breaking

mentally divergent fool

no program or grant

could ever amount

to the reality that you can’t

compete with me

don’t lie to me

they say be anything

but you’re nothing but a nuisance

to us

don’t fuss

just jump

and return to us our peace

who cares about your broken pieces

I’d taste just as sweet

if you weren’t analyzing so much

cut and bleed

stoop and scream

die and dream

you’ll never make it on your own

don’t try to be a hero

and why be a slave

when you can be a fraud

The Autistic Man

WAMTAC

No one considers

The plight of man

The autistic man

Cunning but curious

At the things he must do

To feel such emotion

Power and powerlessness

In the palm on control

He never knew

We grow up as outcasts

Because we don’t know

How to play

Special interests dominate

What we think, do

And say

Selfish we must be

To put out of our minds

Everything

Except for this magical thing

We cannot seem

To do without

Our posture is funny

As is our fashion sense

The way we hold our hands

Or stare into the crowds

 

We may be silent

But in ignorance of our presence

Breaking normality

We speak loud

Growing up takes a toll

No friends in school

Or very, very few

Unable to be ourselves

Or else attacked

By you

Who don’t recognize

The beauty

In neurological difference

The possibility

With our magic

Exponentially endless

But we keep it locked away

Hoping to survive

Another day

Before you discover us

And the mask

Is stripped away

Love is equally understood

But not in finding another

Who thinks the same

Frightened by bare honesty

Ashamed by difference

And brain washed by culture

That they need a strong

Muscular

Out going man

They ignore us

Laugh at our advances

I see these things

And know them

Because I lived them too

I will never be accepted

By the majority of you

Consider the plight

Of the autistic man

And ask yourself

If all there is to one

Is what you see

How can you ever accept

The infinity

That will set all beings fee

I don’t know what the world

Will to do us

I don’t know if you will ever

Have what we want

But through this poem

Being read by you

No longer can you say

I never knew

Lies Swirl Down Your Throat

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I don’t ever take credit

for what I do

I won’t ever take credit

for what I’ve done

I’m just a sinner like you

under the eyes of a watchful sun

broken and bewildered

I claw at every day

one day I’ll break the ribbon

one day, when I find my way

compliments can fall

for hours they may laud

but as long as I’m true to myself

I’m free from it all

Stares don’t ignite

anxious flames alight

foul tempers run amuck

but in carefully placed glances are stuck

because I’m not who I was

this time last month

so kiss that bottle

and let the lies swirl down your throat

because they choke at my indignation

in the rear view goes their exclamation

I feel free from the weight

and they can never hold me down

because while I feel alone

my friends aren’t far now

when the reign is on a rout

stillness comes on a single cloud

and confidence is restored

hear me loud

 

This Is For The Aspies

 

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(As of now, this is my favorite poem I’ve EVER written)

This is for the aspies

Locked way in their rooms

Drawing, writing, reading, singing

Trying to fight off the anxious meltdown

Sure to come soon

This is for the aspies

That couldn’t get homeschooled

And had to suffer in public school

I cant imagine what that was like

And if you got through, thank you, but it’s not right

This is for the aspies

Who wear the same outfit everyday

And flap their hands when excited

I see the stutters, stares, and stumbles

And I love it

Because this is for the aspies

That don’t get the recognition they deserve

I’ve seen the hands and heard the tongues that produce beautiful words

Works of science, art, and math

Or maybe something simple like just making their own path

This is for the aspies

You never see, but always find

Too anxious, too shy to notice the time

They’re there, but won’t trust

Their own voice

This is for the aspies

The ones that can’t find love

Or don’t know what to do with it

You’re amazing no matter what they say

No matter

This is for the aspies

I’m crying for you, I love hearing you

Because my own home is yours

Connected and tired of the correction

Your home is mine

This is for the aspies

Broken but not without fight

Or riding free, with everything going right

This is gospel for us all

Don’t let the outside take our life