[On Indefinite Hiatus] Autistic Poetry

Poetry written by Autistic people. ON AN INDEFINITE HIATUS.

[antediluvian-ghostwriter]

A sea of white flakes swirl down from a grey-black sky Layer upon layer, an avalanche in slow motion Everywhere the air is full of snow

I shriek and jump and wave my arms And sprint across the half-freezed field Overflowing with thank you thank you thank you

I twirl and laugh through the torrent Beautiful, cold, and overwhelming And I run through the empty spaces Like the world’s worst dodgeball player Letting the coldness cling to my nose and chin and eyes

When I stumble inside the building I run my hand over my hair Smoothing down the tiny water droplets that glisten, already melting

Old warnings play in my ears: you’ll freeze out there But my heart is already yearning To run back into the storm

delight, 12.07.17

[sparklyredflower-deactivated202]

Wings

I joined a group 

Of autistics faeries.

They told me I was welcome there

As one of theirs.

One of the biggest things about being a faerie

Is getting your wings.

And using them.

And being proud of them.

Outside of the faerie realm,

Lie humans, that don’t have wings.

Most don’t try to venture that far

Because humans like to cut faerie wings off.

Yet, most of us brave the human world

At least every once in a while.

We have to hide our wings

Pretend we’re not a faerie for a while.

Considering that I never had wings before,

I thought I was good at hiding them.

But the more I became aware of them,

The more they seemed to show.

I knew what would happen if I let them show.

I knew of the pain that would follow,

Both emotional and physical.

I talked with another faerie about this,

Because I didn’t want to go through the pain.

They had been with me from day one,

They knew that I was struggling.

And they told me something I would never forget.

“You have always had your wings.

You are just noticing them more.

“You try to hide your wings from the humans

Which is understandable, for sure.

But you don’t seem to see what I see.

“I notice that your wings flap when you let your autistic self show.

The more you show, the more you flap.

But, even when you hide your wings,

Even when you think no one notices,

I notice.

“Even when you think you’ve hidden yourself,

Your wings still flap a little.

Being autistic is an innate part of you,

Something you can’t completely hide.

“Don’t worry about your wings flapping,

That’s gonna happen.

In fact, I would rather see your wings flapping,

Because then I know that you are alive and being yourself.

“I guess what I’m here to say is:

Don’t be afraid of a little flapping.

Being autistic is a part of you,

And I (personally) wouldn’t give that up for the world.”

So to all my fellow autistic faeries,

Or other winged autistic people:

Don’t worry too much about your wings,

And, when safe, don’t forget to flap like the wind.

[strangerdarkerbetter]

Overloading: Shopping Trip Edition

Countless clashing colors form the landscape Bodies weave and walk in a disorganized dance Voices mingle together into a growing din Backed by the dissonant symphony of crashing carts, Thundering fans, piercing beeps, a muddled cacophony Perfumes mix with cleaners mix with food mix with…

The scene is set, now let’s progress Weave through the crowds Mind set on the goal In and out quick as can be Eyes to the ground Don’t let them see

One down, five to go Search them out Find the rest Try our best to survive

Eeek, eeek, eeek Mind piercing Can’t ignore Louder Louder Louder Grow the colors Grow the noise Grow the touch

Can’t escape Can’t get away Cover my ears Cover my eyes Try to shut down Move faster Run

They’re all looking Staring Gawking

Eeek, eeek, eeek Can’t think Must escape Too bright Too loud Too much Make it STOP

The screeching fades away Becoming a part of the distance My feet having carried me far enough

Slowly, gradually, senses calm The colors seem less bright The dissonant din becomes easier to tolerate

Having found safety I continue on Finishing my shopping quick as can be

Read more autistic poetry here

[paginatedpoetry]

it was said they loved the stars

It was said they loved the stars:

Enough to carry stardust ever so gently in pockets lined with meteorite shards, wrapped in wax paper for fire-starting, a return to origins.

Enough to try and forgive the father who left burn marks in the wake of their scarring scorching (re)actions Who sharply laid blame at their feet and swore on the flames consuming all the mistakes made

And also enough to face their father and walk away from the words and epithets of (dis)grace and turn their face to G-d instead, found among the shul’s engraved Stars of David And in the Etz Chayim prayer’s high note of A-do-nai,  And in notes before and after, calling upwards

Enough to embrace what is cold and distant to our eyes, points in space where no one could ever reach, the fiery fusion of atoms we can’t get get close to.

It was said they loved the stars It was said they loved the stars, and it was enough. 

December 3, 2017

Keep reading

[antediluvian-ghostwriter]

I woke up in a world that didn’t know me I stumbled around, confused, alone The crowds were thick like quicksand The streets were massive and loud and bright The honking of car horns alarmed my ears And no one would stop To answer my questions No one would stop —

I wanted to go home But home was a hundred years ago And I struggled to find it even in photographs Those photographs of a faded ghost A small and tired creature of habit A voice that had never been loud enough To get above the clamor

decades, 12.03.17

[autisticpoetry]

Is there a way to purchase a collection of poems?

You could probably contact individual poets who have submitted or whom we’ve reblogged to check with them about their works, but we aren’t really in the publishing industry, per se...

[autisticpoetry]

Vertical Chamber Apparatus

Smothered by nothing- Suffocated by air- Starved of everything- In the pit of despair.

God made men from dust- The Devil makes dust of men- A life without love or lust- The screen goes up, what then?

A stranger rushes in- Stabs and grabs your eyes- Reveals your awful reflection- As it comes alive, it dies.

Darkness calls, you’re homesick- Shut your eyes, shut them tight- For a life without light, nostalgic- And shut your mouth for endless night.

Submitted by @fantasybyantheawhite

[chavisory]

Changeling

The human parents, afraid to say I am wrong, tuck me in at night. I watch streetlights shape the ceiling. Sometimes I cry, and sometimes the human child, the stolen child, remembers for me: painting butterflies, pancakes at dawn, her mother's palm. She shares my memories too—patterns o

The human parents, afraid to say I am wrong,   tuck me in at night. I watch streetlights shape the ceiling. Sometimes I cry,

and sometimes the human child, the stolen child, remembers for me: painting butterflies, pancakes at dawn, her mother’s palm.

She shares my memories too—patterns of lichen, chill caves, day-long drips of water, and myself as I was: a tree-root,

an empty burrow, a bat’s shadow. Stolen. I was stolen too. Unformed, I belonged only to myself until shaped into arms and eyes and scream,

given a hairband and a schoolbag. Ballet slippers. The human child, wild and laughing now, she’s always laughing, those dances

around peat-lakes never blister her feet. I’m no longer made from rot and dark, but not human, either. Under a pink duvet, wakeful.

[paginatedpoetry]

the oort cloud

In three hundred years we will know, when Voyager 1 approaches, if the band of icy planetesimals circling our solar system is something we can (p)rove beyond theory And show the place of billions of icy formations is also the birthplace of comets that streak through close enough to perceive I hold stardust in my hand and the rovers and the probes explore other planets  We have always lived to wonder at the vastness of space  We have always lived to try and seek out others -  Films and TV about space, (a new) hope,  rovers of curiosity, destination the stars, origin point  our spirit alive for the (cour)age of the (f)lights of space

[autisticpoetry]

HOMESICK

Home, I know it’s out there Other worlds do exist Maybe I’ve already been there Even if I haven’t, there’s still something I miss Somehow, somewhen, somewhere It longs like a lover for a kiss Crying, like a pen pal with a wish Kaleidoscope of emotion causes me to care

submitted by @fantasybyantheawhite

[virginies-sanctuary-deactivated]

HOW DO YOU MAKE AN OMELETTE? a) you have to crack a few eggs b) you have to leave a few people behind HOW DO YOU COOK AN OMELETTE? a) you have to fry it in oil b) you have to let a few people die HOW DO YOU SERVE AN OMELETTE? a) you serve it with black tea and cream b) you have to kill some people HOW DO YOU KNOW WHICH EGGS TO CRACK? a) i don’t know b) by choosing the burdens unworthy of life ARE YOU MAKING AN OMELETTE? a) yes b) no c) i’m not hungry anymore

HOW TO MAKE AN OMELETTE, virginie., 17/8/17

[virginies-sanctuary-deactivated]

I fell asleep in Acheron to the sound of screeching sirens ceaseless deafening as I floated into Cocytus - hear! hear! the cries of those rested in unrest as I awoke in Phlegethon and lie disturbed in sinister silence of damned souls attempts to drag me back as I depart for Styx for Lethe where the Cocytans and the Phlegethonians will never drink their dissolution in alcoholic camphor and when I awoke in Elysium (after Charon sunk I in Styx’s back) I wished the sirens screamed again

[virginies-sanctuary-deactivated]

yes i’m getting enough sleep yes i’m eating enough yes i’m doing positive self talk and counting to 10 and meditating and all

the worst thing is that sometimes i say i’m fine and i’m actually fine as if the suffering inside of me is too deep to manifest itself as pain oh, is it possible to be cut without bleeding?

[virginies-sanctuary-deactivated]

“But the sky is so black tonight,” they said, “I don’t understand how you can be comforted by it, for even the stars are just little specks in the darkness.”

I don’t think you understand what it means when you’ve spent your entire life in the sun being burnt and blinded that you only feel safe in the night light no matter how scarce it can be.

[inkskinned]

it’s been a while since i got my eyes checked. when he put in the new contacts i almost cried because i could actually see again. the problem is i didn’t realize how bad it could get. like i never noticed i was slowly wearing down. that i was losing things. sure, i couldn’t drive at night, but that was a normal thing. okay, i couldn’t sit far back in movie theaters, but that’s where all the teenagers go anyway. it was fine that i waved to the wrong people and at a distance couldn’t recognize even my best friend. i smiled less because there was less to smile at. the moon is beautiful but after a while even she was blurry. i missed rainbows because i wasn’t wearing my glasses, didn’t bother with the stars anymore, couldn’t find the shapes in clouds others pointed out, started fearing places where i could get separated because i knew i’d be lost completely. somehow i didn’t notice all this because it was so slow that it just happened, this sucking of beauty from every little thing.

“i don’t understand.” she shakes her head when she sees the mess i made of my life. the pieces i scrambled and the parts i broke and how i couldn’t care enough to put it back again. “you know you have depression,” she says, frowning, “how could you just let it get this bad and do nothing?”

[virginies-sanctuary-deactivated]

Barbed wire in my heart make me out of stardust. Throw me into clouds of blue and dusty volatile hue. Write me into seas so deep where solace ends and whiteness howls. If you’re in the dark and say my name I won’t ever return again.

[virginies-sanctuary-deactivated]

O stingy ray of sunlight, what art thou chasing? The land is barren blight where darkness is pacing.

Seas that raise the wind sails, where is your destination? The storm that makes your ships flail is plotting their termination.

Fires that rise the air balloons, why art thou so lively with glee? When the sky is growing pale and looms with precipitate to put out thee?

Little did the fool know who thought themself a wiseman oh so smart, the light was here to out the darkness blow and the seas to divert ships from a stormy row, the flames to drive it’s balloon to the hearth and that he had no faith and thus no judgement in his heart.