Best Autistic Poems
A mazing child full of life
Unconditional relentless love
Touched by angels through the strife
Insightful blessings from above
Struggles with communication
Tries with joyful anticipation
Intelligence beyond the norm
Child of God within the storm
Night after night. Day after day. Lord please watch over her I pray. It breaks my heart and I slowly fall apart. Seeing her sad makes me mad and feel like a bad sister to her even though I try my hardest to make her feel special, keep her crown and glow. The problems she'll have to face, the tears I'll have to erase, the time it will take to make sure she's alright, looking tight, and be there to fight her battles so she knows she got me through any and everything, through the good, the bad, and what the future may bring. My little sister, my other half, something that no one can replace even when we fall, we'll get back up and stand tall. The crazy conversations we share, the games of dare,the time I take to show her I care. She's not my child, she's my sister to be exact and to love and cherish is something we'll never lack. To see the world together, cold nights and stormy weather, always and forever. She's special and one of a kind, someone you'll have to take time to find out her personality, she may be smiling on the outside but stuck in reality, don't know the principality of life itself, so when it comes her way, she'll shrug her shoulders and have nothing to say because she lives day by day and was born this way. But she'll rise higher, she'll set this world on fire and grow one day to build an empire and shine brighter than the sun because she hasn't fought the war of life yet but she's already won.
She’s not right.
She has something wrong with her.
She has a screw loose.
She’s got problems.
What is wrong with him?
How do we fix that?
I am no doctor but….
Having several issues myself, I am
Hypersensitive to these kinds of
Statements.
Yet I hear them all the time.
Yesterday a substitute teacher called
Me, and I figured she was saying this
In front of the entire class, “I am calling
About Henrydexter. What is wrong with him?”
I was instantly ready to run down there
With my sword. When you have been the victim,
You recognize the bullies faster than others.
Written 11-30-2018 Contest: I of the Storm
Sponsor: Maureen McGreavy
You may not understand me or the things I do,
and you may not understand why I don't look at you.
You keep telling me I'm playing with my toys wrong,
and you don't know why I only sing one song.
You want me to go out and play with the other boys,
but it scares me when they make that loud noise.
You don't understand why I am different from the rest,
but everyday for me is another test.
I'm sorry my hand doesn't work that way,
you'll get how special I am one day.
My brain is different in the way I think,
but my ship isn't going to sink.
Even though I'm different, I can still cry,
so it hurts when you ask god why?
You just need to pay a little more attention
to this little boy playing in his own dimension.
I'm sorry I'm autistic,
That I don't fit your expectations,
I'm different, I know,
But that doesn't mean I don't belong.
I may rock,
I may cry,
But I try and try,
To be normal in a world full of expectations.
But I'm different,
I know,
So I'll make my own normal.
I'm sorry I'm autistic,
But I will never change.
Last night my son stirred
between half wake and sleep.
I stroked his soft hair,
And I kissed his small cheek.
He said, “Mummy, these cuddles
tonight were the best”
and wished for forever
with him in our nest.
When a baby arrives
through the heart of their mother,
they’re laid on your chest —
you belong to each other.
There’s no room for choices,
for burnout or fear.
Your instinct is roaring:
just keep them near.
But life slowly loosens
the threads as they grow.
Your heart doesn’t want to,
your mind must let go.
They trust other people,
They want to explore.
New voices will teach them —
And guard every door.
When the nights feel too quiet,
the silence too deep,
I’ll remember that whisper
between half wake and sleep —
how he held me so close
in his small dreaming world,
and for one perfect moment,
love quietly unfurled.
I’m sorry; I’m a little bit autistic. Please bear with me as I try to explain,
but it’s hard to see the world from your perspective, when I’ve only ever thought with my own brain.
It’s wired a little differently than yours is, and that can make us struggle to get on,
which I find can be especially frustrating, when it’s always me who’s told I’m in the wrong.
You’ll notice how I only said a little. You see autism is not quite absolute,
it sits along a scale and can be tricky, when the kind you have is not very acute.
Severe autism is recognised in children, and quickly diagnosed as a result,
this helps the sufferer to be accepted, and supported as they grow to an adult.
A mild case, is often more complex though, as frequently, it can go by unseen,
with the afflicted person being regarded; as arrogant and ignorant and mean.
I’m sorry if I say things you find hurtful, I truly wasn’t trying to offend,
I’ve never had much practice with conversing, as I’m not all that great at making friends.
I’m not overly skilled in holding chit chat, that casual back and forth that people do,
which for everybody else seems very natural, but for me requires too much thinking through.
At many times I just go through the motions, when saying ‘Hi’and asking ‘How’s your day?’
I’ve developed quite a talent now for acting, reciting things the world wants me to say.
And I’m sorry if I don’t quite get your humour, or get muddled up when sarcasm is used,
my mind is set to take things said as literal, and frequently can leave me quite confused.
I’ve always known that I’m a little different, until recently I never realised why,
it’s like, everyone had “social life” instructions, that when handed out had somehow passed me by.
I’m sorry; I’m a little bit autistic. Please bear with me I’m trying the best I can,
and with a little time and trust and patience, I hope that you will come to understand.
She met him at the door and closed the screen.
“Marie is sleeping in the den,” she said.
“She spoke to me today, and smiled a bit.”
He set his package on the patio floor
And sat beside her in the cushioned swing.
“So many years we’ve struggled with that child;
You grasp at straws, a grunt, a grimace, all
The same. Never really any change.”
“The doctor came. She hasn’t been herself,
You know. She let him close enough to touch her.”
“That’s a change.”
“She even left her chair
For him. He thinks it just some sort of phase;
Wait awhile, and she’ll be right as rain.”
“How would he know? We’d never know ourselves
The way she sits wrapped up from toe to chin
In blankets she won’t let you wash. She rocks
And sleeps and eats and nothing more.”
“But now she doesn’t eat. She always eats.”
“And seems to know exactly what she likes.”
“She likes your mother’s cookies—chocolate chip
And eats them by the plate if we permit.”
“How does she know which chip is which?
She throws the store-bought ones across the room.”
“Her taste, no doubt, is just as good as ours.
But now, she’s barely touched a crumb for days.”
“She drank her can of Sprite for me last night.”
He reached into his bag. “I bought some more.
I’ll check on her. She may be thirsty now.”
But in his hands, she saw more than the Sprite.
“You bought another doll—she doesn’t need . . .”
“But this is different. Squishier, and soft.
I thought, perhaps, that she might like the feel,
Although, I guess, we’ll prob’bly never know.”
She looked at him and smiled within herself.
She never knew just whom to pity most—
Marie, forever locked inside herself,
Or him who sat beside her in the swing
And struggled with the agony of love.
He took the doll and Sprite into the house;
In seconds he was back. He handed her
The phone. She caught her breath, and shook her head.”
“You’d better call someone,” he said. “I think she’s dead.”
I began to panic, but it was gone just as quick as it began.
I listend to there mumbo jumbo, while inside there words made me laugh,
the irony that i needed these people to do nothing more,
then repeat what I had just spent four days reading before.
I remember feeling anger, these people where talking about my child!
!
When they where done, they shook our hands,
telling us both it would be ok,
Did they expect me to believe them?
The ride home was better, then what had been worse just hours before,
I could tell we both needed to cry, and not that I could see,
if she did, because all I could do was stair into nothing.
I know I was being selfish not telling her we would get through this,
I guess because I needed someone to tell me,
but neither of us spoke the words.
And again I wonderd why I couldnt cry.
The night passed on, most of which I cant remember,
about two a.m. everyone was in bed,
I grabbed the envelope that they had given us,
it was so heavy from the papers,
how could this be when hes only three?
I rolled my joint, and ran some water,
wishing that man had something simular,
like the girly stuff calgon take me away.
I lit my joint and started to read,
and not long before I realized,
that everything they are saying that makes you autistic,
is everything I love most about you.
And finely I cryed, I just couldnt stop,
tho im sure I didnt want to,
so into this emotion I gave in.
I cryed and cryed, for two hours
I just .....let go,
all by myself inside that tub.
And in a calming way, I felt older
and strangly healed, my perspective had changed.
for the first time I believed it was going to be ok.
Simply just by being proud, that my son is autistic,
gave me a strength i never knew I had.
And again I wonderd if Kim had felt this way,
and I realized what I had lost.
And I had to ask,
Is this what it means to grow up?
This day I awoke, I had spent nights up before,
till the point my body is what gave in.
One would say I was probly depressed,
but I like to think I spent it,
asking myself what I already knew.
I can remember feeling,
love, shame, anger and happiness,
all after opening my eyes,
i wanted to but i couldnt bring myself to cry.
I manged to get dressed,
and while it seemed like forever,
before I knew it,
it was time to go.
The ride there, was drivin in silence,
neither of us realy talked,
the music singing sounds,
that I couldnt realy hear.
I have never felt so alone
and I asked myself...can I do this?
When we arrived, I prepared myself,
only for what I already knew.
they greeted me with honesty,
and a calming I can't describe,
and i wonderd if,
perhaps Kim had felt this way.
They spoke with words they probly didnt think I understood,
but have been through so many tests myself,
now my child was the one,
the one about to be labled.
I had to ask myself "Is this my fault?"
I would like ta say when they told me,
I broke down and cryed,
the truth is I felt nothing,
and I began to ask myself why.
Somebody please cry over this song with me
I Am Who I Am
And I’m Proud of it too
To those who haven’t met me,
It’s so nice to meet you.
I have Autism;
Something that is always with me
In my personality and body,
Something that doctors can agree.
My five senses are increased,
I hear, see, taste and smell things differently.
Even my mind is ‘off course’
Captured by everything around me instantly.
I can be energetic,
I can be easily excited.
Also, sometimes even the smallest things,
Would make me frightened.
I love my parents,
They tell me I’m a gem.
For they are proud just like me,
For who I am.
Finally found out why
I felt so different for years
Why I felt like I was
always outside looking in
Why my communication
skills were never the best
It only took 43 years of
my life for someone
to confirm this for me
That Autistic is what
I definitely am
I don’t see it as a bad thing
Just an explanation of why
I was so different from
everyone else
It explains why I am not
a leader but always
the follower
Which can get you in
trouble just as well
I’m not mad it took
people this long to figure it out
It’s not doctors fault
they knew nothing about autism
in 1987 when I was going
through tests for dyslexia
and learning disabilities
I am autistic and I’m proud
I support those like me
and love to help them out
I am autistic and I don’t care
what other people think
I am autistic so just deal with it
Being a black man with autism is excellent, wonderful, and empowering, too. Being an autistic black man also means pure encouragement, inspiration, and uniqueness. That's how African Americans with autism see the world differently, which is why others should understand. I, on the other hand, realize there's nothing wrong with being an autistic black man, and I'm very proud of that. Seems that I'd like to give real encouragement to all other autistic African Americans in this city and beyond, which should be the case. They can own businesses like their own hair salons, and restaurants, including a soul food restaurant or two, the real works. I'm black, and I have autism, but that doesn't define me in any other way. In fact, I would love to have my own barbecue sauce company one day and bring a lot of encouragement to the autistic African American community, regardless of those heartless obstacles. Even though I'm a black man with autism, I believe that not only can I live a prosperous life just like any other "normal" human being, but I can also go after my dreams of being a successful entrepreneur, and I can do some community-related projects, as well as some autism-related projects. Autistic black people can function in the real world and can also hold down jobs, live independently, and can also walk amongst all of society, just like any other "normal" individual from a different race can. And as for other African Americans with autism, they, too, can be extraordinary, and so can I. And that's exactly how we black people with autism will be able to change the entire world one day at time. I am black, I have autism, and I'm very proud of it, and so are my black autistic brothers and sisters.
"I'M IN HERE!' I WANT TO SHOUT, BUT MY MOUTH WON'T LET MY WORDS COME OUT.
I'm NOT DUMB, I HAVE WORDS TO SAY,IF ONLY MY VOICE WOULD MY THOUGHTS CONVEY.
I SEE YOUR LABOR OF LOVE AND THANK MY GOD ABOVE. I CANNOT READ BUT GOD MAKES ME TO KNOW, HE TAKES CARE OF CHILDREN HERE BELOW, WITH THE GREAT LOVE HE DOES BESTOW.
DON'T LABEL ME AS A LOST CAUSE, WHEN WE ALL KNOW THE SYSTEM HAS FLAWS.
I LOVE YOU DEARLY MY PATIENT FAMILY, AS YOU TRY DESPERATELY TO CARE FOR ME.
I KNOW THAT YOU HAVE A STRONG CONVICTION, PLEASE HELP FIND A CURE FOR THIS UNUSUAL CONDITION.