Best Disabled Poems
He scooped and he packed
He rolled me good and round,
When all was done, I stood there
Only three feet off the ground
I had wondered why...
Why did this teenage boy,
Build me up this way
No bigger than a toy?
No bigger than his dog
In fact, we saw eye to eye,
I looked around for answers
And still I wondered why?
Then I came face to face
With an answer that was clear,
When the boy in the wheelchair
Slowly came rolling near
With his teenage brother
Lending him a helping hand,
He placed a smile upon my face
A smile so wide and grand
My eyes, two big buttons
From Grandma's sewing kit,
My scarf, one of their Dad's
Was striped and hand knit
From their Mom's kitchen came
My nose, a long gnarled carrot,
My arms, two maple limbs
From the family's tree I did inherit
My heart, warmed by the boy
The boy who could not walk,
His eyes laughed when he saw me
Though he could not even talk
No prouder stood a snowman
That towered, oh so tall,
Than me, the littlest snowman
The proudest one of all.
Some people can be so ignorant
I know they're not to blame
They see me in my wheelchair
And say “Aw, isn't it a shame”?
I say “Hello, I’m fine”
And you don't know what to do
Just because I am disabled
Don't assume my brain is too
Whenever you get stressed
You can walk along the beach
With no facilities for the disabled
To me it’s out of reach
I'd like to go on holidays
But I stay at home instead
Because no matter where I go
I need a hoist to go to bed
My bowel and my bladder
Are affected by my medication
It angers me when disabled toilets
Have poor sanitation
On the bus, the driver puts down a ramp
And I can hear you whinge
When your shopping trolley is in my way
And sometimes my wheels impinge
I wait at zebra crossings
And I know my green cross code
But the timing on the lights means
I don't have time to cross the road
My legs may no longer work
But my brain power is perfect
So next time you see me in the town
Please have some respect
If you'd like to know how I am
Don't be afraid to ask
My disability isn't catching
And it isn't a difficult task
I'll tell you how I am
And I’ll ask how you are too
Overlook my disability
It isn’t hard to do
His knees trembled in the slippery cold
Beside the benches dressed with leaves
Mother was coming, yes so he's been told
To wait in an hour by the dripping trees.
Where the Bluejay sang his evening hymn
In the light red blowing of the weary breeze
So he waited hours till the skies turned dim
When the moon hanged idly upon the trees.
But not a sight of her in the blue distance
So he glided across the glass of the snow
To the narrow path of the park's entrance
Where the last velvet hues gently blows.
His heart alarmed the sad tune of despair
He was reminded of his lifelong infirmity
Strolling sadly by on the wheels of a chair
He feared bitter a death in this vast vanity.
He felt on his shoulders a warm embrace
Thawing his fears was her loving face.
My disability is not my weakness
My mind tells me that I am capable
My heart agrees to the sayings of my mind
Yes I am able despite my limitations
Hear me out you people with limited understanding
Hear me out you people who seek better understanding
I’m calling you so that I can add a little bit to your understanding
Disabled, what an inspiration contained by disabled
D o it myself, yes I can
I nverting peoples mind to accept me for who I am
S wiftly move them from prejudice
A dvertise the possibilities of leaving with my disability
B uild those who suffer from low self-esteem
L ead them to joy brought by self acceptance
E nable others to see the bright side of their conditions
D espise none existing shame of being disable thrown
Who is disabled?
Is it me, or is it you?
Should disability be based
On an anatomical stock-take,
Or based on what you can do?
For I can climb mountains,
I can soar through the sky,
And I can slay dragons,
With just a blink of an eye,
I can overcome barriers,
Fight against impossible odds,
Ignore patronising glances
And condescending nods.
So who is disabled?
Is it me, or is it you?
It is completely subjective,
It’s just your point of view …
THE DISABLED VET
Many wars have come and gone
These wars took men away from home
Some of them did not return
But the memory of them will always burn
Deep within this country's heart
These valiant men became a part
Of what secured this nation's might
That we may rest at ease each night
But what of those who did come back
Maimed, disfigured, and not intact
Perhaps a leg or arm is gone
Perhaps an eye or twisted bone
What can we do for this special vet
We want to help some way, but yet
We find it hard just what to do
To show him we know what he went through
Try to imagine how he must feel
The pain and suffering will never heal
It might have happened on the march to Bataan
At the Battle of the Bulge, or Vietnam
No matter where it all took place
For the rest of his life, he'll have to face
The disability that you can see
Which he sustained for you and me
So when you see one such as this
Don't turn away and pretend to miss
The look on his face you should have met
Take time to notice the Disabled Vet
14 February 1995
Injured from jumping on bandwagons, he can no longer march to a different beat
Oct. 9, 2016 For Silent One's Funny One-Liner Contest
Growing Up
by Robert Austin Allison
When I was just 4 years of age,
I was stuck in the crawling stage.
I had already started talking,
But I hadn't yet started walking.
When I walked - my leg turned in,
Mom knew something was wrong right then.
"Mommy It Hurts" I would plead and beg,
So the doctors x-rayed my leg.
When my sister passed away - Your
world seemed at its end,
Then the doctors said I'd never walk again!
The specialist said I had a bone disease,
By the name of Legg-Perthes.
The doctors kept giving you the same old lip,
But the specialist is who x-rayed my hip.
The specialist said I would walk again,
But the bone over my hip was paper thin.
I had to wear a cast for a while,
But now we had a good reason to smile. :-)
Remember my picture and write-up in the Commercial News?
I was almost five and could finally wear real shoes!
The shoes in the picture had a metal bar in between.
Kids at school poked fun at me and were so mean.
The special shoes I wore - they were no fun.
I had to crawl up stairs one by one.
Going down stairs - I had no fear,
'Cause I had to go one by one - on my rear !
Hope this gives you a glimpse into my life Growing Up.
Keep going and never give up! Thanks for reading.
Comments? Suggestions? Let me know. Thanks!
Cripple
Nature made me incomplete
She failed to give me two good feet
The left one’s fine,
It’s well in line
But the other is rather bittersweet
It twists around to a great degree
A much disgruntled employee
Of a brain as quick
as a lightning stick
But useless just below the knee.
A childhood spent in pain and traction
And futile physiotherapeutic action
Didn’t help a jot
just hurt a lot
To the surgeons evident satisfaction
“Crippled crippled look he’s lame
Hop-along Cassidy is his name!”
I died inside
hid and cried
hung my head in mortal shame
Very cruel the other kids could be
jeered and laughed and bullied me
Until I wondered if
God had blundered
And so resolved to go and see
I did my best to meet my maker
But became a recuperator
In hospice bed
Far from dead
A suicide impersonator
There came an angel in disguise
A teacher who didn’t instantly despise
Nor ridicule
A crippled fool
But tried instead to empathise
She gave me books and made me read
Seeing clearly an inner seed
As yet unfilled
underskilled
But glowing there, a burning need
She opened up my narrow mind
Allowing me to leave behind
A crippled past
A plaster cast
That held me in it’s prison bind
Now I write with creativity
And with much publicity
bathed in admiration
bought in proliferation
treated with tender sensitivity
And though I have a leg still game
It seems that popularity and fame
Make folk forget
My foot’s offset
And I am still inherently lame
He rides his wheelchair like a racing car
The rainbow colours blending into one
He grins his infectious grin, his wide mouth
welcoming and warm
He stutters, his sentences an intricate mess of
words that won't come the way he wants them to
And Tourette is not HIS name, but all the same
it makes him a wondrous one to view.
He doesn't understand most jokes, so serious!
But laughs uncontrollably at his own pun
So fun! But one must love his beautiful hair
His green eyes, and everliving optimism
I know him well, from the inside out, so proud
is he. Remember well! This does not define
the him he is, I live with him day in, day out
Because you see? I do not notice disability.
For me he is as normal as can be, for I am he
I live with me, and disability, and poetry.
***
4th Place in Contest: In a relationship with a dis-ABLED person - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: W. Thomas Markham
When buying milk and bread I almost dropped dead
Because when I looked at the labels they read
The bread may contain wheat
And topping that feat
Was that the milk may contain milk, so it said
A soldier's mistake
crippled, one body, one soul
forever, scarred so
VERILY I PRAY TO JESUS YAHWEH INCLUDING ALLAH ITS BEEN TWO YEARS NOW WHEN BIDEN AND ALL THE HORRORS SEVERE THREATS DURING COVID OUR LIVES IN SHAMBLES AN YET DOMESTIC TERRORISTS RIPPED OUR FLAGS MORBIDLY BREAKING INTO OUR HOME WE HAVE SPENT OVER 3000 IN NEW LOCKS LOCK SMITHS SECURITY CAMS THE JAN 6TH NEIGHBORS BUST THEM OUT IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT THEY CRAWL OVER FENCES PUT KEYSNIN THE DOORSBTO MAKE QUICKSET KEYS TO ENTER OUR HOME CIRCLINGBOUT APPOINTMENTS ON OUR CALENDAR SO THEY KNOW WHEN TO STROKE TAMPERING WITH MY VIETNAM VETERANS MEDALS OUR MORTAGE BANK INFORMANTION MEDICAL INFORMATION I SUFFER I SUFFER MENTAL ILLNESS PTSD TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY MY HUSBAND AS WELL REACHING FIR MY BIBLE IT'S NOT RIPPED OR FOLDED THESE TERRORISTS ARE BOLDLY MERGING WITH THE SAME DOMESTIC TERRORISTS BITTER OVER MY AMERICAN POETRY MY GOD ITS DEVASTATING THESE ARE INSURGENTS BULLIES COMMITING HOME INVASION EXTORTING OUR PEACE HERE IN AMERICA GOD BLESS AMERICA
retired beautician
arms, elbow deep in shampoo
volunteers daily at the local elder care
residents line up
three doorways deep
down the hall
waiting their turn
at free furbish
she donates time and energy
knowing that she may be
the only outsider
they've seen or heard all week
she chooses her words with caution
none flow slipshod off her tongue
she goes home, strangely satisfied
May 3, 2023
Refining Consciousness
Unseeking Seeker
a refining of the attribute of poor self-esteem
on the part of the residents as well as the beautician
Imprisoned in a body
That I cannot control
Unable to communicate
Incomplete, but I am whole
Relying on my caretakers
To supply me with the care
I can’t look out for dangers
And dangers that are there
I may not know the language
And cannot learn to write
And every time I take a step
It’s an enormous fight
I may not be your equal
But I am still alive
Deserving of compassion
For happiness, I strive
So please do not discard me
And offer me a chance
Because my story matters
And I have grander plans