Long Autistic Poems
Long Autistic Poems. Below are the most popular long Autistic by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Autistic poems by poem length and keyword.
I carry music folded in my chest
Like winged light sleeping in a sheltered place,
A single sound can wake a thousand stars
And every silence holds a special place.
I speak in numbers—clean and luminous—
Where sums fall into order like the tide,
The calm, exact obedience of truth
That never falters, never shifts aside.
I keep the past as if it were still warm,
Each hour preserved like petals pressed in glass;
No moment truly dies within my mind,
The way it does for those who let things pass.
And some are born with language in the blood,
I hear the ache behind the spoken word,
I shape the unsayable into breath,
And give a voice to all we never heard.
The world calls this my miracle of the mind,
Yet little knows the cost of seeing so—
To feel too much, to carry too much light,
To stand where deeper currents always flow.
I do not seek the praise of crowded rooms,
My gift unfolds in solitude and flame;
The work itself becomes a quiet prayer,
The truth I serve forgetting about fame.
Through music’s fire, through memory’s long ache,
Through measured stars of mathematics spun,
Through poetry that binds my broken speech,
My scattered fragments gather into one.
And what I give is not just skill or proof,
But ways of seeing I had never known—
I widen what it means to be alive,
And make the human condition my own.
As I watched the news the last few days
thinking this can’t be the world the creator designed
as I see more of our people murdered
Asia crossed my mind.
Asia was a student I taught many years ago.
She was autistic and she was blind.
I like to think she taught me as much as I taught her
and I’m forever glad our two lives intertwined
Asia was constantly talking to herself
a continuous one-sided conversation running through her head.
To interrupt her musings I would sneak up, sit down close to her
and repeat the things she said.
She would stop, listen and smile then softly begin to sway
and when her shoulder met with mine
“Is that you Yerman?” she would say.
I would tell her it was me and as I encroached upon her space
she would reach her hand up slowly and gently feel my face.
She didn’t care about my color, my age, my sex…these things she could not see.
She only cared by using her hands that she was feeling me.
I remember how she’d laugh…
I wondered if it was because my disposition was so sunny
or…after using her hands as eyes
it was my face she thought felt funny.
But this is how we taught each other…I used my eyes and helped to set her free
while she taught me in her blindness you don’t need eyes to see.
And as I watch today how people hate…how with words and guns their hate’s unfurled
I wish there was less hate…less guns
and more Asia’s in the world.
Perhaps closing our eyes and opening our hearts is the solution…
is the key!
Perhaps being blind to our differences
is the only way to see.
Merry go round a circle of dreams
Friends are found as we journey
To find a place where you can esteem
Climb magic mountains of hope
Where you grow like a tree
(Chorus)
A———————————A is for Amazing
U———————-You are amazing to me
T——————————Teal timeless faces
I————————I see you in everything
S——————-Sunny sails singing songs
T——————Teal tears never shed alone
I—Indigo eyes black brown blue or green
C——See courage beauty autistic dream
Tattoo my heart with a star of youth
Forever change my spirit I love you I do
Bright sunny delight red flowers bloom
Love makes us rise jump high as the moon
Repeat chorus end
The word bipolar can put fear in your heart
Because you’ll never know when it will start.
Also known as manic depression and it can become
A lifelong obsession.
Wondering when the next bout of fear will enter you
And if you know just what to do.
It is like the devil trying to take your soul
And it becomes a battle of control.
Most times in order for you to live
You must take the meds that they give.
If your child is bipolar or autistic, will you love them any less?
I don’t think so is my guess!
The LORD puts a child where he / she belongs
With a person he knows is strong.
The strength of the parents helps them to cope
With the problems old and new, and that is
Something that they do.
Let us be a little realistic, not many crimes
Are committed by bipolar or autistic
So how can they use words like crazy, retarted or handicapped
When against us the cards are stacked,
When this becomes a challenge close to home
Remember that you’re not alone.
Look at me
I am special
I am unique
I am different
I am strange and I cannot change
But yet I am free, I get to be me
I am not scared nor do I like to be compared
In this life I was born to be prepared
I am awesome
Everyday I grow and blossom
So why can't you learn to appreciate me
I am extraordinary
I am definitely not ordinary
I am a gift
I am one of a kind
I may have a disorder but I love order
I learn through taste, texture and smell
Body movements are very important to me
I rock, I flick, I flap
I make strange noises
I cannot be anything else but me
In your world I am seen as disable
But in mines, I am very much able
I am free
I am gifted
I am bless
I have been given an opportunity
To be nothing else but me.
There is a lot on my mind of late
Wondering about my fate
Been kinda lost
What does the future cost
My new heart
Plays a part
I want to go home now
Working on the how
Been so very long
Now that once again I'm strong
Riding a train
Safe from the rain
Avoiding any strain
My sisters are helping me
Them, I cannot wait to see
Miss them so
The years made me grow
Old
Cold
Not so bold
To tired to roam
I want to go home
Health is bad
But do not be sad
I'm not.
My blood runs hot
Life is not mine to give
Just to live
If only for awhile
I look at my life and smile
Been so many years
Seeing through autistic tears
Fears
Days of wondering through the dark
Not a walk in the park
Seen love that never seemed to last
Hard not to live in the past
Going by so fast
Lost a child
A pain not so mild
Have lost so much
The feel of a loving touch
Fought hard to climb out of the well
It may be hard to tell
But at times the darkness wants to take me back
Time is on the attack
My hair no longer black
Life has hit me hard
Never held the right card
With everything life has thrown
I have grown
Time says death I should fear
I am still here
I am tired
Hard not to be inspired
Much I have desired
So much alone time
Lost in the rhyme
No longer do I wish to roam
Time to go home
Family is what I need
They agreed
So off I go
Just so you know
The difference
between RightWing political
and economic autism,
and Religious Right monotheism,
has been greatly exaggerated
To this post-millennial tipping point
of monopolistic omnipotence
predicting sacred Earth's matricide
By LeftBrain-RightHand
dogmatic dominance
of a judgmental (straight-white) Jehovah
or a militaristic Allah
or a dogmatic YHWH
or a patriarchal Buddha
or a capitalist Krishna
etc
etc
etc
Made in
anthrosupremacism's
competitive evolutionary
win/lose
Yang v Yin
human v divine
body v mind
predative man nature v nurturing womb spirit
RedRight v GreenLeft
Universal-MonoTheistic Dogmatism
insisting on ego's sacred right
to overpower Unitarian-PolyCultural Synergism
survival-of-fittest v thrival-for-fit-in-ingest,
colonization v creolization.
Wildly exaggerated images,
polarized
partisan
disassociated
traumatizing
schizzy-autistic
rabidly over-populated
weak-X neurosystemic
Defying Yang/Yin resonant relationship
natural resilience
of peak neuro-sensexual
spiritual
organic
love-life experience
LeftBrain totally ignoring RightStrain
while justifying dogmatic divine right
to a manifest EarthTribe destiny
of Hell on Earth ecocide.
Looking at people who are damaged in different ways,
As a mirror that is dropped, broken never the same though a few try.
Broken the pieces that are all there, never can fit as once before.
Impulsive though we are directed by some into the wall knowing
The wall to them is not there.
There are problems in a child's home that you are to blind to see,
Hungry, dirty unkept, ignored by the people like you.
Feral we some at a young age have become, being autistic you never
Knew until I came out and told you.
Being good with numbers at a young age I never was interested in being
An accountant.
So the State covers their ass and tries to deny that you ever existed.
Even though at a much older age, they still tell you lies and seeing right
through
Them, then they get angry and try to use your disability to make you mad
So they can then threaten you with going to jail or even worse some filthy
Mental hospital.
We whom have survived the terrible thing's that have taken the lives of all of
The others,
Makes the few who went to school to become emeshed in the lives of the few
Left alive to cause one more harm then lable you as a wandering mind detached
from
Reality and cull through the few left alive.
Shattered we hide and go to great lengths to remain hidden with out a voice
Or the money to buy one.
We who are the few whom are still alive end up using the pieces from a
different
Broken mirror trying in vain to fix our own unseen by you trying our best not
to give up.
As Emily has said to live without hope trying to fix the wing of a bird that
one holds in
Thier hand that has long since died and shattered though I am I cannot see.
Be brave, said I, said I…Hey Duke, you are bramazing – brilliant and amazing combined…I hope you view this poem – I have a lot on my plate and I really like you…’l’ stands for ‘like’…’I’ stands for ‘ice cream’…K stands for ‘kake (cake)’…and ‘E’ is for ‘eggs’ – that, altogether – in sentence form, is “I have a lot on my plate and I really like you like ice cream, cake and eggs…that sounds childish and sounds wrong…sorry – I’ve tried to work my verse magicalness – that was also an acrostic in itself – it’s an acrostic within an acrostic – what a mind blowing reality of it all!
Radiant sun shines on me when you comment on my writings
And…I’d like to say ‘thank you’ for being a computer pal!
Marvelous thoughts come to mind when I think of you and I’s relationship – yet, I don’t know you in person…however, that doesn’t really matter for the meantime
A wisp of wistful breeze zips right through me…it’s as if the atmosphere is getting colder than cold itself…frozen in place forever…never floating in space…free me…set me free…free me…set me free…my mind repeats words…phrases…I’m part dyslexic and autistic as my mind tells me at this very moment as I’m writing this out without a slightest doubt…I pout…I doubt…I pout…I am a drought, thirsty for Him alone…He’s my backbone…I am on my own, but not alone…Duke, sorry – I get off topic sometimes, but you are absolutely nice and you’re personality is like sugar and spice with a touch of advice…does that sound abserk? I hope naught… I was hopeless – not! I used to hving a lying disorder when I was younger because I thot I could be sneeeeeky… I spell things wrong on purpose just in case any of you are grammar Nazis…I shouldn’t use that term, but oh well – who knows where the wind blows…I could write as long as I live with all of my perpetual might…God’s sight – a light at the end of the tunnel..what’s your Light, Duke?
Zigzagging thoughts strike me…and I’m stuck – stuck – stuck in this pit for hours it seems…mend my broken, shattered dreams……………. Scattered reality of it all really pushed me out of shape and size…I make up sayings and quotes – I’m weird, aren’t I, Duke? Well – that’s the new me
Thariq
Is to be up on Sky glittering as a star
But his fate his name to be with his birth registrar
Thariq
Not of tricks
But a sick of Autistic
Just seen
His fourteen
Mother to leave
Letting his father to relieve
A sportsman turned salesman
His father
Sweating hard for his son’s wellbeing further
Breaking the dark in a day of locked down In Dharga Town
Thariq walked in the time day passing down town
In a state of physically his mind came down
In a police post at a junction
The curfew made it a lonely location
Thariq drew the police attention
To beat,to bleed the agony how to mention?
Beyond the child’s repeated objection
Thariq fell down like a star wounded
Burned down not but turned down
Thariq the sick,was in a state of critic
In the hands of police behaved lunatic
Forgetting their oath to be patriotic
Public torture all what the complain
In assault of police going mental pain
He cried of pain
Beating again and again like with a chain
In the enviers of catching virus
News caught via media making it viral
One to no Mother
More mothers to join
One to only father
Further to come on line
To bear all his pain asking where is mine?
To the one in his puberty
To share his poverty
To bring to books all guilty
To see his smile in his prosperity
To give to his affairs a top priority
To think to be with him is their responsibility
To go down for him to pray Allah the almighty
What happened to Thariq is a matter of shy
The grace of God to all comes from Sky
He is near like a star to one comes in cry
How blessed Thariq to make his eyes wet God dry?