Autism Poems

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Here's some poems I've written about Autism. I'm still a beginner, so feel free to leave comments. While your at it, post your Autism poems if you have some. Thank you.

The Proud Autistic

A curse
A contaminant
That’s what I have;
That’s what I possess
To the world;
To you, Gaea
My mind can clearly construct
Yet my tongue speaks jumble
When I converse with someone
Or when I’m listening to loud noises
I go blank;
I have meltdowns
“Pull up your socks,” they will say
“Let’s play Cowboys.”
And I pull up my socks
Or sit in the corner
And they look at me strange
Or bear little attention to me
I joke at a formal party
Joke at work
The host scolds me
Or the boss fires me
Would this world acknowledge my condition
Would it accept me for who I am
Must I wander in agony around you Gaea
Or tread along the path of Hel
Forget me
And forget you
For you mislead yourself like a June bug;
You walk like a hind-legged boar in the water
You shroud my kind with your cloak
And you spoon-feed me with castor oil
What goddess are you
The Lord knows you
Who presses favorites with your children
Or scorches us who fail in your delight
You bear hatred on us Cyclops;
You view us as freaks
Over the Titans
Or at least the gods
Yet you don’t know
(Or do you?)
The power we have
The gifts we possess
We’re creative
Unique
Look at our art
View our contributions
Pokémon
Stephen Spielberg
Hans Christian Andersen
Albert Einstein
See your favorites hang out with us
See us happy, accepted, and scholary
Your favorites have as many flaws
As we have gifts
We’re mere mortals;
We’re mere ants
Crawling on your belly
Or at least in Poseidon’s realm
So bear not judgment on us
Bear judgment on yourself
Not future generations
Nor those in heaven
For we have flaws
And just as much gifts
And our kind is unique
We’re made for a purpose
So accept us
Don’t kill us or make us conform with society
I have autism;
I have Asperger’s Syndrome
And I sing out to the world;
I am a proud autistic

Variation of the Human Spectrum

I tread along the sidewalk
Tread along town
Beside the flaming rug
And along with the zephyr
I see fingers pointing
Faces jeering
And I cover
My face
Shroud myself
In darkness
Or at least behind one of the large broccolis
Laughter goes on
Fingers are bayonets
Piercing my heart
Piercing my confidence
“Your kind are weird,” they say
“They need to be cured”
“Can’t you be of any use?”
And a river of snot creeps down my nostrils
A deluge of tears become waterfalls
My pride
My pride
O my pride
Hic
Hic
Sniff
An experiment
Is that what I am to you?
Am I a burden to you
Or a threat to society?
Am I a monster carved from Satan’s flesh
That need to be slain?
Answer me
For my soul wants proof
That the Aryan race exists
“Leave him alone!” a voice says
I look up
And the fingers,
Laughter—
Gone
“Are you okay?”
The same voice
And I turn back
To see a girl
Dressed in a cotton strawberry dress,
Skin peachy as—well—a peach
I smile
And she smiles back
I grab her hand
And she, mine
We gazed at each other
And I blushed when she blushed
Or she blushed when I blushed
“Avis,” she said
And I blushed harder
A Coca-Cola can
“DeUndrae”
Hooray! One person in the world
One person accepts me
A gift from God
One of nature’s prizes
I’m not an experiment
Nor an object
I’m a human
Purely made in the sight of God
I’m just one of many variations of
The Human Spectrum
And I’m happy with that

The World of Autism and Neurotypicality

One looks at me,
Watches me,
And I sit alone in a corner
Or gaze away from the eye
He goes to a large crowd,
Attends an elegant party,
And he notices me,
His face twisting like an ugli fruit
I clasp my ears,
Maybe scream
He laughs, wondering,
Or sympathizes me, saying,
“Poor boy.
I hope he’s okay.
Did he learn any social skills?
My boy would never do that.”
And he struts away
Thinking he’s lucky,
Or he goes to his friends
To talk about the day
But he observed my outside,
My symptoms,
For if he dived into my heart
Or have gotten to know me,
My world,
My mind
Would shower blessings upon him,
Even inspire him
View my autism
View my Asperger’s Syndrome
As a gift from God
Not one with natural selection
Watch me imagine
Watch me craft
An ancient land
Filled with humanoid creatures with squirrel ears and tails
Observe as I solve
Tangrams or a Lonpos problem
My fruit blossoms
My wisdom enlightens
And mankind shall pick
To share with every culture,
Not just my own
My world blossoms,
Intrigues
Never forgotten
And surely never dead
A creation of God
His masterpiece
Meant to be blessed
For everything he makes is good
Don’t shun it
For my world is beautiful
Though strange,
Even eccentric to you
And an autistic world sprouts balloon-bell flowers
Whereas yours, roses
But my flower radiates
As bright as your flowers
Though different
But when mingled together,
Yours and mines,
Our world completes God’s test,
Bears Aphrodite’s beauty,
Achieving peace
And inspiring others
We need each other
Our imagination
Our smarts
And God wouldn’t have it any other way,
For we’re Iris and Colonel
Designed to be one,
Not Mega Man and Bass
Blasting each other with our busters.
Join my World of Autism
And be enlightened by its ingenuity
We’ll connect
To be the perfect Reploid
Never to be destroyed
And never to turn maverick

Wow! That is *so* beautiful and replete and clear - thank you for posting it!

We must get this out to the world - it says so much, so well! Do you have plans to publish?

Not since Whitman have I been so impressed.

Actually, 129 people saw it. Very few people speak out about poetry but that does not diminish your own voice. You must not let this become isolation and silence. Seek out other poets and writers. Become a voice that answers them and their voices will return to you.

this is really remarkable work.
Made me cry and smile a lot while reading.
beautiful<3

Weapon Of Choice

I am
Seemingly insensitive
Yet
Overly sensitive
It hurts
Casual conversation
I speak
And am often misunderstood
I can’t
Understand your silent communication
Weapon
Of choice that is not mine
No defense
Suited to your once balanced offense
Quickly I
Absorb the onslaught and in pain offer
A smile
Balance is restored in ignorance
But
At whose expense?

I'm not fond of beer or sports
Or killing of any sorts,
I'm mostly vegetarian.
My thinking's free
With creativity
Fine for an Aquarian.
But I can't say
In any way
If these are Aspie traits.
It's what I am
(Don't give a damn
What it indicates.)

i really liked your second one .
they're all very descriptive in a simplistic essential way. so they read well.
and they paint vivid scenes upon the mind. it's as if it were happening to me as i read it.

"The Masks We Wear"

Wanted to be a loyal friend
Sometimes we fail to see the end
My heart, once bruised, now on the mend
The days flew by so very fast

Those dreams I entertained some nights
Of company and turned-off lights
Took mind and body to new heights
Now deeply buried in the past

The cruelest card that life has dealt
That gets me blue, makes my hopes melt
Is that despite how good they’ve felt
Of ties I make, none seem to last

I grow attached quite easily
My social sense abandons me
I’ve done some awkward things, you see
Such history is very vast

I patiently await the day
That I might hear the newsman say
“Hell’s frozen over, let us pray”
This curse from me i may then cast

My son wrote a great one, but I can't post it publically, because he's shy about it. He does say if anyone wants to read it, I can send it as a pm... so if you want to know how an aspie twelve year old feels about it, let me know, and I'll send it to you.

I couldn't get over how good it was, I wished it was something I'd written. He writes a poem once every few years, and they just blow me away.

weird eyes

I'm a mode of being
a form of existence
a condition personified
I'm a stim of hand
a lonely man
the one you won't let in...

look at their weird eyes
a restless hope for more
Look into those deep eyes
of the fool you hoped to ignore

I went into the town
hovered over the dancer
my fingers jerked at your touch
You pulled me into the crowd
The faces devoid of the worry
of simply living a life


look at the weird eyes
in their paranoid fable
look into these deep eyes
of the fool whos a label

I lay in bed half awake again
the numbness the best I have
I saw someone in the corner
my reflection bound for escape
I crept to my windows
wished I could fly

look at their weird eyes
A sign of confusion
look into these deep eyes
of those left to seclusion

and I find myself in the same place as always
I look into the looking glass and squint
I see someone without control of anything
a person bound to your definitions
I ask myself who I have become
and what it means to have got here and lived....

It's sort of a geeks rule the world kind of poem

Scientists are never cool
Waiting at the back of the queue
One step forward, two steps back
The bottom of the food chain is where you belong
You were never an athlete, never got the dates
You thought you were in good company, Einstein and all the rest
But scientists are never cool
They’ll learn, you said
When you’re living in mansions and the owner of a company
Lucky in love and know all the big names
While they waste their lives at a boring job
They’re not so successful anymore
Your only friends played games with your mind
You were loyal and very blind
People looked down on the nerds
But you were even lower than them
But they learned, now that
You’re living in mansions and the owner of a company
Lucky in love and know all the big names
While they waste their lives at a boring job
They’re not so successful anymore
They thank you for the great inventions
The new soft ware, state of the art
The ones who once laughed at you
Now look up to you and envy you

There are private bells
That ring inside to sound out joy
Or jangle in chaotic clash
When one of us should reach to touch
Realities that spark with light
Or turn the world to powdered ash.

We are different. Our oddness breeds
Discomforts from shifted perceptions.
Our sight is strained from normalcy,
Our efforts receive strange receptions.
Somehow we sprang from inverse seeds,
Our blooms have scents of insurrections.

And yet, this Earth is ours as well.
We see where things are moving badly.
The world slides steadily towards Hell.
Misunderstandings spring out sadly.
We know we carry gifts to give.
We must integrate to live.