Tag Archives: moving forward

A Poem Called “Mourning”

(Trigger Warning: the painful moments may trigger some.)

Mourning,

by theamazinJ

Violence,
hurt,
physical pain,
emotional pain,
murderous draining of blood,
seeping from our veins abstractly,
the pain persists with everyone,
it persists in the community,
it persists in segregated settings,
it persists with disabled people,
it persists with black people,
it persists with jewish people,
it persists with muslims,
it persists with women,
it persists with differences in gender and (a)sexuality,
it persists because of eugenics,
it persists cause of American society today
especially with Donald Trump,
especially with the dark past history of America,
especially with this construction from Francis Galton,
the pain hurts even deeper and darker than that,
from the deepest roots of human history,
many people are in pain,
many people are in mourning
the lack of empathy from the current social construction
of how many individuals in mainstream society don’t understand,
of how many don’t want to understand,
and how we cannot get it right,
we cannot listen to each other,
of how no one has true understanding
unless the person has experienced
or flipped to that side of the coin,
and that only happens when we allow ourselves to experience,
when we just experience it,
and we begin to heal,
heal through humor,
heal through communicating,
heal through love,
heal through laughing amongst each other,
in the community and not in congregate settings separated from the community,
because it’s all about us,
it is all about life,
it’s not about mourning,
it’s not supposed to be a dark life,
it’s supposed to be about seeing the light,
seeing the positive sides of life,
experiencing and loving who we are
so we can experience and love everyone around us,
without causing pain to us or anyone else
regardless of how much pain we already have,
it’s about letting go and moving forward,
It’s Nothing about us, without us,
it’s just about love,
can you go back in time,
to a place in your mind,
to the one you knew you that you just couldn’t find,
when it’s said and done it’s not about losing love,
it’s not about the pain,
it’s about gaining love from everyone we meet,
taking in everything, but not taking too much pain,
the mourning of this day,
heals us when we can laugh instead of cry,
when we can let go and celebrate lives lost,
when we can let go and celebrate our own life,
and when we can just let go and move forward,
Mourning is more about how we laugh until we had to cry
and say to each other,
I love you no matter what,
I love you for who you are or who you were,
people touch, and it lives in our lives forever,
so, let’s move forward
and let’s meet halfway,
made of memories,
believing in destiny,
every moment is about getting living every moment
in the way we stick to each other in the community
regardless of impairments, regardless of what labels society gives us,
and we are stronger when we have given up,
given up on our egos,
given up on our arrogance,
and lived for the humility of humanity,
remembering and always never forgetting,
disability is a major part of human life,
so don’t neglect yourself, don’t neglect others,
and begin to accept the diversity in everything,
the diversity of life, between where we are
where we identify, claiming neurodivergent and claiming disability and even claiming neurotypicality,
finally,
it does not matter what people claim,
it just matters to be happy,
and live knowing
normality is real, but normality is accepting life the way it is,
in the living years
say it loud, say it clear,
so don’t blame the ones before, presently, or after,
just laugh with perfect humor among each other,
no matter what, no matter who,
when nothing about us, without us
really does matter.

A Poem Called “Disease”

Disease,

by theamazinJ

Pushing,
pulling,
feuding,
crying for help,
hurting from the pain
from everyone around
who don’t appreciate,
from everyone who
don’t understand life.
Arguing with each other,
swinging the bodies in disgust,
feeling out of control,
the starchness of who we are,
as disabled people,
as we are neurodivergent,
as we are told to pass,
as we can’t be who we are,
as everyone becomes robots,
as everyone’s movements become fixed,
and the way we communicate become stuck,
without flapping,
without spinning,
without moving in the way that we are free,
without speaking with our true voice,
and speaking, moving, and guarding ourselves
in a way society wants.
It saddens me society doesn’t understand,
it hurts me society won’t give respect
unless these things are done,
and everyone does what is necessary
to be considered intelligent,
unless everyone speaks, moves, and intellectualizes in a way
society wants it
to gain the respect we should have had all along.
Society can be funny.
the physiology can be different than the way society actually is,
the way our brains work,
the way our bodies move,
and the way our spirit is to make a difference,
everyone is here for a purpose,
everyone intellectualizes differently,
everyone has different thoughts,
everyone is here to get their voices out there,
to debate, to argue their points, and to listen
however we all listen,
we are not here to be robots,
we are not here to be clones,
and certainly we are not here to be different than who we are.
Everywhere we go, everywhere we burst into a room,
every time we open a door,
we open the door to another opening
to another meeting,
to meeting more people,
to seeing what we can see,
to hearing new things
and to meet with new partners,
eventually committing to a partner if we choose.
Sometimes we have positive thoughts,
sometimes we have negative thoughts,
and many times the positive and the negative fight together in our heads,
creating anxiety and not knowing what to do.
The power of thought helps us know
what we want to think,
whether it is positive or negative,
or just a debate in our head,
or just a voice we are struggling to hear from another person.
Sometimes we would do anything for love,
even run from hell and back,
and sometimes we actually meet people for a reason to help us at the time
who only help us grow to meet the people who stick with us for life,
while meeting people every day of our life,
speaking the moment of truth,
finding the love we need to live,
while engaging with violent outbursts in our heads
between negative and positive thoughts,
and the powerful outbursts sometimes show in the real world
while most times it just lies inside our heads,
fighting our emotions, fighting our feelings, and fighting what we want to think,
a positive thought can be overthrown easily by a negative thought
if we don’t build a wall in our mind to overthrow the negatives in our mind
because we have to remember thoughts are things
and thoughts create our reality
while thoughts fighting in our minds
become inner battles for what we want in our life,
everyone gives, everyone takes, and everyone battles,
about or but what is.
the door is always open, we just have to open every door,
we just have to be who we are,
with our neurodivergent brains,
with our disabled bodies or not disabled at the time,
and whether we choose to pass for neurotypicality
and how much we choose to be neurotypicality,
finally, it is our choice,
and from that choice,
we choose to make love or to take love,
even when its a rainy night or just clear skies,
all we have to do is make that decision and live with what we choose,
deciding the magic we want to deliver to the world,
with the love we have to give and share,
and see with our eyes the beauty we made
for the world to see and share everywhere.
All we want to do is make the love,
and open the doors wherever we see them.
What about love? What’s missing?
Open the doors!

A Poem Called “Rage, Rage, Rage”

Rage, Rage, Rage,

by theamazinJ

Violent bursts of screams,
raging through the crowd,
screaming, yelling, flapping,
bursting into the crowd of painful instinct,
sensory exhaustion to an extreme,
marginalizing one’s own dream,
ostracizing the person who lives,
oppressing,
depressing our emotions,
Raging violently with their hands,
raging violently with their movements,
raging so violently without even thinking,
trying to flight away to a far off quiet place,
destroying everything just to get there,
without caring what other pain is caused,
Rage, Rage, RAGE!
The wrath of Rage,
bursting into the seams of others clothing,
grabbing the nakedness of human nature,
the impossibility of looking directly in the eyes.
When looking directly into eyes
the pain causes rage
from the way the look grabs intently
to the point of fiery smoke,
and irrational emotional thought
seems to suck the blood out of your body,
out of your mind, and out darkening your soul
to the point of creating a clone
of the one and only who started it all.
The blood dries up,
the movements cause pain,
the gawking at the bluntness,
the need for a space for doing what is quiet,
what is intellectual,
and the space needed for creativity
to establish the need of creating a world
intersecting with time, with space, and
coordinating a world of hope,
a world of finding a way,
to a world to self-directing our own way,
a world to the incredible design created for everyone,
even when Rage outweighs it all,
rage does not fuel the joy,
Rage, Rage, RAGE,
raging into the community
where people eventually are segregated,
eventually into ghettos of despair
from the distrust that got us there,
fearing for our life,
and separating others who are citizens as well.
Loving to everyone can be difficult,
allowing the choice to persist,
separating our thoughts from our fear,
what is life?
rage, rage, raging into the sky,
opposing the current social construction,
building a universal designing of choice,
flapplauding or applauding,
ramping it up to nirvana or stairway to the upward wonderland,
acting up to the raging machine,
to the moment of existence,
without control, but with letting it all go,
letting go of what we are sad for,
letting go what makes us angry,
letting go of rage,
and finally letting go of the painful words or violence
imposed on who we are as a person,
to live a life finally nirvanically at peace.
peace with our hearts
subsiding the rage to almost nothing,
and just eternally living in the promised land
from this promised Earth.

A Poem Called “It’s My Life, It’s my Choices”

It’s My Life, It’s my Choices,

by theamazinJ

Choices matter,
choices are personal,
choices make sense,
people may be concerned,
people may not understand,
people feel obligated to personal choices,
a personal choice is a personal choice
and nothing more and nothing less.
Personal choices help growth
whether we like it or not,
personal choices are sedimental,
personal choices are not your choices,
personal choices are the choices of the individual who makes them,
personal choices help with self-care,
personal choices help with setting and maintaining boundaries,
personal choices give everyone their own dignity and pride,
deciding on things on our own and learning
is everyone’s right and everyone’s distinctions
from another individual,
because everyone matters,
because everyone chooses their destiny,
because everyone has their own way of doing things
to decide what they feel is right at the time,
everyone makes mistakes or chooses based on their own feelings.
To be an activist,
one must know what they want,
know what they don’t want,
and fight for everything they do want.
An activist is strong willed,
an activist fights for what they believe in,
an activist uses evidence to base on their beliefs,
an activist is not influenced by others,
an activist learns everyday what works and what doesn’t,
an activist grows with the people they respect
disregarding the people that hurt them,
an activist’s life can be tough
especially when people hate what we say or do,
an activist’s life can be even tougher
when what we say or do is often put down or shut down,
but an activist must stick to their mission,
must stick to their beliefs,
and continue to support evidence for their beliefs
gaining more and more support from others.
An activist makes hard choices.
Sometimes those choices can hurt others,
and sometimes those choices can eventually change the world for the better.
Martin Luther King,Jr made choices as an activist in this manner,
Rosa Parks as part of that too,
Malcolm X made choices in similar fashion,
Ed Roberts the same,
The Black Panthers even more,
Harvey Milk too,
and yes, even Susan B. Anthony and Harriet Tubman as well.
The list goes on and on all throughout history,
finally, its the choices we make that matter to what we believe,
its’ the choices we make that make us who we are,
and it’s the choices we make that allows our activism to succeed or not,
if there is no evidence and support, our activism failed,
however if we continue to push through and learn from what we know about ourselves,
We become part of the greatest activists who ever lived before.
It’s our choices to forgive ourselves and others that matter
to understand and learn from the past,
sometimes the choices we make is everything no matter what.
An activism moves forward without looking back.

A Poem Called “A Narrative of Individuals”

A Narrative of Individuals,

by theamazinJ

My gift,
My life,
My vision,
My focus,
My broad spectrum,
my ultimate beauty,
my darkened evil,
my life:
I have you,
I am you,
I am me,
I am disabled,
I am a person,
I am a citizen,
My goal,
My life,
My future,
My medicine,
my accommodation,
my accessibility,
my feelings,
my touch,
my sight,
my ideas,
my ways of who I am,
My obstacles with social construction,
My life.
I am disabled,
I am able.
I am who I am
however way you look at me,
I am you,
I am me,
I am comforting,
I am lost,
I am gained,
I am part of a tribe,
I am neurotribes,
I am neurodivergent,
I am blind,
I am moving awkwardly,
I am flexible,
I am moving furiously,
I am angry,
I am sad,
I am smiling,
I am proud of who I am,
I am conquering.
I am fighting.
I am flightful.
My thoughts are egregious.
My thoughts are among thou.
My thoughts are disabled.
My thoughts are smart and able,
my goal is fitting.
I am fit.
I am going on.
I am moving on.
I am forthcoming.
I am utterly fruitful.
My spirit is going.
I am a starry night,
I am in a darkened hole.
My life is sunny,
My life is rainy,
My life is cloudy,
My life is clear,
I can see clearly.
My life.
My classless feeling.
My feelings for others.
My anxiety soars.
I care for others,
I care less for me,
I focus on off,
focusing on.
lifting you,
lifting, pulling, pushing, pulling,
egregiously climbing,
outwardly done.
My life.
My life is paralyzed,
my life is numb,
my life is moving,
my life is simple,
my life is complicating,
my life is complex.
I am strong.
I am weak.
I am open.
I am closed.
It’s all about the future,
it’s all about me and you.
I am inspired.
I am despired.
I am inspiring.
I am deploring and despiring.
It’s good or it’s bad.
Faulty or Fally,
Fortune or forgetful,
Minding my business,
minding my own mind.
Spinning boundaries,
mental incapacities,
psychiatric dogginess,
dogs of beauty,
catastrophic cats,
cats in a rainbow,
libertarian of liberty,
spiraling out of control.
Controlling who I am,
spinning awfully well,
moving hands with flapps,
pushing myself into my blankets,
listening to my music,
painting the colors on canvass,
filming my stories,
urging goals of life.
It’s my journey,
It’s my anxiety,
It’s my conundrum,
I can be,
I cannot see,
I can see,
I can feel,
I may be real,
I am real,
I am you,
I am me,
That’s me,
That’s my life,
that’s your life,
living.