Tag Archives: self-acceptance

A Poem Called “Autistic Rage”

Autistic Rage,

(Written after reading the article Blind Rage, in response to Helen Keller, by Georgina Kleege)
(This poem is something that is in the works for a poetry anthology I am doing for class for my masters program at CUNY. I am working on doing annotations for each part of this poem that requires an annotation which is why there is numbers associated with certain lines as well as 4 other poems I chose to annotate as well. I also used gender neutral pronouns so as to not identify. Since my natural tendency in writing is short bursts of words rather than longer sentences from my own Autistic language which is my own Autistic Poetics and my professor likes that. And, I will be filming this poem this week for my non-credit film class.)

by theamazinJ

My feelings of disability 1
come from the distinction of an honor,
but to many a tragedy,
from the way we see people generally,
to the way we converse,
from Kanner’s views of autism,2
to Asperger’s views of psychopathology, 3
to the beauty of movement
from the ideas of Tourette’s4
spilling out my gut,
without my insincere moment,
from the way Elephant Man5
physically felt stigmatized
and ostracized to the
way my moment of
my life lives.
To the way I fill the moment
of my influence,
to the moment of
how the intersection of
autism and Tourette’s
go hand in hand
even with dyslexia6
with the acts of disability
in American culture.7
My life is good,
stop and wonder,
my life is good,
I don’t care what you say,
I hurt,
I pain,
from your misunderstandings,
from your lack of empathy,
of your arrogance,
of your immaturity,
of your future of me one day,
when I surpass you.
I hurt,
I pain, I forgive,
I forget,
I argue,
I say,
Get Out,
Get Real,
Get images,
Get going,
I am me,
So get the hell out.

My disability of autism
is interesting.
My disability of anxiety 8
is a swirl of energy and rage
to be controlled.
My disability of movement
makes me move differently
than I am and you are.
I move with ease.
I move with fluttering hands and feet.
I fly my hands in the sky with flapping,
I shadow my feeling in the darkness.
I crawl into a hole.
My disability is discomforting.
My disability is not accepted.
I feel over anxious from
the already anxiety I feel
from society.
I feel I don’t love who I am
because I am not accepted
under this social standard, 9
this social construction society created, 10
and under every one telling me without
supporting me.
And, if I don’t want to be told,
that I am not supported by anything.
It’s control.
It’s life giving me serene beauty without
touching the beauty.
I love things, I love animals,
I always and sometimes love people.
I feel conglomerated
by society by the people
around me.
I need to be forgiven for I am,
yet, everyone wants
to change me for who I am right now.
I am, right now.
I cannot just be
I cannot just do
I cannot just say
I want to say
I want to do,
but in reality
i am unforgiven.
I am forgettable,
i am not working
like the way
They is worthy, 11
or
They thinks is worthy,12
or
They thinks they is the Queen,13
or
They
notes them and with pride,14
or
Them
exacerbates who they is
in a low key manner,15
or
They seems better
but really is not,16
or
They moves in to build peace
but cannot really17
or
They talks about sex
but takes it too far18
or
They passes with ease
causing more pain,19
or
the way Them projects who they are,20
or
Them uses their anger to shell out to others,21
or
They thinks the world revolves around them,22
or
how they thinks they can speak with AAC
even saying how proud they are of autism,23
or
even the way they takes on
how others feel and does not know their own,24
or even the way they attempts to
say Autistic men are more likely to be pedophiles
from an article from 2013,25
or how they thinks they can find causes
which they thinks can take away the pain
and cure autism even though that just
causes more pain in order to pass
and not be real,26
or even the way the anti-vaccine movement
thinks they knows everything, but knows nothing.27
or how every Autistic leaders feel,28
or autism researchers think about Autistics,29
because Autistic or not, I feel
humanity is real,
but humanity sucks
from the way we are all judged,
but humanity is not normal,30
and normal is done,
normal is succinct,
normal is seemingly joyous but
with eagerness to feel pain,
to feel suffering, to feel like less than,
but most importantly
feeling jerky,
feeling like a marshmallow,
feeling geeky,
feeling like I don’t belong
and everyone can move me
in the direction they want,
and my anxiety soars everyday,
every night,
and cannot stop
because everyone tells me and
no one wants to be told
and no one supports, but support is
good is better and helps a person
achieve self-determination,
achieving identity of largeness in my hands,
my long legs ache, my arms are in pain,
and I just feel like embarking on something special
as every other human being
is special, is unique,
and not more, not less,
and a part of the life
we live today.
It’s the way Neurotribes was written31
and even with In A Different Key,32
because Autistic history is real33
when it is really
the history of the Human race.34

(Happy Autism Acceptance Month 2017!)

The poems in order will be :

1) Autistic Rage poem
2) I am not retarded poem
3) I open at the close poem
4) Tyrant and Martyr poem
5) Poem of Apologies

(Now each poem will have annotations based on the readings I read this semester with other readings (books, articles) I have too.)

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 “FilmDis”

FilmDis,

by theamazinJ

Critical analysis of film,
the spirit of film,
creating ideas,
suggesting ideas,
collaborating with others,
including all voices,
evening the playing field,
incorporating the film business with disabled people,
watching, viewing, and discussing film,
everyone needs this,
everyone gains from it all,
no one is left behind,
everyone’s words are valid and appreciated,
making films that count,
making films that we enjoy,
making films we despise,
raising the bar in filmmaking,
everything is illuminated with thought,
everything can be taught,
no one is left behind,
we discuss what we like,
we discuss what we don’t like,
regardless of who we are,
regardless of disability or abled-bodiness,
regardless of gender,
regardless of what we believe,
even regardless of what we say.
some, don’t like it,
some, enjoy it,
some even spread the message further,
some even consider their duty,
filmdis is important,
discussing the themes,
discussing the action,
discussing the visuals,
discussing the plot,
discussing the sound and the way we perceive light,
even discussing the perception and mentality of society.
Everyone’s included,
everyone can say how they feel,
no one can belittle anyone,
no one can talk down to others
like their activism is not enough or not good enough,
we speak for ourselves,
but we listen to everyone.
Film activism creates themes of change,
film activism debunks and de-stigmatizes
what didn’t work and what can work better,
organizations mean nothing,
it’s in the heart of what the individual citizen says,
not in what families say,
not in what organizations say,
and certainly not what legislators or a President says,
The President and legislators must listen to individual citizens
like FilmDis needs to listen to individuals in and out of the film business,
like in the way organizations or families need to listen to individuals,
regardless of what organizing people or families actually say,
because in the end,
we all may wholly agree in a discussion,
we all may wholeheartedly disagree.
The discussion becomes fulfilled when
everyone understands, everyone listens, no one feels invalidated,
and no one feels belittled or stupid,
finally giving the individual a voice,
a voice speaking for themselves,
a voice speaking for what they believe in,
a voice in discussions,
and a voice among thousands of other voices,
because no one can repute,
but everyone can just listen,
and give the most,
taking the least,
while taking in and reflecting on a moment
on the ideas an individual citizen actually has,
take a moment and reflect
remembering FilmDis,
and remembering organizing means nothing
when there is no outreach,
when there is no discussion,
and there is no inclusion,
Nothing about us, without Us!

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.