Poems about Autism

Autism has been a huge part of my life for some time now, as my 18 year old son was diagnosed at 3. His Autism was fairly classic and fairly severe. He was obviously intelligent, but would only echo words said to him. It took years of specialists and therapies and fighting the powers that be, but I refused to believe that it could not be beaten. My son is better now, and hopefully will be able to go on and live a productive life on his own. Needless to say, however, it has changed me in profound and painful ways. There are no textbooks, no roadmaps. Even the "experts" don't understand why it happens or how to fix it. It was an uncertain future, one I felt I faced by myself. A lot of the poems I wrote after his diagnosis were outpourings of that anguish and fear - unbearable sorrow. Here are two.

People who have children with Autism

1998

People who have children with autism

will tell a stranger anything over the telephone.

They can recognise the pain and anguish

in another parent's voice

like a password to a secret club

nobody wants to belong to

that neediness is the key

that unlocks all the pretense and bullshit

of civilized conversation -

let's get down to business.

People who have children with autism

learn to live life in a fishbowl

and love it

to embrace embarrassing situations and laugh

because they reaffirm this is my life-

don't pinch me please, I know I'm awake.

People who have children with autism

don't have the luxury

of fooling themselves

they can swallow what's on their plates

and ask for more, beg for it.

They have no shame,

for shame wastes time.

Have earned the right

to call a situation bizarre.

People who have children with autism

can appreciate the beauty

of one unbroken ravioli,

perfect in its wholeness

can agonize over one block

that simply will not maintain its place in line

can understand how relaxing

sands feels as it falls through one's fingers.

People who have children with autism

understand that

the order of the universe

is exactly that.

And that it

is a very tall order to fill

for

people who have children with autism.

********

My son got Autism and all I got was this lousy poem

(2000)

Alone I sit.

Alone I stay.

I wage a battle

every day.

I fight alone.

Alone I cry.

And all alone

I say goodbye.

The life I lead

The love I choose.

Alone I conquer.

Alone I lose.

Alone I rise.

Alone I fall.

And all alone

I face the call.

I face the truth.

I face the pain.

But all alone

the prize I gain.

The beauty beaten, battered, blown

are all the person I now own.

No one else,

just me, alone.

( I know the second poem has a Dr. Seuss feel to it, but I can recall how absolutely devastated I felt when I wrote it. It was like, only simplistic language could convey such complex emotions. Does that make sense?)