Archive for January, 2011

To The Gravestone

NB: Written for a friend

To the gravestone.

When I shut my eyes, I remember
The places where we spent so many years.
I remember all the times we laughed together
All the fights we had over such small things
The days when we dreamed of the future,
The days when we made promises to keep.

Whatever happened to that world from then?
Why does it seem so far from what’s today,
If we knew then, what we know now…
Would we have made the same choices to end up here?

Around us, much the world seems in ruins
To busy to remember the old ways,
and as I stand before you with my eyes shut
I shed tears for those beside you so forgotten
Who have not seen their family for an age

I hope when it comes my time to sleep
We will see each other and catch that drink,
Till then I shall keep visiting so restless
Shedding tears over the world that comes my way.

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Our world gone

NB: This is quite a sad poem, and its long, you will need to click the read more button to read it all, or on the title above,

A friend was telling me how one day she looked out her window and around her was fields and forest, then when she went to sleep and woke up, it felt like only a day had past and then it was a town, then when the forest was gone they all moved on and around her house now is mostly abandoned building and machines. I tried to imagine what that would be like, sleeping and waking and each day being scarier that the one before it.  Thats how this poem was written

Oh the forest, and the fields,
So green and ever lasting
So beautiful, so precious,
Full of colour, smells and sounds.

There are tall trees, short trees
Green trees and orange trees
There are leaves of many shapes
Nothing ever looks the same.

Then upon the night
We shut our eyes
We smile big and sleep very sound
For we remember all the beauty
That surrounds us all the time

… continue reading this entry.

Lost

NB: I was talking with someone from the organization, CCS Disability Action, about what autism is like, my troubles with sequencing. I thought about it a lot, I decided that I will write this. Sequencing is the ability to put things into the right order, something simple like getting dressed for me can become a nightmare, taking hours. Especially if you do something then have to correct it. But explaining the feelings of that, to someone who has never experienced it is so hard. So this was the best explanation I could come up with. Like when someone is going somewhere but can’t remember where to go, but knows exactly the place they are looking to get to.

Its like I’m going somewhere
I know where I should I go
I remember the letter box,
The cobble path, the white door.
I remember the trees,
How the wind blows,
I remember the flowers
All the smells they give off
Yet as I try to get there
Is it left or is it right?
Do I turn at this corner?
I begin to cry.
I start to go in circles,
Confused and so afraid…
Shouting in frustration
That I cannot find my way.
This is how I live my life,
Every single day…
Knowing where to go
But lost in every way.

Returning Home

I have adventured for many years
Seen more than most will see
Cried a thousand tears…
At both beauty and terror been,

When I started I just wished for change
To see something that wasn’t the same
Experience the new and bold
To look upon something with nothing but awe,

However now that I have returned
From the home I left so long ago,
I feel so confused and torn,
For no longer feels my home

The door that I remembered,
Lays tattered, cracked and aged
Upon the ground it screams out…
Stories of its glory days

Inside the spiders look comfortable,
Undisturbed in peaceful slumber,,
The table fallen over frail,
The chairs warm in a blanket of dust…

And staring at this aged state
I begin to truly ponder
Is this really my home?
Or am I stranger in a strange land
That is no longer my own..