Not about the autistic, this poem is about certain city folk.
Autistic
big city folk can ignore
better than most autistic
kids who stare right through people;
these city folk hear nothing from the musical
tones of cell phones,
programmed for the perceptive;
no, warnings are nothing
to these city folk; they sit with cheerios
dripping from gums too tight
to chew, not understanding the air
they breathe, the noise they
hear, the rot-gutting
alcohol they slosh
down throats too eager
for pain.
This past Christmas I was afforded the glimpse of an autistic child. He was greatly loved by his father and siblings and amid the grunts and posturing he developed a like for me. I felt his love and although his eyes seemed empty his heart was full because of the love he shared. He knew more than I will ever learn about the piano and he never exercised a lesson. I think we learn about ourselves from being there with them.
Susan
This is my personal inspirational book of poetry. It contains many poems written for family, friends, and relevant life situations. Hopefully you will find some that will encourage and inpsire you in whatever arena you are found in your circle of l
Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep
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interesting comparison, yet it rings true! many ignore what's around them, too blind to see what's right in front of their noses. well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
God BLess
Michelle!
Susan
Love Tinka