Because I Could Not Stop For Death

Because I could not stop for Death
He kindly stopped for me
The Carriage held but just Ourselves
And Immortality.

We slowly drove, he knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For his civility.

We passed the School, where Children strove
At recess in the ring
We passed the fields of gazing grain
We passed the setting sun.

Or rather, he passed us
The dews drew quivering and chill
For only Gossamer, my gown
My tippet only tulle.

We paused before a house that seemed
A swelling of the GROUND
The roof was scarcely visible
The cornice in the ground.

Since then 'tis centuries and yet
Feels shorter than the DAY
I first surmised the horses' heads
Were toward eternity.


by Emily Dickinson

Welcome to Holland

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability – to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this…



When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip – to Italy. You buy a bunch of guidebooks and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum, the Michelangelo David, the gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.



After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."



"Holland?!" you say. "What do you mean, Holland?" I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy.



But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.



The important thing is that they haven't taken you to some horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.



So you must go out and buy a new guidebook. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.



It's just a different place. It's slower paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around, and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills, Holland has tulips, Holland even has Rembrandts.



But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy, and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life you will say, "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."



The pain of that will never, ever, go away, because the loss of that dream is a very significant loss.



But if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things about Holland.

Written by Emily Perl Kingsley


To read more beautiful and heartwarming autism poems click here.

I Can’t Remember

I can’t remember
skipping rocks on the beach
My childhoods forgotten
My childhoods lost.

Going to the doctor
Making mud cakes
Playing with friends in the street.

I can’t remember
All the bereavement
My childhoods forgotten
My childhoods lost.

The doctor doing surgery
Me getting pain pills
I can’t remember any of it
None of it’s clear.

I still can’t remember,
How it’s gone
My childhoods forgotten
My childhoods lost.


by Jamesha Willis

Jail

Sitting in my cell
thinking
what the hell is wrong with me
I'm going down
for prostitution
and don't know what to do next
waiting
to see what the judge
has in store for me
I am scared
to death
I let a pimp abuse me
and let him walk free

damn

I wish I could go back in time
scared to look my mom in the eye
scared to become judged
by everyone I know

How am I just going to let this ride off me?
So now
sitting where I started
all because I'm too scared
to talk about what's going on with me.

In my cell
everyday, thinking
why
I let him walk free

Now I am doing a 6 month bid
for someone who doesn't even care
where I am

I'm in jail
In my cell
aching from the pain
of jail.

by Paulette Essie

You Have A History

You were only six
But your eyes seemed hundreds of years older
And when you asked me if the lines on your palm told your future
I couldn't help but laugh
Because, babe, you had it backwards.

The curvy one growing up from your wrist is the stem
You were once a flower
And the zigzag striking across your palm is the path
You were lightning
The squiggly one that dances from the base of your thumb to the pinky
Isn't it beautiful to know how to fly?

Remember you were a bird
And the ebbing lines running across it all
Waves, you were the most wonderful sea
The ones slowly sliding down from your first finger
Paint.

You were god's masterpiece
Then, finally the short, straight, horizontal
Lines rushing all too quickly across your fingers
Oh, isn't it obvious?

Human.

Cynthia Leigh Waters

Child

Yearns

Never-never Land

Touches

Hurt

Instant Love

All Mine

Loving and Lovable

Emotional

Intricate

God’s Child

Hard Life

Wondrous

Admirable

Trusting

Eclectic

Romantic

Sunny

You were my joy and my life,

My everything, my all

You were an answer to prayer

I loved you so much

I had to give you away

You weren’t a toy

I would have broken you

You were my sunshine

After you were gone

I lived in perpetual darkness.

I became an underground animal

Never seeking the sun

You are my sun

by Betty Phillips

What I Have Lost

I know through the years

There were good times and bad

Unfortunately what hurts

I remember the bad

I’ve disappointed you

In so many ways

The drinking, the drugging

Almost forgetting your special day

I know you’ve lost trust

Today is a new day

I’m sobering up

While missing you the same

The days are getting better

I’m recalling the good days

I know that this year

I’ll remember your special day

by Jill Smith

Hope

Hoping for peace on Earth;
Wishing upon shooting stars;
Taking chances to make things right;
Helping others, and listening well;
Making problems disappear;
Giving heart in all we do;
To give love, and never take;
Will give us hope; and one day peace.

by Abegail Samson

Poem in October

It was my thirtieth year to heaven

Woke to my hearing from harbour and neighbour wood   

      And the mussel pooled and the heron

                  Priested shore

            The morning beckon

With water praying and call of seagull and rook

And the knock of sailing boats on the net webbed wall   

            Myself to set foot

                  That second

      In the still sleeping town and set forth.

      My birthday began with the water-

Birds and the birds of the winged trees flying my name   

      Above the farms and the white horses

                  And I rose   

            In rainy autumn

And walked abroad in a shower of all my days.

High tide and the heron dived when I took the road

            Over the border

                  And the gates

      Of the town closed as the town awoke.

      A springful of larks in a rolling

Cloud and the roadside bushes brimming with whistling   

      Blackbirds and the sun of October

                  Summery

            On the hill’s shoulder,

Here were fond climates and sweet singers suddenly   

Come in the morning where I wandered and listened   

            To the rain wringing

                  Wind blow cold

      In the wood faraway under me.

      Pale rain over the dwindling harbour

And over the sea wet church the size of a snail   

      With its horns through mist and the castle   

                  Brown as owls

            But all the gardens

Of spring and summer were blooming in the tall tales   

Beyond the border and under the lark full cloud.   

            There could I marvel

                  My birthday

      Away but the weather turned around.

      It turned away from the blithe country

And down the other air and the blue altered sky   

      Streamed again a wonder of summer

                  With apples

            Pears and red currants

And I saw in the turning so clearly a child’s

Forgotten mornings when he walked with his mother   

            Through the parables

                  Of sun light

      And the legends of the green chapels

      And the twice told fields of infancy

That his tears burned my cheeks and his heart moved in mine.   

      These were the woods the river and sea

                  Where a boy

            In the listening

Summertime of the dead whispered the truth of his joy   

To the trees and the stones and the fish in the tide.

            And the mystery

                  Sang alive

      Still in the water and singingbirds.

      And there could I marvel my birthday

Away but the weather turned around. And the true   

      Joy of the long dead child sang burning

                  In the sun.

            It was my thirtieth

Year to heaven stood there then in the summer noon   

Though the town below lay leaved with October blood.   

            O may my heart’s truth

                  Still be sung

      On this high hill in a year’s turning.

by Dylan Thomas

The Invitation

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for,
And if you dare to dream of meeting
Your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
For love, for your dream,
For the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon.
I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow,
If you have been opened by life's betrayals,
Or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain,
Mine or your own,
Without moving
To hide it or fade it or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy,
Mine or your own,
If you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
Without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic,
or to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true.
I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself,
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithless and therefore be trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see beauty
Even when it is not pretty every day,
And if you can source your life
From its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure,
Yours and mine,
And still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon,
"Yes!"

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair,
Weary and bruised to the bone,
And do what needs to be done for the children.

It doesn't interest me who you are, how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
In the center of the fire with me
And not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
From the inside
When all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
With yourself,
And if you truly like the company you keep
In the empty moments.


By Oriah Mountain Dreamer

A World of Lost Minds

The morning sun had set
now the night would beget
the sparkling stars that shine
speaking to this heart of mine

Where art thou Lord of dreams
I watch the ethereal streams of
haunted souls go by bringing 
tears to my eyes for all of their
needs

 For I am not content until I get
consent to enter the depths of
discernment to learn the measure
of your design so that you may
define my deeds

The systems of the world are meeting
manic minds  scheming  to  lay waste
causing hell in haste,  as the  liars who
live in lairs , can't get away from the
truths they fear, minds now lost

At what cost, the ignorant and numb
rely on the common sense of some
to save them from, the trials that lie
before us hoping to stem the evil course,
while they just find a place to play

Must the past be repeated, by the
indifferent who will retreat, allowing
things to pass them by, without even
trying to understand that our
nightmares have become a reality

by E T Waldron

The Rider

A boy told me

if he roller-skated fast enough

his loneliness couldn’t catch up to him,

the best reason I ever heard

for trying to be a champion.

What I wonder tonight

pedaling hard down King William Street

is if it translates to bicycles.

A victory! To leave your loneliness

panting behind you on some street corner

while you float free into a cloud of sudden azaleas,

pink petals that have never felt loneliness,

no matter how slowly they fell.


by Naomi Shihab Nye

Lost...

My Angel...
Where are you?
I'm lost, confused, alone...
I cannot see you...
There is darkness around me;
The fire has died, my light blown away
By an unwanted breeze...
I am wandering, going around and around
in circles...
Is there no end to this loneliness?

My Angel...
Where are you?
My heart is sad, it cannot hear your songs.
All I hear is the echo of your love,
Its melody fading...
Fading...
Fading...

Now there is only silence, maddening silence.
It is suffocating, draining my heart of your songs...
Is there no escape from this madness?

My Angel...
Where are you?
I am cold...
I cannot feel your wings around me,
Cannot feel your loving arms to embrace me...
There is only emptiness...
Emptiness that pulls, and pushes, and shoves...
The emptiness is within me, devouring me whole,
Leaving nothing left but an empty soul...
Where are you, my Angel? Come to me, fill me up with your love... Make me
whole again...
Do not leave me in this pit of despair...

My Angel...
Where are you?
I cannot see you, hear you, feel you...
Have you gone away from me? have you taken away my heart...

... My Angel,

... where are you?


by John Laset

Please Hold Onto Hope - A Personal Message from ne033x

Many of my friends and family know the "history" I have with my ex, Dara. Her drug addiction, and to be fair - mine too. I ended up quitting, and she didn't. She ended up literally losing everything, including her baby boy, Blaze, who I helped raise. I haven't spoken much of the details, but just know that for the past many months I have tried my very best to deal with an absolutely broken heart. You have no idea. I was in Blaze's life since he was just a few months old - changed his diapers, and tried my very best to show him a good world. He was my little buddy. And, he still is - will always be.

In the end, it wasn't about me and Dara, but this little child. He was taken away from his parents and put into foster care, and rightly so. It all depended on Dara to get clean to save him. I tried so hard to get her to realize this. I got frustrated often - even going so far as to tell her that Blaze doesn't deserve this, and that it was her fault. Not a day passed where I did not worry what Blaze was thinking of all of this. This is sense of pain and sorrow that no words can ever describe. What I have been dealing with.

Anyhow, a couple weeks ago, Dara came over and told me she was going to check into treatment for her drug addiction. I was so happy. BUT, I've heard it all before, so I just hoped it was true. She was that beautiful Dara I fell in love with, and I was just floored. I told her that I would literally do anything to help her with this. Well, she cleaned up my house, took care of me, and then all the sudden she was gone. I assumed she went back to her junkie buddies, and at this point, I literally lost all hope. If you watched my Queen music video, that's the story behind it. http://youtu.be/C0dKQrjkHEc

So, I didn't think it could get any worse, but it did - losing all hope in Dara getting better, and for saving Blaze from this bullshit he's had to see. Everything was now a pure struggle for me - just the simple act of getting out of bed in the morning. I felt lost, and everything just seemed hopeless.

Until yesterday...

The first thing that happened was - that morning - me admitting to one of my closest bros that no one understands the bond that Dara and me have. And, I know she's upset cuz I feel it. But, I can't do anything anymore cuz we'd came to the end of our journey together. I remember him telling me, 'you don't have to tell me what you and Dara have because I know.' And, it's the truth - Dara is my soulmate - we both know this. And, I am going to help illustrate this point.

About noon, a friend of mine stopped by and in conversation she brought up that she thought Dara had went to treatment after all. I was shocked - I said, "WHAT?" And, she told me that she didn't know for sure, but she thought Dara had went into the drug treatment program.

About an hour later, I go to my bro again, and I told him what I heard. I told him that I really needed to know for sure because it would literally change everything! I called my friend back and she told me Dara won't even be able to call or write for fifteen days, if she was in treatment. All I could think about was that I needed to know for sure - so I could stop trying to hate someone I love so much.

About an hour later, a call came from a Portland, Oregon number. It was Dara. The first thing she said was that she had this strong feeling that she needed to call me. She convinced the staff there that it was an emergency and called me from the office.

Man! Here's where my "manhood" comes into question because I started crying the minute I heard her voice. She'd been clean and in treatment for 5 days already, and she liked it. It was not as hard as she thought it would be. She has her own little apartment, and Blaze will be there in a couple weeks. Yes, it's a family drug abuse treatment program. She's in another city, far away, and she said the program will last months. I reassured her that I would literally do anything to help her with this! She needs anything - she better ask!

Anyhow, I know in my heart and soul that the change has taken hold of her life. This is a miracle. This is - literally - all that meant anything to me in life right now. We both told each other, 'I love you', and I am so happy. And, I'm writing this as an example.

Miracles do happen!

Look Well to This Day

Look well to this day,
For it and it alone is life.
In its brief course
Lie all the essence of your existence:

The Glory of Growth
The Satisfaction of Achievement
The Splendor of Beauty

For yesterday is but a dream,
And tomorrow is but a vision.
But today well lived makes every yesterday a dream of happiness,
And every tomorrow a vision of hope.

by Anonymous, 50 B.C.

An Autumn Leaf

Yesterday, I was the mist of the waterfall
Tomorrow I will be a raindrop
Racing toward my destiny
  But today
I am the cloud
Floating amidst the mountain peaks
The hangman's noose is empty
For I am life
  I cannot be destroyed
The winds of adversity
  Buffet and mould me
Yet I float free
I am freedom
The bird that flits happily
Among olive trees
I am the wind of the evergreen glades
  I am boundless
Without secrets, without fear
  I am love
The red ferns on mossy grass
  I am Now
This hour, eternity
I know no beginning or end

I cannot be destroyed.



by Immanual Joseph 

Lost

roaming heros search for a home
they wear their sleeves long
and practice their industrious ways
in hope that they may one day return
and recognise the class of what they once were
so long ago each day
so long ago

 by Terry Cummings

The Journey of Life

Walkin along the street,weary and down.

Unhappy at heart,my face had a frown.

The path was long,but i had to walk,

Lost in the world and no one to talk.

Suddenly there was a sound,

That was familiar to my ears

With an urge to hear it,

I had waited for years.

Seated on your bike,

You passed by my side.

My heart skipped a beat,

And I silently cried.

The time had stopped,

My eyes were wet.

Flashing came the thoughts,

Which i wanted to forget.

Two long years without your sight,

I had faced with all my might,

Oh God!!So long is this night,

And a battle so difficult to fight.

But never lose hopeis my belief,

Your thought is my greatest relief.

So true,a double edged knife,

Oh friend,that is the journey of life…….

Touched by An Angel

We, unaccustomed to courage

exiles from delight

live coiled in shells of loneliness

until love leaves its high holy temple

and comes into our sight

to liberate us into life.

Love arrives

and in its train come ecstasies

old memories of pleasure

ancient histories of pain.

Yet if we are bold,

love strikes away the chains of fear

from our souls.

We are weaned from our timidity

In the flush of love’s light

we dare be brave

And suddenly we see

that love costs all we are

and will ever be.

Yet it is only love

which sets us free.

A Bikers Prayer

May the sun rise in front of me.   

May the rain fall behind me and the wind follow me.

May the angels of my brothers and sisters who have gone before me 

Guard my travels, 

For they know the perils of the road ahead of me.

Keep me safe through the rough city streets 

On my way to the land of the swirling turns and rolling hills.

Let the turning colors of fall keep me warm. 

Let the eagle guide me to the mountain tops. 

Let the Moon's light guide me through the night.

May my tires not fail me, nor my engine grow old. 

May my bike draw life from the streams I pass.

Keep my seat soft and my mind sharp. 

Let the air of spring breathe life into my soul, 

To journey to another adventure 

Beside my brothers and sisters.