What is love?
Does is come from above,
Someone tell me,
Someone help me,
I had love once,
Do I only get it once,
I ruined it all,
I feel like I’ve taken a fall,
He will forever hate me,
Never again date me,
I’d give anything for love,
I don’t just want a shove!

Right now I feel so alone,
I feel like I have been disowned,
I have no one to hug,
No one to bug,
I try to plead,
But deep down I just want to bleed and bleed,
I sit here on my bunk,
I feel like a flunk,
I look into the dark,
I wish I could just run through the park,
I cry my eyes out,
While I sit here and pout,
I feel all this pain,
Flowing through my veins,
I just want to get out of this place,
So I can have my own space.

All the hatred in your eyes,
You be ruining people’s lives,
You don’t care about what other people feel or say,
You just want them to go away,
You lash out because your afraid,
Afraid to be betrayed,
You walk around with your head to the ground,
You be buying things by the pound,
You’ve been through so much,
You could use just the right touch,
I sit and watch you cry your eyes out at night,
I watch you try to act fine in all, despite,
You want to know who this person is,
This person loves kids,
This person is me,
I just want to die and be free!

Why does everyone I care about got to die young,

There lives just get hung,

Deon killed himself,

Bet you right now he can’t live with himself,

Cameron drowned in Alkai Beach,

His dreams will never be reached,

Joey got shot,

Made it to the hospital was going to survive I thought,

Uncle Scott had a heart attack,

Without him I don’t feel in tack,

Aunty Pam got AIDS,

That horrible disease that needs to be re paid,

Over these passed years,

All these deaths just brought tears.

If only you could comprehend how hard life is for me,
I know I’m only a little boy, but my world I want to see,
Things are always changing right before my eyes,
But don’t you see I can’t change the direction of the tide?

It’s a different world I see, with my big brown eyes;
They call it autism, and they think it’s my demise.
What I’d like for them to know
Is that life is really about surprise.
Everyday is something different–Something very new;
A phone, a clock, no a watch. I mean a shoe.
Sometimes, I have a hard time expressing what I want.
And changing my mind, well… I do that a lot.

I have a hard time talking to people; please don’t think I’m rude.
But sometimes my words don’t work and I hit instead.
Now I really blew it, and no one wants to be my friend.
Some people are trying to find a cure for my autism right now as I speak.
But why do I need to be cured?
There is nothing wrong with me.

Please do not heal me, I’m not sick;
And instead of fixing me, enjoy my creativity.
My autism makes me who I am and sets me far apart.
But it only brings me closer to my family’s heart.

Autism is not something you should accept– It’s something to embrace;
For life with me is full of wonder and constant change.
I break up the monotony of daily life.
And although I don’t mean to, I sometimes cause some strife.

Autism changed me from all others except my kind.
And it has succeeded in showing the entire world,
That love and autism bind.

John De Le Hirate,
Was a drunk Irish pirate,
Whose ships sailed the seas,
And arms looked like trees.

He was on his way,
To gooddrinker bay,
When a nasty storm hit,
And the crew said, “Oh shit.”

The ship was a rockin,
And the lightnin’ a shockin,
But good ol’ Le Hirate,
Oh, what a pirate.

A beam cracked like hell,
And like a rag fell
But John grabbed a pint,
And took the beam with his might.

He threw it up,
Into its place,
With not a drop,
Of sweat upon his face,
He grabbed more ale,
And turned it up,
And with a grunt,
Slammed down his cup.
The crew let out a cheer,
As good John steered.

He led them out,
Of that dangerous place,
With a hearty laugh,
And grin on his face.

Suddenly the mast cracked
And with a thud fell
And sent ol’ Johny
Straight into hell.

Some men mourned,
And some men scourned.
But John De Le Hirate,
Damn! What a pirate!

Some heard him scream,
“Hell cannot have me,
I belong to the sea!”
And somehow he found,
His way out of the ground.

When he arrived on his deck,
he heard a loud cheer,
And lifted his pint,
full of cold beer.

Some say he lives,
Others deny.
But John De Le Hirate,
Could never die.

Shadows in the dark
Those creep under your blanket
Walking in the park

Emma was lying in her bed. Darkness surrounded her in a moonless, hot summer night. It was quiet, but the old house was whispering. Wooden planks were shrinking in the heat and rubbing against each other which made strange sounds. Emma was listening in her loneliness. Her parents had gone out and Emma was waiting for them to come back. Time was slowly creeping along.

Then the sounds grew louder and louder. There was noise in the attic. Someone was walking over the floor, someone with heavy boots. Emma pulled her blanket over her head and curled up like a hedgehog that was attacked by a dog. She squeezed Otty, her teddy Sea Otter, in her hand. She twisted its tail around her pointing finger of her other hand. Terrified Emma started sweating but she did not dare to breathe. After a while she let fast strokes of air in and out without making a single sound.

Should she scream? But the burglars probably thought the house was empty. They might hit her or even kill her. Ruffers could not protect her. It was only a toy-dog lying at her back making her even hotter. She could call someone, but the phone was downstairs. It was impossible to walk down the wooden stairs without making noise. It was even impossible to escape through the window, because it was ten feet high over the ground.

Very slowly Emma stretched her legs from under the blanket for cooling. Her blond curls were soaked in sweat. If only her parents would come home. Emma tried hard to glance at her clock. It was too dark to see anything. It would have been foolish to switch on the light, the burglars might see it. What were they doing in an attic full of hay and straw anyway? There was nothing to steal. Maybe they just entered the house over the roof. The attic had a door to the outside, so that hay and straw could be thrown in. This door had only a bolt from the inside, no lock.

From the attic door to Emma’s room was a long way to walk. The burglars first had to walk straight then right down a ladder to the granary. Right again a ladder went down to the hall. It was a big hall, big enough for a tractor and a wagon. At the southern top of the hall were four doors. Only one of them entered in the hallway to the living room and the bedrooms and bathrooms. From this hallway stairs went up to Emma’s and her sisters’ bedrooms.

Emma listened if she could hear any door opening. Nothing, the house had fallen silent again, just the usual cracking of wooden planks. If only the parents would come home. A car passed by. For less than a second there was light in Emma’s room. Was someone standing in the corner? Emma’s green eyes moved wildly in fear like a cat attacked by a badger.

Was there some noise from the living room and the study? Emma could not tell. Her young heart was pounding like a hammer. In those rooms was stuff worth stealing, not in Emma’s. However, Emma’s pajama was soaked. Beads of perspiration were tickling her back. Emma did not dare to move, so no one would notice her. Keeping still was harder than running a marathon, especially for a teenager like Emma.

Emma waited for another car. It seemed to take hours, but the one corner in her room was too dark to see anybody. Then the noise in the attic started again. So, were the burglars leaving? Was she supposed to call for help now? Emma did not move a muscle. She waited to hear a car leave, but it did not. Emma fell asleep.

The next morning Emma was totally cranky and dog-tired when she shambled into the kitchen. Did she have a nightmare? When did her parents come home? She did not hear them. There was no excitement, no police.

“I was just in the attic to throw down some hay and guess what I found there?” said Emma’s mother to her father.
“That marten had been steeling eggs again. I found five empty egg shells in the hay.”

you can make me
and shape me
fix me
and take me
use me
break me
you own me
im your property
obey commands
and endless desires
after all, im only made up
of a bunch of wires
emotions of a rock
heart of stone
built for you
and what you wish me to do
you turn me on and off
you input your demand
i then respond
as fast as my CPU* can
im running low on battery
please plug me in
need to have energy
running within
———————————————————
*= central procesing unit.

We’re not fragile like the broken wine glass shattered on the kitcken floor

waiting to be swept up by the dust pan.

We’re hearty like one of those plastic cups

that’s been through many cycle in the dish washer covered

with teeth marks from the kids.

excuse me for a moment while I slip

into the bathroom floor to spill my guts along the floor.

once again I’m falling back into that nervous habit of mine;

shaky nerves can’t take this anymore.