Poetry

Safe-cracking

The elation is bubbling, it’s brewing inside,

wanting to escape my body, making my fingers want to twitch

and hands flap, like a great torrential tide.

I know I can release it,

no-one’s said I can’t.

Yet the stares and whispers from ghosts

keep the iron-grip I have on myself

as powerful as an attack with a lance.

But if I do it when no-one’s looking,

release the hold bit by bit,

perhaps I can let myself flick out this ball of energy

and have it leave me content and happy

without shaming myself to quit.

Poetry

My autism diagnosis was like a (super late) letter from Hogwarts

It’s the explanation for all my quirks, from my vacant gaze

during conversationsĀ to my comfort-first wardrobe.

It’s my Hogwarts Express ticket: once I jumped through the barrier

I finally allowed myself to be me, no longer forcing myself to hide.

I released all the movements I held back for fear of being weird: flapping, rocking,

spinning around and holding my arms wide to catch the breeze on my skin.

 

It’s true, I can’t vanish glass, stun anyone or cast a bat-bogey hex.

But I can talk for hours about writing, old books and Sailor Moon.

 

Some days I can be silent, absorbed deep in my work

or lacking the energy to even move my mouth

and it always bothered me why no-one else seemed to do this.

 

Now I’ve realised there are others out there like me, who prefer

teaspoons to big spoons, see patterns everywhere

and wear sunglasses in supermarkets.

 

Harry got a visit from Hagrid.

I spoke to a psychologist.

The news they gave changed our lives forever.

 

Poetry

Whale song

Imagine a whale floating across the sky.

You think it’s confused, swimming around up there

and not in the blue.

It doesn’t occur to you that your sky

is not sky, only a level of the ocean above you

because you’ve sunk so deep

that you’ve merged into sediment

where the pressure is holding you down

and this whale is trying to get its song to reach you

but can’t.

You’re already rock.

Poetry

Constant

We walked side by side between planets,

watched their oceans swell and fall

into stardust, theorizing how Saturn’s rings

may be its core

after its writhing energy tore out

to form its own globe.

 

The stars can be seen during day on Mercury,

but I can see them at any time I wish

in your eyes.

Our markers held well over the year,

the beats sounded and shook me giddy.

 

In the grain of that bench under the maples,

our echoes will reside forever.