Words Create Me

As well as I do in communicating via the structures of written word, I do that much better in communicating via the written word in pure description, pure words and a seeming lack of structure.

Of the people who have read my poetry, a majority of them have noted on how it’s often unlike most poetry they have seen written, just in its style–or maybe its intent. I believe that I think in sensations (visual, aural, you name it, I got it), and then from there I translate. But poetry allows me to go back to the pure form and rhythm. And there are certain times when I feel myself needing to communicate in more than just words, or more than just art, or music; I need some combination of the three, but as of yet, I don’t have it.

You see, when I imagine something, I don’t just see it, but I touch it; I smell it; I hear it (if there is a sound to be heard); I taste it (likewise, if there is a taste). I sense it. Perhaps that’s why there are those who accuse me of focusing too much on how I feel; for me, there’s no question of turning it off and on; it just is.

Speaking of “is,” think about how you feel when you walk outside into a warm environment. You don’t have to think to yourself that “gee, it’s warm outside,” but rather, it’s just something you experience. I don’t know; the more I find out about other people, the more I realize that the perceptions that I have always taken for granted are the exception, rather than the standard.

cold wind blowing in my face
smell of dead trees in the air
blindly walking forwards

reaching out arms
met with broken darkness
eery toothless silence
gumming its way past my ears
into my brain

blue, but mostly black
gray with dirt
smeared glasses
blurry figures

standing around me
watching me stumble
seeing what I don’t

thinking crunchy thoughts
pushing past them
raspy fingertips on my arms
on my neck

chilling me, shaking me
can’t see, won’t look
they’re everywhere
close my eyes

and run, feet pounding
tripping over obstacles
violently afraid
falling through helpless air

curled so tight
holding on
my mind, my ears
screaming a voiceless scream

matching the shrieking wind
never landing the same plac twice
bouncing, sliding
down a glassy incline

cold cuts into my back
bruises under clothes
from impacts of sharp rocks
raining down around me

burning with speed
internal vibrations
threatening to shake me apart
split me inside-out

gravity no longer working
could fly off the ground
afraid of heights
glad when I do land at last

nestled in deep chilling mud
settles thickly around me
dulling my movements
constricting my chest
choking the life out of me

I can hear them
thoughts around me
poking me with sticks
wide-eyed jabs

something beneath my skin
struggles to break free
pushing me farther down
by pulling itself up

stench of gagging
chittering rodents fall
on my rotting flesh

as the figures stand around
watching me struggle
glaring with needles
rusty knives

sharp dagger teeth in my neck
voices all standing up together
pushing me farther into the muck

too many here
blocking out the light
can’t move

while bladed prongs work their way
out into the air
slaying the rats
breaking the glares
slashing at the turmoil within

and around
screaming, sinking farther
past nowhere
past forwards

all that is me
is not complete
two halves broken out
one without body
one without soul

fighting
crying
screaming
hiding
being different

different words
same meaning

Words create me forwards to backwards and backwards to forwards me create words.

An example of a word order palindromic sentence.

But check this out; word order palindromic poetry.

Batman, am I barely complete?
am I somehow, however, hurt?
I know others that say norms of life with people
means certain lifestyles and
standards set between good and bad,
everyone is different, yet same
the autism makes everyone strange and
is that too odd?
autistics are special
is Batman different?
somewhat different
Batman is special
are autistics really odd too?
that is strange
everyone makes autism the same
yet different is everyone
bad and good between set standards
and lifestyles certain
means people with “life of norms” say that
others know I hurt
somehow, however, I am complete
Barely, I am Batman

  • I think I might start ending posts with quotes. So granted, this is a Flash quote from a fan fiction, but it’s Te style fan fiction, so it’s GOOD. That and it made me giggle hysterically for about 3.9 seconds.

Mostly, he just tried to keep his mouth shut, because Batman was there*, yeah, but Batman was doing that thing where he was like “I’m glaring at you with my whole body” and Superman was doing that thing where *he* was like “I know I’m right but I’m way too nice to say so,” and it was a lot like being in the back of the station wagon when your parents have been bickering for three states and you had to pee.

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~ by lastcrazyhorn on December 31, 2007.

3 Responses to “Words Create Me”

  1. Awesome post. I have a passionate love relationship with words too – although i’m nowhere near as good at doing what i want with them (i haven’t tried to write poetry since i was about 15, and what i used to write was so cringeworthily awful that i sincerely hope it no longer exists).

    I think you might like Ms Crip Chick’s blog. She’s an awesome poet as well…

    Oh yeah BTW my latest post was partially inspired by you… 😉

  2. Wow- they’re both great! I can really feel the experience in the first poem, and the second one gave me chills in it’s “palindrome-ness”. Awesome writing.

  3. Woot! Thanks. 🙂 I’ve discovered that when you say something backwards, it often doesn’t mean the same thing that it did forwards. 🙂

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