• Welcome to Autism Forums, a friendly forum to discuss Aspergers Syndrome, Autism, High Functioning Autism and related conditions.

    Your voice is missing! You will need to register to get access to the following site features:
    • Reply to discussions and create your own threads.
    • Our modern chat room. No add-ons or extensions required, just login and start chatting!
    • Private Member only forums for more serious discussions that you may wish to not have guests or search engines access to.
    • Your very own blog. Write about anything you like on your own individual blog.

    We hope to see you as a part of our community soon! Please also check us out @ https://www.twitter.com/aspiescentral


Jewish man kissing a Catholic woman....
Post your favorite poems or poems you have written.

By Sparticus

She appeared
As if out of a fog
In a daze the Warrior’s
Eyes Glazed
Too long a trail.

She breathed life back into his heart
His soul was still dark
The Wolf Warrior saw his Village
All burned and everyone dead or scattered

Living off the edge
He couldn’t come back…
He approached his relatives Village
She stepped forward
He had known her family

She touched his cheek
And put her head
On his chest
The love of a woman
Filled his soul
With Sunlight again

The Warrior became alive
His eyes smiled
Walking among the People
He helped the Elders & the sick
His woman smiled and watched him
She too had a long trail

Both now were very happy
At night in their tipi
You could hear loud laughter
His new woman had healed him
And he admired and loved her so.

C2010-2014 sei

By Sparticus

Found her crawling last night on my lampshade
Dust hanging off of her butt
Round & round she walked around the hot lampshade.
It was 100 degrees outside & barely cool inside.
Ladybug I must save you from that hot lampshade

Her burnt Orange color
12 or so dots; some seemed to merge
With each other
She had a whitish & black head
Asian ladybug
Funny how exotic women
find me!@

Ladybug you must be thirsty?
As she walked, I took off most of the dust
Hanging on her butt

But she fell off my lampshade!

I wanted to cry & die all at the same time
Ladybug! Where art thou goes?

I looked but didn’t find her.
Next morning I found her on her back
On my filing cabinet.
Fighting her last thirsty gasps?

I put her rightside up
but she kept toppling over
on her back...legs kicking...

Quickly I put some water on a
Cotton swab
And put the swab next to her
She climbed on top & her front legs
Moved over the moist swab.

Was she drinking or too weak to get off the swab?
Did I drown her or save her?
Was it too late?!@
She was frantic
and like a nervous lover
watching over a sick partner
I intently watched & prayed

Finally she seemed content
she wasn't moving her
legs so fast no more
She appeared settled on
the water soaked q tip
Slowly now moving her legs
over the moisture

Creator save this lady bug please
You save one life you save the world

C2011-2014 all rights reserved
I'm not really a poetry person, but here's one of my favorite poems by my all-time favorite poet, Walt Whitman:

WHEN I heard the learn’d astronomer;
When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me;
When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and measure them;
When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room,
How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; 5
Till rising and gliding out, I wander’d off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time,
Look’d up in perfect silence at the stars.
Let Me Make This Perfectly Clear
by Gwendolyn MacEwen - Refer to: Canadian Poetry Online | University of Toronto Libraries | Gwendolyn MacEwen

Let me make this perfectly clear.
I have never written anything because it is a Poem.
This is a mistake you always make about me,
A dangerous mistake. I promise you
I am not writing this because it is a Poem.

You suspect this is a posture or an act
I am sorry to tell you it is not an act.

You actually think I care if this
Poem gets off the ground or not. Well
I don't care if this poem gets off the ground or not
And neither should you.
All I have every cared about
And all you should ever care about
Is what happens when you lift your eyes from this page.

Do not think for one minute it is the Poem that matters.
Is is not the Poem that matters.
You can shove the Poem.
What matters is what is out there in the large dark
and in the long light,
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

Despite the appearing simplicity of the poem, I feel that it has a rather deep meaning, and because of this, it is one of my favorite poems.
Last edited:
Here's a poem I just wrote.

Does poetry have to be clever?
provocative at least right? I guess I care cause I care what you think,
you the person reading this
but I think that's realistic, to care
and necessary, to be open.
Poetry doesn't feel natural, to me at least
Naturalistic observation anyone?
But what I think what makes poetry great, is when you discover something,
deep inside that you didn't even know was lurking there.
Something, that is pure.
I don't write poetry but do write songs, here is one I wrote a few years ago what do you think?
Forest Fire

Smouldering embers lay amongst the scattered ash
Ancient trees reduced to charred stumps and guttered logs
Forest Fire

Acres of green devoured by merciless flames
All life fleeing the devastation and horror
Forest Fire

But the seeds in the soil
And the showers from the sky
Germination, green shoots


Remnants returning
Bigger & better
Forest flourishing

Like the phoenix rising from it ashes
The forest rises soon
Overshadowing its former self
With renewed vigour the new growth
Creates something stronger & healthier then before

Grappling grief
Overcoming obstacles
Flowers in full bloom

Can you feel her?
Pouring her soul
Onto you?

Can you smell her?
Hair, skin & love

Can you hold her?
As she gyrates
To the music
Of the Universe.

Is She not perfect?
That Creator built her
To be your friend

Can you feel her?
As you cover her body
Your heart over her heart
Your soul with her soul.

C 2011-2014 sei
All rights reserved
as published on other websites
I felt like I needed to write this the other day:


Can’t you see I’m not like you
Can’t you give me a brake
Who want to be the same
Who doesn’t want to be unique

Why do you hate me
It’s not my fault
I didn’t chose this
Why don’t you just die

Things didn’t need to be this way
Things could have been prevented
I wish I could change it all
I wish you could accept me

Why do you hate me
It’s not my fault
I didn’t chose this
Why don’t you just die

I don’t know how to go on
My dreams have been shattered
I just want crawl into a hole

It is another song for by band. It is trying to explore my treatment at my last job. I still feel a little wounded.
Wrote this for a sensitive caring sister of my ex-girlfriend who died:


By Sparticus

She who Touched our Souls (Patty) went to the over side of the stream.
Her mother, father and brothers welcomed her.
Rarely in life are we privileged to know someone
Of such deep empathy, sensitivity, laughter and healing.

Part of her spirit and soul are inside of us all.
Her soft understanding, easy manner and soul filled
With good humor still affects us.

Some of us did not know her well
But her presence always lifted up our spirits
Patty always cared. And had a band aid
For our sometimes sad hearts.
Just a hug from her healed us.

Her electrical energy was always positive.
She moved thru our Village of People
Easily in a graceful manner

Wife of Bobby, mother to Patricia, Robbie & Michael
& Grandmother
She will always be remembered
Let us all bow our heads
And feel her happiness

Let us give thanks to our Creator
For having been blessed
To having known
She Who Touched Our Souls

Her body has gone back to Mothernature
Her soul and energy spirit temporary lingers
She is here now
You may talk to her in your dreams.
For she will visit you

C2010-2014 all her relatives
Trying not to cry, this was the song for my first girlfriend and me. I've never had another song with any other woman. I tried to google her and find her but couldn't.
Song brings back memories...


"The Closer I Get To You"
(feat. Beyonce Knowles)

"The closer I get to you
The more you make me see
By giving me all you've got
Your love has captured me
Over and over again
I try to tell myself that we
Could never be more than friends
And all the while inside
I knew it was real
The way you make me feel
Lying here next to you
Time just seems to fly
Needing you more and more
Let's give love a try
Sweeter and sweeter love grows
And heaven's there for those
Who fool the tricks of time
With hearts in love will find
True love
In a special way
The closer I get to you
The more you make me see
By giving me what you've got
Your love has captured me
Over and over again
I try to tell myself that we
Could never be more than friends
And all the while inside
I knew this was real (got to be real)
The way you make me feel (you know)
My baby, my baby, my baby, my love
Come a little closer so we can see into the eyes of love
Just a little a closer let me speak to you
I wanna tell you something
Here I am-- I just want you to come closer
Come a little closer let me whisper in your ear
‘Cause I wanna tell you something
Move a little a little closer we can say for real
The way we feel about each other’s lovin’… "
You who never arrived
in my arms, Beloved, who were lost
from the start,
I don't even know what songs
would please you. I have given up trying
to recognize you in the surging wave of
the next moment. All the immense
images in me -- the far-off, deeply-felt landscape,
cities, towers, and bridges, and un-
suspected turns in the path,
and those powerful lands that were once
pulsing with the life of the gods--
all rise within me to mean
you, who forever elude me.

You, Beloved, who are all
the gardens I have ever gazed at,
longing. An open window
in a country house-- , and you almost
stepped out, pensive, to meet me. Streets that I chanced
you had just walked down them and vanished.
And sometimes, in a shop, the mirrors
were still dizzy with your presence and, startled, gave back
my too-sudden image. Who knows? Perhaps the same
bird echoed through both of us
yesterday, separate, in the evening...

Rainier Maria Rilke
Wintertime's favorite poet and kindred soul

Maybe one day I would share one of my own, but I don't have any good ones that I can think of right now.
How can we go on?


Life obviously was never meant to be easy

A constant struggle since we were born

No one offers to helps out anyone anymore

Except for the infrequent odd special person

Why must everything be so hard

Can’t we get a break

I don’t know what to do next

How can we go on?

The government only destroy any hope

They will end up governing over the ashes

The ashes of their subjects they did not save

And the scorched, burnt out world that is left

Why must everything be so hard

Can’t we get a break

I don’t know what to do next

How can we go on?

Trying to stay positive

Next to impossible

Just stick head into sand

Or watch butterflies flutter

Why must everything be so hard

Can’t we get a break

I don’t know what to do next

How can we go on?

New Threads

Top Bottom