Grand Man Grandpa


Should this sweet bond be broken                                    Coy

What quick writing who thinks he doesn’t know                

He knew so much long ago

Clinging to what winter has sewn

Mending Holes of those once known

Going slow

Heading home


Wish I had written sooner so you would know

I’m honored to be part of your family


Will you shape nostalgically

What you knew when I couldn’t see

Feeling, love knowing me


Tattered faith will refreshingly remember the years God’s grace granted thee


There are nonetheless fraying threads inside your memory

Underneath where this broke through is a winter mind handing out its final salute.

Believe me when I say to you

Waving with respectful youth

Reason first that I’ve dreamed of you kneeling before God’s feet

Years ago, asking safety for saving your heart

Swallowing sea, unable to breathe.


Writing to my grandpa rising vision I plainly see

Our spoken words will make plenty want to sentimentally know this man

Who wanted us to quiver on bended knee

Worshiping for who his plowing brought seeds

And grants us life eternally


My sight is promised if I believe

Speaking to my youth

Watching you

I do


When faced with adversity you only showed integrity


My wish for you

My little speech

Try with your voicing authoritatively

Declaring definitively

My God, that boy can see!


Grandpa sampling what so wonderfully lives inside of me

Because you so lovingly took the time to plant a seed

Thank you from a twig of your tree

Love me

More Than Sum Squared Number

Beautiful numbers high as infinity
Nothing borrowed without consent
Ready sum worn insignificantly
Dragging variables shrinking sense
Arithmetic, fractions, division, geometry
Hugely gambled for abandoned rent
Nothing nostalgic in negativity
Fractals residing inside of me
Data, graphs, growing stats
Many signs factored thoroughly
More than less than greater tasks
Remaining intelligence owning symmetry
Measuring up, do the math
Show your work, needing class
Using numerals writing slowly
Numbers quoted values last
Quality multiplied exponentially
Nothing more than intelligent facts
Shaping equally
Squaring x’s in this rap


Hello Reader,
By serious counting, squares are where we multiply values gaining greater worth. Years really fly by juggling numbers in our heads going along each day. These numbers freely direct what we do. Add time aware calculating your value and square it. You count two.









Silent No More

Yesterday three treacherous things, hiding ingeniously inside of me, met, oddly forming a good idea, much to my numbing brain’s muse. Going nowhere I nodded, jumping thoughts, knowing very well as I ease awake, gathering in the stolen morning light, I may never speak my limit. Ringing in my silence, I escape writing ideas I single out describing the details in my head.
Knowing I reside in silence, most of my thoughts will not be shared. I think moments line up and before you blink you are sixteen. Nonverbal, squinting, my quick witty jokes become lost then never known. My nightly dream is that I awake speaking. Every day when I wake, I think today I will talk. I am here if you read. I hope my blog somehow helps others deficient in an audible voice by showing undiminished voice in my writing. Hi, my name is not silent e, but I wrote my story using that name. Could you help me be a voice here for those needing hope and a future with responsiveness? Typing has given my thoughts a way to be heard just like everyone deserves to be. Knowing juveniles exactly like me are living without their voices has fueled my inner desire to help. Can being understood accelerate change for others with autism? Far too many voices have silenced and are needing a way they hope can shed light on who they really are, but freeing their thoughts is very difficult.
Recognition went surprisingly well when I was able to communicate. We make assumptions through our appearances and, fearing that which is unfamiliar somehow, we restrict their abilities, bringing labels to their identity instead of seeing the person in front of us. Most will see someone with what is a very limited audible voice and think, simply, they can’t understand. My understanding is not impaired. I have some trouble with showing the words I’m using inside to respond and my body won’t follow my mind, most often needing someone to help me. Knowing and doing commence wanting physical feedback or words so my mind will retrace the next physical step to help my body react.
Lost in thinking worsens my need for help. Knowledge of my own writing merely opens those thoughts more, shrinking the silence, making me more sane.

Remember I’m a human first whose world is cruel if Silent e has no story to tell and no one to read it.
Thank you for hearing me never make a sound.
Silent e