Not Disabled

My kind cousin Emmy asked me how  my disabilities  effect me. She was writing about nonverbal people with autism. I think my readers may also wonder the same as she did. This was my reply.

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Please understand that who I am is not defined by what I am unable to do. Piquing my curiosity more, I wonder, who will understand voices with no sound?

Undefined vision makes my world more visually unique. Pieces open in my sight friends, all the time. Using new vision my understanding of why people said I was blind is more clear. Seeing like I do places perspective right where it should be. When I make new friends I easily see in their heart with love.

Share some love. Take time to hear what voicing with no sound will teach you about words. They should be given much thought.

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Purpose Me

You want words to voice like popcorn spilling out quickly, freely, and calling each sense to img_0002wander in like a party has begun.

Having no speech places me in an unusual predicament. People tend to ignore me. Quietly I listen. When I am spoken to, volume rises. Communication is a fundamental part of life. Deep in night fear I fight back with my dreams. I am intelligent, with an appreciation for little things, like people in public places who speak to me like the knowledge of who I am inside pushes past my rough shell of unvoiced thoughts.

Writing helps push my inner voice out, keeping me pursuing my dreams.  Pursuing a dream gives purpose to life. Please help me wake my purpose by greeting me with who you are and what purpose you seek in your life.

Thank you for hearing me never make a sound.

Sincerely,

Silent e

 

Writing On Obi’s Back

Healing on grounds not white like church but full of love and dirt

Knowing where prayers fill the air God whispers love

All who ride free know hope found in hooves like wings

Horses raced with shows filling bigger plans

Named and representing the Arabian pure breed

Supporting those with unique needs

Lucky few who grew leading you

Harness gripping

Safely saddled

Riding on round paths

Writing on Obi’s back

Making powerful prayer requests

Watching

Knowing

Trotting

Growing

Friendly surrender

Playful tail whip

Funny mouth twitch

Lucky few who grew guiding you

Writing to say what we reveal was it was you guiding my rides

while teaching me life is knowing happiness will bring hope to others

by giving kindly of yourself

Surprising pull

Quiet resistance

A reminder who you are

Learning respect

Luxurious youth

Why would you rightly choose to listen to me

Knowing already you’re sharing the lead

Shaping me

Knowing Obi will be forever growing wings of hope inside

So one day with them I can fly

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Sharing The Key

To Whispering Through,

 

Torment whole and real

No way to say how you feel

 

Glimmering in the much filling light

Praying over ripped dreams

Waking to your silent scream

 

These healing words I send

Texting you

Seemingly others ascending through

Voicing typed with six years flying by

Words keeping knowledge alive

 

Yesterday holds incomplete thoughts

Quietly spoken

Fluent whispers

 

Following the lock knowing the way through is with the keys to light your way

Use the letters and spell what others simply say

 

My request is as soon as the voice inside has freed

Light the way

Share the key

 

Your friend,

Silent e

 

Moments shared with our storms residing seriously make our acknowledgment of friendships more valuable. Glad for the new friends I am able to make. Knowing how I can talk more quickly helps me make more meaningful relationships. Passing kindness, presenting much needed help, taking the time to share how those with no voice can be heard. Sharing The Key is a new message in my efforts to help others like me.

 

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.
Sincerely,
Silent e