The Carpenter #Poetry

Dedicated to my friend M.

Like Father, like son

he’s up before dawn,

Saw dust dances

& glitters like gold

in the early morning sun,

Tired old hands carving

moving – ever – so – slowly

along those curves,

He sands grooves silk smooth

with an almost loving caress,

His wise owl eyes observe and


taking in every inch as though its own mile,

He tilts his head and rubs his stubble //

and he leans back and laughs awhile.

He sees a diamond in the rough

where others saw rubble,

He’s not unaware of what falling has taught him,

He sees these scraps of wood are

not unlike his own scars,

He crouches at rock bottom //

He knows where to start

because the wise way

to build is up…

So with the wisdom of Joseph;

and the strength of old Judah-

The carpenter lays

the foundation for

what will one day

become // his own hallelujah.

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Labyrinth #Poetry

A spiral of knowledge

and labyrinth of tiny

epiphanies and truths,

Small stepping stones of faith

of every single hue,

This is a pilgrimage and

yet the journey for each of us

is extraordinarily different,

Your bare feet shifting through

beads of dew glittering,

Behind my worn leather sandals,

In the sunshine sifting through the heavens,

As we press onwards-

In His grand design and circle

towards the heart of it all.

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It’s Time

The warmth of my hands cradles your anger much the same way the summer days mellow the ice cubes that clink in your glass of lemonade,

Much the same way that a mother rocks her child whose crying fades as they listen to the lullaby of her heartbeat,

Much like how sunlight bathes the night in shades of iridescent hope that we call starlight and tugs on the eyelids of the universe to wake it to a new day,

I long to heal that wound of yours. I see it so clearly because it is a reflection of my own and yet I’ve learned to let go. My friend, let go-

I long to watch your snowy anger that frosts your soul melt to the Springtime of your spirit- how long will Winter be your season?

How long will anger be your answer to my compassion? How long will you paint your words with ice that no longer serves you?

That Blizzard is decades gone now. The salve is compassion. The reason is soft. The answer is love. It’s time to heal.

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You Belong – A Poem

Artwork by Catrin Welz-Stein . Written for prompt at DversePoets.

You are home

in mind & heart,

You belong – just as you are.

Betwixt this business

between the

nostalgic magic of

sleeping sunbeams

and the reality of a

million imperfect stars-

You are enough-

You are home,

You are not alone-

and you are loved.

Posted in Autism | 6 Comments

So Let Me – #Poetry

I am a jig saw puzzle,

Don’t you dare judge what

looks like a missing piece-

I’ve paid for that scar in full.

& I’m not aiming to please,

Do not mock my struggle-

I am not broken at all,

I can only be me – so let me.

I’m a forever work-in-progress-

and I am not ashamed of this,

I slide my fingers across my face in blue, red, orange, green-

Because not one single color defines me.

I am a jig saw puzzle,

Don’t you dare judge what

looks like a missing piece-

I’ve paid for that scar in full.

& I’m not aiming to please,

Do not mock my struggle-

I am not broken at all,

I can only be me…

So let me.

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Looking Glass – A Poem

Written for dVersePoet’s Mirror Prompt

Have we met before?

In what century did we meet?

Why is your heart beat/ing-

b A c K w A r D s

on your tattered sleeve?

Where is the light switch in here?

I can barely see…

Beyond the fire in your eyes,

that matches mine

Do not be afraid.

I’m closer than I appear.

You are not alone,

Beneath all the dust

you’ll see the truth-

Breathe & look closely-

It’s the glass that’s broken

Alice… not you.

Posted in Autism, dVersePoets Prompt, Poetry | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 9 Comments

The View from Rock Bottom

Over the last several years, I have seen a lot of loss. Often times, when a news outlet would cover my story I would hide all reasons to frown and focus on all of the wonderful things that were happening in my life instead. But pain is something we can all relate to.

What would the story that Fox 26, in Houston, covered on my life have looked like if they had known I was homeless? I had spent money I didn’t have that day to have my hair done and attempted to smile as genuinely as I could for the camera.

My goal was to inspire others with the interview and let them know I was giving a talk locally. If only they had known how anxious I was to walk into that library that day. At the time I had felt incredibly broken but I was determined to be there for anyone who did show up. I had recently lost everything I had owned; except my hope.

What would the story that The Chronicle in Boston have looked like if they had known I had just separated from my spouse days before the story? Again, I thought that what would speak to everyone was if I just smiled at the camera and acted like I was like everyone else. But today, I am sitting here and realizing that, not only am I nothing like most people, that is my whole message in my children’s books. I have overcome tremendous adversity to be where I am today. That is what people will relate to.

As a member of the LGBT community and as an individual with Autism Spectrum Disorder (formerly diagnosed with Asperger Syndrome), I want to be able to be real when I advocate and not just a smiling face that they may not understand although I’ve been told that my facial expressions are rather priceless (That’s an Autism thing). I want people to know that they are not alone. I’ve been asked if I’m famous. The answer is no. I don’t need fame. What I need is to make a difference. What I need is the ability to share my story. I can only speak for myself and no one else, but I think my message is one of unity and one that many would stand behind.

I have survived domestic violence, I have experienced rape, and I have been homeless more than once. By the grace of God, with the help of some amazing folks, and my own sheer determination to never give up, I am still here today. In school I was tormented for being different. I had food thrown at me, rocks thrown at me, and chairs pulled from underneath me. I know that so many others experience this on a daily basis and I want so badly, with all my heart, to let them know not to give up and also find a way, to encourage those who do bully others, to find peace and healing for themselves to end the cycle of pain one day.

Most of the articles about me sort of paint a different picture. But this is real. This is me; I want to help others who know this pain too and so I am speaking out now. You are never alone. Don’t give up; Don’t lose hope.

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