Hello! My mame is Melinda Smith. I am mother to two boys, aged seven and five (there has been a birthday in the family since the last post !). My seven year old has autism spectrum disorder. I am also a poet...
This is the sixth in a series of seven autism poems I'll be sharing as guest posts on the Scottish Autism blog. This poem is in the voice of a parent / carer / friend of an autistic child, looking on helplessly while the child has a total meltdown.
In case you're wondering, the extra spaces are intentional.
I should also note that this poem was written with the support of ArtsACT.
:autistic meltdown ground zero
Think of hemispheres: Western, Left;
the wind-flows that connect them; the currents of sea; of electricity.
When was it that your frontal lobe
Cauterized itself against your will
leaving you endless atomised local storms
with no way to blow them -selves out?
The last words you said before the clouds came
stutter on your small tongue;
settle in like cat-and -dog rain, the syllables
hammering down, fixing one thought with a dozen stabs of lightning.
The miracle is not that it stops, but how afterwards you can be so calm and charming
- and puzzled that the rest of us still drip and shiver from the rain.
(c) Melinda Smith 2011