Tag Archive: World Autism Awareness Day


Adjust the Tracking

In your own world,
smiling.
People look at you
very strange.
What goes on inside that head
which appears confused to us?
Perhaps it is we, the unusual
and you, correct.
Rational.
We can only gape in awe,
wondering how you cope.
You glance at us,
see madness,
frustrate at our disabilities.
What’s the matter with our world
that everything seems so weird?
There is nothing amiss.
You are a vinyl record
playing at the wrong speed.
Tracking needing adjustment
so we can understand a happy soul
content in his own universe.

© Antony N Britt

Autism Awareness Day 2 April 2012

Middlefield

Summer of ’85.
Middlefield.
A home meant for people in poor mental health.
I called it an institution,
somewhere to put the unwanted.
Hide the embarrassment.
“There is no place in polite company
for people such as these,”
so spoke the message of the day.

Disabled,
epileptic,
autistic,
downs.
Spelled dead to society
along with unmarried mothers,
labelled insane,
then shut away,
their children
torn from the breast.
Unruly youngsters,
uncontrollable,
removed from circulation.

I remember one such a man,
Albert, we’ll call him,
because after all this time
I’m not even sure of his name.
Incarcerated at twelve,
unfathomable,
too difficult to handle.
Then, seventy five,
a gentle old soul.
He spoke about cricket
and the big wartime bands.
Always a cheery smile,
a precursor to the request.
Could I check if there was a letter?
One from his mum and dad.
“It’s been such a long time,” he sighed.
There was never any mail.

An uncaring world, back then;
maybe it is now.
I’m ashamed I do not remember his name
and I always wonder
if his family ever did.

 

© Antony N Britt

%d bloggers like this: