"Understanding Silence" Reposting!

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My mother was a wild spirit who
ran away at 17. She didn't see
a connectedness to her mother.
How is she suppose to see it
in me and my eye's of oceans
depth.

Submissive and paying no mind
to consequence she will have harvested
many seeds. Each one as silent
as she.

My Grandmother tells me a car
accident robs me of my hearing
but the non-compassionate mother
didn't care. I lay in a crib for
2 years not hearing the ocean but
seeing it's vastness.

My Grandmother tells me that I
play silently, in my silent ocean
that is the world. I go to
various schools to go from
baby talk to the silent one
I will have become from the silent
mother of non-compasionate.

I lived in autistic world and a silent
world that was formed of pictures
and sound taught to me thanks
to a non-compassionate mother.

I and my Grandmother agree, that
some people shouldnt' have kids.

Play silently, I am behind this computer
and stay silent externally, and regarless
of being 2 and 39, I still lived in a
silent world and had to learn compassion.


This is enough for now, I will write
later on this topic. I correct in
my observations of NLVD and Autism.


Most revealed,
Ghosthunter

THIS IS A REPRINT DUE TO 5/13'S GLITCHES IN
POSTING!

I say thank you BeeBee, LB, Sophist, Blackliger,
for your posts, and I regret that I have to repost
this, but due to posting errors yesterday, please
continue as I have put much blood letting to get
to point in my re-discovery of my person.

Sincerely,
Ghosthunter

Hmmm....your mom wasn't much better than mine.

Ghosthunter, this post was beauitful, I like the way you express things.

Try not to be too hard on your mother: I think that there is *something* what I do not know, but genetic, where aspies and auties are more likely to have ditzy, loopy, or unstable moms. i suspect that my mom was bi-polar. Understanding this has made me realize that she will never be the typical mom...and it is easier to forgive much of what went on with her. She never asked to be that way, and it's a struggle for her to merely sustain herself. Mayeb your mom is a little like this too.

But yeah, my mom is one of those who shouldn't have had kids.

Unstable was my mother's middle name.

Any time i notice a way she influence who I am today, I cringe.

Ghosthunter, you write beautiful poetry about your personal pains. I am a poet, myself, but I wish I had the words to speak of my pain as eloquently as you. I am too near it and become dumb in the face of it. So, I write of others who are only a reflection in the end of myself.

A Poem:

This Is Just to Say

after Williams Carlos Williams

I had imagined, maybe only once or twice,
that I saw you looking for a moment—not through me or beyond me,
not as if I were a pane of glass, nor less—
but had once or twice seen into me. That you ignored the further horizon for all its
mystery

and saw little mystery in me, but were content in looking
just once or twice.

Other times,
I’ve wondered if I had been born a cloud or a tree line—or even a few black specks
against your enigmatic skies
which you always say to me in a smile “Birds!”
and point as though I can see past you—
I’ve wondered if I were all these things
or just one
if you could find me—find me mysterious, finally.
And perhaps see into me more than once, or twice, or never.

But for all the horizons and specks of birds and the occasional cloud
wandering past in those dry, dry summers you’re so fond of, too,

once or twice—or more— I’ve wondered:
Have I ever truly seen you?