Disabilities Verse Poetics:

An Experiment in Accessible Design

or Dyslexia Unbound

Metered
Steps

toward

Freedom modeerF
Poems Composed for AmericanSapphoSonnetblog and Other Measures
AmericanSappho@twitter,FB,youtube,Scrib’d

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To Matthew Ramos-Nishita

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Wellness Wish for Rehabilitation Spoke Persephone

Persephone of the Songstresses, she

arose and spoke without dissimulation, a
verse of Successive Despairs spinning round
a Thread of Blue Pigmentation and Hue.
I broke my silence and then it broke me.
Painful as Torn Skin when Brushed by the wind
that Severs defenses then Opens doors.
I synechdosyze and part ways with myself.
I'ma Disassociative Depressive.
I'ma a reed of resilience in Verses,
I accommodate them on the Sofa.
I let them be a while then they must go.
Go inside, find peace and solace, Hallowed
Retrieval. Be mine again, be unstirred
in tranquility and wellness of Word.

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Disability Decima

I've earned my Poetic Freedom.

I followed the Rules and broke them
but not before they hit me for I am
a Civil Rebel Crew,
a Poetrix just spinning Rhyme.
There's more than 1 of me and I count
for two, the Iambic Blue Shoes
of my Freedom's ability
and my Disability Family
making it with Difficulty.

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I hear the cries as the poet relates them "to a
mousie"

Where would I be
had you not survived
by the rafters
of Poesy,
my father muse?

I'd not be here

with a mousie
who watches his home
when the Bulldozers
get here

I hear the cries

as the poet
relates them
"to a mousie"

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Disability Verse (no not Curse): Our Verse will
hit the Dart in the Bull'sEye

Come take a Course with Sappho, no Matter

if you are Ill, down deep and Depressed.
Poetry can Heal a Nervous Wreck, A-
D-D- (Oh, I forgot where?) The Records
we'll set them Straight or Curvy what the Hell
All Shapes and Sizes all Neurons Welcomed.
Any Uptakers? Ridalin? Okay
no hay problema. We will Educate
ourselves and all the Falsies Too who Think
that they are Better and Smarter for when
asked they answer 2+2.While numbers
we Use them Wryly Stitching Metered Lines
to Prosodize the Ableist's Mythic Lies:
YES! Verse hits the Bullshit Eye's Everytime.

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Hate is not a Truth and it's not a Thought, yet
It is Fine Soil for A Sonnet

Only with great sacrifice and with Pain,

the Raging melody of Racism,
violence and Abuse Spun Around Again,
I turned my Target into a Flower.

My Target was a Wound that Bled Petals

of Despair for every Smear. Jealousy
too! my Silken Veins and Yellow Pollen
favored by the Bees who sucked my Honey,

So, Many are the Always I Multiply

my Beauty when the Epithets I hear,
each "Dirty Mexican" that comes to My
ears is the Eternal Verse of Shakespeare.

Hate is not a Truth! Hate is not a Thought,

Yet it is Fine Soil for a Sonnet!

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the Eternal Worth Creation, Origin, Self-
Evident. The Sonnet Americanus. I AM.

What am I a Mountain of Verses Green

and Red, Watered Words that keep Flowing?
They belong to You! I just pick Them Up,
Dry them off and Re-arrange Them
in Shakespeare's Fetish Form. His Favorite Love
was Infinity, a Christian of Course
just like the Founding Fathers who would Read
the Classics when Writing their Thoughts, Ideals:
the Declaration of Independence.
Why else would they Make an American
Sonnet, A BirthRight There in the 14th
Amendment? There Twice: an Eternal Worth
Creation, Origin, Self-Evident.
The Sonnet Americanus. I AM.

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When we Don’t Quack

You have heard the one about the Ugly

Duckling, right? That's Me. I am disabled,
a Little Lame Duck who grew up a Swan
A Female (I think?) She thinks? We do?
Disassociative hatchlings how I love you
as you Appeared somewhat Different from
those in Audubon's Elephant Earred books.
(Consider the Omen) (Consider the Dream)
(Consider our Old and our Ill and our
Young and the Swans who are called
Retarded. (Parentheses!) no More!
That is Sufficient! Disabled Voices Sing!
Deficient or less-Literarlistically-limited,
folks, now THAT's a Handicap, to suggest
Swans are Inferior when we don't Quack.

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REVERSE SUPPRESSION OF MY RIGHTS: Mother Father

Dejeenlo que se olvide de me querer para dejarme

Que me muera con mi pena y mi orgullo
Ser Mujer que escucha a Alicia, a Lila, a Lorna.
Latinas, what are we if not a Revolving Muse
who’ve inspired a War to Change the World
according to Humanitarian Feminism?
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah I’m Comfortable with my
Charms, my Intersectional Analysis, a Ring
or Not on my Finger, a passion for Books,
Books, Books….I love to Read and to Think
and to be Free. If I were Dulcinea to a Fool
like my Don Quixote I was too the Teller
of not One Thousand but Endless Infinitesimally
Intricate Verses….A Machine of Words? Small
Stature of Momentous Forces, a Filigree
as of Lace, built in Black Oil forged and with
Feathers…A Changling am I that Observes
My Mistaken Birth, Dr. Asperger, you Know
My Name: I’m Autism Unveiled. Rhythms
of Life are set to my Specifications: Flower
Powder I inhaled, a GoldenSeal Tea, Sí Mami
me lo tome como Usted me Dijo que lo hiciera.
Ahora espero con Ansias que regresaramos
A Platicar de Su Vida, Mamá y de Mis ancestros.
Por favor que se Callen los Silencios de Siempre.

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Sonnet Para Mi Padre

His frailty is his disguise. He is

A Good Man nothing more nothing less.
Had he not been my Father, I’d have known
him, father of the muses. They know the
silken mystery of his love. He walks
away innocently. No blood on his
hands, no broken hearts, no one abandoned.
He gave us more than Life itself which was
not his undertaking—She took that from him Fiercely—he is
Something common by necessity, noble in accessory.
He's never lost his calm. Speed, speed alone
is to be feared. Slow down for your sake. Hear
the songs I write to my love, your mother.
Beautiful and wise, she's kept us Alive.

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Un lamento Elle a le même nom que moi a La
Mente de Ayer

Un lamento
a La Mente de Ayer

Edit Piaf
No Je ne regrette RIEN Ella a le même nom que moi. I feel like
crying again but I won't.

I will write an Ingenious rhyme instead.

From Einstein, I'll take it and with Wharton,
Edith my nameSake, I'll start a new I

D E A, une ideé de Juan. c'est Moi,

"A Rhythm of the Unknown" for a Song
of black holeS Sans Matter Supplying a Zone

Saben qué? My idea has become

wholes like those of which Alfonsina spoke.

She felt it felt in the Head su Caracol

del Canto, sobriviveré y sobriviveré

Anyone who became American

Great, did it through the Changling ID WILL!
and Freedom of Disassociation
Una Iris de Cuatro Colores

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Calming Fire with Rhyme

It's a Poetic Contusion. The Pain

of my People speaking through me. The name
is Epithet that cuts through my Veins. So
listen here. It's not very Nice to throw us
from History. Sent out of Time and Place,
made invisible elbisivni edam.

It's Easy being an Intellectual.

The hard part is the Middle Core. Open
heart procedure, take a beating, then two
more. For the Volta, I give you my pyre:

Oh rhythmic beauty of prosodic time.

arc de triumph, raging flame of the mind.
a yellow tassel from 2005.
Voila! I've learned to calm fire with rhyme

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Peace Fights just as Hard as Hate: Maximum
Heat NT’s! Disabled? WTF!

I salute you. You are as Perfect as You

Can Be…Not like a Poem once Grown Up
That can never be Straightened, Editors
There’s no Correction to your Hate Rage

For the Pole of your Normalism seems

more a Pole for Extremism than Dance
And without that Glamour and Radiance
(anAtomically Speaking This is True)

I must Live and Living Endure NT's!

No Worse Distortion than your PreJudice
And Bias that you don't trouble to shade.
This is why my Blissful Freedom I Won

Blissful Freedom with no Sickos or Perves!

In my BaUhaus my Bohemia...Edie!
De todas Maneras Vino de Roja Tinta,
El Color de las COmunistas que se Yo!

No soy MarXista,,,hay OdioS que Ellos

Me Dejan Sufrir por ser su Iconografia.
Ya Estufas Liberales Falsos Machistas
y sin Suficiente para una Yegua Ya Basta!

Y por la ultima Vez, que se Callen

para Dormir bien un Futuro con
Conciencia Limpia. Porque yo Cobro!
Y en pagar esa Deuda, te Salvas.

This Sonnet is a Fictional Work. Any perceived, apparent, or

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implied relationship to entities or persons is coincidental.

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