Attention Autistic Writers/Poets! Call for Submissions (Journeys With Autism)

Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg, author of the Journeys With Autism blog, is welcoming submissions for an upcoming anthology of poetry and prose by people on the autism spectrum aged 35 and over. She says below:

I welcome all pieces of writing about your feelings about being autistic, your experiences, your sense of yourself, your view of the world, your work history, your relationship with your family, or any other area of interest to you. You can write about your life pre- or post-diagnosis, you can share your experiences as a child or as an adult, and you can take a personal and/or a political point of view. The possibilities are as varied as your feelings, perceptions, and life experiences.

I welcome submissions from those who are self-diagnosed as well as from those with an “official” diagnosis.

The deadline for submissions is March 31, 2011. Pieces must be emailed to rachel AT journeyswithautism DOT com. For further information and submission guidelines, please visit her call for submissions page.

 

-Nicole

Feature on Awe In Autism’s Website

Greetings, RWP Readers!

Due to illness, I have been offline for a while — and while I was away, I was featured on Awe In Autism’s website!

Awe In Autism seeks to “provide inspiration and encouragement to those impacted by autism…through original works of art, music, literature, poetry, photography and video, as well as many other resources”. They feature artists of all kinds on the spectrum. I was prompted to submit my work after winning the ANCA award. My poem, “You Don’t See It”, is featured on the site:

http://www.aweinautism.org/index.php/gallery/poetry/169-poet-nicole-nicholson

-Nicole
Stumble It!
Stumble It!

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NaPoWriMo Poem #28: Letter to My Father

Dear Dad: have you ever seen the
burning blade, the straight edge of a knife’s
tongue? From this, we are branded with bruises. This silence,
this tradition of disguise, is a generational curse,
a baton passed from Grandma to you to
me – and I am still running.
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NaPoWriMo Poem #26: Box

There is a box. It is
wooden, a mistreated servant made out of
rot and blood stains. It holds
some of my years, the ones where
the mirror looked like broken teeth and empty
bedrooms. Sycamore legs that looked like
fear, shaking and stripped of bark to show
the white underneath. Prom nights, spent at home,
full of wishes that I could emerge, full-winged, instead of
an earthbound thing, soft and hairy, many-legged, with a upturned belly
like a dog’s fear gone white and asking for teeth. And a
tattered gospel, its chapter and verse preached to me
in slaps and insults.
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Protected: NaPoWriMo Poem #13: Six Things About the Asperger Woman

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NaPoWriMo Poem #7: How to Paint the Mona Lisa (A Pantoum)

Mona Lisa

Mona Lisa

It takes twelve years to paint her smile.
Feel your own lips, read the Braille in their contours.
Pull ribbons of secrets from under your tongue.
Whisper them onto the canvas.
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Protected: NaPoWriMo Poem #3: An Open Letter to Asperger Syndrome

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Protected: NaPoWriMo Poem #2: Tribe

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Synesthesia

This was written for Read Write Word #15 (and NaPoWriMo #27 – I am soooo behind!). These were words that I donated to RWP a while back. This was also inspired by Sarah’s poem written for the same prompt.

A little background information is in order: synesthesia is “a neurologically based phenomenon in which stimulation of one sensory or cognitive pathway leads to automatic, involuntary experiences in a second sensory or cognitive pathway”, i.e. hearing colors (the definition was quoted from Wikipedia. I am heard that it can occur by itself (although I’m not entirely sure), but I am aware that individuals with Asperger’s Syndrome can experience synesthesia. I’m inclined to think that stuff lying within the Autism Spectrum is maybe less of a disorder and perhaps evident of neurodiversity within the human race (although I’m up for debate and discussion on the subject).

For more info on synesthesia, visit: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Synesthesia.

And now, on to the poem. Enjoy.

-Nicole

———————————————–
You once told me
that you heard

colors, that songs were leaking
tones of liquid pigment into
your ears. Like B flat – for you,
it was
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