Poems about disability

Video: Manifesto from Behind the Mask

Janine performing 'Manifesto from Behind the Mask', a poem about being autistic and try to fit into society, and about how society might change to make it easier for autistic people to fit in.

This performance was recorded at the launch of the DIRT poetry pamphlet, at the Betsey Trotwood in London, in June 2015.

Fence Sitter

They're cutting help to those in need - 
What case to vote against?
This is a tricky one indeed 
I'm staying on the fence

Scrap targets for child poverty?
My mind is wracked with doubt
Perhaps, no - maybe, probably -
I'm sitting this one out

I. D. S.

(The former Secretary of State for Work and Pensions, Iain Duncan Smith, is known as IDS. But what else might it stand for?)

If David Says
"I Demand Savings"
I'll Deliver Some!

I'd Delve through Sewage
Intimate Detailed Search
Identifies Deeper Savagery

I Dutifully Serve
Ignorance Division and Spite

Beach Body

You all must be Beach Body Ready!
Or you surely must wither in shame!
If your body is flawed or unsteady
Then you just have your own self to blame!

No, the beach has no space for relaxing!
It's a place for perfection parades!
You need slimming! And toning! And waxing!
We have products in buckets - and spades!

Pedestal Nor Pity

I am not "inspirational"
I need neither pedestal nor pity
Why put barriers in my path
Then call me "inspirational" for getting over them?
I am your equal not your mascot
I want rights not awards
I am not "inspirational"
I am disabled
By crap like this.

Manifesto From Behind the Mask

Make me a mask so that no-one can see
That the face that I'm wearing is not really me
Get me a glaze to go over my eyes
To look like I'm looking while melting inside

Fetch me some specs that can read between lines
Fit me antennae that pick up the signs
Lend me a lens that reads unwritten rules
Bless me with patience to help suffer fools

Once Upon a Tory Time

Despite our crusade to screw the low-paid
And the jobless and sick in our midst
They're parading their crimes in our nursery rhymes
And in fairy tales told to our kids

We just can not pander to this vile propaganda
So my job as benefits minister
Is to go through each rhyme, taking one at a time
And eliminate anything sinister

Freudian Slip

When he answered that councillor's question
  He let out a Freudian slip
When he argued for wages exemption
  It wasn't a gaffe or a blip
When his Lordship said disabled workers
  Should get by on two quid an hour
No, he wasn't just acting the jerk as
  Though he'd just come down in a shower

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