I wrote this poem as a tribute to my creative ADHD son. I also thought that those of us who endure living with ADHD would resonate with such a poem.
A disorder of paradox—
one minute, you’re walkin
with a swagger,
feelin God’s favor,
the next, you wanna draw
a dagger through a skull
and put on a black shirt,
pants and socks.
Androgynous highs and lows—
testosterone freezes
and estrogen flows
like snow,
sun-bathin on top of Kilimanjaro,
meltin glaciers below.
Ecstasy like gravity
falls to sorrow,
and unbridled sorrow
slips to tomorrow.
Your superpowers lay dormant,
then you don your headgear
and fly onto the mat.
A struggle ensues,
you’re down by 2.
Diggin deep,
you tap into a reservoir
of hyperactivity
to get a takedown
and pin Atlas’s shoulders
to Antaeus’s doormat.
The sky comes crashin down,
the fate of the world
is off your shoulders.
My Son,
your hand raised
is a win for everyone;
Atlas’s condemnation
is over.
Dragon-slayer,
your identity,
your proof
that Beowulf
is no Germanic myth
but your face
carved out of a marble statue,
a middle-school monolith.
Courageous
like Maximus
is your chief virtue.
Elysian Fields,
your destiny,
your own radiant, golden garden
with flowers that bend toward you
and play a fragrant tune
as you caress the fields
you walk through.
ADHD is no sin,
but a gift that kicks-in
to save your skin,
a survival skill
that releases endorphins
and sharpens your instincts.
Old school to modern day,
Lynyrd Skynyrd to Green Day.
Sometimes you kiss me incessantly,
other times you push me away.
You’ve been first and you’ve been last.
Sweat is esteemed to the first
and the feeling of the last,
well, that’s hard to get passed.
Have faith;
practice humility.
Each moment is a test
of character and consistency
that feels like an eternity.
That’s the way God planned it.
If someone tells you differently,
smile and say
your attention span can’t stand it.
Life is an extreme sport
that can’t be beat
with paradoxes waitin for you
at the cross-street
of virginity and the shadows.
Every culture and continent
has the same challenges
that juxtapose—
passion and purity,
poetry and prose,
synagogues and mosques,
environmentalism and cynicism,
speed and location,
not to mention a foreign language
that’s lost in translation.
Emotional intelligence releases warmth
that empathizes and sympathizes
like a multicultural blanket
that epitomizes
compassion,
while logic’s cold, calculated eyes
look to castigate the guilty
that comes in all sizes.
Truth without charity,
an intellectual distraction,
betrays the nature of humanity.
Charity without truth
is a crime of passion
that pleads insanity.
But truth with charity
is a tribute
to understanding
the power of ADHD.