POEM: Same Old Hope

He said, “Wow, you’re the same old hopeful person.”
I said “Yes, and somewhat dyslexic.
I’m a Samo Hopien”

This short poem doubles as a bad .  Appropriately so, my is in tandem with the double vision of punning.  I did not fully realize my dyslexic tendencies, until my son was diagnosed with mild .  Looking back over my , I realized that I had the same tendencies.  I had substantial difficulty to read.  I found scholastic mathematics vexing, but I could calculate numbers nimbly in my head. I still can’t look at a phone number, walk five feet to a phone and reliably dial the number.  This insight into a perceptual askewness explains a lot.  I think that I literally see things differently than most others.  I think that this jumbling of perceptions extends beyond the mere intake of data into my thought processes.  I have successfully learned to cope with this mild disability.  However, along the way, I think that I have developed a great : in general, and punning specifically.  is most fundamentally combining a wide range of configurations of stuff and ideas.  My has little choice but to cope with this jumbled process of fumbling, sorting and making sense, finding (s).  This has developed and honed my punning abilities over decades of practice.  Also in tandem with my punning is a terminal hopefulness.  This may also spring more robustly from an involuntary exposure to an of possibilities catalyzed by mildly dyslexic tendencies. We are not stuck in or .  As revealed so simply and so elegantly, “Peace is possible.”  This , which energizes my for , is the capstone of my persona as .  Out of apparent rises a deeply hopeful and a semantic jujitsu rarely matched in the service of social . Take that you disability so miled!

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