Two of the guys in the group write poetry. I want people to understand there is a literary community here. Even behind these fences, guys think, they dream, they write, they live.
From Bades: “Vida”, “Dealing with Life’s Reality”, “Pray” and “When Goodbye becomes a second chance”.
From Ty: “Away A While”, “Rescued”, “Laughing Letters”, and “Reading Escapades”.
They’re good poets. They’re excellent men. Enjoy.
Vida
A losing battle in which we search for answers
But only end up with questions
Leaving a void
What is honor?
What is justice?
Do they exist or are they just abstract thoughts?
Is life anything without self-reflection?
So many uncertainties leave us with canyons
Within one another searching for knowledge
To fill the void
What is love?
What is pain?
Do they exist or are they one in the same?
Is life anything without self-reflection?
See the days and feel your soul
As it grows weary of the sagging grief.
Such a bittersweet
Being able to see life but living it behind a metal veil.
This world is an oxymoron being fulfilled
Blessed with the gift of life only to in it attach
A cordial membership to be a recipient of a living hel
With no choice but to roll the dice
Awaiting the hazards of the settled die
LIFE
Dealing with Life’s Reality
I find myself in a pensive state.
I find myself in a pensive state.
A new formed recluse, not by choice
rather by force.
Out of sight so out of mind
Feeling deeply forlorn.
“Home is where the heart is . . .”
then too many hours I’ve spent away from my heart.
The view to my emotions is like . . .
. . .dawn kissing the sky only to be followed by that
silent veil of grey. . .
. . .that betokens rain already falling
Making its way towards my hope.
Undaunted, chest out, head high and pride filled
Try to face life only fooling myself by my
Masquerade.
Thoughts flow through the mind, Beckoning bereaved
Times of a place that may no longer exist.
The stars fade away at the request of granting
Me a wish!
These hollow thoughts hurt so the mind is
own worst enemy.
At war within my pensive state,
dealing with life’s reality.
Pray
A childhood deprived.
A beaten mother’s cries.
An aunt, A sister’s innocence forcefully taken
A grandmother’s choice to finally awaken.
Grandfathers’ and fathers’ without
“Hello’s” or “goodbye’s” depart.
Supposed friends’ backstab and betray.
Children to this cruel world arrive,
With only the instinct to want to survive.
An unpaved, unmarked, dark and hollow road. . .
Where right or wrong is the hardship of choice.
A tongue of wars
With heinous crimes grasping our skies
And taking utter control.
A son mistreated.
A daughter pushed away
A priest’s sin of child molestation.
Lucifer is the poacher and our souls his favorite. . .
When Goodbye becomes a second chance. . .
UNDER A WANTON MOON
A SHAKESPEAREAN SLOW LOVE DANCE
ENDS ENTIRELY TOO SOON
BROKEN PROMISES ENDURED
LIKE THE CROW WHOM SUFFERED EVERMORE
FALSE HOPE FINDS ITS COASTAL SHORE
BUT A LOVE ONCE CONFESSED IS FELT NEVERMORE
DAYS UPON YEARS WITHOUT VISION
THE SIGHT; FOUND IN HER EYES; OF A MORNING STAR
HEART AMISS, DAYDREAMS OWN PRISON
THE WONDER OF WHY HER TEMPLE LIES AFAR
NOW YOUR PICTURES ARE SILENT
WORDS ONCE MOANED, HAVE DIED A BIT
IS THIS: NOW. . .IT?
“YES.” THIS IS IT!
KEEP THE PITY, AND DO SAVE YOUR EVERY TEAR
PITYLESS, FOR I, TOO SUFFERED YEAR AFTER YEAR
STEADILY ON HOT COALS I ADVANCE
WHEN “GOODBYE” BECAME MY SECOND CHANCE.
Away A While
While I am locked away
My brain is free
To function okay,
Even extraordinarily.
Free to naturally
Live, love, and grow,
A free mind but with
No breezes over my brow,
No highway airstreams
Blowing over my face.
While cruising off
To another place.
Locked away,
Yet still free.
Not locked
Into negativity.
Locked away,
Physically restrained
But blissfully blessed with
An unrestrained brain.
Locked away, but
My mind and spirit wheels
Along a winding path
That leads to ideas.
Rescued
Was I about to hit
A brick wall,
But was saved
By this prison fall?
Is rescue the reality
Of this prison time,
A chance to see ways
My life of crime
Was just me speeding,
Never stopping to think,
Just me bleeding
Me becoming extinct?
Was I plucked
From inevitable suicide?
About to self-destruct,
Would I have died?
Was my life a blunder
Into bad situations?
Was I snatched under
Given resuscitation,
Brought to prison,
To think and analyze
The way I was intent
On my own demise?
Is prison a rescue
From self destructivity?
Is it true that for now
Prison is best for me?
Laughing Letters
Your family and friends
Will all feel better
If you write then a laughing letter.
Develop and share
This wonderful, fun craft
When you care,
To make loved ones laugh.
Laughing letters are often silly,
Like saying you’re on vacation
Though you are really
Doing incarceration,
Your family will think its neat
When you write and let them know
You always refuse to eat
The prison’s escargot.
Never, never, eat the escargot.
They will laugh hard
When they visit and meet
The dayroom guard
With the badly shaped feet.
A good laughing Letter
Never drags, never mopes
But makes everyone batter
With smart prison jokes.
Try writing these
With a light attitude
They always please
And are always considered cool.
Laughing letters are presents,
Little gifts, light-hearted fun,
Fun for you to craft
Fun for your loved ones,
Sending a laughing letter
Allows you to say
You handle prison better because you laugh every day.
Reading Escapades
I go on reading escapades
By opening any paperbacks,
Hardbacks, or other pages
Of fiction and facts.
I select books that stir
My heart and intellect,
Then I study and comprehend
That book’s black and white text.
Text might be engaging trips
Into geography, mystery,
Even far east philosophy.
Reading lets me glide globally.
During the dark or daylight.
The books are wings for flights.
I break out of prison
By reading day and night.
I break out mentally,
While still inside the cell.
I go on daring adventures
That start off of bookshelves.
I get on magic carpets.
I breeze over bright New York City,
Briskly over Ms. Statute of Liberty,
Monuments of Washington, D.C.
Over desert sands,
Over Jericho Walls,
As the sun fades, I’m over sprays
Of cool Niagara Falls.
I feel like I’m out.
I feel like I’m freed,
When I go to the library
And get good books to read.
“PRAY.”
Men, Women and Children
The victims of being
Slain
A voice.
A man.
A cross.
Down pours of cleansing rain,
Forgiveness,
Righteousness,
Truth,
The only savior to this horrible pain.
“PRAY.”
When Goodbye becomes a second chance. . .
UNDER A WANTON MOON
A SHAKESPEAREAN SLOW LOVE DANCE
ENDS ENTIRELY TOO SOON
BROKEN PROMISES ENDURED
LIKE THE CROW WHOM SUFFERED EVERMORE
FALSE HOPE FINDS ITS COASTAL SHORE
BUT A LOVE ONCE CONFESSED IS FELT NEVERMORE
DAYS UPON YEARS WITHOUT VISION
THE SIGHT; FOUND IN HER EYES; OF A MORNING STAR
HEART AMISS, DAYDREAMS OWN PRISON
THE WONDER OF WHY HER TEMPLE LIES AFAR
NOW YOUR PICTURES ARE SILENT
WORDS ONCE MOANED, HAVE DIED A BIT
IS THIS: NOW. . .IT?
“YES.” THIS IS IT!
KEEP THE PITY, AND DO SAVE YOUR EVERY TEAR
PITYLESS, FOR I, TOO SUFFERED YEAR AFTER YEAR
STEADILY ON HOT COALS I ADVANCE
WHEN “GOODBYE” BECAME MY SECOND CHANCE.
Away A While
While I am locked away
My brain is free
To function okay,
Even extraordinarily.
Free to naturally
Live, love, and grow,
A free mind but with
No breezes over my brow,
No highway airstreams
Blowing over my face.
While cruising off
To another place.
Locked away,
Yet still free.
Not locked
Into negativity.
Locked away,
Physically restrained
But blissfully blessed with
An unrestrained brain.
Locked away, but
My mind and spirit wheels
Along a winding path
That leads to ideas.
Rescued
Was I about to hit
A brick wall,
But was saved
By this prison fall?
Is rescue the reality
Of this prison time,
A chance to see ways
My life of crime
Was just me speeding,
Never stopping to think,
Just me bleeding
Me becoming extinct?
Was I plucked
From inevitable suicide?
About to self-destruct,
Would I have died?
Was my life a blunder
Into bad situations?
Was I snatched under
Given resuscitation,
Brought to prison,
To think and analyze
The way I was intent
On my own demise?
Is prison a rescue
From self destructivity?
Is it true that for now
Prison is best for me?
Laughing Letters
Your family and friends
Will all feel better
If you write then a laughing letter.
Develop and share
This wonderful, fun craft
When you care,
To make loved ones laugh.
Laughing letters are often silly,
Like saying you’re on vacation
Though you are really
Doing incarceration,
Your family will think its neat
When you write and let them know
You always refuse to eat
The prison’s escargot.
Never, never, eat the escargot.
They will laugh hard
When they visit and meet
The dayroom guard
With the badly shaped feet.
A good laughing Letter
Never drags, never mopes
But makes everyone batter
With smart prison jokes.
Try writing these
With a light attitude
They always please
And are always considered cool.
Laughing letters are presents,
Little gifts, light-hearted fun,
Fun for you to craft
Fun for your loved ones,
Sending a laughing letter
Allows you to say
You handle prison better because you laugh every day.
Reading Escapades
I go on reading escapades
By opening any paperbacks,
Hardbacks, or other pages
Of fiction and facts.
I select books that stir
My heart and intellect,
Then I study and comprehend
That book’s black and white text.
Text might be engaging trips
Into geography, mystery,
Even far east philosophy.
Reading lets me glide globally.
During the dark or daylight.
The books are wings for flights.
I break out of prison
By reading day and night.
I break out mentally,
While still inside the cell.
I go on daring adventures
That start off of bookshelves.
I get on magic carpets.
I breeze over bright New York City,
Briskly over Ms. Statute of Liberty,
Monuments of Washington, D.C.
Over desert sands,
Over Jericho Walls,
As the sun fades, I’m over sprays
Of cool Niagara Falls.
I feel like I’m out.
I feel like I’m freed,
When I go to the library
And get good books to read.
"Rescued"- There is no way for me to describe how much I relate to, and appreciate the feelings described in this poem. Allow my gratitude to be known to both the author of this poem and Larry, the author of this blog, to whom I've offered thanks to recently. Without knowing that I am not alone in the feelings that I have about what has happened, and how to cope, I would never survive this ordeal. I must thank again both authors, for if not for them I would go in to this completely blind. To the lesson, to the changes I need to make, to the hope in fact that it's not too late to make these changes and become the person I should have been all along. Thank you for making me understand that this is an opportunity, a chance, to find who I was supposed to be and have the faith and ability to become and retain that person. Again, I have not the words to explain to you how much your words have helped me to understand what I need to do in this situation. Perhaps when I am free again, I will have those words. God be with you both. -m
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