PAIN INTO PAPER (Added 1/11/13)
Pouring pain into paper
Cause from the drama of prison life
Writing is our Savior.
So we scribe what for years
We were too tough to say.
Praying these verses will somehow
Help us get through the day.
So as the page soaks up ink
The words heal our souls
Our hearts begin to soften
And no longer remain ice cold.
Through our writing, our pain
May save another man.
Its true, from here we can’t do much
But it’s a must we do what we can
So that maybe, just maybe
The outside world will finally see
That we can be productive citizens
If they would just set us free.
So painful piece after piece
Of our souls we reveal
Digging down to the darkest depths
So we can feel what we feel.
We are overflowing with remorse
And drowning in regret
Living daily with such scars
That we will never forget.
Still year in and year out
We forge ahead behind these walls
Somehow and someway finding ways to stand tall.
Even though everything we once lived for
Is now lost to us forever
We continue to push on
And against all odds hold it together.
Refusing to be broken
Although at times we may bend
Once robbers and murderers
We now lay claim to being men.
Where we were once young and dumb
We’re now older and semi-wise
With the pains of the past
Evident when you look in our eyes.
Man might have made money
But money misleads many a man
Causing chaos and corruption
Constantly from clan to clan
Where and when we will wizen up,
Your guess is as good as mine
Rabble-rousers are running rampant
Some of us here recognizing the sign.
So desperate daddy’s daily dedicate
Our lost lives to little lads and lasses
Hoping heartfelt honesty helps to heal
And encourage our seeds to get A’s in classes.
Knowing no matter what we do
That we can’t erase the past
Or give back those precious years
We took away from them so fast.
Behind bars both battered and blue
But boldly becoming braver
As we pour out our pain
Into the lines on this paper.
The Call of the Crack
Each of my cracks
cracks of my brokenness…
has a moment, an emotion
and a personality.
Each clamors to breach the light
To be seen, to be heard.
I feel the echo of time ringing
in my soul, my spirit…
A cacophony of sounds, of smells,
invade the space in which I live.
I struggle to balance in the breach
to hold fast to who I am…
I am a cracked, broken and
beautiful vessel, a man broken and
whole at the same time, glimpses
of moments, photographs in the mind
that create the man, the Warrior, the little
boy, and the sage of this soul.
Forgiveness answers the call of the crack,
and one becomes whole.
What would I be if I would be
the man that lives inside of me?
How could I see if I was blind?
When would I know when I’d arrived?
Where would I flee to escape from time
to break the chains that bond my mind?
No feet, no knees, no legs to walk
No tongue, no mouth, no voice to talk.
With arms so short and hands so small
How could I reach to climb the wall?
My name is spoke, I hear it clear
Though I have no drums inside my ears.
My heart still beats though it is stone.
My blood still flows though it is cold.
I breathe in deep, there is no air.
I exhale quick, release my fear.
It floats away up to the clouds.
I smell the rain, it showers down.
My skin feels pain, but there is none.
I close my eyes, I see the sun
and lavender skies I’ll leave behind,
The cool sea breeze, the ocean’s tide.
Divine intervention helps me survive.
I only know how, I don’t know why.
What could I be if I would see
The gifts of sights epiphany?
I open my eyes and see the signs
To weaken the chains and break their bind.
I choose to live, I live to shine.
I’ve freed my mind, I’ve now arrived.