Prisoner-Express-Poetry-Anthology-15 Poetry

Prisoner Express Poetry Anthology 15

Art by Anwar Tapia

Winter 2016 AlternativesLibrary

A Special Thanks To The Following Contributors:

Poets Jeff Keeran Lou Tompkins

Jason Adkins David Joseph Kiluk Craig J. Tooney

Jacob Blue Baladez Michael Lanning Leonard C. Williams

Justin Begandy T. Williams

Blair A. Blanchette Stephen D. Laud Michael Winkler

Bernadette Bradham Bradley A. McMinn

Heather Coffey Michael Chris Morales Artists

David Corbin Terrylee Nelson Jimmy Coleman

Warren Daniels William Nettles Robert Dennino

Tony DuPree C’Leo Michael Pavia Kelly Frederickson

Santiago Duran Daniel Peterson Jeremy Hammill

William T. Floyd Geneva Jewell Phillips Dominic Marak

Chad Frank Brandon Pierce Anwar Tapia

Daniel Grunvold Robert Richter Marco Williams

Jonathan Holeman Benjamin Rivera

Steven Inman Brandon Rushig

Damion Jackson Kent D. Simon

Huett Johnson Lawrence Stewart II

Debbi Jones Anthony Tinsman

If Love… For which we all share the I know I left the path you chose by Benjamin Rivera blame and started one of my own, Condemning and forgiving For every question I assumed I If love was a crime To feed the frail and dying flame had the answer so I let my I would take life without parole curiosity roam. Locked inside my cell Is there truth enough in this So here I am broken, bruised, or permanently in the hole. world shattered and all alone, If love is blind To build a steadfast foundation Asking you to please forgive me then I would rather not see That withstands the weight of and welcome me back home. as long as I know trust I hope you hear my prayers that you would be there to guide That sees not race, appearance tonight and open up your arms, me. or station And give me everlasting love If love hurts And that time will not erode, like the day that I was born. then let me feel the pain decay, or rust I know right now you’re smiling Let my heart be tortured down proud of what you see, until I went insane. Beauty and Truth, ever That’s why I’m asking everyone If love was a star intertwined to say a prayer for me. then I would shine super bright Inextricably linked, as body and so that you would see me mind Spring Free every single night. Where beauty is lacking, truth Justin Begandy If love was a puzzle also is missed then I would solve it every Yet as long as one lives, so Prison cell—cold concrete and possible way both will persist steel, by adding new pieces Makes time slow; slower than every single day. the free If love expresses feelings Say a Prayer Who watch time fly by—Busy then it would be compassion by William Nettles Bee’s. but you must put forth an effort Sleep late, wake early— and show it with your actions. Say a prayer for me tonight I it’s count-time. hope that God hears your Breakfast for some, plea, sleep for others. And sends down his gift of Others await the call for work, mercy and shines his light Some will go to the yard, call- on me. outs Ask God to save me from For those with appointments this evil that is the devil, today; And keep me from the depth Everyone’s appointment of hell where it’s hot on is time— every level. Monotonous and I know God will hear my call repeating. but I’m afraid to get on my Calendar pages turn; repeat knees, Another day, a month, a year. Art by Kelly Frederickson And bow my head to the Autumn has come ever slower; mighty Lord and beg him please Soon the fall will end,

please please. come winter, Linked It’s been so long since I talked And time moves a little T. Williams to God I doubt I remember what faster.

to say, I count down the time anxiously Is there sufficient beauty in this With tears in my eyes I fold my Until I reach the final page; world hands and to God I begin to My calendar’s about to end. To ease the pain of living pray.

The end will come on a Feel My Pain I see his eyes dart from spring morn’ by Benjamin Rivera the books on my floor As my cell fades from to the stack on my desk my mind—FREE! Feel my pain limited My pain of cuffs and chains ‘Damn!’, I think, chains around my waist I’ve drawn his attention Love cuffs around my wrist I’m over my limit and by Warren Daniels poor blood circulation he knows it Hips and fists Love is something we all try to can’t feel my fingertips Think fast! find got no grip Not knowing others have left it on this trip “Oh, I was just donating behind for trying to get a grip those books on the floor Some will give up others will loose lips sink ships to the library.” keep trying My ship sinks quick I causally say with a wave. Love is not what you ride in no bartender but, The guard nods Neither how much you can received a tip “Just make you don’t spend No bills, just dimes go over the limit” But it is something we all need and for the crime he seriously advises as he every now and then I clock the watch walks away Love starts out when you meet at 8 I need my books a friend My Time I want to learn Thank you Prison Express for I want to grow being mine! Farewell Summer My life is so by Chad Frank limited Father’s Cry My time is so by Jason Adkins Geese land limited in the prison’s A father’s cry rec. yard; fall breeze whispers, bounded, defined, restricted To help his children “Farewell summer, farewell Caught like seeds summer”— The light of day is so In whirlwinds twisting too soon! limited Violent and uplifting Not caring nor knowing books are boundless, Where the winds are blowing Limited inestimable, considerable, by Daniel Peterson vast, unlimited Feeling forsaken My children were taken I count my stamps, The nature of prison is To a foreign land I count my books, I check the summed up in one Raised by another hand rules, word Yet fates left unwritten I can’t go over the limit! limited Meaning they are given In the light of doom the guard scans my room The nature of prison is Still- potential to Bloom. numbering, counting summed up in one “does he have too much? word I have to make sure” unlimited limited I smile to myself I know what he’s thinking as I nod at the books

4 on the floor, as the guard walks away.

Those are the ones I’ve already read I give a soft chuckle unlimited.

Time by Geneva Jewell Phillips

I don’t have enough left Yet I find there’s too much on my hands

I consider reconsider sell my soul to the highest bidder if it would reconfigure my future Art by Dominic Marak my present presence is no present Things have gotten really Shoo Fly, Shoo! of time strange. Benjamin Rivera I don’t feel the way I use to, but a curse Everything is starting to change. Shoo fly, shoo! unable to worsen I don’t sleep good these days, Before I swat you! sealed ad unguilded My memories are almost gone. A sway of my hand this cage Darkness brings me peace of was part of my plan time has wrought mind, then I got you. by body – its own And I’m starting to enjoy being slow prison – alone. Shoo fly, shoo! sentenced Silence is now a welcome I actually missed. to prison sound, While buzzing around Irony And laughter has almost died. your vibrating sound Behind No tears ran down my face, is getting me pissed. Bars The last time I cried. My soft heart has hardened, Shoo fly, shoo! From years in this desolate Just go away. place. Spread your wings Maybe if I lose my mind, go do your thing I’m losing it! These terrible memories will be and live another day. by David Corbin erased. And my past will be forgotten, Shoo fly, shoo! My mom always told me, The future will stay the same. I’m trying to stay calm. That someday in due time, It won’t matter as much to me, You’re bothering me All the things I was doing, If I end up going insane… and with lightning speed would make me lose my mind. you’re captured inside of my Well, I think that time has come, palm,

The surging waters of our Poetry is the needle in a stack Shoo fly, shoo! symbolic seines’s of hay straw. I shall set you free. Overflow their domesticated Dreams become reality and Cause I know how it feels streams reality seems surreal. to be a fly in a cell Escaping, in an ecstatic rush, Don’t just say something – let and “time” will shoo fly me free. their embankments your heart spill. And, momentarily, flow free; And just the spelling of a word expresses how you feel. Lonely River Free from the prisons of the Death becomes alive and by Blair A. Blanchette past – broken hearts heal. Daring to - once more – froth Poetry is the colorful art of In my heart a river flows and foam blissfully expression. Whose waters have been The release of charity and poisoned In my heart there flows a river aggression. By Bitter toxins of broken Explain an opinion or make a promises suggestion. Haikus Poetry is a poetic like engulfed And dismantled dreams; by Michael Lanning in confession. Each breathless lie, prevaricated Clock sits on my shelf With every barren kiss I remove the batteries (screams!),- Did I just kill time? My America Hammering against its vibrant, ------by Debbi Jones green banks, A black man chasing me Swelling the thick, slimey- Banana peel on the ground An accidental fire burns down a sludge gave my shadow the slip barn, Coating its feral shore; The neighbors come together Staining tomorrow’s smile… bringing A smile with powerful Poetry food, lumber, nails and strong undercurrent’s by Steven Inman backs. Straining to survive – In two days in new barn is up Poetry is expression of self. and ready to house the horses Resilient, yet restrained. The definition of you. and cows. Every miles span contains a Your thoughts and feelings. The tractor is running from dam Your point of view. dawn to Resurrected from the remains A reflection of opinion. Your dusk plowing the burning field Of another snuffed-out flame. lies become true. laying fertilizer, making rich soil Change becomes a crisis – You can be tickled pink, mad to grow vegetables and feed Trust, a danger – red, or down and blue. families. Therefore, I only share my Poetry is an escape to free your water with strangers; emotion. $5 fills a #20 grocery bag Drifters camping out for the A way to organize your mind of saddle oxfords and bobby socks night; commotion. starched and ironed clothing Visitors passing through taking To describe feelings, use words playing hide and seek solitary sips; deeper than the ocean. black and white TV Vagabonds, as coy and alone But, never use words that a brown and blue panel station as I; exploit erosion. wagon Forgotten in the twilight Poetry is real and pure. Poetry built to last 14 years Of yesterday’s moon. is raw. barbeque grills in the park Yet, in that juncture womb, No photographs. Write about concerts where joints are Where our two mouths merge, what you saw. passed

6 around to one and all. She sobs, lets her tear ducts The fucked thing is – you can’t flow tell Tattoos and earrings, Rain plummets the earth below blue and purple hair, Now he will never grow old Love is… Never have a hand to hold by Kent D. Simon wearing drops and carrying Never glance that wondrous guns Love is remembering selling drugs and popping pills Love is patient fake passports and ID. high Love is blind Innocent people In his newborn son’s eye Love is compromising at the wrong place and time The same he once possessed Love is forgiving shot down In his mother’s warm caress Love is happiness kids with knives and guns She frowns, exhales, glares Love is unconditional pregnant at 12 and 13. Hail blasts the window where Love is a stage In the street life early, leaving His murderer sits and stares Love is trust a past home of pain and abuse Love is blissful countries at war, Alive? Love is having no idea a world of unease and by Damion Jackson Love is not dying alone uncertainty Love is honesty Nothing built to last, The nauseating buzz of a Love is everything everything temporary. florescent bulb Love is caring Drilling a hole in my frontal lobe Love is special Each generation there is Love is not to be played with less stability, people seeking Killing me softly with songs of Love is 23 criminals knowing happiness in their own way. silence what love is to them Love and people’s hearts and Boxed in a cell filled with vibes acts of violence of kindness stay the same, Love’s Summer Breeze they’re just harder to see behind My friendship bracelet attracts by Michael Winkler the masks created and lost no friends souls. Only sounds of slithers and dark Just the other day dead ends I walked quietly Through the fields Regarding Nature’s Fury My mind fills up with joyous As a summer breeze by David Joseph Kiluk thoughts Spoke gently Only to be rudely interrupted by Of love “This one was not meant to the sound of cops & I was caught up perish so young…” In the wondrous unity Nature storms her vengeful To hold my son is all I ask Contained within wrath Instead of this torture behind Beautiful diversity Thunder over the corpse’s path the glass As each step I took She swings her arms, the winds Reminded me to be grateful run Brick by brick and day by day Of the love Dark cloud race and cover the I watch my old self fade away Spoken gently sun By the summer breeze She blinks her mourning eyes I only hold on by a thread That floated beside me Electricity lights the skies Am I still alive or am I dead? Around me She had plans for her beloved & through me son Because if I’m living then I know As I walked quietly He was to learn, evolve, have hell Through the fields fun Just the other day.

Welcome to the Fort Haikus And hold her up close to my by Huett Johnson by Lou Tompkins heart… Wrapping my arms gently Let me tell you about a place I Reading Braille around her, know To insure that we don’t drift That’s filled with broken dreams Your fingertips are apart… and lost hope, like my eyes – they read letters, Beautiful mercy with sweet A place if visited within your words, sentences, worlds. surrender, dreams; A gift from the lord up above… Would turn nightmarish by Always Today A beautiful angel to call my thoughts provoke, own, What if eternal For me to hold close and to A place that was created many life is just like today but love… years ago it lasts forever? How I wish I could send her a When a father was taken from dozen roses, the only son he knew, Just so that they could all see… Now he’s stuck in memories as How Much She Means To How beautiful she is inside and time goes on, Me… out, Trapped in a world where by William T. Floyd And how beautiful she is to thoughts never move, me… How I wish I could send her a A place you need to see in dozen roses, order to believe, Just so that they could all see… Goodbye and Hello Filled with desperate cries and How beautiful she is both inside by T. Williams dreamy screams, and out, A city where angles turned dark And how beautiful she is to I said goodbye to life several and cold, me… years ago. In another handful, I Now demons plundering for the I wish I could give her beautiful will say goodbye to purgatory hope of lost souls, diamonds, and go out in search of

Sapphires, emeralds and whatever is left of that life, and A place where children are pearls… fill in the blanks with who- stripped from their youth, To show her the clarity of knows-what. Left alone with no direction and undying love I knew when I said goodbye that confused, From a heart as big as this some pieces of that life would As time ticks forward, away world… be set aside to be picked up from its past, Ill give her clouds with silver again in the not-too-near future, They run backwards towards linings, some pieces would be time they never had, A world made of platinum and reshaped so as to never again This fortress was built to gold… fit into my life’s puzzle, and captivate souls, A painted sky with comets and other would essentially vanish. Whose burden on society was rainbows, What I could not know, way overbearing, With millions of stars to however, was the level of gut- Within it are worlds residing in a behold… wrenching pain that would timeless space, White sandy beaches down by accompany this parting. Which humanity has chose to the ocean, This pain would grow into a ignore. Where we could walk and hold sentient and sadistic being, hands… ever-present and always ready We could sit beneath a beautiful to give a small jab or, as moon, permitted, to fan glowing coals Just so that she’d understand… behind heavy eyes; to How I wish to tenderly kiss her, eviscerate, stealing strength 8 from both body and will, breath It Cotton tops with blazing blue from the lungs, and hope from by Craig J. Tooney eyes filled with honest down faith. home love, sweet as grannies After nearly 40 years of life, I have no right to be happy, home made pies. already having endured some of It only gives me pain. I see Granddaddy’s gray the greatest losses imaginable, I cannot see the sunlight, whiskers, and hear his words to I was “reasonably confident” Its always pouring rain. the wise. “We all must live, love, that I knew a thing or two about I try to keep my sanity, forgive and die.” this life. I could not have been It’s a life for the insane. Ravens fly under the Owl’s more wrong. I even prayed to god, dangerous vine, true to legend Since that time, things I had Its shown me there’s no such short was cut the time. thought once unshakable have thing. My princess daughter Jennifer not only been shaken, but have I try to think of family Marie DuPree. She is now free crumbled to dust. I have It keeps their words from me. on a breeze, sweetly she moves witnessed a part of humanity of I dream of days of freedom, as on the fragrance of the which I would have preferred to it evergreen trees. remain ignorant (and, as I am a It mocks me in my dreams. Our beloved ones welcome her part of humanity, this includes I’m convicted by my nature, to our lords paradise, so to glory me). The most surprising thing It feeds upon my blood. is her soul from this old gray is that this rewrite of my portion I was sentenced by the system, male. of life’s script took only a few It’s the system where I live. short years. It does not escape I’ve done my first sentence, The Unseen Hand my notice that these It’s taken that and more. by Leonard C. Williams “reformative” years have I keep my secrets hidden, coincided with my incarceration. It will never let me free… I once read a poem about a Sometimes I’m not sure Panther cat held in captivity, like whether to be grateful for this Gray Sublime me. This regal and majestic big fuller understanding of our by Tony DuPree cat paced in cramped circles, world, or upset at having like me. Cramped spaces and decades of experience and My days made Confederate pacing over and over being held understanding polluted by this gray, there are enemies to in microcosm of negativity blame, but no use to say. By hunters of men operating under a network web I pray and pray just to hear from I see nothing but endless bars of misinformation and deceit. family such as cousin Kay.Our and locks One thing I believe I have story is written like a wartime And good people held in many learned in all of this is that I novel ‘The Mocking jay’. of these blocks never truly know anything until I There I see it in the clouds a My movement in my cell or realize I know nothing. At least, trace our kindred’s loyal ways. cage is like a ritual dance my I am “reasonably confident” of Swept through the wind on soft strides and glides this. southern pines is their voices Are filled with a black prisoner So for now, I wait. Tomorrow and mine. pride will bring what it will. I look Searching and pacing back in Upon deeper observation one forward to my next goodbye, time, for a place of rest that is would come to realize knowing it will not be my last, sublime. On display is a mighty will that and stubbornly hoping it will yet Feeling and finding a sign of joy stands paralyzed lead to another hello. and laughter in warm sunshine. While I’m not free to roam the Ways with both rhythm and ghetto’s, barrio’s, or my city rhyme, spinning and spinning streets me back through the echoes of Yet I vow my thoughts, my ancient wealth of mind. opinions, hopes, and dreams C.D.C. will not defeat

They roam the concrete jungles His still small voice was Scorned, adorned in rags but and beyond soothing: and he even called thankful for clothes though worn Its my faith that is my engine me “son”, and torn and drives me on As I tried hard to see his face, We’ve winked blind eyes to the I genuinely once believed I was over in cell A-21. fact that he lives in the cold and free to dissent religiously and lonely streets politically I stood there and I listened. He We’ve called him a freak but My mistake back then was just said he had a plan, really we’ve only looked skin not thinking realistically A way to escape from prison deep Now I’m locked away by a smug that will work for any man. We’ve judged him for the bottle class of people, C.D.C. He said, “ I know the only way he holds yet its manifest his superficially through the only door there is.” only friend California department of That’s when I told him my He hits the bottle in hopes of corrections is not just a set of name; but he never told me his. drownin’ the sorrow institutions, it’s also a hell bent He said, “The door is called Prayin’ that tomorrow he’ll state of mind. Lock them up, Jesus.” Then I sat down on the experience peace again lock them up, and lock as many floor, Shunned in his defeat by the of them up as we can, that’s And asked if he would tell me world’s elite their plan more about this Jesus door. No hand has ever reached But not aware are they? Of a All night we read the bible until except to mistreat the Jesus we much more powerful hand he said, “Did you want to pray? cast to the streets Any joy or suffering collected Son you can be completely free from this wrongful captivity or before the light of day.” Jesus Weeps imprisonment they may not understand He led me to this Jesus door There’s an imprint of Jesus Was not just mere chance and now I understand. somewhere in our world But what I believe is an evident I began by reading scripture, confined in a pen plan and soon was “born again”. The guilty one that we’ve all For a spiritual dance For the first time in my whole condemned And while I’ve been life, I did not feel alone. We’ve forgotten him now he’s disregarded, tossed about like I felt so free and happy that it lonely, so afraid and in need of garbage, and banned felt like going home. a friend My divine shine and life’s true I wanted to tell someone, so He faithfully prays everyday and work is guided all along, by an when the first guard came, into the night un-seen hand. I told him what had happened Please dear lord, let somebody The Door in Cell A-21 but did not know the old man’s write by Michael Chris Morales name. Late night regrets perpetuate The guard said, “Are you crazy? and keep the prisoner awake It was kind of cold, and lonely, Look, now all the lights are on, So many nightmares, scares of in my prison cell that night. For three days and nights abuse, abandonment and I had a funny feeling, like there’s been nobody, in cell A- heartbreak something wasn’t right. 21. We’ve labeled him a menace, I tried looking down the hall, to declared him a thug see what I could see: But if we looked through the It was only the shadow of a face Jesus Still Weeps eyes that see looking back at me. by Jeff Keeran Then we’d see that it has been He reminded me of someone, Jesus we’ve been hiding our but just who, I couldn’t tell. We’ve all bowed our head in an face from I heard him quoting scripture: attempt to ignore the poor he knew the bible well. strugglin’ in the storm Jesus Weeps That we’ve titled life

We may not have seen the The prisoner we threw away Symphony in Prozac orphan abandoned by all the who’s still prayin’ we’d manifest by Heather Coffey love he never knew in his life today The one who’s been prayin’ The orphan still longin’ for a Petals decorated with the “Dear Lord” hopin’ to find love in home lavender shade, me and you And the widow we left to fend A pressed flower alone on a He’s the boy that’s never known on her own stage. the arms of embrace Still praying we’d call so she Leaves swaying to a light He’s never been absorbed in a could just answer her phone breeze, hug drinking the sun like a He’s never been cradled in the Jesus said that whatever you do strawberry freeze. aura of love to the least of these you do unto He’s never sensed lips upon his Me I watch quietly not wanting to cheek Now we know why Jesus Still distract, Only the impression of tears Weeps this exotic bloom performing her week upon week act. As he beseeched the only God Where I am From She dances erotically as if for a he’s ever known by Bernadette Bradham lover, But lately he’s been sensing oblivious to me watching from that the God of Love has I am from closets big and small, deep undercover. abandoned him too From belts and broken glass. I am from nightmares that are I am drawn to her like a moth to Jesus Weeps way too a flame, real for a child to feel wanting to take possession; The book of God’s love has And many darkened corners staking my claim. somehow been misread with prayers of My fingers grasp the stem of my Maybe misplaced, but it’s God’s not to be seen or heard new friend, love that pours from this pen I am from the oak trees that As her sugar plum dance When does it end? When will surround our house, comes to an end. we obey? whose mighty branches held a The Hand of Love that we solicit battered girl Prisoner every day grown before her time. by Brandon Pierce Why do we take but refuse to I am from broken dolls and give away broken beer bottles When I think of you, This is the conundrum that my From Kish to Howard I remember what I lost that day. pen ponders today And from my immigrant I find myself a prisoner, We live in a world that worships grandmother’s spending, life locked away. ice courage and my Cherokee When I fell for you, We make it rain leavin’ the grandmother’s truly, I fell hard. homeless cold, but hey, our strength to endure. Now every door is shot, necks look nice From walking everywhere and and every window barred. We have dough but we break many places. Within the memory of you, no bread I am from Christmas midnight all the pain is the warden. So many families go left unfead services and My heart now guarded, All in search of fulfillment that’s a loving God who loves me no ever since the end. only found at the Father’s feet matter what. Put in solitary, If we’d just kneel down there From murders and rapists, threw away the key. then we would meet And from Adam and Eve who Waiting now, The destitute man that we’ve started it for someone to set me free. cast to the streets All. I am from the moments…

From Father to Son And held true to a dream. One A pain birthed in serenity by Brandon Rushig day surely! Filling the no longer empty! Do not go quietly from life to Do not fear the grey whisper of dream. Dark-Thirty (check if this is the wind Or accept that it is, not what it the title) as it prowls within the dry bush seems. by Stephen D. Laud and grass. Or those pale, streaked, Finding Me For The First Time Who to write to. What to say? savages of lost kin by Terrylee Nelson Why? that glide like ghosts behind the mirrored glass. In the barren wastelands of this Bricks, steel, pipes Hold steady your heart as it mind Exit doors, pounds away, Somewhere is something I left And lights bright enough to read in shadows and moonlight that behind by. Is there anything Steel boxes of specimens in to quench this cotton beds. thirst? Concrete, bricks of floors I went through the Steel table of powder bad can it get any toothpaste, deodorant, pictures, worse? soap, All I see is water in a bottle, non-aspirin, desolation chapstick All I know is isolation Pictures-- Lynn, Mom… Each step is more labored than the Radio-- Sublime in the ears; last Love is, is what I got How much time has really past? Once, long ago, Lynn is This sun over me standing seems to never go next to the singer of this song. A away picture Burning into me taken. In a locker box of steel this bitter betray under a As my lips crack bed of cotton. and fingers start to bleed Poem (untitled) Art by Robert Dennino All I want is all I will ever need by Santiago Duran cross your path. As my vision dances before me I look up to heaven for the first Or give up all hope of Embodied apparitions is all that verse to my poetry. tomorrow’s day! I see While worms are feeding on And moan, or grope about; but As I collapse and fade away apples that grow on trees. never laugh. Only to awaken in better days The bad apple has fallen though Stand tall like green pines As I question as to why I got nobody seems to notice, against the sky here When the seeds are planted that howls and rumbles with This complacent comfort seems and up sprouts the newest poet. such sad fury. like fear Or those two brothers who As I realize the tribulations are I triumph over adversity and swore they would fly! weathered and gone understand the very In this peace I gaze upon essence of life.

Just like those who lived in Trapped in the Cage Your ravaging appetite for hope, complete darkness know the by Lawrence Stewart II a guide would feed, true value of light. You compel the intolerable And I can’t even begin to Every day it eats away darkness to disperse and express to you my truest I feel it though I dare not say unbind, feelings, Inside me a burning fire Quoting the most comforting Only that at sometimes in my Fueled by my vengeful desire. bible verses within your mind, life death becomes appealing. This fire, it burns my soul away You begin to lose your sanity in I’ve looked for my way out all I More and more each passing the deafening silence in your hit are dead-ends and day ears, sand storms.. My heart, mind, and soul You’d be happy to hear And friends who’ve turned foe consumed anything for alleviate your fears, and dark roads with land By the flames of wrath and You hear a voice from far away, thorns. doom. You fear that it might lead you But something is stirring, The blaze burns me and knocks astray, awakening deep feelings in my me down Your feet are stuck and you’re heart. Pinning my true self to the gasping for air, While foreign words are dotted ground You are not alone…someone on letters when we’re ap- My true self tries to fight else is there, art But is blinded by the fire’s light. You hear your name from a And it seems that your genuine This fire inside is my rage voice that you affections have fostered I tried to lock it in a cage know, these feelings that seem brand One day it stole the key The sound so gentle…like new Now I’m in the cage where it falling snow, With a love that mends hearts locked me. You open your eyes to a painful and makes life as stinging, sweet as you. Silent Nightmare The light is like the sound of And it’s quite a change from by Bradley A. McMinn angels singing, jagged roses that’ve been The down is here frozen by cold emotions. Dark eyes of liquid and now you are Still they fought to live on even night, safe, though love came Watching you all The next night is in small portions. through the twilight, looming…it And I really appreciate the love You feel their gaze doesn’t mind that you’ve given me and tremble with the wait. without conditions. fright, So I thought I’d write you a Begging for the air poem with respect you know comes with and one mission. the light, To express my gratitude ‘cause You fear the things it’s important for me hidden within the Art by Jimmy Coleman that you know this. silent dark, Thank you for picking up this You hope the bleakness doesn’t Untitled bad apple, leave its mark, by C’Leo Michael Pavia that no one seems to notice. You envision the horrors of an endless hell, Wishing for the down at the toll I was but a child of the bell, fighting a war not mine. Praying for a guide to come in He was my partner in death, your time of need, my co-murderer, my associate executioner

13 in the decadent art of killing; The Army said they’re coming No Regrets my teacher of debauchery but they can’t make it today by Daniel Grunvold in life and death. There’s no one else to do the He taught me to hold my breath, job that’s why we die today I have no regrets for the pain of To aim, My wife and kid are hiding, or life, for it has given me strength. To gently squeeze, they’re running to the west Nor for the sorrow, for it has not to look at the I’ll stay right here and die today made me real and helped me to lifeless bodies doing what I do best. understand myself. we daily left I’ve got a little water, but I don’t Nor for the despair, for I have in our path. have any food cast off illusion. Don’t matter won’t live long I have no regrets for the Remembering Michael, my enough to do me any good loneliness, for I have made Vietnam, M.S.M.C.-D.D. partner I’ve got six hundred bullets, friends with the night. – may he rest in peace. there’s no way they’re gonna Nor for the rage of anger, for I last. have found inner peace. The Tortoise, In the Air One thing I know is that I’ll die Nor for having made enemies, by Jonathan Holeman before I let them pass. who taught me what not to be. I see the one, I see the ten I have no regrets for the death Swimming in the sandy dunes thousand I must kill of loved ones, for they showed of deserts and dusty dawns I’m gonna die right here today me how to live. To arise upon the horizon right up here on this hill Nor for rejected love, for I have A phantom moon, full, I didn’t travel overseas, invade learned to love myself. will soon be gone. some foreign land Nor for the passage of time, that Shadows stopping at high noon Don’t fight for politicians or for which has given me my A tortoise cries inside his shell oil out in the sand. memories. Waiting for the fire of life Can almost see my house from I have no regrets for the To pass across his hidden here, but I won’t make it back shackles of deception, for I room. There’s no damn way for have broken through the walls Fading warmth, and gusting anyone to live through this of the prisons of my wind attack mind. Push violet hues amongst the I’ve got three hundred bullets Nor for the wandering, which clouds and that will not be enough has led me home. The tortoise pushes out from When they run out, I’ve got my Nor for the road taken, which underneath knife and that’s when it gets has opened my eyes to destiny. A buried tomb of stale air rough. I have no regrets, for life is born Into the night, and frozen cold No history will ever be about our of struggle, and the will to Of quiet, ice, and solitude. doomed last stand survive. Tomorrow will there even be a single living man? Today We Die If anyone survives to find these Perversity by Robert Richter words I wrote today Jacob Blue Baladez Remember that we died before They landed out by Allentown we let them pass this way. out in an open field The perversion of my sins, We’re gonna die right here, feels the pleasures of the skin… today we are not gonna yield filled with blood, skin of fire… We don’t know where they pleasure in pain, tears of came from and we don’t know desire… why they came We’re gonna stay right and kill them and die just the same.

I Know Why the Caged Bird But the fear in your eyes Sings It will warn them of the horror, reveals one more lie. By Uhuru B Rowe terror, and genocide that awaits Death before dishonor; that’s them if they suffer the what the vows allege. It sings because it is trapped in unfortunate fate of being But your vows are worthless; a life of hell, inside a tiny cage, captured for entertainment, time to uphold your pledge unable to move but a few consumption, or capitalist profit. spaces in one direction or the other. I know what the caged bird is Traditional Spelling singing… by Anthony Tinsman It sings because it is alone, treated with indifference, held It is singing songs, not of joy One time captive in an unnatural habitat and contentment, but of rage in county jail against its will. and REVOLUTION. an old black man writing a letter home It sings out of pure desperation, sat beside me at the table hoping that someone or Broken Promises he stopped something will hear its cries and by William Huddleston and shook his head and looked liberate it from its unjust around enslavement. Broken promises are more then he common than not, asked me to spell It sings while patiently waiting Lies can be forgave but never for its captor to slip up, make a be forgot. T H E mistake, and leave the cage You solemnly swore but you door ajar… lied to my face; “Well, I believe it’s So much for the code or the tee Them, it will escape, fly speedily oath we embrace. 8che away, only briefly looking back What happened to honor or the eee.” to behold the misery and torture pledge you gave? He wrote it down painfully of isolation that it was fortunate Or binding words from the certain to leave behind. cradle to the grave? both of us somber Where the ways of an oath are sensing it, waiting for it It will fly to the land where its commonly spoke then he looked at me again ancestors dwelled, and dance in A traitor must pay for promises I joked the fields where its distant broke. this had better be a short cousins socialized and sung So you crossed your heart and fucking letter freedom songs while collectively you hoped to die. foraging for food.

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