PRISONER EXPRESS POETRY ANTHOLOGY 13 JANUARY 2015 ALTERNATIVES LIBRARY Special thanks to the following contributors: Daniel Peterson William Andrews Otis L. Jones Z.L. King By Brandon Rushing Taylor Gerths Matthew Fox Dion Coleman Elisandro Antonio Nava Ronald Edinburgh Cesar Molina Bobby E. Brown G. Neal Straunch Christopher Hopkins Anthony Murillo Lazaro Vazquez “Terry Lee” Nelson D.B. Hughes Semaj Naoji Herrington Don Jose Antonio Saez Daniel R. Jackson Joshua Mathew Finklea Kellon M. Williams Gary Gregory Maurice Stokes Trent Boon Ron Clifton Albert Doggett Kevin Harrison Noman Theriot Nkrumah humumba Valier Maure B. Wade G. Neal Strauch Francisco “Bule” Ramirez Marcus Randall Brown Don Brown Michael Griffis Andrae Stradford Jacob Silva Bruce (E.D.) Feaster Joseph Sierski Maurice Stokes Noman Theriot Robert Patnoude Brandon Rushing J. S. Slaymaker Lucky General Borg (Greg Buck) Jonathon Rininger Jonathan C Holeman Lazaro Vazquez Eddie Menetee Maurice B. Wade Mychael Chambers Nathaniel Vowalsin Donald K. Brown II William Carlson Rj Clayton Anthony Spaulding Samantha Rew Chad Frank Abdul “Dula-Dym” Fowler Eddie Menetee Dexter Rabadan James Jackson Alessandro Milan Sabron Stewart Wesley R. Carroll Lonnie Smith Benjamin Rivera Joseph Sierski Durrell Anthony Puchett Copyright notiCe: All works belong to their Rodney M. Lane Earl S. Polk original Creators and have been republished by Prisoner Express with the permission of the Michael Madrid creators. Please do not reproduCe anything in Juan Frias L. Vasquez this book without getting permission, in writing, Robert Patroude from the artist. Prisoner express Can provide you James Chonley Don K. Brown II the address of anyone published here you may Sarah Julie Spencer want to write to. Wen-Dell Sabron Stewart Garrett Lincoln Morris Michael Madrio C. Wright Quentin Horris Luis Reyes J.W Johnson 1 And to those whose artwork was used in this journal. Artists include: Rocco Ranallo Kelley Fredricksen I apologize to those whose Jason Forbes names do not precede their Antwon Tylor artwork. If your name is not Carlos Delagarza Jr coupled with your work, Manuel Antonio Gonzalez III send a letter so we can fix it Alejandro Cruz Benauidez Thomas Stranblad on the web version of this And many others…. poetry journal. Thank you. Kelley Fredricksen 2 To the reshaping of the mind. When times collided and God decided, to bring me Mystery of Mysteries Forth, to the earth… By Anthony Murillo The Cold Truth Children of the Gods Life is a great mystery— By Noman Theriot By Daniel Peterson So is death, And self. Life is filled with many changes, Touching the Artist’s brush, Changes we possess, but who’s to blame The blue paint is the heavens, A Warrior spends a lifetime us. Red is life, Attempting to unravel the mystery, We are all the same in many different Yellow is the sun shining forth. All the while ways, Each are gods Knowing the mystery is unravelable. We hunger and strive, just to get paid. Each stands alone, proud, Unblemished, untarnished. Unraveling is the ideal. We are no longer children but grown Blue paints the sky, Acting for the sake of acting— adults, Red paints the ground, Without promise of reward— We put in so much effort, for such little Yellow illuminates the world. Is the mood. results. They speak: Time after time, they questions, they’re “I rule the skies; I am god.” With this idea and mood, replayed, “I form the earth; bow to me.” The Warrior storms the citadel of Reason But those are the choices we all have “I shine forth illuminating man, omniscient.” And gets chopped down made. Each has a place on the pallet, By the self-appointed guardians of Each has a purpose in life, “reality.” Our hearts, they have been broken, Each is the creator. All in all the same by the ones who bare Unblemished, untarnished, I Wonder our children, Pure colors are proud. By Daniel R. Jackson And the ones who have passed away. The Artist smiles because Only he understands that Sometimes I wonder, what was the plan at Why did it come to this? The masterpiece is in birth Why did this happen? The bending of the rainbow, The moment I exited the womb, and A blending of the pure entered the earth From having a job, to the pistol I was That true life is only found in Such a small being, in this vast world packing. The children of the gods. Am I crazy to think I have a purpose Penned up pain, from scars unhealed History of Abuse Remember the Artist Looking forward to the future, while time By Don Brown By Elisandro Antonio Nava stands still Searching for a method to the this I killed myself in ‘89 When our ashes are finally scattered madness But somehow I’m still Into the wind, into forever, Hoping an answer would surface Feeling fine Will our words have even mattered? Find me, leave me, find me, leave me, Did they bring anything together? that’s the way I died again in ‘92 It usually goes From the same old shit When our etchings on the wall, Hold me, need me, love me, breathe me, I always do Undiscovered, have been found, but that’s Will they understand them at all Never how the story’s composed In ’95 I lost my life As they crumble to the ground? Beautiful or brutal what is this thing called Lost my home, my kids, life My wife When our letters are excavated Warm then cool, warm then cool, and From a deep and damp pit, sometimes In ’98 all hell broke loose Will our secrets be exonerated? Cold as ice Evil lies and hate Will they make any sense of it? Don’t try to understand me, your efforts Found me in a noose are Will they know the love we knew Useless, you will always fail, if you should Two years in hell for another’s sin Or hear the songs we sang? I’ve reached a point, the lowest one could Then 2000 came and brought Will they know to whom our prayers flew go, Me life again When heaven’s bells gloriously rang? So I could never be understood That’s why at times I often wonder, what Soon came the year 2004 I hope that they will know us all was the I thought I’d never For every mark we leave behind, Plan at birth Suffer more From the paintings on the wall, 3 In 2006 I lost the stars When I carried guns and sold drugs they Of the heart You just can’t see them encouraged my mentality From behind bars. But now that I carry books and teach they Frigid Incarceration want to silence me By Jonathan C Holeman In’09 they unlocked my cage Claiming what I’m doing is against prison I let loose my anger, my pain, policy Upon a field of white My rage. Because I’m now threatening to make a Beneath a bitter sky of grey change in our society Constrained in the artic In two short and angry years They told me they’d cut my time if I offered Bound by the permafrost Twenty eleven proved that I still my apologies As the polar zyphers drift Had so many tears. And forget who I am and let go my Across the frozen glacier ideologies In the freezer of the mind When I Was Young And stop teaching men positive qualities By Jacob Silva Because the lack of men in jail will Flakes of images flow down overthrow municipalities From the icebox of the past When I was young, And cause a rise in in unemployment and Immured by all the faults Imagination was play, crash our economy Of the sunshine hampered by the clouds When I wanted the phone to ring, Because so many fields depend on us I said bbring, bbring, being admonished honestly Memories formed to icicles Then I said, So with the bigger picture in mind they ask Limited to pain and sorrows Hello? me to read and teach silently Of mistakes numbered by repression And let the blind stay blind and keep A chill mist hardens into hail When I was young, behaving violently That pelts the blood red face Summer days were endless, Trying to convince me that the world can’t Imbarrased by the restraints Sticks were guns, survive if some don’t remain asleep That enclosed the frigid heart But no one was killed, So like the slave masters of the past All was pretend; they’ve forbidden me to teach Non-Haiku 1 So no matter how far we go they can keep When I was young us on the hook Clouds and mountains Murder Rape War, That’s why they make it easier to get a Rivers and streams Were grown-up games; knife than it is to get a book… The bullfrog dresses in mossy green Dragonfly escapes a subtle death When I was young, A was the alphabet’s beginning, Non-haiku 2 Look up Sex in the dictionary – Blush – Bees in sweetness What’s intercourse anyway? The birds in flight Angels can not fly into the night When I was young, In the dark, there’s no hope to guide them I knew I’d never grow old – Old people came pre-packaged in foil – Diné Princess Assured of this, By Maurice B. Wade I was happy; Blackbirds across the fen catch her eye; When I was young, She stands on browning grass to watch Cancer was a horoscope them fly. In a Reader’s Digest, San Juan climbs on a north of tides, I am a Leo, but my Backing into springs and hills, floating isles Roar is feeble; Jason Forbes Of flowers, bringing striped Bass in to lust and feed.