Prison Poetry I
by W. P.
You say you love me and that gives you
To make me face feelings that I always fight.
You know that these feelings could shape and control me
When in all other things I stand steadfast and free.
And what a lovely, devastated life I have known
With no responsibilities or a place to call home.
Not even a spot of mist has touched my eyes
And not a second thought whether I live or die.
My heart pumped on stubbornly and oh so slow,
And from my wounds not one drop would flow.
Now here you come and make me feel worthwhile
Because to reach me you must have fought through all sorts of vile.
Now I am face to face with life and death
And I can't choose one as I would right or left.
The me inside of me is afraid to let go;
He has become accustomed to the pain and loves it ever so.
So no choices can I make quite yet
Until such a time me and me is well met.
And even though we must travel through this strange and foreign
Do not worry because I will be there holding your hand.
"Looking Westward" by
From a bridge,
And silent currents
At men in waders
"On an Unlighted Bridge" by
On an unlighted bridge
Above oily waters slick stillness,
Brushed by comforting coolness
Under cloud-curtained skies.
Behind high sullen greyness
Nights stars show no brilliance
And the moons sleepy jaundice
"The Mad River"
by Steven Lawrence©
The mad river roars,
I watch how it crushes
Its rage fills my ears
With an unholy
And its might shakes the banks
Where I sit
for the show.
Sometimes I can watch
With a heart
full of wonder
And at times full of pity, or love
Or of fear
And at times I am swept up
In the midst
of its anger,
Tossed about like a rag doll
By the habits
But Im learning acceptance
Of its torrents
Im learning to open
let it flow
And befriending the currents
Calmer waters and clarity
The mad river
by Robert Snyder©
Ive been thinking
about all that drinking
and how I was sinking
into a state of despair
now I can see
what then happened to me
as the insanity
ruled me unaware
Thoughts filled my head
about cutting the thread
that kept me from the dead
even without drinking wine
that this life is is good
and with it I can stand
and start on the path so
Prisons are of two kinds, the outer and the
In each of them one finds, both the saint and the sinner
The outer is made up of steel and bars and razor
Its a place without much love, where anger burns like fire;
From outside they look like stone, with big yards of green grasses,
But theyre made of flesh and bone, mere graveyards for the
Within there are concrete cells, where the men are caged like beasts,
In their hearts bitterness swells, which others feed on like feasts;
Its here you long for freedom, wishing for the time of old,
But its here you can gain wisdom, without having to be told
The inner is made of mind, out of reach of the
Around it you will not find, any gates, doors, or fences;
It is a place no one knows, but is definitely real.
Here is where your inner foes, are stronger than any steel;
The mind can go either way, now happy and then irrate,
The choice is yours every day, but sadly do you choose hate;
Its here that you need control, if happiness you wish for,
Knowledge can do the patrol, guiding you through wisdoms door
If you find yourself in a cage, dont sit
there as on a shelf,
Go beyond the burning rage, and come to know your inner self.