Long Incarceration Poems
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In the padded cell of my confinement I think and feel and slide
Down a slope of reason and emotion dressed in gloves and mask
I am rebel but in times of these I learnt to follow orders and abide
Though staying sane other than my normal lunacy remains a task
I am a rubber ball in stagnant motion bouncing back inside four walls
A ricochet master in training who gathers speed in pinball fashion
Take out my slingshot and ponder where when and if the rebound falls
No prisoner restrained by mental shackles and full of uninhibited passion
Immured and isolated as an island's rock I gather humility and gratitude
Because I happen to have the privilege of a home to be locked up in
Play with marbles in my mind sorting memories that have been skewed
Throw socks and knickers from my afar bed straight into the laundry bin
Boredom is just another word for lacking ingenuous fantasy or inspiration
The price of segregation and detachment is very small if one has shelter
With fire place and running water well beyond most people's expectation
When the so called global village is euphemistic for chaotic helter-skelter
Playing darts the arrow of injustice flies straight into a bull's eye's scream
The chess board that revives my tedium contains a set of weary pawns
But I am fortunate to be locked down or up together with my Fairy Queen
My lover soul mate best friend ever who shares my moods from dusk to dawn
How could I dare to complain about my situation of comfort in such quarantine
It's easy to dust the shelves when reading every book before you put it back
Not to mention rather tongue in cheek that I have loo rolls and my own latrine
All I have to do is stay at home and write my poems during the virus' attack
Duress of incarceration with washed hands and coughs into a healthy elbow
But cubital hygiene so to speak will not affect my articulation for any length
I promise sincerely that my words will not be sanitized as I condense my flow
Times could be better but rising to a challenge concentrates one's real strength
02nd March 2020
Quarantine Poetry Contest
Sponsor Julie Leigh Rodeheaver
Embracing Poetry
Freedom on the lam, where the poet sings
To hearts that are imprisoned against their will,
Inspires the bereaved mind to spring to life
And uplifts hearts to bloom and burst liberated
When the pain of incarceration ceases.
“Gloria excelsis” in the world.
Frolic away, poet, and tell the world,
Encouraging bosoms to join in song,
Birthing new beginnings where weed growth ceases;
And let fresh hope generate unfalt'ring wills
Smothered with deeds abounding with liberties;
Death is certain, but poetry is life.
Martyrs forced into cages forfeit their lives
While conquerors plant flags around the world,
Stealing wealth, and curtailing liberties,
And muzzling the lips of those who would sing
Of freedom’s great joy without broken will,
With gladness boasting liberty’s song ceaselessly.
Were I to stretch the cage’s bars ‘til strength ceased
And purge authority aspersing my life
And mock their failure to immure my will,
As I sail poetic rhymes in the world
With hearts of fellow poets yearning to sing
Vociferously with new liberties.
But destiny’s path squashes liberty,
And lungs collapse when inflation ceases.
If evil is not rebuffed, who will sing the babe
To sleep with dreams of a future life obtained
Through sacrifices for Erato’s world,
Inheriting bold character and will?
Still, they rehearse scripts to truncate my will
With mulct and abrogate my liberty,
But not you, dear poet. Nix not of this world,
Whose toes skip over bloomed fields while mine cease
To dance in delight to the verse of life—
Ill speak they your name, forbidding me to sing.
Ere my will dims, indulge me with a song
Describing life’s passion for liberty;
Let my heartbeat cease in joy from the world.
***
Notes:
Gloria excelsis (Latin): Glory in the highest.
Erato: muse (Greek mythology) of lyric and poetry.
Urania: muse (Greek mythology) of music, song, and dance.
They kill a body and to prison go
Behind the bars with time they have to pay
A life that’s deadened with a life exchanged
So law and justice see the light of day
But tell me what of those who kill the heart
Who murder love and glibly walk on by
Incarceration is not their reward
The weight of guilt to bear, they do deny
A greater crime than this is yet to be
To kill a heart and form the living dead
Someone who walks and talks but is not real
Who shoots away the day and weeps in bed
Imprisoned they should be who now walk free
A murdered heart, a greater crime must be!
Jade Celeste
He is with you in your emotional lows
He is with you in the ebbs and flows
He is with you in each ecstatic spike
He is with each nation and person alike
He is with you in the operating room
He is with you during the morning commute
He is with you in the sleepless nights
He is with you climbing those heights
He is with you in the doctor’s waiting room
He is with us when we wait on Him
He leads us to Mt. Zion (away from Mt. Bashan)
Receive the invitation, and repent while you still can
He is with you in the funeral home
He promised that we don’t mourn as those with no hope
He is with you in the grocery store
(He’s both knocking and is The Door)
He is with you on the bus and the train
(Blessing all with His rain)
He is with you when you go out and return again
He turns white, what was a crimson stain
He is with you in sadness and grief
He is with you during incarceration and release
He is for you, He is on your side
(They pierced His heart through His side)
He is with you when you’re afraid or alone
(He is found in the pages of The Holy Tome)
He’s the church’s Head
He’s blessed the marriage bed
(And those of that certain slew
He blesses singleness too)
He is with you during every breath
Even when you contemplate an imminent death
He has answers when it’s why, why why?
He came to serve and to lay down His life
He also had that question while on the cross
He’s the Refiner, He brings out our dross
The Father has given, and none will be lost
(as those who count loss)
He accepts all who call on His name
(From Special Revelation or Natural Revelation the same)
He's the path to eternity
He saves for certainty
He rules the earth below from His perch on High
He sees all that can be seen with His bird’s eye
He looks down on the inhabitants thereof
His eyes are too pure, His law is His love
He considers all sighs and plea’s
He accepts the prayers from those on their knees
(or a heart that is bowed metaphorically)
He knows our frustrations, He knows anxiety
He knows you and me, He is Jesus C.
They rolled him into the ambulance,
feet drumming weakly on the steel gurney.
He was undoubtedly an impatient man.
Some claimed
that he had once (in a fit of pique),
thrown his cell-phone off a bridge.
Today an automated voice had said:
‘his call was very important’ --- but
sixteen were ahead of him;
after fifteen long minutes he lost the connection.
Then it was that he took a kitchen knife
and stabbed his noisy neighbor
who had bugged him all year.
Fearing incarceration
and having no reason not to,
he cut his own wrists.
It’s the little things that inflame;
the oft repeated annoyances.
After fifteen maddening scratches
a persistent itch can turn murderous
What is love? Love is a portrait of art and love is precious.
Love is amazing poetry, simple imagery of alluring beauty,
Love is wonderful presentation filled with nice surprises,
Love is the first duel in the field to conquer honour and duty.
Love comes at dawn with welcome arms full of charm.
Love lives in the land of glory, by bristly heroic sacrifices,
Love is a language the conscious noun use of genres from,
Love is a life light until our soul eclipses the eternal skies.
Before pall bears, shadows fall smouldering ashes in a fire,
Love is the vows we make and the vows that we will shun,
Requiem powers of the dead lend strength to the survivor,
Love is in colours of the rainbow that glows for every nation,
Love is the scroll on which romantics wrote symphony of notes,
Love is the road on which they walk towards elusive goal,
Love is the boat on which they serenade carnival floats,
Love is in the air on streets of gold catching snow and windfall.
Love is many laughs and as many cries, we treasured most,
Love is risk and adventures floundering in the sleepless night,
In a chasm of abyss leap the soul above incarceration mist,
Clasped the fantasy that yearns for passion in secret delight.
Love is a cloud on which birth surprisingly thrives on earth,
In time, our emotions tear down the walls on which it stood,
Until we go back in reincarnation blur along the same path.
And consume the hearts splitting off into tiny pieces of good.
Love is a mixture hidden deep in faith, of belief small or great,
Unhinged the carriage driven by mortals in athleticism flame,
The contagious nectar of taste refined more palatable than hate,
In rhapsody of human glory, the acumen brings no shame.
If you had love? Would you give it away or keep it as a gift?
Finding ways through prison bars up the stairs and into the stars,
Love is too costly to waste scratching your head tearing at yourself,
From the almighty plan, it is our needful breath of joy and tears.
Back in 1964 Harry and Larry
Just couldn't agree,
Who was cuter,
Mary or Dee.
At lunch was a fight,
Kids gathered 'round;
Didn't care it weren't right--
Fists a-flying, blows raining down.
In the end, Harry'd won,
Who'd thought Mary cute;
The fighters shook hands,
It'd all been a hoot!
2014 -- Same thing happened
In back of the school:
A fistfight broke out,
It seemed really cool.
Only this time it lasted
A mere minute or two,
When police sirens sounded:
Tires squealed, men in blue.
They broke up the fight,
Took the combatants to the station;
Jailed 'em for assault overnight,
Future-imperiling incarceration.
The school did its job too,
Expelling both without a hearing,
Prompting educators' cheering--
Teenaged booing and jeering.
In 1964 boys fought hard,
Then made up and shook hands
The authorities were quiet,
No reprimands.
Fifty years later, fighting's outlawed,
Boys have no chance:
Gone is romance,
Schools look askance.
it was that dull ache that kept her going
a longing for freedom whatever that meant
confined to the straight-jacket of her mind
she tore at the shackles until her heart bled
clots obstructed safe burden-less passage
stenosed angry valves of calcified reason
fear-full emotion angst existential pain
tarred and feathered she hung on to hurt
became a victim of self-imposed torture
powerless tied to the tight roped noose
eyes gaping in terror torture blindsight
mouth twisted in agony and void scream
her ears throbbed from constant drumbeat
released vile pus that would not scar over
formed venomous channels into her brain
while relentless torture became the norm
all she did was to speak out against injustice
demanded to live and narrate her own story
pure untarnished by complicit thought control
but they crushed her pen and broke her fingers
mocked all resolve and continued to pulp her
into surrender and waited for her to give up
they fed her night mares and rationed the food
but insomniac and starving she became immune
to deprivation and depraved masters of evil
twisted wrists though fractured and disfigured
shaped her escape when handcuffs loosened
sharpened restraints into blades of defence
the ache did not vanish but altered her view
on humanity incarceration and empowerment
liberation comes at a price and increased value
she locks the door behind me and glimpses revenge
no pardon no thumb screws not even cut throats
for when oppressors have no one else to persecute
but themselves the ultimate punishment is served
23rd April 2021
Writing Prompt Ache
Constance La France
I'm only 15 so tell me why you're tempted?
Knowing I'm underage and my actions can't be consented
I'm a jail sentence and a life on a registry.
Are you willing to risk your freedom for a single night with me?
Thats hilarious.
That question never crossed your mind.
I wish I had been smarter and that I could take back time.
I had a fetish..
I liked being the bait for predators in silent temptation,
I liked being in an embrace that could lead to their incarceration.
I liked knowing...
They were willing to throw their life away for me.
Not only did it hurt but it fueled their Illigal fantasies.
I was problematic.
I was toxic to my core.
No matter how much I hated myself I always wanted more.
I keep messages and pictures of
Those who I'd chosen.
Knowing what they are yet their names forever unspoken.
I promised to keep it secret and that promise I shall keep.
Even when he looked conflicted as he dropped me to my knees.
Men knowing better. Men in places of power.
Men far too old for me in a 3 am shower.
I have issues exactly as they seem...
I liked being a pedofiles dream.
Justice is a lie fabricated by the white man
Benefited towards whiteness and proximity to it
It doesnt take generosity to see
That a system used to police would be against the black race
A system started after slavery -
Policing or incarceration
Once control of freedom was lost
They resorted to us being unjustly locked up
Justice was never made for us
It was just a quick solution to the problem -
Us
Their motive wasn't to protect and serve,
Except for the oppressors
It was to keep black people in chains with 'means and cause'
But really it was because the 13th ammendment had a loophole
A clause used as a weapon for control
Justice doesn't exist, it never did
A myth created by the monolith
Lies on the black man are excused
And when we're killed it's self defence
Because apparently being black is a criminal offense
Don't insult our intelligence
Trying to gaslight us into believing we're delusional
But it's hard to ignore when our eyes are constantly exposed -
To your unjust treatment
We are not blind to being targeted
It's not some hidden secret
It happens worldwide, you just willfully ignore it
Having power means you don't have to be cautious
You don't even have to explain the obvious
The oppressors own the narrative
When your privileged no one gets to question your decisions
Justice resides in the hands of those with pale skin -
Or those who are accepted within it,
Or to put it simply those with black or are mixed with black skin
'Justice' was only there to place us in prison
And to keep them the 'victims'