Politicized

“Politicized”
everyone hates politics
so I hear
I flee debates and turn on the TV and still, there are politics
so I see
sports entertainment attire news and social lives politicized
so it feels
if I could taste politics
it’d probably taste like the water in Flint, Michigan or maybe French fries being called Freedom fries
if I could smell politics
maybe it’d be the smell of rain in Autumn or the smog and chemical emissions into our changing atmosphere and climate while arguing global warming contemplating how clean the air I breath really is
If I could become a part of politics
I’d stay exactly where I am, in prison, because money sets values to life and always becomes the bottomline
if I could name my child a truth of politics
his or her name would be left or right, or, right or wrong, because it seems there is no moral standard for compromise or neutral ground

“One moment at a time”
He turns the nozzles to the right until the just drips are visible
as the last traces of dirt and soap cascade down his body and travels down the deep black orifice in floor…
his thoughts trail off for a moment
feeling in sync with that deep dark tunneling unknown
in a way, he identifies internal…maybe even externally
pulling back the shower curtain slightly, then reaching for his towel
he starts the same process
drying his head
the towel is brought over his face
he closes his eyes, breaths deeply, and meditates for 20seconds
he is gone, lost to his world of internalization
a periodic escape
collecting his wits and gathering his senses
he reflects over his whole day up until that point in a rapid flash of mental pictures sequencing behind his eyelids
satisfied with the information gathered
again he breaths in deeply, and then exhales
rallying his strength courage and reserve
because this process symbolizes a start over
yet the repeating of this continual depravities’ reality
he then chants ritualistically “here we go again”
and with that, the towel coats the rest of his body
his eyes open
his ears are aware to the familiar sounds of running water and loud banter
he is back…
unfortunately
he we go again, as he leaves the shower in shorts sandals and no shirt wearing that renewed strength confidence comfort and pride buffed and sculpted from his jaw to his waistline
just enough water left on his body for its stainless and glistening effect
seemingly unphased by his environment
he has started back over
one moment at a time

“Segregation”
alone within the darkest hollow he retreated
darkness enveloped his now
inside and out, his light likened to coal
while blinds draping the windows of his soul, shut tight
there, dawned a blacker abyss
a decrepit contrast littering this deathly fog
imagination, colored as a gothic reflection of deep cave dwellings absent glow from distant moon and stars
sound as black as the upside down bodies of winged shadows
their screeches invading his senses
everything there-
as he remembered, yet not
only aware of self-
rewarded by that privileged knowledge
since he has stood stranger to company far too long
ignorant his place and fit
gestures and mannerisms foreign
etiquette and norms alien
gab and humor absent
the conjured echoes-haunting
a mystifying black ambiance he embraces
swallowing his last bit of resistance
his taste-a dried out well
he smells the void
touches nothing
and feels it all
best friend to loneliness
kin to darkness
married to space
he finds life and now thrives in the hole
harmony within his new habitat

“Process”
life is a process
food gets processed
inventory gets processed
information gets processed
memories love and scorn are a process
everything is a process, then it gets processed
am I person or process?
my mistakes were a process-
leading me straight into prison…after getting processed

“wonder why?”
My heart is my handicap
I have loyalties of principal and heart, but not of deep rooted emotion
so its easy for me to be misled or sensationalize moments
I guess that makes me human right?
I’m aware of this contortion within myself, but not many are
now, if you may wonder why many people become pulled in and a part of their environment
not rising above individually, for the worse or better
look at life look at relationships look at politics…look at prison