She told me everything with her eyes, usually I never listen, always taken up with everything else in my day and the days to come except the moment at hand! But this time I refused to allow my mind to drift, usually preoccupied with things that could take care of themselves, if not wait for when I had time to address them. I saw that void behind her focus, saying so much yet assuming I’d miss her signs once again, but still there was a piercing hope that held no facade of need behind her electric gaze. Why had I kept her waiting for so long? It was my lack of confidence in self, believing her too good to feel something for average ol’ me. What could I offer, that a whole world of what I may consider more than qualified men, could offer? I don’t think now was a time to ponder that, besides she always spoke directly about the things she loved about me, but bashfully I let them roll off her tongue as candor and casual niceties that are no more fitted than for, anything but playful gab. Trying to guess a woman’s intent, in any capacity is enough to send you to a nuthouse. What was it again? Oh yea, she loved my words, believing beneath them all, held a layer much deeper than what she has ever experienced in another man, she “vibed off my spirit” she’d always say. Yea, the feeling was mutual, but it always ended with me drifting into fantasies of more carnal desires and the friction we could share that would rival the lightening bolts of Zeus himself. Though time again, I’d quiet those thoughts, knowing I do have that layer of depth, priding myself of being capable of maintaining cordial bonds with women that didn’t have to involve sex, after all my best friend is a woman, so I’d try hard to quell those fires. Believing I could be more than the typical man, that’s assumed to not be able to think beyond sex and never knowing any good reason for waiting, as if wanting it all right away was always a matter of life or death. But this time, to my own peril, I finally realized I had thought too much into it and waited too long. I break our silence suddenly saying, “I get it now”. By her look, I could tell she was puzzled, caught off guard, by my words. I finished by saying, “I hear you, finally, way later than I should’ve, in saying nothing, your eyes said it all, I should’ve known, claiming to know you so well, and I’m right there with you, I always have been…I was just scared I admit, over thinking like usual, but trust me, the way I feel about you keeps the fire squad on call!” She blushed so hard at that moment, only heightening her radiant glow, resembling the sun’s rays peeking over the horizon. We both needed each other, why lose another second. I wont explain what happened next, because no words can even describe the plain we took off to from there, some experiences just cant be explained with words.
So I know you’re probably wondering why did I take you on this intimate ride with no details of explosive passion to follow, well because I’m in prison right now. So obviously that couldn’t happen! See, most of us will go through these situations when we get out, with no real understanding of how to navigate through them. Because of the interactions we didn’t have, cut off from naturally socializing, we might almost be like teenagers in the way we struggle with self confidence, reading signs, and unable to properly communicate our emotions, let alone allow ourselves to be vulnerable. Our brains were usually on fight or flight autopilot, we had no time to let our guards down, and every reaction we had, was to read if someone was being genuine, or if someone was trying to handle or hurt us. Everyone else that we knew outside came and went, so questioning intent and preparing for departure kept us unable to just be in the moment and focus, always believing that those around would fade away, I mean why stay and wait for a person stuck in the same spot. A reflection of how we valued ourselves based on the temporariness of others, let alone never feeling heard or understood, yet becoming the greatest listeners which only gave us more situational companions because frankly, no one listens intently these days, so no one listened to them out there, like a person in prison would. Imagine having answers for everyone but yourself yet still, no one having answers for you, where do you turn? So going back into this fast paced world, being able to focus and feel, will be a struggle. See re-offending may depend on our relationships, if we are maintaining good relationships and are successful in reading those intimate and social tell-tell signs, than life will be much easier and we will feel less alien. But if we aren’t successful, then going into our head will just be another prison we enter that may lead us back to this prison. Having to read signs is an unneeded added stress, and unnecessary stress always adds unintended consequences. I am even trapped in my head a lot right now, not being able at times to see myself as more than an inmate. But the difference is that I realize it, so maybe I can combat it, but most of us can’t, being only used to structural and functional relationships. Most of us will get out one day, so where will we find respite, escape, and emotional outlet if not in our relationships? All that to say this, since 50% of Americans know someone in prison, help them with relationship and interactions, venture away from your comfort and stop with the signs assuming that they know because the signs we are used to reading serve to keep us safe, I used to use them for that and to cope and understand the people around me. Yes, I’m asking you to spell it out until we get familiar with the world again, because not being able to adjust and feel apart of something and someone will only accelerate the feeling of alienation and possibly start us back on a downward spiral. We know what and who we were for years in here, don’t forget to help us remember who we were and could be once free again.
Glass Prints
Who would’ve known as a grown man, I’d still be that lost boy fogging the glass with his breath?
Then placing his hand there, leaning back observing that moment of art, as a symbolic thought crosses his mind, wondering…
if he’ll be able to touch the world enough one day to where his print is left behind…
ha!
left behind…
somehow poignantly funny, because being left behind is another thought he felt so akin to-
as his wrist hovered adjacent to the horizontal window PANE
straight across he thought, mirroring the same structure that carved horizontal lines that once broke his resolve and enhanced his curiosity while biting into his wrist-
penetrating that thin line of shallowness he revered as his surface, which he clung so tight to-
because he felt no one could feel his PAIN..
no one but this window PANE
yes, the window did-
for it sees all and stays silent, transparent and non-judging-
the greatest attributes in a best friend
he wondered how could something be so quietly comforting and loyal, yet easily crack and shatter under pressure
showing vulnerability at the first signs of discomfort
innocently divulging a truth of some kind imparted by the force it became victim to-
that force, became measured by shards of glass looking back up at him
and somehow he felt the pain inflicted upon it
a traumatizing act, because when glass is broken, there’s some impossible feeling of guilt and empathy that takes over us
but is that sorrow for the glass, or the broken person he sees in it?
or maybe the ensuing eyes that peer questioningly, overwhelming his consciousness with the torment of perceived judgement
he stands shooken and found out, feeling almost naked so-to-speak
if only for a moment
those pervading voices breech and surround his senses, though it’s all in his mind
often times that man was I..
I, that broke that glass
that broke that one stable friendship and bond that accepted me blindly conditionless and willingly
within its shattered pieces, I saw a man of many different faces
don’t we all?
It’s crazy to think, but selfishly everything serves a purpose, and you know glass never let me down
sometimes it showed me raw truth and reflective bits of myself on the outside looking in,
or at least what I wanted to see
and other times, a distorted or prismed perspective of the world outside of my own unobstructed view-
often given me a sight and thought that I wasn’t able to conceive or digest prior to peering through the eye of that glass
after indulging my pallet and gullet in a foreplay with spirits-the fluidity of that temporary serum it bared within so purposefully, satiated my emptiness
again…everything serves a purpose
yes, glass came in many shapes, it molds to the needs of its environment like me
and it’s our environment we seek most to control or fall in line with,
and the environment of the glass I had in my possession was a control that sometimes gets the better of me
And often as I look through it, peeking through its crystal like specs-
I may not always see my prints, but I know they are there,
for I touched it with such a purpose,
and if only for that moment…at least in my own way, I touched the world,
yes, I touched the WORLD!
and within that connection, that touch, that purpose
something was left behind
my print
because I touched the world
maybe you’ll notice..
Never Asked
He never asked to be your reason
she never asked to be your outcry,
their bodies laying cold on the cement
their bodies sketched by the same outline,
xenophobia, bigotry
religious beliefs, hypocrisy
gender bias, topography beef
racism, tribalism, classism, and hidden hate we speak..tweet!
he was black and he said he can’t breath
he was black and he said don’t shoot me
she was white and she stood up for humankind
she was white and got ran over by her own kind
my religion never told me to hate you
I’m responsible for what I say and do
he went and shot up a church group
in court he was told “we forgive you”
black mayor wins gubernatorial
white counterpart said we shouldn’t ‘monkey’ this up… in a live news interview, a new fuse used, to spew, hate food in internet editorials
they never asked!
but silence is complicit because of America’s conflicted past
Imprisoned prism of a Realist
Realist
The term rings off real sure, but to me it is lacking. Wisdom is knowing that you don’t know enough or everything. One can always inform themselves with other insights and perceptual beliefs. To me a realist is stunted in knowledge and growth, a realist is a trap and/or a bail out word. For example, being a realist, or pragmatic, is simply thinking with all the information in front of you to make a safe yet narrow-minded opinion. Having a felony will follow me around all my life limiting my possibilities. True but not, that is the trapping side, the bail out side of being a realist is that it relieves the responsibility of embracing the metaphysical aspects of life, like love, faith, hope, imagination etc. Two hemispheres in our brain, left and right, you don’t use that left side of your brain when you are a realist, you see things as separate and distinguishable from one another in that they are opposites, one can’t exist at the same time of the other, because opposites contrast instead of compliment. Now there’s no room for paradox and possibility with right brain thinking. The left side is for creativity and abstract continuity, unity and likeness of all things, the right side is for pragmatic and the concrete disposition of things, the separation and opposites so to speak. If you see things as flat as ratios, percentages, facts, numbers and statistics, then naturally you will view people, possibility and chance as such. This type of thinking is so limiting within self and onto others. I become and amount to nothing more than a statistic after a downfall, with only a minute chance of over coming your objective opinion. Being a realist is a virtualistic compromisation and a perceptual scapegoat, why can’t a person view themselves and others beyond the pan of either this or that. No, indeed there is a middle, an in between route, a combining force that is manifested by belief. Eyes can betray us just as the heart and mind can, so seeing doesn’t have to be the end all be all for truly believing, because that isn’t believing, it is surficially or circumstantially knowing of something by its exterior, while neglecting its internal layers. Just think, if all felons decided to be realists, then there’d be no need for hope by changing self if we all conceded to this mass perception of impending doom for all opportunity, rebellion and anarchy would be a constant because what does an animal have to lose once its caged doors are open all the while knowing he will return to captivity soon enough? I was a realist, til I realized I was dying faster that way. Once I began to step back and notice the abstract beauties and metaphysical wonders of and in life, I began to have hope and slowly I began to come alive and started to live again. So I’m no realist, I’m not jaded, I may be taboo and tainted, but I am a hopeful optimistic romantic within my thinking, seeking symmetry and synchronicity with life, not apart from it. But what I wonder is how much more would I be able to accomplish if you thought this way too, because it used to be I, myself that limited my life, but now it could be you. Be a left sided, not lop-sided, thinker, even if you have right wing views, be idealistic and take the time to create your own beliefs, even if seeing things for what they appear to be seems so much more convenient. Take that time and use your mind and choose to see more. Being narrow-minded is a choice, being a separatist is inhumane, and being a realistic is cheap and easy and has no imprint of originality. Facts, I’m a black imprisoned father of two sons with a few violent felonies. In that line, read more than facts and a statistic, and see that there is a person with more depth than the sentence alludes to, but understand that it will take more effort understanding that as fact then accepting the short sentence in itself as truth and all there is to know. What’s a record if it’s broken? What’s statistic if it is defied? What is a ratio if the numbers flip? What is a percentage if it rises or decreases? What is a number if it changes? What is a fact if it is disproved? Make room for possibility, no matter how sensibly impossible it may seem, and see more even when your eyes can’t see it tangibly, at that moment, develop faith, because then you get to enjoy the ride of imagination and hope. We manifest our own destiny by our thought patterns. Be thoughtful and thought provoking, see things for what they appear and then imagine what more they could be, then see that to fruition. You may just find enough room to free me from your narrow sights, just as I have freed myself and others that I come across. Thinking you know it all is not thinking at all, so what more is life if you stop seeking, if you stop believing you have more to learn, if you refuse to see all reflective sides of a prism while only concentrating on the side that faces you? So today, can you start believing an inmate can be more than a number, and that he can conquest, accomplish and create unimpeded by apparent realism? Will only denied the person that ceased to try. We have to change the narratives and connotations, if not simply just recognizing them and their weight, on certain terms and words, and take on deeper meanings so we can establish a sense of self, seeking more in every meaning we reason with. Often we disparage those stuck in physical prisons, while still unaware nor able to free ourselves from our invisible circumstantial and internal prisons which keep us in captivity most of our whole lives. Realistically, there is more to reality than a realist can ever really see, experience is an infinite abundance of realty able to be cohabited once we realize how to perceive and live a real life without unnecessarily imposed limitations. Don’t try to confine that which you can’t comprehend into a small box so you can feel safe. Do more than address, assess in excess for access.
In the Eyes of the Beholder: Mea Culpa
I think what’s lost on people is that ‘guilty’ isn’t the only life changing judgement given to an incarcerated person. It’s not only the added judgement of those whom you don’t know that also is so difficult to tread through, but it is the judgement of those closest to you that really changes your life. Either for the better or for the worse, and often the worse sadly, because those are the opinions and affirmations we look to the most. And so, with that added space of unfamiliarity and judgement, incarceration becomes an added community and family of like struggle, adversity and pain. Because this side of the fence understands the hardships, the hidden scars, the denied emotions and the blocked traumas..simply because it’s all about survival. So we celebrate birthdays, holidays, familial reunions, new found or continued love and outdates! It’s tough to see those you form such a bond with leave, it’s weird to say as a man that you care about other men and have built deep storied intimate bonds, confiding in them your worst, while having those confidences relayed in this concrete jungle of testosterone and longing. I’m happy when I see those I grew to have a love and respect for leave, but it takes something out of you every time that you don’t know how to explain let alone refill. You don’t know how to talk about it, so we just go on, feeling that pang of loss and comfort leaving us once again. Just recently, a person left that has made such an intangible impact on my life in a short span of time and it’s hurt in a way I can’t describe. I have known of this person most of my bid but because of who they were, I never interacted with them until lately, which seemed almost a fateful encounter. I know it feels like I lost out on so much, and I only wonder how much more could I have gained from them had I not kept distance from them because of those prejudices, stereotypes and judgements that rule this side of the fence also. Effect, impact..are intangibles, they can’t be measured and come around boundlessly. Titles and identifications that create divides like gay, trans, different gangs, different colors, convicts etc shouldn’t be the decider of the core of a person and the possible influence they can have on you for the better. Let me speak in plain terms..I have lesbian aunts and cousins, a transgender brother and yet I question my manhood when it comes to speaking to those I’d title as such that aren’t family. I’ve always said titles don’t matter, it’s what’s beneath that shows the person, well someone of that ilk also challenged my hypocrisy and put my words to the test. Where am I going with this? I made a gay friend, no, I made a guy friend that even now I feel self conscious about but I hope to be his friend for years to come, because he not only taught me so much, but beneath it all he may be one of the greatest spirits I’ve ever met..save of course my best friend Katie! Nobody beating that, let’s get real folks! She brought the world YoungR.U.S.S. WayOfLife and Proseofacon! Hopefully I can continue earning his friendship ridding myself of my personal phobias, because he even kept his word once he got free, checked out my page and showed his support and he could be just focusing on freedom that he just acquired 72hrs prior. Me, being who I used to be holding one on one dialogues with him feeling like I had the eyes of the whole prison on me within the unit was maybe more mentally a struggle than any fight, war, riot, or hole stint i’ve experienced..that says a lot about shallow perceptions and how they rule us. I felt like I needed to come up with a reason if anyone ever asked, and he got it and respected it without taking offense, but in those moments I felt bad and I envied him, because I thought I had finally gained my freedom of self without care of opinion but I really hadn’t, but he does and THAT in itself was a lesson and so motivating empowering and revealing. A friend revered, hugged him one day and I was like I wish I could do that. I give it to some others comfortably, that same friend shared sentiments with me after his departure, I never knew they were also that platonically close, I was blind. I eventually shared a hug. Not all lessons come in words, most come in acts, and he embodied compassion, faith, understanding, respect and freedom of identity. I guess I still have awhile to go to find myself or to be comfortable with how I feel. The eyes of the world may see and judge me while in here and once out, because even some closest to me only see what they are lazy enough to see. In some eyes we will also be everything but who we are, but in our own eyes, we need to be confident in who we know that we have become and striving to be, no matter what people say or think, and the rest will take care of itself. I’m still bettering myself everyday, join me, I like to act as if I am ready to be free and have it all figured out but I keep finding things to work on, I’m just like you, an unfinished masterpiece. I can be a better father, friend, son, brother, and person, but im trending All The Way Up #facts Thank you Nikko!
Visit Day!
I was somebody capable of being loved before I became inmate, walk down this love lane-guage with me , as I speak to you about falling…or re-falling in love as an inmate. Its not the same as prison love, I’ll explain that concept another day, but right now let me tell you about a date I have. Yes, we can have dates in prison, we aren’t primitive! So this person is great. They are young imaginative passionate talented energetic vibrant athletic smart innocent kind of rough around the edges and high maintenance but that strong will and mind only breeds their pure love. They kinda remind me of myself, I guess its why I love them so much. Yes I said love, again I’m in prison, I’m not primitive! Sheesh! But its real love, biological in depth so to speak, cosmic and purposeful. Nothing in the world could have stopped this love from blossoming and us two finally meeting, let alone inhabiting this planet at the same time, it was meant to be I guess is what I’m getting at. I’m nervous, because they only know me over phone calls, letters, and videos…what if in person I’m not liked as much? Things can always be awkward and either be for the better or worse when you finally meet. Today will be the decider of that fate I guess. When I first heard them get all bashful and happy but also nervous when speaking of finally coming to see me, it warmed my heart and calmed my nerves a bit. I haven’t dealt with much outside of this prison life when it comes to meeting people on the outside, I’ve been locked up the whole time we’ve known of each other. Ah! And what about the first hug and kiss?! I’ve ironed my clothes, but I sprained my ankle playing football yesterday so I’ve been healing it because first impressions are lasting and I don’t want them to see me in a weakened state, so I’ve iced my ankle and kept it elevated and rotating it all night! Forcing myself to walk straight and strong through this pain all morning. I stayed away from working out and people so I couldn’t get any surprise sicknesses or injuries and that is exactly what happened when I played our game, oh well, nothing planned stays perfect. But the day is finally here, you all don’t know what I’ve been through to get to this day. The sacrifices I’ve made, the trauma I’ve fought, the ways I had to adapt and evolve in order to survive this land of violence and misery. I used to wonder if this day would ever happen, let alone if I’d get out in tact to be with them. I’ve protected my life an few times with them on my mind, willing myself to not be beaten, and on the other end willing myself to not give in to venting my frustration violently and staying positive, so I couldn’t ruin this fateful reunion. I’ve been scared through it all I admit, but not a coward, I embrace my own actions and reactions. Now I write to an audience and can share this great moment with you, I’m not polyamorous or unfaithful, but there’s two loves I want to meet, these loves you embrace and don’t appraise one over the other, but I can only have one for now and this isn’t settling so I’m just as enthused, because everything comes within time. I’ve seated on both of them with this time away but I’m paying that forward, my mission is my penance so to speak. So here we go, two hours away,..I will fill yaw in on how it went, maybe I’ll tell you who it is also..
ahh! and here we are, I hate cliff hangers…on the edge of my bed during lockdown for count and it is approx 53 minutes til visits start. A million things flying through my head, but mostly hoping for no difficulties with the staff that may ruin the visit…anything but that!
Well of course there were problems but I won’t dampen the mood speaking of those details, I also won’t kiss and tell, maybe details for another day, but all I can say is that long lost and long distance love is all its cracked up to be! We were just perfectly meshed…I guess I’ll let you in on their name…Treyvan, it was my youngest son! The best day I had in over half a decade!
The way we talked laughed cuddled fought joked and danced, oh I swear he can really dance! The saddest part was seeing his heavy head clutching onto the pics we took together as it was time to go, it went from not thinking I’d see him, to not believing he’d stay the whole time, to him not wanting to leave me. Every good love story has tears at the ending, I shed one I admit, but to see the crowd of people waiting to see the pics and hear about my time with him was a beautiful show of community love here in prison! And to my bro Nate, thanks for taking the time and sharing that moment with me.
Nothing else mattered every second I held him, those moments I wasn’t a felon or a inmate anymore, I was a father with a son that met him for the firs time and loved him without conditions. I guess that’s the picture often forgotten when all you know and see in someone is the display of them in their worst moment latched with a title and cause, while presented with a number and a facial photo crop. Today, I was a person again, and a child will never let you forget what real love feels like before we get older and jaded by opinions prejudices statistics stereotypes having to qualify love instead of quantifying it. Everything I’ve been through to get to this day, has paid off and was worth it. Today, his mother showed me the depth of forgiveness and parenting for the good of a child not self, the way she went out of her way is more than I can ask, everything takes time, she’s not late, she did it exactly when it needed to be done and that’s when she felt ready and comfortable, so thank you Liss. This isn’t to shame any of you out there that may hesitate bringing your child into a prison, comfortability isn’t manifested overnight, but just know that the effort, whatever that effort is, is what really counts. So, uh, it may take time but I’m willing to make this work, so whenever he’s ready, I’m up for a second date, love at first sight just isn’t so cliché as I thought!