there are metal detectors here
searching for lost and unseen treasures
the correctional officers get excited
and go hunting for the rewards
so they take their wands and seek
they should be disappointed when they find prison treasure
because it isn’t the same treasure you seek out in society
but they get excited when they find knives
because then they can punish
though they enforce in the guise of being able to protect
the sad thing is
it’s that many knives around to where the magic wand treasure hunters are needed…
Inside
Bugs Bunny
there’s this bunny
the bunny visits me
outside of my window every night
I haven’t seen anyone for so long
maybe the bunny can sense that
the ears erect as I call out a name
the name is “Bugs”
after my now second favorite “wascaly” bunny rabbit-
“Bugs Bunny”
I throw food for him
so he can eat for his travels
that way we both win
maybe the payment makes him less of a friend
but not to me
because in here, you pay for what you want
and I want, no, need, a friend
so nothing is beneath me acquiring my desire
nor too high a price to pay when you feel alone
words aren’t need
I feel joy just watching his curiosity and freeness
what peace he must know
and the irony of it basked within the confines of my imprisonment
but Bugs is my friend-
though we respect each other’s social distance
he doesn’t know me as a prisoner
he just sees me
he understands that I am there
but not why I am
though he is comfortable enough to lower his head and ears from erect
as he dozes off, and then straightens to clean himself
before bouncing off towards jack-
his other friend that accompanies us every so often,
he’s more adventurous,
never staying in one place for too long-
but all the other nuances between I and bugs,
get lost in the soundless,
and formless air between us two
friendship is mechanics
a formality of prolonged company
more a necessary social function of survival
emotions are more a construct of combined experiences
he, on one side of the window
and I, on the other
but both at the same place, sharing this world
despite our barriers
we do not need any more than what we have
contentment-
aligning our cordial connection observance and reverence of one another
expectations bear consequences of let downs
besides, Bugs and I, are content as we are
and with who we are
’til tomorrow night Bugs!
bring Jack if he’s around!
though his moments are more fleeting,
but cherished never the less
Less than Self-less
I’m not myself
I am not ‘my’ self
I am another self-
an ‘other’ self
I do not know if I had a self I owned
is anything ever truly yours in this life?
self-autonomy, sovereignty, and proprietor
all just exaggerated synonyms of independence
but I feel like someone else
a different self
a self that is not necessarily mine
but also, not not mine
just a self unidentified
or a self that surfaces opportunely when care is lost,
and control is forfeited
an emotionally uninhibited self
that sways like the rough winds at sea
to the rhythm of dark energies
and the eery orchestra of vocal frequencies projecting from my mind summoned by the immediate environment that has plagued my peace
clinging to it like moss foresting the century’s sunken titanic
or barnacles upon my White Whale of Serenity
in other words
I’m acting outside of my self
and have given into the causation of the conditions imposed upon me
resistance is futile
as for now,
I hate
I anger
I hurt
I pain
I rage
I slump
I tire
I give, in-side out of me-no more
These Doors Haunt Me
prison is so. damn. traumatizing!
I mean the sounds are so blunt, sharp, and sudden
booming sounds that echo like a taunting monstrous chuckle
it’s like when they made the door locks, some genius said
let’s make the locking and unlocking mechanism sound like
a high powered rifle, handgun, or canon
being loaded, cocked, and shooting or blasting off!
boom! bang! click! clack! pop! squeeeeaakkk!
the sudden and blunt sounds make me jump inside,
I hate it with a passion!
then being in a unit condensed in such a way that all the sound effects are amplified
ricocheting off the walls,
catching all the thunderous loud laughter, chatter, and music and reverberating it back at you like a punch in the face
I can’t nap
can hardly hear the phone
and I’m so fucking edgy that…ahhhh,Bang!
(door closed)
What Type of Time You On?!
this is the dark, where they hide light
protect your heart, hind, and blindside
because war is the highlight
your ceiling is a twilight
and your floor is full of blind mice
there is no fistfights, only knife fights
fight for your life fights
before you can fight for your rights,
you have to fight for your likes,
for the end of each night,
where you can die or take life flights
you ride like a knight, align sides-
comprised with your might-
to describe and define size
ties cosign time
pied pipe, and lies lobotomize,
dried eyes, cries will compromise life
you can’t hide, only disguise and rise like-
climbed heights,
time in the limelight, will assign hype
and pay with your life, because life is the right price
because this time, is the ride or you die type
In My Void
in my void,
I created you,
in my absence
I re-created my void
and now that void is in you
that void, is you
I often wonder
what did my creation create?
I created you
I created a void between us
now what has been created because of it all?
because of me?
and will it die, so something more can be unearthed?
or can it grow and mature into something of worth?
or is it just me that will always make it worse?
because I’m not only the father of your birth,
but also the father of your first hurt