We have to wake the hell up! We have to get involved and get out of our own ways and our own problems and start seeing that there are people out there, right where you live, or down the street, or the next town around, or that you drive by on the street, or at your job, school or church, that are really suffering. People who really need a break, people who really have no idea how to help themselves, let alone, how to seek help for themselves. People that lack the know how, the community resources and support-both familial and societal, to be able to lift themselves from the human conditions of struggle and suffering.
We all struggle, but not all suffer. But I ask, why is it so many that suffer, still have a big enough heart to help most and offer their last? Because THEY, understand the depths of suffering. Their selflessness confuses most people, the reason is because people are so self absorbed and selfish. What do we get out of life just helping ourselves, and doing just enough, yet nothing more when it comes to helping our neighbors to better our world, that we, our kids, and future generations will inhabit?
We are in a crisis of humanity! Because we are rapidly LOSING our Human Unity-humanity! When we just toss money blindly into causes or people hands that need, its a good gesture, but its not enough! Action! Action is what is required, following up, informing, researching and then giving with a Purpose, not just as an act of temporary kindness to feel better about yourself. News flash, that problem you toss money at for a moment, will still be ailing tomorrow! Money isn’t magic, involvement is. I’ve seen people so lost in life that they ran to prison, they aren’t here because they are bad, but because they have been neglected, and are lost, and scared, and don’t know what to do or where to go, and fear death enough to not kill themselves.
I’ve seen people too scared of freedom that they mess up on purpose in order to stay in prison longer, or they get in trouble once out so they can come back. They lack help, they lack resources, they lack Love! That’s what the world is lacking in, you can’t understand without Empathy, and you can’t Empathize without Love!
Love can go so far and do so much for so many or…for just one. Just. One. It’s a fight, it isn’t easy, you will be uncomfortable, you will feel guilt and shame, but you WILL make an impact. That impact is a wave of energy that reciprocates into a force where people pass on the love and care that was given to them.
I saw this guy fresh out of prison on the street with a plastic bowl hoping for change, and he hadnt eaten since the previous day, but he saw a man about ready to get a parking ticket from the meter, so he put his coins in the meter…little did he know he was being watched on a prank show. But what shocked the pranksters was this black man’s genuine heart to give his last, stating that he knows how bad luck feels and he hadn’t had much luck or support, but he just wanted to help, and that it was just coins….JUST COINS! The prank dude started to cry and gave him all the money in his pocket, the guy was shocked and hesitant, never having that much money given to him by anyone in his life..he was rewarded by giving his last when he had Nothing. Just Coins. Yet so many that have much to offer rather speak of how much they lack or need. Perspective folks!
Someone is somewhere doing worse than you…but does that matter? Really?! Then what are you going to do about it?..For real though, what? Or will that be put off for the next new “stress or priority” that you have to deal with first? The essential nature of activism is taking action, fighting for people whom can’t fight for themselves within a world and system that bullies the weak and less fortunate. Taking action, that’s all that is required. Getting involved. Informing yourself. Empathy. Empathy is the autonomous engine that will spur on Action, because Empathy feels deeply and shares that suffering, then unitedly works to find relief. Struggle and Suffering are the loudest instruments ever played, until Love comes around and deafens them both with its pure pitch and cadence.
So many people make such a big fuss over the word sacrifice, but what truly is sacrifice if all and what you valued has no real value at all with all things considered. If we simply place value on and desire the material things that will only decay, then we will become just like our values and desires, and decay along with them. All sacrifice is, is loving even when you’re hurt, providing strength even when you feel weak, healing others even while being wounded yourself, standing for those that can’t get back up yet, speaking for those that don’t know the words, finding those that are lost and letting them know that you may not have all the answers, but you get it and you are in it with them.
Yea, hearing it out loud, sacrifice sounds like a lot, but a life is just one. I guess it comes down to how many things you want to do with this one life. One thing great, or many things good, with many lives changed, by your One life. All it takes is One. If you been snoozing, just Wake up, see the world, and then fight to stay Woke. Or, stay sleep, living lifeless blind and empty. Every choice is free, but not every mind that makes the choice is. So what are you? I know I’m in prison, but that’s a structure not an identity. Connections, not all have them, so get connected within your community or in others.
There is no community without connection, there is no society without communication, and there is no humanity nor culture without commonalities. We can make a difference by making up the distance, not making more distance and keep most distant. Suffering can be saved, that’s the good in it, because there’s good in all, even and especially, in you, And the weak. Our worst speaks, even when we are silent-Prose of a Con, but there is a good in every bad-Pros of a Con
Get Active, Get Activate
Mercy
Black Matters
My Black skin
matter of fact
My Black Hyde!
thick!
like a
shield
force field
coat
cloaked
chain mill
armor
piercing like an archer
distilled in ardor
with history written within like an author
but art thou, both art and artist?
but I’ve been arsoned
parsed
partitioned
departed
though I sheen like Black diamonds in apartheid
and I may part tides
but still,
I’m seen as ape-parts
torn a-part
born in a-partments
enslaved in com-partments
caged in de-partments
arms raised, to say I’m not armed, until you see arm pits
because me-target
if you wanna see, how deep heart gets
don’t read deepak,
reincarnate of tupac
when you listen to me speak, I heat, then refreeze, thee arctic
I may get views yet viewed, as a beast or the least, to say the least
no figure of speech,
I WAS as a figurine, and they tried to figure me, by trying to figure my speech
yet My speech, can reach thee farthest
and still teach thee smartest
energy in my being, being anything, but lee-thargic!
although I still may be seen as low as thee carpet
how many times will I contort and conform til they see arm twist?
but no more
seeing me as a marred nomad of no matter!
because I,
yes I,
matter!
so I lather
this face,
this real, true, resilient, strong and thorough ‘unpainted’ black face,
in the reality of my Own truth
not historic traumas and modernized ways of saying “I Own you”
Man, in the mirror
no!
Black Man, in the mirror
my vows are
I.Owe.yoU
because you’ve been either alien or alias aligned with ‘all lies’
not allies
deceiving your Own eyes
but you are no more a marred nomad of no matter
because now,
I.Know.You!
Black, isn’t a name for separation
Black, is more than debates of reparations
Black, is more than being politicized with every new administration
Black, once integrated, shouldn’t instigate, instant hatred!
amidst imitations
sullied, by Black face
but this, Black Face, is not pixeled, made up, painted, nor stenciled, but pigmented beauty,
on this
Black Man
Black Master
Black Mosaic
Black Knight
Black King
Black Artist
Black Art
Black Painting
Black Poet
Not
a Black mystery
nor
Black misery
and more than just
Black matter
so Black Man in the mirror,
just remember-
That Black skin,
Your Black hyde
because
Black,
matters!
even when the moment you are born becoming a statistic,
Black matters
even when you’re shaded with stereotypical characteristics,
Black matters
even when parts of your history and past is too hard to revisit,
Black matters
even when you feel like a misfit,
and while being a misfit,
reports say you still fit the description, conviction!
Black matters
even when your name becomes embroidered in digits,
Black matters
you are the only one that needs convincing,
then it will convince them
so never look in the mirror and ask ‘who is it’
because Black man,
you matter!
I’m back!
|
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Here I am world!!! I’m back!! Wooooo! Just received my new tablet after this long ass dragged out Month without my baby (prison tears) but now things are back to normal. I feel like I swallowed a pack of Skittles, Merlot, and Red Bull! Feeling the options, the dapper and the energy! So what am I going to write about now? I don’t know because there’s been a lot on my mind, first off, shout out to my “prison wives” homegirls! Hope all is swell well! Shout out to everyone that don’t have a life like me, get up and do something! Shout out to my long lost brother, he just showed up on my jpay this morning! The jpay has room for anyone else that wants to email me too, yea I sure don’t get bored and lonely in prison…NOOOOOTTTTT! Shout out to my son’s moms, they still doing a great job, way better than me right, oh and of course MY TWO BOYS JOSIAH AND TREYVAN! I’ve never known anything more beautiful and saucy! Shout out Lauren From Givabeat for seeing to it that I still keep writing by making sure I got a new tablet! Swag!! Not enough big hearts out there but Good thing I have the best ones on my team! Which brings me to the best BAB Deuce Deuce KATIE, You are every bit of inspiration as you are friend and family! Speaking of family, remember that life, happiness, success and love requires a team effort, we can’t all do it on our lonesome. “Coming together is a beginning, keeping together is progress, and working together is success” and OG MLK Jr said “change doesn’t happen on the wheels of inevitability, but through consistent struggle” embrace the struggle yaw, the hardships, the pains and let downs, the break ups and rejection, the distance and the discomfort it brings. Lastly before I leave, the posts about to be more live, so show some love and gravity if it pulls you, spend a few minutes with me and read on and share but if not, I leave you with this, so listen world, “if you live for compliments, you’ll die by criticism” I’ll break a leg before you break my spirit |
What’s the end goal of incarceration?
What is the end goal of incarceration? what does the public expect the inmates to be once they come back into society? The real answer, not the clean cut formal department of justice answer, because that’s just pie in the sky salesman speak. I mean what do expect a child to do if you send them into timeout for being bad, but offer no instruction nor attempt to figure out what it is within them that causes them to do those things. Do you expect change, without correcting the problem? Adults don’t need to be told the why’s but their why’s need to be understood in order to have any hopes of an improved mindframe. You don’t send a child to timeout and surround them with temptation and the things that will only serve to make them worse, you structure their punishments in order to condition a better response and behavioral change. So how do you expect an adult to change when they may come from dysfunction, and you enhance those dysfunctions by throwing them into the center of even more dysfunctional people with no real requisite or structure of betterment. How can you speak to a person that only understands and knows struggle and pain and the worst sides of life, like betrayals of love, abandonment of family, alienation of friends, no problem solving, venting with dependencies, drugs, murder, abuse of all sorts and with no real identity and a constantly changing environment that surrounds them and clouds them with neglect and a society that offers them no respect, honor or family that gangs offer yet casting them out showing only fear, denigration and disrespect with every effort to say they are lesser while providing unrealistic expectations of achievement as if it is mutually inclusive and possible regardless the conditions they developed within. How can you say you understand if you offer opinion first before an ear, if you compare your experience to mine as if you overcame despite it all. How can a person know how to forgive when all they know is blame and revenge, when society hides their truth and hands down their responsibility on everything and everyone else but themselves yet you say I should come out better and fully functioning, knowing better and cherishing what I had yet prison shows the bare naked truth of society. Separation, segregation, prejudice, racism, lies, denial, depravity, alienation, classism, judgement, unforgiving, violent, anger, fear, escapism, loneliness, abandonment, addiction need I go on, because my closet is doorless and yours is vaulted now all of a sudden since I’m in this obvious prison and you hide within your prison you act as if you can speak down to me, as if I owe you something, as if I’m so unrepairable and my sin is so much grander than yours while your precious freedom makes money off my misery, offering me false hope. The best kept secret is that I am constitutionally a legal slave and you expect me to come out without trauma and be grateful? I was raised s a state ward, with an imprisoned mother battling depression alienation addiction and a father killed by her hand while pregnant with me because of his drunken abusive episode which I never found out til damn near 18. How do you speak to that person, how do you get through to them when all you see them as and throw them in is shit? I speak to that type everyday, because I am in that shit with them, these same people that could’ve killed me not because they hate me but because hate is all they know and society tells them its their fault, so fuck it right?! When they call out and hear of a close death, a cheating girlfriend, maybe she left, or likes her power in the phone, family distant and friends are a matter of convenience but yet society says don’t come back broken because you know better, we gave you a chance to heal and find yourself even though everyone outside lives as strangers trapped within their own prisons. I’ve offered my voice to friends with heartbreaks, addiction issues, suicidal thoughts, loneliness, health struggles, relationship problems, in need of life advice and an ear because I m going through it too, so I know it, I identify, I feel them and I I’m that ear daily for the worst people society casted out, real killers and molesters. I have answers for everyone but myself and two sons that barely know my voice, their mothers holding onto past pains, my siblings growing through life on their own, and a mom transitioning from prison, but who talks to me, what do u tell me that I haven’t told the mirror already, I get more judgment than help, we all do..I heard it all so just in case you didn’t know what its like, this is a fraction of what I embrace willingly daily
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!
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