She is Broken
Like jewels shattered into pieces
Not as sweet as Reese's Pieces
More bitter than chocolate that's 100% pure
Potent is a great descriptor
As I shower in her wisdom
Untold stories
That are nightmares turned to life
A sharp pain in the night
As you step on broken pieces
Trying to pick up all the pieces
To put pieces back again
But it forms a different picture
Not the same
And not too different
Like a mistranslated scripture
That's its own type of sin
Cracks can be refilled
But the fractures can't be mended
But we can always be rebuilt
So if she falls I'll build again
But I'd rather not rebuild
So I'll try not to drop the ball
And to minimize her falls
With a stable resting place
Yet I am haunted by my conscience
And the simple fact that I
Cannot be there to catch her
When she falls every time.
Perspective on the Poem:
I wrote this poem during one of my hardest weeks at the prison. One of my favorite ladies there attempted suicide. It taught me a very valuable lesson than anyone who works in ministry should learn, people are not objects and you can't fix them. This incident really broke my heart. I held in my emotions as best I could all day and when I got home that night, I broke down and cried like a baby. Only after a heart to heart with my coworker did I come to truly realize that the amount of love and effort you put into a person is not the only determining factor in their lives and sometimes, sadly, you are not enough.
Monday, December 29, 2014
Hush! He's calling
Hush! Hush!
Somebody's calling my name . . .
Not a hymn she's singing
But an urge she's feeling
Forever whispering to her soul
Brain chemistry altered
Shaking sins with her son
Deadlier than the Seven
Slippery like the Serpent
Reaching out from the Dark
Grasping on to her, tightening its grip
Recovery is like walking up a mountain
On eggshells
With a monkey on her back
Slippery Slope on a conveyor belt
Possibly impossible . . . BUT
FOR I KNOW THE PLANS I HAVE FOR YOU SAITH THE LORD
HIS PLAN can crush those mountains
HIS PLAN can loosen that grip
HIS PLAN can overcome chemistry
HE CAN smash the Serpent's head
Hush! Hush! Somebody's calling your name.
Perspective on the Poem:
I wrote this after talking to a prisoner about her crack addiction. The prison gave her no type of program, residency,or rehab. They are just going to let her back on the street, with no new knowledge of how to battle her addiction and not land herself back in Prison. We are setting people up for failure and it is heart breaking.
Somebody's calling my name . . .
Not a hymn she's singing
But an urge she's feeling
Forever whispering to her soul
Brain chemistry altered
Shaking sins with her son
Deadlier than the Seven
Slippery like the Serpent
Reaching out from the Dark
Grasping on to her, tightening its grip
Recovery is like walking up a mountain
On eggshells
With a monkey on her back
Slippery Slope on a conveyor belt
Possibly impossible . . . BUT
FOR I KNOW THE PLANS I HAVE FOR YOU SAITH THE LORD
HIS PLAN can crush those mountains
HIS PLAN can loosen that grip
HIS PLAN can overcome chemistry
HE CAN smash the Serpent's head
Hush! Hush! Somebody's calling your name.
Perspective on the Poem:
I wrote this after talking to a prisoner about her crack addiction. The prison gave her no type of program, residency,or rehab. They are just going to let her back on the street, with no new knowledge of how to battle her addiction and not land herself back in Prison. We are setting people up for failure and it is heart breaking.
The System
Justice has compassion
But not our Justice System
Prison for Profit
Turns citizens to victims
Hand of one, Hand of all
Unconscious criminal acts
Some did it
Some didn't
Some were caught in a trap
Like pigs in a pen
They eat slop on a plate
No love, No kindness
The only power's in Hate
America the Beautiful
Broken stones beneath it
Crumbling standard of Justice
Or is it really Just Us?
Perspective on the Poem:
This poem explore the vagueness and gray areas of our laws and the barely humane conditions of our prisons.
Flip The Switch
Flip the switch
Snuff a life
Succumb to darkness
Put out the light
What is a life worth?
In this shattered system
Not much,
If within these walls
We bring death inward
Eye for an Eye
Leaves us blind in love
Young in Faith
No teeth to chew scripture
No minds to see straight
If God loves us all
Can we take that from another?
Life is more than their crimes
We've all made unpleasant choices
So what's the going rate
For a mistake or two or three?
Loss of life is worth LIFE
Do you see the irony?
Life is worth life
Death can equal death
Redemption equals nothing
That part is for yourself
But in the bare truth of life
In her certain circumstances
Her life is almost up
She is at her last standing
Flip the switch
Snuff a life
What is a life worth?
Well in OUR Justice System
They don't ransom it for much.
Perspective on the Poem:
I wrote this after hearing from my supervisor about a women on Death Row, who has exhausted all her legal procedures and now awaits death. It jarred me, because after working in the Prison system, you start to see the cracks. It begs the question: Do we ever really know certainly enough of someones innocence or guilt, that we can justifiably take their life away? And if we execute people, are we short changing GOD of His opportunity to save them?
Snuff a life
Succumb to darkness
Put out the light
What is a life worth?
In this shattered system
Not much,
If within these walls
We bring death inward
Eye for an Eye
Leaves us blind in love
Young in Faith
No teeth to chew scripture
No minds to see straight
If God loves us all
Can we take that from another?
Life is more than their crimes
We've all made unpleasant choices
So what's the going rate
For a mistake or two or three?
Loss of life is worth LIFE
Do you see the irony?
Life is worth life
Death can equal death
Redemption equals nothing
That part is for yourself
But in the bare truth of life
In her certain circumstances
Her life is almost up
She is at her last standing
Flip the switch
Snuff a life
What is a life worth?
Well in OUR Justice System
They don't ransom it for much.
Perspective on the Poem:
I wrote this after hearing from my supervisor about a women on Death Row, who has exhausted all her legal procedures and now awaits death. It jarred me, because after working in the Prison system, you start to see the cracks. It begs the question: Do we ever really know certainly enough of someones innocence or guilt, that we can justifiably take their life away? And if we execute people, are we short changing GOD of His opportunity to save them?
Monday, October 13, 2014
Sister
I saw my sister today
On the 3rd floor of a prison
Caged in for all the world to see
She didn't recognize me
But I saw her
Ticking through time
Piecing together the puzzle
Puzzled at her circumstances
Pacing and Walking and Talking and Living
If living's what you call it
Oh, it tore my soul apart
Stomped my heart to pieces
Drained me dry and left me hanging
Yep, I saw my sister today
Perspective on the Poem: This poem was written after I saw the Juvenile range at the prison I work at. Of all the things I have seen in that prison, this was the only thing that brought me to the brink of tears. I have a sister the age of one of girls in that wing and tore me apart to see them locked up the way they are. Since they are minors, they are separated from the rest of the general population by law, so they only get to speak to each other ( there's only 3 or 4 of them), their teacher and the guards.
On the 3rd floor of a prison
Caged in for all the world to see
She didn't recognize me
But I saw her
Ticking through time
Piecing together the puzzle
Puzzled at her circumstances
Pacing and Walking and Talking and Living
If living's what you call it
Oh, it tore my soul apart
Stomped my heart to pieces
Drained me dry and left me hanging
Yep, I saw my sister today
Perspective on the Poem: This poem was written after I saw the Juvenile range at the prison I work at. Of all the things I have seen in that prison, this was the only thing that brought me to the brink of tears. I have a sister the age of one of girls in that wing and tore me apart to see them locked up the way they are. Since they are minors, they are separated from the rest of the general population by law, so they only get to speak to each other ( there's only 3 or 4 of them), their teacher and the guards.
No One Deserves to Be Murdered
So I asked
Did the people you killed deserve it ?
Her reply . . .
"No one deserves to be murdered"
"The stone of violence ripples to the shore and affects everybody"
A hint of empathy through stone/
Like a rose through concrete
Empathy but not remorse
Reflection not regret
Her murders were her Art
And she could regret her masterpiece
Bloodstained bodies torn by violence
Her canvas to kill a man
Her one great secret is the number in her head
Dangerous , Predator
Person, Human
Akin to Cain
The darker side of God's Image
Perspective on the Poem: This inmate challenges me intellectually every time I speak with her. She reminds me that people are complicated and that no person is just one thing. She may be a murdered and she may be serving a life sentence but she is still a human, a person and as much as we may not like to admit it, she too is made in God's image. The parts in quotations are her words exactly as they came from her mouth, I asked her permission to quote her.
Did the people you killed deserve it ?
Her reply . . .
"No one deserves to be murdered"
"The stone of violence ripples to the shore and affects everybody"
A hint of empathy through stone/
Like a rose through concrete
Empathy but not remorse
Reflection not regret
Her murders were her Art
And she could regret her masterpiece
Bloodstained bodies torn by violence
Her canvas to kill a man
Her one great secret is the number in her head
Dangerous , Predator
Person, Human
Akin to Cain
The darker side of God's Image
Perspective on the Poem: This inmate challenges me intellectually every time I speak with her. She reminds me that people are complicated and that no person is just one thing. She may be a murdered and she may be serving a life sentence but she is still a human, a person and as much as we may not like to admit it, she too is made in God's image. The parts in quotations are her words exactly as they came from her mouth, I asked her permission to quote her.
Lost It
She' lost it
And I don't even know if she cares to look for it
Or where to look if she got the urge
Seek and Ye shall find they say
But her search is filled by clutter
Questions and more Questions
Tempered by a flood of uselessness
Pathetic answers attempting to dampen a fire filled soul
Anger intended to intimidate
Failing at her feet
MONSTER
That's what we would call her
Labeling her indiscretions as malicious
Heinous crimes
Arms filled with signs of self mutilation
Sitting adjacent Angels and Death
As they flip the pages of this open book
Perspective on the Poem:
This poem along with others are inspired by interactions with one of my favorite women at the prison. She always spikes my interest because her crimes would lead most to think that she is un-empathetic and a monster. I find, that she is just a person, who seen so much dark in the world, that she has a hard time believing that light exists anymore.
And I don't even know if she cares to look for it
Or where to look if she got the urge
Seek and Ye shall find they say
But her search is filled by clutter
Questions and more Questions
Tempered by a flood of uselessness
Pathetic answers attempting to dampen a fire filled soul
Anger intended to intimidate
Failing at her feet
MONSTER
That's what we would call her
Labeling her indiscretions as malicious
Heinous crimes
Arms filled with signs of self mutilation
Sitting adjacent Angels and Death
As they flip the pages of this open book
Perspective on the Poem:
This poem along with others are inspired by interactions with one of my favorite women at the prison. She always spikes my interest because her crimes would lead most to think that she is un-empathetic and a monster. I find, that she is just a person, who seen so much dark in the world, that she has a hard time believing that light exists anymore.
Sunday, October 5, 2014
Freedom
They had face-paint and popcorn and cotton candy
They even had their kids
But of all the things they had this day
What they did not have was freedom.
Perspective on the Poem:
This was inspired by a fall festival even at the prison where I intern as a Chaplain a few hours a week. The atmosphere was so beautiful. Watching the women with their kids, seeing the kids play with their parents and each other. It was amazing to see that so many families were still intact despite the lady's prison sentences. And then as I left the prison and walked out of the security gates, it struck me: At this moment these women probable have everything they truly want; except freedom.
They even had their kids
But of all the things they had this day
What they did not have was freedom.
Perspective on the Poem:
This was inspired by a fall festival even at the prison where I intern as a Chaplain a few hours a week. The atmosphere was so beautiful. Watching the women with their kids, seeing the kids play with their parents and each other. It was amazing to see that so many families were still intact despite the lady's prison sentences. And then as I left the prison and walked out of the security gates, it struck me: At this moment these women probable have everything they truly want; except freedom.
Broken Picture/ Shattered Image
Broken picture
Shattered image
She can see the light
But can she see her life in it?
Bad luck
Good luck
Could have had a life sentence
Little architects and engineers in her image
Working mom
Working hard
American dream
Had a job and a car
Maybe worked a little too hard
Life shattered in the night
Like the windows in the car
Meant well
Did bad
10 years behind bars.
Perspective on the Poem:
This poem was written after a conversation with an inmate who was only 27 years old. Her case inspired me to write because it gave me a certain sense of frustration with our prison system. This lady was a full time mother, working a full time job, while attending school full time at a University. One night on her way to work, she fell asleep and crashed into a car, killing two people. I was frustrated because she her crime had no malice. Even the victims families didn't want her to go to prison because they understood it was an accident, one that could happen to any one of us. Still the prosecutor slammed her with a ten year sentence.
Shattered image
She can see the light
But can she see her life in it?
Bad luck
Good luck
Could have had a life sentence
Little architects and engineers in her image
Working mom
Working hard
American dream
Had a job and a car
Maybe worked a little too hard
Life shattered in the night
Like the windows in the car
Meant well
Did bad
10 years behind bars.
Perspective on the Poem:
This poem was written after a conversation with an inmate who was only 27 years old. Her case inspired me to write because it gave me a certain sense of frustration with our prison system. This lady was a full time mother, working a full time job, while attending school full time at a University. One night on her way to work, she fell asleep and crashed into a car, killing two people. I was frustrated because she her crime had no malice. Even the victims families didn't want her to go to prison because they understood it was an accident, one that could happen to any one of us. Still the prosecutor slammed her with a ten year sentence.
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