Take heed - trouble coming

When I get out!
By Standing Deer, AKA Robert Hugh Wilson, a 65 year old Choctaw Indian who has been incarcerated for 21 years
When I get out, the first thing I am gonna do is get me a gun to protect myself from the police.
Probably more than one gun because there are so many different kinds of police.
Maybe a .460 Weatherby with a twelve power scope for kings, dictators, presidents and Popes
A .357 magnum for law enforcement officials in general and a nice nine millimeter Browning High Power for just plain folks like you.

When I get out I want to kill as many people as I can before they get me.
I'd like to get the Queen Mother and the Pope and the president if I have the time
Remember when you cut off my eyelids by putting me in a sensory deprivation chamber in total darkness because I wanted to go to my mother's funeral?
Remember when you chained me to a bed and beat on my feet with wooden paddles until they turned to blood and swelled up like basketballs?

When I get out I'm going to spend the hatred you've taught me by becoming a mass murderer and all you judges, jurypersons, cops, jailers and executioners can't stop me because it was you who murdered Charles Brooke and taught me that it is cool to kill. It was you who told me I lived in a free country as you ground your heel in my humanity and laughed at my pleas for dignity and spat on my manhood.

It was you who dressed up in moon man suits, beat me to the floor with clubs and drugged me with Prolixin because I couldn't stop calling my baby daughter's name when she left this world.
So in return for the lessons you have given me, I am going to teach you two things.
First that these sealed-tomb, tiger cages belong to you Mr. & Mrs. America
and it is you who must accept responsibility for what you and your hirelings have done to me.

The second thing I am going to teach you is something you should already know but don't act like you do, namely the Christians say "Do Unto Others, etc"
The Buddhists say something about "what comes around, goes around"
In prison we simply say:
Payback belongs to me when I get out.

It won't be much longer, I am counting the days
So, you better pray I don't find you, gentle reader, 'cause when I've paid my debt to society,
Society must pay its debt to me.
When I get out!

Free At last
Walter C. Clair
I was irresponsible, so they sent me to a place where I had no responsibilities.
I wasn't a productive member of society so they isolated me from the community.
I wasn't positive and constructive,
so they put me in a place where we're degraded and made useless.
I wasn't trust worthy so they put me where there is no trust.
I wasn't kind, so they placed me where I was subjected to hate and cruelty.
I wasn't loving so they put me where there is little love.
They wanted me non-violent, so they placed me where there is violence all around.
They wanted me to quit being a tough guy,
so they placed me where the tough guy is respected.
They wanted me to be a winner, so they placed me where all the losers are housed under one roof.
They wanted me to quit exploiting people, so they put me where people exploit one another.
They wanted me to see myself, and when I looked around, I didn't like what I saw.
I wanted to change what I was, now they are helping me do that.

P.C. (Potassium Chloride)
By Ralph Bolden
I'm dreaming of death....
When I close my eyes for the last time I rewind...
Will the last thing I see be my mother's smile?
Or the faces of the jury from my trial.
Watching the P.C. come down the track,
going into my vain, now there is no turning back.
Strapped to the crucifix - pacifist cringe;
If murder ain't right, why would the state kill them.
Coughing up blood when I wake up in my cell,
I think of my mother and a tear of love breaks my shell;
But truthfully I'll never fold; day to day stay strong
Living in a place where no one belongs
Death Row is a place where I lay captive,
24-7 lockdown is how we live.
I smile on the outside, tormented in my dreams.
I see Potassium Chloride enter my bloodstream

About the author: Mr. Bolden is currently on Pennsylvania's Death Row. He is a performance poet, writer and musician.
Among his many inspirations are his brother, an accomplished musician, his mother. a published poet and author, and his great grandmother who at 92 years old has just published her second book. His interests are: religion (comparative studies), music, and current events. Correspondence is welcome.
Ralph Bolden #CZ 1411
1040 E. Roy Furman Hwy.
Waynesburg, PA. 15370-8090

An Alien Society
James Prince
An alien society,
comforts - formed from iron.
Illusions fill captivity,
freedom attached with chains.
Prosperity - prisons thrive,
slavery legalized.
Oppression - a way of life,
suffering enhances happiness.
Men fade:
thoughts darken,
hope disintegrates,
looking for a way out
an end to suffering.
The will to survive is strong
some live,
others embrace deaths' allure.
Survivors suffer another day,
hoping to enter an alien society.

Justice
By John Hamilton
Am I crazy or am I mad?
There's a difference you know and it's kind of sad.
The screams that echo from my prison cell
Bring forth the reality of this man made hell.
Fighting caged like a captured beast,
unfairly treated to say the least.
Loved by few, hated by many
Seeking help but there isn't any.
Society turned a blind eye on me when I was a kid
then my life went on a downward skid.
Judged by a jury of so called peers,
Sentenced to prison to spend some years.
I might have become a man of means,
but a thing called "Justice shattered my dreams.
It's a horrible story I have to tell
of a life spent traveling down a highway to hell.
Still I stand tall, like a tall oak tree,
My head held high for all to see.
For even though my freedom they take
my mind won't break nor my spirit surrender.
So look at me people, in your creation
the perfect picture of total damnation.
You left me with arrogant pride,
A seated hatred burning inside
This is an example of justice well done,
No no it has been no fun.
But if I had to do it all over again,
I would have to decline.

No title
By Brother Malik Morris
Living in hell in an evil and wicked bureaucratic repressive world
unjustly sentenced to death but I still have hope and eternal life.
Although all odds are against me and the wicked seek to frighten me with the death penalty,
For a crime I am innocent of I still stood firm.
Although I had not the means to higher a good defense lawyer,
and wanted to believe in the one the bureaucratic criminal justice system appointed.
And I refused to pled guilty to a life sentence for a crime I didn't commit....
While all odds are against me and a court appointed lawyer did not provide me an adequate defense,
I still had pride, dignity, courage and faith in Almighty God,
and it is my strong, faithful hope that one day Allah (God) will see me through.
Although all odds are against me Allah (God) is my ultimate goal of eternity.
That is why I am able to stand firm against all odds against me.
Because I acknowledge and submit only to the Creator Allah (God).
As-salaam alaikum
Meaning peace be unto you.

Life in Prison
By Andre Bennett
Prison is a place where you write letters and can't think of anything to say.
It's a place hope springs eternal and where each parole board appearance means a chance to get out even if the odds are hopelessly against you.
It's a place where you lose respect for the law because you see it raw and naked, twisted and bent and ignored and blown out of proportion to suit the people who explore it.
It is a place where you wait for a promised visit that doesn't come and when you find out the reason you are disappointed that such a little thing could keep them from showing up.
It a place where you can go for months without feeling the touch of somebody from the outside, and where you go for years without having a kind word.
It is a place where friendships are shallow and you know that.
It is a place where you can go to bed when you are not tired, and pull the blankets over your head when you are not cold. Prison is a place where you escape by reading, by dreaming or by going mad.

The Invisible Mailman
By Craig Harrison
The strangest thing happened to me today
an invisible mailman came my way
He brought me something that wasn't quite there,
and you see an invisible mailman is quite rare.
So I open this nothing real wide
to find even less when I looked inside.
The penmanship was neat and clean
So clean in fact it couldn't be seen.
The scent was sweet as I recall
So sweet in fact there was none at all.
Maybe next time you'll think twice
And pay attention to this advice.
I sit behind these walls for now;
But things could always change somehow.
I could be out there when things are better
And you could be in here expecting a letter.

I'm Human Too!
By Richard Reibow
I was born a human being in a world that knew no bounds,
I also did a lot of things, and traveled lots of grounds.
I even did numerous things that helped to make me grow;
Some I am paying for, yes you reap what you sow.
I was born a human being, sure I made a few mistakes,
But humanism is not a title that one can forsake.
I notice that how recently it seems to be the norm,
Society has given up on me, they think I can't conform.
That's really not the half of it, or the part that hurts the most.
I was born a human being, now they call me an animal.
Although I'm here for committing a crime,
I'm human just like you.
All I ask is for a chance to re-enter society,
And be looked upon as a human being, cause I was born one.
I'm paying my dues to society, by serving all this time;
To label me an animal is a much greater crime.

"Prison"
by Roger Thorson
What can I do, or what can I say?
Since I'm in prison, I'm locked away.
Away from reality and love that's pure,
Facing the time, I must endure.
Looks are deceiving, forever beware
In here it's a fact, No one cares.

Smiles are often like clown's
Painted on to hide the many frowns.
The hearts are so cold, their brittle and dry,
Not shedding a tear and refusing to cry.
Words are like swords, they'll cut like a razor.
As forming clouds of happiness fades,
Beware of the shadows and what is lurking within,
This place is hell and it lives on sin.

My Love For Thee
By Larry D. Wiley Jr.
My love for thee is pure as gold,
For only you I wish to hold.
And as we are growing old
You keep me warm when nights are cold.
When time goes by as sitting sand,
We walk together hand in hand.
My love for thee in which I stand,
In symbol of a wedding band.
Just as though we were as one,
Our love is true and not undone.
It shines as brightly as the sun,
Times spent alone are so much fun
And this my love I wish for you
That you will never be so blue,
For my love will keep to see you through,
Cause ones like you are very few.
When the day comes with you,
I'll be there, no other my eyes can see
From prison bars I will be free
To give my love to only thee...

Where Did My Baby Go?
By James Jones

I am still looking for a lover in all the wrong places. Twenty-five years ago, my wife walked out the door. Now I go from door to door, asking where did my baby go. Six days a week. I worked like a slave and gave my lover all my pay. And she still ran away.
Twenty-five years I have been searching this land, looking for my baby who left with another man. Of all the doors in this town, one of them my woman is behind, so I will search until she is found.
I am told that there are so many good women in this world who need my kind of love. Thank you for your help, but the only one I will accept, is the one that left.
Twenty five years is not that long, how far could my baby have gone? If my search ends up in vain, I will never fall in love again. Oh tears that are falling from my eyes, maybe she will give us one more try.
On the street that had no name, I heard a voice that made my heart sing. So I ran towards the sound, hoping to find the woman that left me behind. What was only several houses away, seemed like miles to me this day, as the tears ran down my face. Then my heart went out with a bang, and I knew I had reached my end. As I fell down on my knees, I wonder, why did my baby leave a man who is so easy to please.
Oh heart that once was strong as steel, let me see the woman that I love, before you send me above. So I crawled towards the sound of her voice and as I looked through the key hole, I saw my long lost love, happier than I ever seen her before. As she held my best friend in her arms, I knew why my baby ran from home.
My friend was once sad and blue, so I told him, "What's mine, also belongs to you". So he took my wife and left me this empty life. Oh heart, oh heart, it is so hard to say good-by, oh what a way to die.