100 JOHN KS
The ambiance of death row is difficult to explain
Each one of us a stranger, alone, yet one.
Welcome to my reality.
I have a personal view.
From my vantage point,
I see the anguish behind each face
The hollow searching eyes,
I hear the screams of terror in the night.
Quiet prayers for help.
The agony of isolation,
Loneliness, playing out.
What I see reminds me
Of what I have become.
Afraid to reach out,
Not knowing if
The hand will be accepted.
I keep my fear hidden deep within.
How threatening to trust another,
Concealed deep inside the abyss of this man made torment.
Rebutting their daily attempts to steal my dignity,
It is difficult to persevere.
Refusing to crumble,
Searching for evidence at caring.
Every new day,
Like each brilliant sunrise.
A source of…
And of again...
99 JOHN TX
I saw a Pauper whoses eyes were full of tears,
The markings on his face showed he had been crying for years.
He tried to be cheerful and present bliss with glee,
But heaviness of the heart he could not conceal from me;
I spoke words to console and bring peace, content and sate,
He heard and he listened, appreciated my bate.
Life had been tough with Larshness and lure,
The Pauper left me solemnly, more hatred to endure...
A Paupers choices are not easily made; chaos, contempt are already laid.
He works alone and lonely (his truest friend)
The journey has promised him lonely to the End;
He reasons in his heart and deeply in his mind,
That life interweaved a most evil bind,
He begs to the sky, “please have mercy from above”
No answer returns, no sympathy, no love;
The Pauper fears for this steps wobble aloud,
“what´s next?” question his soul, “is itlightning from a cloud?”
He did not ask for riches, or even to be the best,
Just peace he wished for, so his sore bones could rest...
The Pauper bathes from water filled eyes,
A horrible world had uglied his guise;
He treads by weakness, and shame, and smear,
A heart once hopeful, and gentle kindness to endear.
In labored traipse the Pauper sang his song,
His melody saddened tuned by social wrong.
But vibrant or not his voice still gave break,
The pain of memory, and lose, teamed with heartache;
“Please!” The Pauper begs when no one can hear,
The washes his face by a multitude of tears...
A pauper is human in flesh made tender,
His path was designed to direct him meander,
Every trail leads to repine,
No gift of miracle has ever consign,
But one things for sure and it will not be late,
The poor Paupers road will cease by fate...
98 ROY FL
Push back the horizon
Allow no cloud to bar your passage to the future
Go forward and go far
I ignore the flimsy curtain that floats beyond your view.
Never allow horizons to hurt or hinder you
Force them backwards into empty space
Fear no deceptive barriers
There is nothing but mist and lace
Tomorrow calls and beckons
Your star is guiding you
Sail on and trust the captain to take and bring you through.
97 DENNIS CA
I was once just a child, and a young boy without understanding or knowledge of my spirituality that I was born with “Pure”. Then after years of spending quality time reading, studying and getting to know myself, I was able to quiet my mind, and hear and listen to my inner voice/spirit. I soon came to understand that if I lower my pride and put my ego aside, I would be able to humble myself and grow within – and be a true man.
Prior to becoming the man “I am”, there was so much noise inside my mind until I had not a clue as to all the peace I have inside me. It doesn´t matter where I am, I can always quiet myself and find the peace I need within myself.
Within my mental state of beautiful peace, my spirit and soul joins together, and the love of God Almighty moves me. Creativity becomes my way, and “Pieces of my soul” I share in many ways. Writing poetry, music, letters of construtiveness to children, teenagers and adults, drawing, painting, and understanding that life isn´t all about me and what all I can habe; but, moreover, what I can give of myself to help others.
As I hope you enjoy my poems, please keep in mind that “Pieces of my soul” you will get with each of poems, as “Pieces of my soul” will continue to flow from me to you.
As you move forward in your life, I hope that my poetry helps you in some small way to make your day brighter.
96 DENNIS CA
Doing time, be it, a day, a week, a month, a year, a decade, I have done 20 years and I say, no time is easy.
The one thing that an inmate faces on a perdiem (daily) bases is pure lack of freedom outwardly. 90% of the people that get arrested have not a clue as to who they are or their inner beingg, and the freedom that exists there within them. With this as fact, there is only one of two things that an inmate can do:
1) Do the time
2) Let the time do him or her!
One that is in the mold of mentally and physically “do the time” is one that is taking time to collect information that will help one to learn about oneself. For to learn about oneself and be on that path of self-aknowledgment, is to gain most of all Self-Control. Without that one can find oneself “Letting the time do him or her”. And that is what´s known as “Hard-timing”.
There are many inmates that refuse to face reality and turn to drugs and homemade wine (Purno). These vices last for a very short time to put one into an unreal state of mind (Fantasy). If you will, only to face the same reality when one comes down from that high back to reality that is always before all of us.
I came to the point years ago, that I realized that I was totally non-productive when I was high. In that capacity, I was no more than a failure, and that had to be fixed. I check myself and put an end to getting high, which allowed my brain-power to strengthen, and open up my mind to much of who I am.
Today I live by these words: “FAILURE IS NOT AN OPTION!”
I look at my mind as a computer system, and the only way that a computer is to continue to be productive is if you feed it new information (Data). I read that in which will enlighten me to the knowledge and pass-ways into my inner being, as well as what is going on around me in life.
I have heard many inmates talk with very low levels of self-worth, as they come right out and say, “I don´t want to read no books”. I watch these guys and their actions, and I see no self-discipline. I can only hope and pray that one day they will grow up and become men, and learn about themselves, and become an asset to the human-race rather than a hindrance.
I say that because I have seen your brothers come into these types of places (jails & prisons) and they mimic just what they see of others that have been where they´ve just arrived to (Death Row). At times, they can witness only two types of behavior (Productive & Non-Productive). Most of the time, the young brothers will mimic the behavior of the non-productive undisciplined type, because he is still just a kid mentally.
95 MILO FL
The queen said off with his head
These words I heard to my dread
Lock him in the dungeon until that day
No one will hear what he has to say
The queen had issued other decree
That fate she issued imposed on me
Take him away to his cell
Where he will feel the pains of hell
Let his cries be silent to all
Not to be heard beyond the dungeon walls
Where apathy will take control
Planting seeds of despair upon it´s soul
Let his cries echo both day and night
Only the dungeon walls will hear his plight
Let no one say the queen is wrong
And refuse to hear and abuse my throne
94 DENNIS CA
Soul 2 Soul, is the making of wonders yet to be told,
It is like a young rose in the first days of it´s glow,
With a beautiful blossom after the last rain,
Always one with nature,
And pretty without vain,
Always at it best,
And dazzling before all guest,
For even the peddles that fall,
Continue to give their All-n-All.
Soul 2 Soul, is a graceful flow,
Between the two is unlimited desire to accompany the others feelings,
And all communications are like the sweet of a gentle summers breeze,
Often so good it brings you to your knees,
And for any 2 that share,
It is perfect harmony that is theirs.
Soul 2 Soul, is that of the Masters Plan,
It is the way of life that is meant for all humans
Yes, it is the fundation of loving kindness,
It is the delight of what is truthfully charity,
Charity is the best of a choice when giving of oneself to another,
It is the sharing of joy, peace, patience,
Kindness, goodness, faithfulness,
Gentleness, and self-control,
Charity never fails,
As it is the gracefulness of Soul 2 Soul.
Soul 2 Soul, is more valuable than fine gold,
As it is an eternal balance made for us,
That we may live together,
In peace, and love at it´s best.
Soul 2 Soul, is a continuous celebration,
It is a party of the heart´s made in heaven,
God´s gift to all humanity,
We only need to seek His purpose,
That should be our goal,
And to all I challeng you,
To let true love to what it do,
And I assure you that God´s Divine Purpose will shine through,
For life is the result of love,
Love is the result of charity,
That only comes from Soul 2 Soul,
It is the most dazzling of beauty that you will come to know,
For all eternity we are God´s grace,
Soul 2 Soul...
93 WILLIE TX
Beyond the healed bones from “sticks and stones” the pain still remains, My name is...
Beyond the chastity lost there lingers a cost a scarring of the soul, My name is...
Beyond the crime done and the repentance won sorrow has not died, My name is...
Beyond the addiction broken and the apologies spoken a shattered life yet exists, My name is...
Beyond disease diagnosed a life´s misery confirmed a stricken body felt, My name is...
Beyond love mourned a heart left unadorned and dry less tears, My name is...
Beyond all that´s desired belief like a raging fire a glimmer remains, My name is...
Beyond what is seen and everything between you push on and on, My name is...
Beyond the prayers said and scriptures read a heart full of joy, My name is...
92 WILLIE TX
Love bridges the gap between two worlds bordering at the barred visitation-booth window, a window scarred by hate and love-gang graffiti and lovers names forever tattooed on its grimy surface, textured by matching greasy palm prints on each side;
Evidence of the efforts to maintain contact. Acrid smoke from burnt bridges, burns my eyes; I produce tears to put the fire out, the air still tastes like ashes, laced with barbed wire – it´s painful to breath it in, to accept it.
I´ve watched cheap pain grow layer by layer on visitation-booth walls; over the little grills that filter our voices of the phones, our feelings, our lives, through its tiny canals clogging with waxy build-up. Like the growing callous surrounding the hearts of those who once had feelings for me.
Making it hard to be felt, to be heard, over the din of the world. Some tries to entomb me in their past, neck-deep in debris from crumbling crosswalks, and decrepit memories. But I refuse to lie still, to be buried alive, to be forgotten; love dies hard, I live...
Still, though dead in eyes of many. My old nickname etched into the steel table, below that barred visitation-booth window, along with and Angel´s wing... A window bearing witness to wide-ranging humanitiy. I´d have to dig through year after year of painted memories, to see the boy I used to be, to remember the way it once was, to see how much I´ve grown – closer to some, apart from others, and into the man I am...Becoming...
91 WILLIE TX
Don´t let the system steal your determination, optimism or drive, Every day we awaken our mission is to stay alert and remain alive. To live as examples of people who shall wave no white flags of surrendering.
Never giving-in to weak-mindedness by sidestepping life´s daily snags. It´s a must that we overcome the hurdles and barriers placed in our way/lives. We can´t effectively change tomorrow by neglecting what´s happening today.
Demand to be defined by the present you and not the mistakes of your past, focus on what´s most meaningful to gain success and do all to make it last. Spread positive energy in all you do, so that your conscience remains clear, by doing so you´ll be able to recognize your triumph when it´s near...
90 WILLIE TX
In a bush I saw a bird.
And I remembered what I´d heard:
that birds are worth a lot when caught.
Unbiden came to me a thought...
I´d catch the birdie in my hand,
then with my left I´d hold him and
I´d grab another with my right,
and hold both with all my might.
So this I did, and there I stood
wiht both hands full,
but still I would secure another bird of worth,
to add to my financial/family girth.
I tried to catch one with my toe,
But how to grasp, my feet don´t know.
What more ideas could I try,
Ambition mine to satisfy?
I had some pockets numbering six;
I stuffed them full, put more betwixt
My chest and chin. That made them squirm.
But I, determined, held them firm.
I put some in a birdie cage,
The kind that were the going rage,
I locked my charges safe within,
But, oh, the peace-detracting din!
As birdies shrieked and birdies chirped,
And birdies called and barked and twirled.
It took both hands to stop my ears;
I´d nothing left to wipe my tears.
Just take these birds away from me,
Empty my pockets, set them free.
Open the cage so none remain
Before they drive me quite insane.
The birdies flew over the hill.
The eve was quiet and all was still.
I leaned back, body now relaxed,
Realizing just how much I´d taxed,
My mental health for fleeting wealth,
My family´s grief for pleasure brief.
What can I say on such a day,
When all the birds have gone away?
I heaved a sigh, I took a nap,
I sipped cold water from the tap.
I wondered what life´s meaning is,
It seems existence had no fizz.
Surely it was not intended
That one´s clothing need be mended
On the seat from all the wear
Relaxing and just sitting there.
But in that moment came a bird.
About this fowl I´d also heard.
Its plumage white like when it snowed
A message of the truth it showed
I caught the bird, I felt its worth,
My heart burned now for kingdom girth
For clear my burden heart just knew
With each bird caught, the kingdom grew.
I caught more birds, I worked with haste,
For surely there´s no time to waste.
My arms grew heavy with the strain,
Expanding work I must sustain.
My wife and children felt let down;
I had not time to reach around,
I called for tools to catch more fowl,
I called for help, I need it now!
I called for wiser heads than mine
To give direction, give a sign
They helped me to prioritize,
Gave new insight and cleared my eyes.
There comes a time in every frame,
To limit even noble aim.
Still I would rather thus expire,
Than chase to death my own desires!
This poem I wrote a bit ago
Still leaves me things I´d like to know:
So I´ll keep writing out each thought,
And think out loud each answer sought.
How can a catcher surely know,
Which birds to catch and which to let go???
When is the effort large enough?
When has the strain become too tough??
Did Jesus ever stop and say,
“Come back”, we´ll talk another day?
Did Paul on record e´er refrain
Because of cost, because of strain?
Did Peter staunchly e´er refuse
One resource of this day to choose,
That he might use to spread the news;
Expand God´s kingdon thus to use?
But on the other hand I see
Some children grow up wordly,
Because their daddy´s not home,
As church work causes him to roam.
Perhaps there´s not one certain spot
Where everyone must place a dot,
Where line is drawn upon the sand,
And on that line all take a stand.
But EVERY christian brotherhood/sisterhood
Must seek together how they should
Fulfill commission great and last
Of Jesus Christ from centuries past...
89 SPOON CA
Nothing man makes can
Parallel one blade of grass
Or one grain of sand
No matter if you split
The atom and discombobulate
Its structure and blow
Nothing man makes
Can parallel one flower,
One stream, one sun ray,
One moon glow
No matter how much
You strive to be God
Of this world, this planet
Looking back, you think
Seeing stars born-
Black holes grow
Rings around Saturn
Nothing man does man
Even make you God
Over the tiniest
Planet in the solar system
88 SPOON CA
When you breath in
I want to breath out
I want to know you
From the inside out
Like a tree knows
Like a flower knows
Its stem, petals
Like a lion knows
87 SPOON CA
It took a life sentence
To show me how
To love and live
It took a life sentence
To show me how
To look away
So close your eyes
If you don´t like the color
Of my skin
Close your eyes
If you are not willing
To look within.
86 SPOON CA
If it breaks your heart
And makes you warm
I am sorry I adore you
If the sun shines
Less on you
And mother moon reflects
Less in your eyes
I am sorry I dream of you
If the four winds cry
And the grasses
Under your toes
Never allowed you to feel
Earth mothers flow
If these words never
Allowed you to know
How deeply I care
If I never told you
How I felt
It would have caused
A drought in other
Parts of me
85 ROY FL
When you´re laying in bed and waiting for sleep
Take a few moments and think of me
Who knows, maybe our dreams will cross
And the ones that I have may even become yours
As I speak or share my life, feelings and words
With you in a very special way
I could even give to you all the joys and sadnesses I feel
And when we do meet
A very rare meeting it will be
And a very blessed date it will be
You never need to be or sleep alone
If you think of me
While you are there at home
In bed all alone...
84 RONALD FL
I am held in suspense,
Surrounded by concrete and steel,
Held to surrender to their will.
I await my fate,
And one day I will,
Face an execution date.
Step off in a room...
I will feel the doom,
Strapped to a table,
My last words will be heard,
I will speak them loud,
And hold my head proud,
And then I´ll say:
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth,
But I am here to share,
To share the truth.
And eye for an eye,
America will cry,
But I am here to say
That that´s a lie.
For a rich man will walk,
And a poor man will die.
And that we can´t deny,
Nor can we justify.
Worst of the worst,
For it´s a lawyer that
Put me here on Death Row.
Assigned by the state
To determine my fate.
I was white trash,
Just another junkie,
That´s why they assigned me
A two-bit flunky.
And I knew
At first glance
That I didn´t stand
And kind of chance.
83 RONALD FL
Here where insanity looms
In the implorable cage of doom
Where you shall launguish
In complete mental anguish
For here days turn to weeks
Weeks into months and months into years
All blended together
With devastating tears
Insanity shall rain
Causing heartache and pain
For it shall appear
That insanity is near
Captavated and distraught
With suicidal thoughts
Whithering here under the sentence of death
Smothered by this cage
Gasping for breath
In the implorable cage, cage of the doom
Where insanity clearly, clearly looms.
82 RONALD FL
I struggle with my hopes
I struggle with my dreams
And I struggle everday
With my life, it seems.
Stretching one day
Off into another,
Existing in this world
For my mother.
A world so, so unkind
Unliker hers this is mine
Held off-in suspense
Held in by razor wire fence.
Concrete, steel and stone
I´m left here all alone,
Where days turn into weeks
Weeks into months
And months into years,
With so many tears
A world of doom, a tiny cage,
A small ass room,
Nine by six feet
Of linving space.
A world like no other place
Two worlds, two hearts
Separated miles apart.
Yes, unlike her´s this is mine
A world that is so, so unkind.
81 RONALD FL
I know loneliness
Like most will never know
I know loneliness
Like most will never feel
I know loneliness
A feeling that´s so surreal
I know loneliness
Like no one should ever know
I know loneliness
I know its feel
For I am captavated by it
Held to its will.
I know loneliness
I know it´s self defiance
I know loneliness
I know it´s deadly silence
I know it all too well
For this loneliness
Is my deep dark hell.
80 RONALD FL
I strain to look out, so far away,
Through the crack in the window,
At the dawn of the day.
To catch a glimpse of freedom
Far off in the distance
Escaping this cage
And my daunting existence.
I can see freedom
But only in my past
So please tell me why
Am I trying to last?!
Existing in this world
That has deminished all hope
So please tell me how
I am supposed to cope?
For I stand at my cell bars
Staring off in the distance
Yet I still have a to cope
With my daunting existence
79 RONALD FL
Death Row is a place
Where a man is disgraced
Where flies don´t land
And birds don´t sing
Where there´s no love
Where one seeks love
But can not find
For people truly feel
We are a waste of time
So you sit in your cage
Day after day,
And watch your life
You have no hopes
You have no dreams
You have no meaning
It surely seems
78 RONALD FL
A Date with Death
Sit back and let me take you, step by step, through a hideous, outragious, unbelievable adventure, that hopefully you will never experience. This is a world and the fate of a man doomed by Capital Punishment,
The Judges states, you are to be taken to the Florida Department of Corrections, where you will be held until such a time where a deadly mixture will be ran through your body, until you are pronounced “dead”. May God have mercy on your soul. You are then sent to Florida State Prison (F.S.P) and placed on G-Wing, in a 9x6 foot cell, where you will spent 164 out of 168 hours a week, of the most miserable from of confinement there is. You will be housed here at F.S.P until room is available at Union Correctional Institution (U.C.I). Where 300 plus death row inmates are housed, awaiting the final outcome of their appeals. You may sit in one of these celles 10, 15, 20 even 25 years awaiting the final decision. Over these years, you will make friends with some of these men, and you will watch as some of these men deteriorate under the imminent imperil of death, or the pressure of existing year in and year out in a 9x6...54 square foot cage. Condition´s the human mind are not meant, and in some case´s not capable of dealing with. You will pass by cell´s going to medical, etc... and see the anguish and stress on the faces of men, who know their appeals are exhausted and at any minute their death warrant may be signed. For once your appeals are exhausted in the United States Supreme Court, your file is sent to the Governor´s office in Tallahassee, where it is reviewed. You are then geven a clemency hearing. You will be turned down and you know it, clemency is not given, they´re just going through the motions. So after that the governor signs your death warrant, placing the time and date on it. 7:00 pm April 20, 2006 The warrant is then flown to Raiford, FL and handed to the Warden at U.C.I. The warden will send his officers to retrieve you. they will make a show of it, coming 10 to 12 officers deep. Your attorney will have warned you weeks in advance that your file is on the Governor´s desk, and your warrant is going to be signed. So everytime you hear the electric door pop at the front of the wing, you ask yourself, ar they coming for me? That door may pop two dozen times a day. So by the time the 10 to 12 officers do show up, your nerves are shot! So they come to your cell front and state, get dressed. You will go through a strip search, be handcuffed, and escorted our front where the Warden will be waiting for you. Officers will be sent in to pack your property and send it to F.S.P. You step into the office, in front of the Warden, where he reads you the warrant, informing you of the date and time of your death/murder. You will then be escorted outside, placed in a van and driven to F.S.P under heavy surveillance. You will arrive at the back ramp that leads to the 2nd floor, this is the same ramp you walked years earlier, upon your arrival at F.S.P. You will walk up the ramp, and enter the rear of the building, walking straight down the hall, 40 to 45 yards, coming to a section called “times square” an electronic gate will open, you will enter it, turning to your left, walking 10 yards where you will stop at another electronic gate, waiting for it to open, where you will continue on 10 more yards, coming at a stop at another gate. An officer will come out of the other side of the gate to your right and open the gate with a key. You will enter the gate turning to your right, entering the door where the officer came from. You will now have entered the clinic, where you will be examined. You will then be escorted back out the same way you came in, only you will not make a turn at “times square” you will keep walking some 200 yards, going through 3 electronic gates, passing 12 wings, that house some 1´200 inmates at F.S.P.Upon entering the 3rd and final gate, and walking the final 25 yards, you will G-wing, the wing you were housed on years earlier. You have reached the end, come to a stop at a solid, steel door, done in black and tan, with a big black letter “Q” written over the top of the door. The officer´s open the door. You step inside, over to your left, is a Sgts. desk, to the right of the desk you will see a board, attached to the wall, with names written on it in black ink, the top of the board has 12 cell´s listing the names of the individuals, the middle of the board has the same listing. These are inmates that have been involved in something serious. You glance down to the bottom of the board, on the right side. Three cells are listed, and you see your name and number and the date and time of your execution. To your right is a stair case, two sets, one going up, the other is going down. You walk down the first 8 to 10 steps, turn to your right, and go down the remaining 8 to 10 steps, again turning to your right, where you see another board, again, with 3 cells, your name and number, and date and time of execution is again listed and the cell where you will be spending the next 30 to 60 days of your life. You will pass these boards each time you see your attorney, preacher or spiritual advisor, or going to visits or medical, so you will be reminded and re-reminded on a daily basis of the date and time your life will end. You step towards the board, a gate door is opened manually by key, you step through, another Sgt. desk is to your right. This is for the Sgt. that oversees 3 cells which are called “Death Watch Cells”. To your left, a gate is again opened with a key. You walk through and down about 12 to 14 feet where the door is opened to your left. You step through and the officers shuts the bar doors, removing the cuffs and chains.
You look around at the sink, toilet, and steel bunk with the thin mattress that you´ve grown so accustomed to over the years, but your thoughts immediately go to all of the men you´ve known over the years and how many have spent their last remaining days sleeping restless nights on that very bunk. You pace back and forth with so many thoughts, thoughts of the past, of the present, of the remaining 30 to 60 days, and the strength and courage your mus show for the sake of your family and loved ones, and the pain and anguish you must endure. Your property arrives and is placed in the cell with you. So you take out your pen and paper, and start writing letters, saying your good-byes to family and friends that are unable or unwilling to come visit. The days have passed rather fast, and you´re down to the last week. Seven days left to live. Your property is removed from the cell, placed outside the cell in cardboard boxed. An officer will now be stationed in front of your cell, watching and logging down your every move for the next seven days. So he will hand you a book, paper, pen, etc... from your property, you will return it when you are finished.
Today is Friday April 14th, 2006, the last Friday you will be alive. The next few days pass. Your thoughts continue to fall upon that your, last Saturday, Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, you are measured for your clothes that you will be executed in. It´s Wednesday April 19th, 2006, 07:00 pm. You have 24 hours to live. This time, tomorrow, you will in the chamber. But, you´re now being relocated to the backside. So you are escorted back out, once you step through the gate where the Sgt. desk is located. You will pass the board with your name, number and tomorrow´s date on it, with the execution time 7:00pm. You walk another 12 to 14 feet and come to a solid door, it´s opened, you step through, walking 3 feet, turning to your right, walking through another gate, 12 to 14 feet. Three cells are located to your right, but 3 to 4 feet ahead of them is a large sliding gray door. Behind this door is Florida´s death chamber, that has seen many a soul´s taken. Some guilty, some not, but all the same, taken under the false pretense of Justice. You enter one of the 3 cells. You´re given your last mea. Also, you will soon have a last visit with your family. So you will be escorted up front. The visit is anything but a joyous occasion, for you to see the pain and anguish all over your loved ones faces. That´s when you realize that your suffering ends in less than 24 hours, but your families suffering will continue on. You think to yourself, is it I or they, who are truly sentenced? The visit ends in what is a tearful goodbye. You´re escorted back to the cell. People you´ve never seen are constantly coming down to see you. Most are big wigs from Tallahassee. You get a restless night´s sleep. Awakening to your big day, Thursday April 20th 2006. You have less than 12 hours left to live. The time ticks off, minute by minute, hour by hour, it is now 6:00pm. The medical tech comes to see you. He looks at your arms to see where he is going to hook up the I.V. The big gray door slides open and the gurney, thinking of all the men who have expired here. You are removed from the cell, you´re layed upon the gurney, officers putting leather straps on your wrists, ankles, across your chest, and even your forehead. The medical tech hooks two I.V´s up. A back up to ensure everything in their plan goes well. You´re pushed into the execution chamber. People are hooking tubes to the I.V. You look into a mirror that is positioned over head at an angle. You see a curtain. You hear a slam, as the large gray door to the chamber is being shut. Your heart is racing faster than it ever has. The Wardens gives the signal, you the curtain being pulled back, it is opened to reveal many faces, some recognizable, most not. Victim´s family, your two witnesses and members of the media. The Warden starts off reading the warrant, stating that you have been convicted by a jury of your peers and sentenced to die, on this 20th day of April 2006. May God have mercy on your soul. Then he states, do you have any last words. Upon your final words, the Warden gives a hidden signal to the executioner. The executioner releases a deadly mixture that is now running through the tubes, into your veins. A last thought goes to your loved ones. You look at the many faces staring back at you. Closing your eyes for the final time. The medical tech comes in at 7:19pm, taking your vital signs and pronouncing you dead at 7:23pm. The curtain closes, and the witnesses are taken out of the rear of Q-wing to awaiting vans that carry them out. And the clean up begins, a white hearse pulls through the rear gate and to the back of Q-wing, where your lifeless body is loaded in it, and driven off to the morgue.
Within a few weeks, a box arrives at your families, inside are your personal belongings.
The deed is done, and the mourning continues.
This act was committed under the mantel of Justice, by a civilized society that proclaims the Roman Empire to be barbaric. Yet, what I just described is the highest form of premeditated murder that has ever taken place! A murder planned to the precise minute, where their fellow citizens sit around and view this horrific case of state sanctioned homicide. A penalty that is arbitrarily and capriciously handed out to the poor. For the only true equality in the American legal system is the poor equally get screwed by a system portraying Equal Justice.
77 GUSTAVO TX
Heard a voice the other day. Was it real... or am I going crazy? How do I know?
Wondering what to do today. Do I draw? Nah, getting burned out. Do I read? Nah, can´t focus on the words.
What did I do today? Stared at the walls of my cage and imagined fanciful creatures and images from the peeling paint and bare concrete showing through... Like I did when I was a kid staring at clouds.
Passing out mail....My heart is racing! Maybe I´ll get mail tonight!
Guard walks by my cell, never showing down. No mail. I wait a moment...maybe he´ll find something for me and come back.
I give a deep sigh, and step away from the door and sit on my bunk. Again no mail.
Sitting on my bunk, thinking of everyone I love and care about, wondering if they´re okay... Hoping they´re okay. I miss them so much!
Another day. Thankfully no voices to make me question my sanity.
Received mails from an old flame. I smiled, and went down memory lane!
Today I say good-bye. I´m scheduled to die, and I would say please don´t cry, but you´ll cry anyway.
Instead I´ll say, when you´re done crying, look at a cloud and smile...
And I´ll smile back.
76 CHRIS FL
Dear Lord.., I got to thank you
Dear Lord.., you been with me
Dear Lord.., through the thick and thin
Dear Lord.., how can it be
Dear Lord.., you watch over me
75 SPOON CA
When my heart was broken
and heavy with pain
you came to me and loved
me without shame
When my life was hell
and I had nothing to hold on too -
you came to me and gave
me nothing but love
CA SPOON 74
The sky isn’t always blue
and I didn’t see it coming
I believed in you
I didn’t see it coming
for how many colors
one never sees in a rainbow
I trusted you
to never let go
I trusted you
more than the moon
I trusted you
to always be true
73 SPOON CA
The great pyramids
May crumble to the ground
The seven wonders of the world
Someday may not be so wonderful
These bodies where we live
Someday may return to dust
Yet, I will want to hug and hold you
For however long, forever is
CA SPOON 72
I cannot go on like this
But I will go on -
on and on, even when
on is off.
Something is stirring
in my soul, wanting
to burst out like
a hot spring in the desert
wanting to come out
and I don’t know
what it is - in the moment
I hope it’s a poem
I hope it’s a song
Something vast like Euripides
Something wise and funny
Something deep like Langston Hughes
So deep in the seas
where no light goes
I know what it is
I want to create my way
off this lockdown
and write my way
out of prison
They allowed redemption
once, but now only condemnation
I cannot go on
but I will go on -
on and on even when
on becomes off
Melancholic and sad
They are letting some
lifers go home
some I have known for a lifetime
and that is a good thing
Yet there is no end in sight for me
and I don’t know
anymore where to go
to get strength to go on
I don’t know where
to go to leave
this sadness and pain
and make my heart sing again
and make my spirit soar again
Everywhere I look
there is a big sign
that says no -
No forgiveness, no love
no hope no second chance,
no dreams and no romance
I cannot go on
but I will go on -
and on and on even when
on becomes off
But I have nowhere
Nowhere that says
Yes, it’s okay to dream
for some come true
Yes, it’s okay to hope
for freedom is free
Yes, it’s okay to love
for love can be true
71 SPOON CA
Restless, unable to sleep
Keys, bars, guns being racked
Year after year
Of steel kissing steel
Vegetation faces, lost faces
Tomorrow’s a dream
Yesterday’s a memory
Both a passing of a cloud
How I long
For the silence of a raindrop
Falling gently to earth
The magnificence of a rose
Blooming into its many hues
The brillance of a rainbow
When it sweetly lights up the sky
After a pounding rainfall
Picnics in a rich green meadow
We saw the beauty in butterflies
We made it our symbol
Tiny grains of sand
One hour glass
A tear that may engender
Love is now
There’s no beauty in cell bars
70 SPOON CA
We lock ourselves up
not because of the bars and
steel that surround us
not because life doesn’t bend
to our every whim
But because of the projections
We place onto our worlds
The judgments, the I can’ts
The trying to please everyone
while not pleasing ourselves
By seeking the beauty on the outside
that is surely within
For prisons are created internally
and are found everywhere
We allow unnatural and Unreal thoughts
to be our walls, our limits
Because of the dam we build to
stop the universal love, the light
It’s all within ourselves
this paradise you go to of beauty
There’s peace, where along with the
eagle you may soar
A place inside that was inspired
from the inner and above
which are one and the same
The world may not bend to
your every whim
But it will flow wherever you
want it to go,
where it’s supposed to go
There’s beauty in cell bars
69 SPOON CA
I dreamt about you once
when tiny raindrops cascaded across
the window pane
I dreamt about you once
when the snow-flakes covered the woodland
and made it too cold to go outside for weeks
I dreamt about you once
when the wind rushed through the aspens
and the tall grass grew to its fullest
I dreamt about you once
when I watched your crimson painted toes
like no others on tiny grains of sand
How long will I only be a few sheets
of paper, a stamp an envelope ?
How many more words must we share
Before I can see your smile — the way
Your lips part to speak: the way your hair
looks when touched by the wind…
How long will I milden in your past ?
When I look out, over the bay, every ripple,
Each wave is a thought, a sweet memory of you.
There are so many ripples, so many waves
The fragrance and taste of you is still in the air
The softness of your skin is still upon my fingertips
How many more nights sleepless and long
must I endure creating faces
and bodies that are not yours ?
68 MICHAEL TX
I could be vengeful
and feed my anger's hunger
But to uplift your consciousness
do I have to become a monster?
65 WILLIE TX
There is in me
A being little known
man or boy
that he is me
than the one
And that he
deserves at least
Before being sealed away
The public face
I am still a child
Thrilled by a sunrise
Touched by a bird-song
Delighted by a clown
Frightened by hatred
hurt by rejection
Sadden by pain
warmed by love….
64 WILLIE TX
I am not alone, although I feels it at times.
there are times when I think I am,
Feel like I am Alone and lost…
But as the river bends, and the drifting traveller
Sees the unfolding of new vistas,
New horizons, New landmarks, I find a new communion
with the turn of time, A new sense of Universal connection.
And then… One day in the spring of my life, the buds and blossoms appear,
I am alive, I am here, at least for now….
63 WILLIE TX
In my heart
Is the seed of the tree
which will be me
Nourished by understanding
Warmed by friends
Fed by loved ones
Matured by wisdom
Tempered by tears and years…
62 WILLIE TX
If the sun turns cold,
If the night is too dark,
long and lonely,
If your trust has been betrayed,
If dreams won’t come true,
When hope seem to crumble and fade to dust,
If your sadness leaves a void,
An emptiness which can’t be filled,
except by love,
61 RONALD FL
Sit back in here and hear my tale
Of what it´s like in a prison cell
A musky scent reminds of gent
A nine by six foot little cage
chains’ up frustration and a lot of rage
Twenty-four seven, three sixty five
Listening to all this jive
Bickering and arguing and some idiots trying to sing
the toilet flushes, a locker slams with a hard crush
Dudes get mad…
and baby all that steel makes a sissy bad
Peace and tranquility are things of the past
Now you can only try to laugh
One more day, another hour
Somehow try to find the power
Now that´s a degree of my tale
Of a little tiny prison cell
60 JEFF TX
Evil eyes watch you at all times of day
They watch you, intent on making you a victim of their hindered game
They are like a demon drawn to flame
They watch your fear drain from your eyes as you scream out in vain
They track you to serve a purpose in their life
It might be sexual, or painful to satisfy
The lust or sickness that´s deep embedded in their mind
They watch you tremble of fear, torture or death
It gets them off as you beg and beg until your dying breath
59 RONALD FL
Dreams come and dreams go
As I sit here on death-row
And getting old seems so fake
How much more can I take
My mind is starting to slip
And I keep trying to get a grip
But will insanity get the upper hand
and I wonder off to never Neverland
And this year I truly find
I don´t want to lose my mind
Behind these bars, I see no stars
I´m starting to lose our hope
And I am truly thinking about a rope
I sing and sleep and take a trip
Yes this cell is total hell
You have to be, to be so strong
Yet the days they seem so long
Can I take it? Will I make it?
These are questions that I ask
How much longer will I last.
58 RONALD FL
I was dealing drugs and hanging with thugs
I was just fifteen and in the drugs scene
I was high as a kite both day and night
I was quite wild but I was only a child
And troubles just seem to come my way
I was running into it everyday
And these sweet drugs will bring you too
For I was sitting on death-row at 22
Still looking for some residue
57 RONALD FL
I sit in a building called FSP*
Better known as “the green monster”
And it´s all I can see
In the belly of the monster
Life is just a blur
In the belly of the beast
Life is valued the least
At the south end of the monster
Sits a clinic for health care
At the north end of the monster
Sits the electric chair
Yet, this monster will discriminate
For money can determine, determine your fate
Now this monster has taken many a soul
Yet mainly for a politician, A politicians´goal
at all costs, Lives will be lost
in the belly of the beast, where life is valued the least
*Florida State Prison
56 RONALD FL
Sitting here on death row
Our time is surely running low
We all have to die one day
But why should it be this way ?
Let us die with dignity
Not in a room for all to see
With witnesses looking on
You take a life, like that's not wrong.
So you've killed to say killing isn't right
And still can't see anything wrong with this sight.
And then you ask why your kids are killing ?
Well, they just see the blood you're spilling
They are only doing the same
So you only have yourself to blame
55 RONALD FL
I´m kept in a cell like I got a disease
I put my suicidal thoughts in tendencies
For this here I often find
The suicide way on my mind
For I can´t see a whole lot of hope
So suicidal thoughts is the way I cope
Fear of death-row is just the unknown
know my fear is being left behind steel and stones
So at night I often, often pray
That death-row come, come today
And suicide won´t be my final way
If I´m kept in a cell like I got a disease
Slept with my suicidal thoughts and tendencies
54 RONALD FL
Paper wings and childhood dreams,
And life is never what it seems;
Seeing life through a child's eyes,
Paper wings and blue skies.
but at a tender, tender age,
We're taught to love and to hate,
Or even to discriminate.
And as we approach adolescence,
We see life in its true essence,
Death and devastation,
Or maybe experience molestation.
Changing views, changing thoughts,
Maybe even becoming distraught,
Broken promises, paper wings,
False hope of childhood dreams,
That's the way life truly seems.
53 RONALD FL
Razor wire fence
I’m held in suspense
Surrounded by concrete and steel
Held to surrender to your will
I await my fate
And now I must face
this execution date
Step off in a room
I feel the doom
And I look around
Just strapping me down
Strapped to a table
My last words will be heard
I will speak them loud
And hold my head, proud
And then I will say:
An eye for an eye,
a tooth for a tooth
But I´m here to share,
to share the truth
For this here I have no doubt
This is truly what it’s all about
An eye for an eye
America will cry
But I´m here to say
that´s a lie
For rich man will walk
And a poor man will die
And this we can´t deny
Nor can we justify
Worst of the worst
Yeah, maybe so
For it´s a lawyer who puts me
here on death row
Assigned by the state
To determine my fate
I was white trash
Just another junkie
That´s why they assigned me
A two-bit flunky
And I knew at frist glance
I didn’t stand any kind of a chance
52 RONALD FL
I’m strapped to a gurney
For my final journey
For the all to see
is what it will be
the liquid will flow,
through the IV below
My eyes will shut
My lungs will collapse
And my heart will burst
And my body will be driven off
In a pearly white hearse
In the name of justice
Is what they will cry
But the justice they seek
was nothing more than a lie
It was all quite phony
With false testimony
The trial was a sham
Wrap from the skank
The trial was a shame
Yes one big scam
Justice was denied
They took the wrong side
now as I am slaying
for their revenge and pain
one question you must ask
or maybe you´re not up to the task
of finding out that justice
justice was a lie
and yes, you killed, you killed, you killed the wrong guy
51 RONALD FL
I´ve seen grey skies
Tear drops and lies
The anguish and pain
Caused by cocaine
I´ve seen it done by Demerol
From the LSD and alcohol
Trying to escape life´s confusion
Off in a bottle, life feels the illusion
But we can´t truly escape reality
Through cocaine, weed or ecstasy
For it will never ever set us free
Yet, it will cause so much pain
And in the end, you´ll see it´s in vain
For drugs will lead you to a dead end Street
The prison, ghetto or death you will meet
And this is my contribution
To show you drug is not the solution