I attended today a panel on poetry reflecting on incarceration.
From inside the wall, convicts write poems to breathe, they write for oxygen. Some are twenty years old and had been sentencing for life or more than twenty years. Some will never get out. Here are the words of Ben, James and others. From outside the wall, I share their struggles and suffering. The followings are their words. I share them in freedom and hope. I feel like a duty to do so.
Hopes dwindle, dreams fade
Pain inflicted, no one listens
Just icy stares.
No mercy, no forgiveness
No second chance,
Walks alone, dials but no one’s home
A prisoner’s stance
If Shoes Can Feel Shame from Ben:
Often when we feel shame, up is the last place we want to look. My shoulders, they slump, tilting my head and my gaze locking on my shoes. I don’t know if a pair of shoes can feel shame, if so mine have bore the brunt of it. I fear one day I will be a hunchback…
Vulnerability from Ben:
My heart is not bitter
In fact it’s broken
But I know what it means to be a man
Gentleness, integrity and love
Quiet strength, a father a husband a friend
These things make me a man