#prison poems on Hello Poetry

Ethan Moon Feb 2016

My mind is a totalitarian regime.

I build up walls, paranoia, panopticon. (And to me, Denmark is a prison.)

Keep the voices, the evils of the world out.

An ideology, power, purpose,

Convinces me of the diseases, the deviants,

That risks an illusion to be shattered.

I am my own dictator, hail.

I control words—words are power—

I write my own narratives, make my own excuses,

Create heroines and gods to populate the prison walls. (He was a son of God—a phrase which, if it means anything, means just that—and he must be about his Father’s business, the service of a vast, ******, and meretricious beauty.)

I rewrite constellations, make them smaller,

Build babels, buying more time.

I tell that amnesiac blackness: that it cannot hurt me; it can’t touch me.

Those labyrinthian libraries of sky charts and lovely flower dictionaries, rooms of polychromatic paintings, which I gathered with gayety as a child—I’m still a child—I haul into the fire,

Ignorant wretch.

We live a part of a global economy, where inclusivity and transparency criticize, perfect.

I can’t stand the critics, I cry, ******!,

Condemn them to death by a thousand cuts,

Slicing and dicing, I can hear their silent pleas,

They speak to me, You are loved, Let your family in, Please stop

Please please please stop please stop stop stop speak to please stop speak to me

Horrible hungry faces, they don’t cry as I peal skin from bone,

With shards I crush those voices, with glass, broken mirrors,

Me to speak stop please to speak stop stop stop please stop please please please

Break down the walls,

why should you die before your time?
An open market is prone to crisis,

These newcomers, it only takes one to break your heart.

Things with merit are gems; scarcity creates value.

Enjoy the labour of love and life, it is a gift of God,

Dance under pixel skies, they **** pride, ****,

Open the floodgates, the dictatorship crumbles and crumples under the weight of these tired eyes

That see light rushing out from the cell window as visions and vicissitudes

A cry from the streets outside

The end is nigh, Night is coming!

One cannot sleep with starry skies in the eyes.

Stay awake, because the guards are coming,

Remember—you are to be tried for warcrimes, hail.

You and me, we can shuffle off this mortal coil, our self slaughter a mere trifle

In this ocean of failed realties, as man to cosmos.  (All I want is blackness. Blackness and silence.)

Cause this flesh to melt I beg,

Keep cutting, smaller pieces,

No, the sunrises, it’s ****** and orange,

Citrus, it burns in these wounds,

I feel pain, I feel, warm with this ambiance,

A jacket to prevent morning chill, breathing wisps,

I don’t want to leave, I don’t want to die,

I don’t I don’t now don’t don’t don’t no I don’t want to leave no leave me

Wait!—

(Feb 7 2016)

#control #belief #paranoia #prison #ideology #totalitarian #warcrimes #amnesiac

Poetic T Feb 2016

Generations Sentenced From Birth

**** what was said, its what was known was a whole other story:

"Run their coming how much you got,

"I got fifteen clots left,
"How the fa-jesus is that gonna stop them,

"Improvising is the necessity of the moment,
"Now grab that gas bottle and traffic cone, hurry,

"You are one crazy ******* you know that,

He smiles and watch's as his friend plays tinkerer, he
Was called the tinker bell of improvising. Less the *******
Wings and smiles. I loved watching his thoughts as they
Always had a party trick sense of humor that played with
Those that were against us and our family. We had been
On the streets for at least for at least fifteen years running
Against those that were in this seeded state of imprisonment

"That's so messed up dude,

He laughs out loud at the thought of those playing the field.

"The streets are our weapon their sheep on our land,

Running to a secluded place darkness cleanses their view
From others prying eyes. You think there stupid enough
To fall for this ****? their is always one dopy *******.

"Here they come,

They see the funtarded plan that they left for those playing
Cat in a world of mice, but mice are smarter than others
Give credit for, "******* cat, "SSsssshhhhh,

The thugs speak to each other faces deserted in black.

"What the hell is this?
What is it? anything of importance?
"It looks like a Knock, Knock joke,
"Read it then you imbecile

"Knock, Knock,

"Who's there?

"Count to three,
1
2
.
.
.
.
.
"Aggghhhh,

Ambush is shouted around, all but two aren't caught
In what happened two moments before.

Two moments earlier
3??

"Gas is silent but deadly,
The one that smelt it dealt it?

What the **** is that meant to mean?

As an incendiary round is fired, figures they
Momentarily see,
With gleeful smiles and a middle index finger
****** in the air by both, and unheard words spoke
"**** all yaaaa,
All are engulfed in flame, screams are heard from the
Distance running in futile acts.

"Drop and roll,

These words of panic go unheard as if swatted
They each fall like wicks. They smoulder and then
Unused ammunition upon themselves like
Fire crackers go off. like jumping beans
Their frames jump up as appendages release
from their now flaming form.

"Run for cove.........,
"O ****, he just got to in the head,
"I don't get paid enough for this Fu.....,

One slug only used impressive is a thought,
His little playful tricks never cease to amaze,
Cadavers smouldering linger as they both
Look over amazed it worked.

"Now that's what I'm talking about,

As he walks over and does a midsection ******
"BANG,
As the air is clouded with profanities
"MOTHER F#CKER,
"JESUS ***#ING CHRIST,
"**** THE FU#KING BED,

"Hahahahaha,

"What's so funny,

"Its the Karma of the situation,
"He dealt it, you smelt it in the ****,

"That's so not funny my dairy-air kills,

"Dude you got a brown stain hahaha.....,
"**** the bed or your pants,

They walk away, well one walks the other hobbles.
I hate this place so much, god dam generation prison.
"What did we ever do?
"We were born dude,
They arrive at camp to eyes happy to see both
Alive and slightly well, curious looks
Gather at his reddish brown patch,
"He smelt it,
As giggles surround and he punches him in the arm.

"I'm never going to live this down am I dude,
"No,
"This is worthy of years of puns haha...,

They see their mother, a tattoo of shameful pride
Adorning her neck, so long ago given for
A crime of hunger to feed her first born.
But their was no cautionary words, but deployed
Into this state now walls elevated a half mile high.
Did the world still exist no one knew no one
Had been dropped in nine or ten years.
This place was a whole state enclosed, the
Worst and those of minimal crimes linger in
This place to survive is the only thing and not
Lose your humanity in the process.

"Hi my little ones,
"I see the journey was not with out incidence,

"It was a pain in the **** mum,
"Well his **** not mine,

"Mum tell him to stop it,

"Young man your brother is not the **** of all jokes,
"Ok maybe for the next few years give or take,

They walk off as the gates enclosing there camp
Though rusted keep outsider not wanted
Away from the peace now claimed in the enclave.

t

#life #death #family #brothers #prison #generation

Alex Hoffman Feb 2016

The Coin Toss

Nobody “breaks” out of prison. Steel bars are hard enough to bend. One escapes through careful planning—months of fierce attention to detail. Until one day, when the conditions are absolutely perfect. Then, one escapes by beating the system.  

One afternoon, while you are observing the doldrums of prison, someone will approach to offer you a key. “Only $5” they will say, “and this key will guarantee your escape. For it is a skeleton-key.” Now, there is an old saying that “If it’s too good to be true, then it probably is,” which is easy enough to say. But you have waited so many years in the colossal boredom and misery of prison. For $5, who knows—this key could guarantee your escape. What’s five dollars for the chance of escape? So you take the key, which turns out to be plastic, and immediately snaps in two inside the lock.

  Certain lessons in life stick, and this is not one of them. If you drive up to a red light, for example, your foot will naturally reach for the breaks. But this type of lesson has little to do with emotions.

  Bad days, on the other hand, will make the entire world feel hopeless and cruel. Even if yesterday had us believing in a world that is beautiful even when it’s ugly. On a bad day, there is no beauty at all.

  So, beating a bad day isn’t always about coming to a solution. Sometimes, it’s about endurance.   

When you’re upset, it isn’t just because things got heated with a friend, or because of failure, or an unusually cold week on your holiday leave. When you’re upset, it’s because you were put on this earth to be upset. If you need proof, walk outside and ask—you will never find a person who doesn’t know pain.

But there are two outcomes to every coin toss, and even then, it isn’t as if the other face has disappeared. It is only hidden from sight until the next time the coin is tossed. And though you may not see it, you know for certain that if you turn that coin over the opposite face will be there.  

This isn’t to say that our emotions are guided by the same lottery as a coin toss. Life, I hope, is full of choice and circumstance that exceed the simplicity of chance. But it is at least fair to say that, whatever the circumstances, you will outlive pain

…eventually.   

Sometimes you’ll have to endure many unlucky coin tosses. It will begin to seem as though they will all be unlucky.

But think hard—the other side is there.

  Escape is coming, but you can’t break the bars. So keep your eyes open. Be patient. Every day is a new toss: no matter where the coin lands, the outcome is yours.

A short musing on how to face life and its inevitable sadness.

#sad #depression #life #sadness #happy #funny #happiness #meaning #prison #humour

Anonymous Author Jan 2016

Lone Cell

As the ball hit the stone
The sound resonated
Throughout the room

I had already scratched
Another mark into the wall
To signify that
Another day had passed

But somehow
It felt like no time
Had passed at all

I was lonely
And every day
Felt like the same day
Because nothing
Ever happened

I'm just locked
Inside a room
And I'm alone

And I am lonely

I wish I could at least
Have some kind
Of company,
At least
So I wouldn't
Be alone

But sometimes
It's even too much
To ask
For something
Like that

#prison

Ciel Jan 2016

Prison

I bare such useless emotions:
Sadness,
Loneliness,
Annoyance,
Jealousy,
Boredom,
Emptiness,
This terrible feeling that I’m feeling right now,
This feeling that wants to rip me apart,
This feeling that’s clawing at me,
Tearing me to pieces,
Pulling at my flesh,
Pulling at my skin,
Pulling at my bones,
Trying to break me .
My soul wants an escape from this
Terrible
Useless
Useless
Useless
Prison that holds it captive.

#poem #depression #terrible #emotion #skin #prison #useless #pulling #tearing #captive

Sara Robinson Jan 2016

The prison of you

The day you told me you were free I found myself in captivity again
My mind and heart had finally become comfortable out of the cage that was you
And now they are right back in it, desperately fighting to be free again
When you were taken my mind didn't linger in the prison of possibilities
My thoughts were free to explore change,
My heart still ached from your scars,but it was healing.
Then you came and reopened every wound
With one look my walls fell to pieces
Everything I had built to keep me safe was destroyed in one embrace
With one "I missed you" I willingly walked back in
I knew the door would shut behind me never to open again
And yet I still walked in.
The prison of you had become my resting place
It was my identity,
It has been the only thing I've known for the last three years
Its where I've laughed and cried,
This place know my deepest fear,my biggest regret and my one true love...you
My fear is that you will never love me and that I will never love anyone else
My regret is falling for you to soon and maybe even wishing I hadn't fell at all
And my love is you
Everything about you
Your eyes, your smile, your laugh, your passions, your mistakes, your failures everything that makes you, you
You have my heart
And you know what they say home is where the heart is
So it looks like I'll be staying in this prison, with no hope of escape
And maybe someday my prince will come, but until then all I can do is love you

#love #desperation #prison

Dawn of Lighten Dec 2015

The Cruel Frailty of the Shielded Veil Upon the Eyes.

It's this migraine of swirling, or paused pulse in the head.
As if the revolution of earth is felt in much faster pace,
And only you are in this ride of earth farris wheel.

Are you alone in this darkness,
As if beneath the deep sea,
And striving desperately gasp to the surface to breath?

Those moments your beats stop in seconds,
but that second felt like a life span,
And you want to knock everything on the table to release your senses.

This desire to bash your head against a wall,
Until this pressure in your head halts,
And allow the circulation to resume with the flow of your blood?

Razor upon the skin to release senses of the nerves in this numb within,
Allowing your warm blood to flow,
And remind yourself you are alive?

In a brief moment of solitude,
As the midnight bring solace,
You allow yourself to dream?

I remember what it was like to be stuck in a personal bars against the walls,
And once I freed myself of the painful truth,
The walls that prisoned me was unbuilt and reassembled to my personal throne room.

So why build your dungeon, when you can build your villa?

#happiness #solitude #darkness #mind #prison #letting #cure #relinquish #freed #relive

Crystal June Dec 2015

Prison Break!

Today the demons are alive and well,
And I'm trapped in my personal Hell -
Pounding on the prison gates,
But no one answers and I fear it's too late.

If I couldn't save myself,
How are they supposed to?

Stuck here in this empty cell
That I sentenced myself to -
Locked my soul away so nobody could steal it,
But a soulless life broke my heart,
And now nobody could heal it.

No, didn't need a boy to break my ***** of a heart,
I did that myself when I locked up my soul
And threw away the key.

And now I'm crying for release,
Screaming, "Someone help me!"

When you lock away your mind
Trying to hide from the lies,
It's the truth you're sure to find.
But sometimes reality is just too **** real,
And sometimes you break your own heart.

You just gotta keep searching
For a way back out.

Prison break,
Break the gates
And embrace your fate.

And all the while please just know
For there to be a Hell on Earth,
There must also be a Heaven.

For Heaven's sake, let's rush those gates,
Escape the land of relentless self hate.
So sick of being a powerless inmate,
But it's what I get for pushing you away.

There I go again pushing myself back into the cell
That I know too well.
If this is Hell, dear Lord,
Where is my Heaven?

I can't find it -
I've been searching for years,
Yet hiding behind my fears,
And drowning in my countless tears.

Maybe I can cry my way out of this.
My soulless life, so lifeless
Even the guards have disappeared!
So why the **** am I still here?!

It's time for a prison break,
Break the gates
And embrace my fate.

And the whole time I'll remember
For there to be a Hell on Earth,
There must also be a Heaven.

Feeling like I don't deserve it -
Laying my dreams to rest
In a brutal death,
Won't pass this test.
I'm testing myself to see if I've grown comfortable
In my cell I know far too well -
Maybe this isn't Hell,
Maybe this was Heaven all along.

For I once told myself
The greatest joy in life is crying.
Well then why aren't I happy by now?

It's been so long that happiness is just a myth to me -
A bedtime story you tell yourself
While the monsters in the closet
And under the bed
And in your head
And your heart
Start to creep out to tear you apart.

But somehow I've made it out alive,
I'll hold onto my soul this time.

For I've broken the gates, and before it's too late
I'm on my way to find my heaven.

#hell #away #demons #mind #lock #heaven #locked #prison #monsters #gates

Nigel Finn Dec 2015

Imprisoning The Disillussioned

You ask what prison feels like;
Well basically, you see,
It's mostly just a bunch of rules
About where you should be,
And quite a lot of it's the same
As the things you do whilst "free".

It's about showing scraps of paper
If you want to travel far
(Much like passports), shown to men
Who don't know who you are.
(I know describing the next wing
As "far" may seem bizarre).

Then there's other scraps of paper,
Which decide what you should earn.
You get them by completing courses,
This encourages you to "learn",
And then you blow your weekly wages
On tobacco ("smokes" or "burn")

Which you can trade amongst the cellmates,
(Despite a watchful eye),
For illicit goods, or lend it out
And double your supply,
And all these things convinced me
You're just as free as I

It's just a case of space and time;
I can still pursue my art.
Whether or not you're caught for crime,
Freedom's only in your heart.
(And if you don't believe me read this rhyme
Again, back from the start.)

A poem I wrote to a friend whilst staying at her majestys pleasure.

#freedom #perspective #prison

Nigel Finn Nov 2015

Flowers In The Prison Yard

I had a dream last night
Where all the flowers in the prison yard
Had turned full bloom
The reflections from them turned walls bright
'Till I awoke to the cold, hard
Reality of my room

The small magic book that tells
The voices what to say to me
When we're alone
Can't conjure up the words for smells
Nor the sad, sweet beauty
Of missing home

I actually wrote this poem while I was in mental hospital. A few years later I actually ended up in prison. It sums up my experience in both quite well though. Trying to explain the emotions and feeling of either experience with my limited words was quite impossible in either case.

I intended it to try and describe how, no matter how low we feel our lives or thoughts have sunk, there is always a tiny flicker of hope among us, even if they're only contained in our memories and our dreams.

The original second line in the second stanza was originally "My cellmate what to say to me" in reference to a non-English speaker on my ward, who could communicate effectively only through a book of translations with the rest of the patients on our wing.

The rest of the poem is in its original form

#sad #home #flowers #dreams #beauty #reality #sweet #magic #prison #smells