I'm alone and I'm feeling stuck I feel the weight of an elephant sitting on my chest and  the pressure is unbearable. I'm in a different place but I feel like I see the same faces. I feel like somebody is after me and wants to **** me but I feel like that person lives inside of me. My stomach hurts because the pressure is building so I let out a yell from the very bottom of it. I can feel a hot rush to my eyeballs as my brain decompresses. I can feel the pressure agai Yelling is the only thing that helps. Still, I grab the first thing that I see and I throw it, it just happened to be a backpack through a windshield with a laptop in it. I want to hurt everyone who's ever hurt me and then I realize it was me hurting myself this whole time so I inflict another wound upon myself.



How did I wake up in prison again today when in last nights dream I got so far away. I love running away in my dreams because though I know I should be tired I never run out of breath so I'm able to cover quite a bit of ground when I run away from this place in my dreams. I also like to  breathe underwater. Right before I went to prison I was still flying freely in my dreams I could literally run and jump and fly from place to place but after three years in, I can't seem to get off of the ground. I'm wondering if it's some subconscious thing going on.



The guards yells "stand by for chow!" With elongated syllables and his voice travels down the run with purpose. This old prison has the classic looking Steele prison bars you see in cartoons and movies growing up, it's actually quite eerie. I throw my sheet over my bed and tuck the blanket into the edges so it sits tightly around the mattress and fits snugly in the 6 foot steel soap container type mattress frame that is attached to the wall in a way that you can for this frame up and ******* to make your 6' x 9' space a little bit bigger . I only do this after I put my books in a stack at the end of it because they were spread out with no organization like sub group of war refugees. I turn off the TV, click the desk lamp,  press stop on my tape player, but I let the fan still run. I fold up the drawing I was working on into my dictionary of symbols along with a couple of the poems that were simultaneously being worked on - it's like I have to work on 10 different things at a time to keep my mind occupied. I'm stuck in the cell 23-24 hours a day with ADHD and I was the type of kid to wonder the city for 16 hours on my bike.  I like it because I feel like I'm getting good at 10 different things at once and though I know i it's pretty much impossible to focus on more than one thing at a time I set aside small focuses for each thing in bits and pieces and then go to the next thing, it's quite refreshing to be honest.



I throw some water on my face brush my teeth and I comb my hair back  after I put on a fresh T-shirt, some new pants and my new shoes . Even though I'm wearing all orange I want to look the best I can because it makes me feel good. On the walk to the chow hall we have to go down the stairs and central unit in Florence, Arizona. We all squeeze shoulder to shoulder on the tight run of cells and have to walk Down five flights of stairs and everybody is in a rush but still acting like there just walking casual it's pretty funny to see people do casual speed walks. Everybody's cracking jokes and excited because   Tonight we get pizza and we only get it a couple times every six weeks for they have the menu on a six week schedule. It might taste a little bit cardboardy but who cares it's been years since we've actually had a real slice.  And if you bring some salsa with a little bit of your own cheese you can actually fix the pizza up to where it's quite delectable.  



We pass through the old metal doors and you could fill the air blow from above where the door fan is. As I walk into the chow hall, I can feel tension among the other inmates - it feels like when the lowest frequency on a sound scale with a bass comes in really deep at the bottom of your stomach and a high pitch of the top of your ear that is out of tune and doesn't sit well. You can always tell when something is about to happen because everybody gets quiet and you can feel it in your stomach it's almost like the same feeling of fear and anxiety because the guy who's going to get gotten never knows it's him. I give the guard my last name and I get in line to get my pizza. The food trays come out of the hole in the wall  pretty fast -  inmates that work inside of the kitchen have this down to a science and their muscle memory and pattern recognition is that of an expert sous chef.   Pizza corn jello and a cup for the potent artificially sweetened juice they give us. I'm going to sit down in the middle tables because they have the tables sectioned off for people of different color the white boys sit with them white boys the black people sit with the black people usually closest to the door. The paisas (Mexican national)  sit with each other, the Chiefs have their own tables among  the Mexican Americans. I never sit closest to the wall because if you sit at the back table closest to the wall that means you're striving to have prison political ties and that is something that never interested me because though I am doing five years that is still a temporary stay and I did not want to join a prison gang. But when you're on the higher yards like central unit everybody is pretty much down for the cause so sometimes I will sit back there with homies. Once seated I grab my squeeze cheese from my right pocket, bite a  small piece of the corner off the packet and and squeeze it onto my pizza. I  also apply  some hot sauce and I get o have my friends pizza because he owed me from last nights 49ers game with a bet he lost. This story was probably believable up until the point I said the 49ers won.



while all this is happening in the back of my mind I know something is about to pop off because I could feel it in my stomach. once you know you're good then you're good as far as not being the one about to get stabbed or stomped on but there is always a lingering thought in the back of my head like I hope it's not me that they're about to get. I know it wasn't going to be a prison riot because we all would have known we all would've been prepared with knives ready.



I started eating. Yup cardboardy. Now a little bit faster because my gut told me something was about to pop off and about 3/4 through my second piece of pizza I heard it.



Attacks are usually really quiet in prison usually you hear the stomping of feet, grunting and groaning or slamming against walls so you can feel the wall shake. unless the person that is getting attacked by anywhere from 1 to 4 people starts screaming for his life and begging the guards for help.



This particular attack started with hoofbeats feet on the ground and punches landing and struggling breathing heavy and grunting. You never really want to look directly at what's going down because you don't want to draw attention to the situation or yourself if the guards aren't  paying attention. Attacks like this committed in the middle of a chow hall typically indicate that the person being attacked has to go and is no longer allowed to stay in the general population with us.



I'm Going to say which particular race or who was attacking who because specifics can get a little bit sticky if you are journaling your experience I would hate to offend any particular race or be considered a snitch. three men were stopping another man and it happened really quick. I didn't realize that they had knocked him unconscious and he was breathing really heavy and snoring as if he were dreaming of a beautiful place and had a stuffy nose at the same time.



In what seems like is forever or at least a really long time only just a few seconds have gone by before you hear the guards rushing in. four now eight now twelve guards with fire extinguisher sizes Mace cans, Spraying the men on the face both attackers and victim.



It's crazy because when you're in a room and they use those mace canisters on one person in the whole entire room gets clouded with Mace or Pepper spray  and everybody goes down on the ground and  starts clinching their throats and gasping for breath. some men cannot bear it,  though they typically don't die it seems like they're right on the edge of their last ****** breath.



I just felt bad for the person who didn't get their pizza in time because they're  going to be hungry while we're  all locked down until  the situation re-centers itself. then again the other part of me was a bit jealous because I'm sure the Mace served as a hot sauce and they got to enjoy a little bit of that.  



As I lay dying, I put my face in the ground in my arms and take the smallest breaths possible because it feels like I can survive these breaths and when you breathe deep it stings so bad that you can't help but to gasp for air and cough and perpetuate the struggle.



  I drift off to the beach... Here I am with my feet in the sand at the ocean. I hear seagulls flying above overhead and their calls are panning from left to right like the cleanest headphones you've ever heard. I can hear the waves crashing in and I can feel the sea breeze on my face.  it's one of those days when it's not too hot out but you feel good in the sun with the cool wind on your skin just enough to add A balance. Kind a like a sweet and salty sensation. I love this.



I'm really thankful because last time they maced the whole group it was inside of our living space and we had to sit there for 2 hours and cough but it was only the first 45 minutes or so that felt unbearable. The first time I got maced or actually experienced mace in a really bad way it was when they maced my neighbor inside of the shower because he didn't want to get out of the shower and I thought I could be tough and not feel the effects that much and I was eating crackers while I could smell the mace entering my nostrils. A few seconds later I was on the ground holding my throat because I felt like I was going to die and I couldn't even swallow the crackers I was gasping for air and hating God for this pains existence.



Now again we rise  up on our feet moving back to the run  where our cells are located and I can tell that a lot of the people who have been in prison for a long time who are not in the political movement Are really upset by this because they just want to do the rest of their life inside of these bars at peace.

Naked body scanners
Internal checkpoints
Peaceful protesters maced
GMO unlabeled
Depopulation through vaccination
Half of America under sedation
..I can barely stomach today's headlines

imagine being told you cannot walk through a hospital’s emergency room.  
imagine having to document an itch as if it’s where your body resides.

recommend 2013 titles in **** romance 2013.
attach a ****** to a person whose ****** gets maced for drug smuggling.

I saw you on the news again, aiming lies at civilians
You work like a serf to abhor the herd, which was merged by Lords to bore and encore, like a trap door in a dungeon.
What you earth and managed has got me famished, like the dense or pretentious, the meek and the senseless
And type endings to the finest that cry less, the winos that digress, or the shyest who digest
The plate which was purchased, paid to feed liars by the loudest were poisoned by us rebels running incense to the proudest.
Violently passive when distracted, these masses wreck havoc to have their heads handed to them
Sullen sweet to deter, you lure and reserve what is versed or inferred or implied or implored
Like the goodbyed or complied or the ladies waiting with lunacy lining their luxury gowns
Your disheveled and neat demanding appearance has me locked down with pirates and principle pilots
Dulled sick, they spy less, echo with insist, enlist and exist
As terrorists and presidents
Marked with malice making misfits that were mocked and disgraced, maced or laced by daydreams and magicians to assist beggars behind blueprints constructing islands
Which make slaves in to riots that capture journalists under wide tense
To suspend or impend doom sent hell bent by your priestess
You conduct chaos with fast hints, but quit slow when engaged with your conscience
Touched by divine tricks
Decided and destined, best in business
Prince of the wise man
Captain of the compassionate
Comrades with the crack heads singing anthems in kingdoms
We are heartbreakers painting bad graffiti

i must tell you of this curse
that's intertwined in every verse
magnets compel, repel, and foretell
it doesn't matter if you are well

you'll always be attracted
***-yd, divided, and subtracted
resisting an instinctual urge
to give your everything, to splurge

call it north, call it south
but the words slip out of your mouth
your heart will be drawn-in
hopeless, head over heels spin

laced, maced, even some space
you can't resist that face
heaven, hell, or whatever you believe
it's stronger than we can possibly conceive

time out... time in!
how did this begin?
a chemical reaction
a little bit of passion
that just rushed in...

1.  If you aren't moving your hands while telling a story, it's a boring ******* story.  Add in something to make it exciting, like a chance encounter with a tiger.  So what if no one believes that tigers walk down 5th avenue, at least your story doesn't **** any more.  You know whose story ***** now?  That ******* who doesn't believe a tiger can make it in the big city.

2.  Make bad mistakes every once in awhile.  How will you know that you don't want to be part of a Colombian Drug Cartel unless you try it out for a few weeks?  Who knows, maybe you'll find out it's your true calling.  Maybe you'll stage a coup, take over the whole thing and get the hot girl in the red dress.  But no, you're sitting at your computer reading this.  My point is, drugs are bad ok?

3.  Don't be that guy who thinks he's better than everyone else because he always "does the right thing".  You know why he's never made a mistake?  Because he doesn't have a real life.  His life is as real as a Ken Doll's unmentionables.  Yeah it's all smooth and shiny, but he can't have any fun with it.  What's the point of  having a life that can't be potentially ruined by terrible decisions?

4.  Take chances.  and I don't mean by putting "Piccolo Pete's Face Burning Tabasco" on your hotdog.  I mean walk up to the next girl you see and give her a passionate kiss the likes of which she hasn't had since 3 days ago when she drunkenly made out with some random dude at a bar.  Yeah, you may feel like you've just been kneed in the groin and/or maced multiple times in the eye...but you know what?  You just made out with a beautiful woman, and you've got a good lawyer.

5.  Don't take advice from people you don't know.  Especially some random person on the internet, those people are just shady.

Their wars are small, petty, and grey.
I was subjected to a dialogue;
a war story.
Side A walked to Side B's kingdom
to fight them. Side B formed a plan.
Side B sent one person to confront Side A.
She maced them.
In their faces. In. Their. Faces.
Her offense was successful.
I heard this story from Side A.
All I wanted to ask was,
"Why fight them in the first place?".
Why should I feel empathy; that they wanted to
initiate violence instead of dialogue,
and ended up getting outsmarted.
What was the alternative?
A fistfight, and now injuries that can't be fixed?
Who ever learns from the mistakes of violence?
Someone calls my love,
"A stupid white ***** who
needs to learn to keep her mouth shut",
and I can't tell her not to carry a knife.
In all my need for logic, even as a pacifist...
Now, I take what little money I have
and I buy her a canister of
mace.
Men are afraid women will undercut their power
or make a fool of them.
Women are afraid men will ****** them.

There is no colour in your cell
and there's a reason for the smell.

There is no rain which you can taste.
Spit it out, or you get maced.

There is no walking on the grass
bend over, smile and kiss my ***.

There is is no living in a tree.
My books, my laws, no mystery.

You were not raised to be a bird,
you, are a member of the herd.

There is no wingspace in the sky.
You work, you ****, you die.

And you, you have no use for a guitar,
you are a peasant, not a Czar.

There is no colour in your cell.
It is supposed to rhyme with hell.

There is a reason for your cage.
There is a reason for your rage.

Feeling like I was never understood
But, when I take a step back it all looks so good
Not talking about you, baby, I promise
Just feeling like someones got me on this train headed in one direction,
No exceptions
Trying to wrap the theory around my head that you would choose me instead.
So crazy, all the things you do for me.
I take a step back so I can finally see.
Daydreaming about your face,
But, then again, my feeling of understanding has been misplaced
And I'm looking over my shoulder trying to figure if, myself, I had disgraced.
Eyes like they've been maced,
Minds' been laced with the toxic fear of the past,
Don't worry
These feeling never last.
They just hide so deep.
So to removal is almost impossible.
I get lost, ya' know?

Just go with my flow.
I'm so **** tired of trying to read into the emotions
Krakens in my oceans have me exposing things I shouldn't be exposing
Getting down to the beats in my head;
They'll keep me dancing until I'm dead.
Or so It's been said

Back to business
I must confess I find nothing more intoxicating than this.
"Grooooooove with me." ;)

Heavy was the globe, until the glove hit
Found himself entangled in a handlebar flip
Iron in the taste, ****** waste
Continuum drawn back on a meaningless quip

Unsteady footing reminiscent of preschool days, snorting paste
Zebra striped mockery, paid off the books; his vision’s been maced
Early end to prolonged exposure, he tries to bait
Steady eyed denial approaches with haste

The monetarily gorged rule keeper entangles in debate
Opponent grows weary appearing irate
He recalls the words in a blank cheque written by a weak frame
A levelling blow leaves his opponent in a blank state

World weary and star struck to blame
All in pursuit of everlasting fame

This is my lesson taught
If you give your all I think you ought
To be careful or be left with naught
Take the ride once tickets bought

You may be given so much affection
But keep a guard up for protection
Elseways you'll be left with perplexion
And a hard realisation of disconnection

Be sure to carefully evaluate
Before you decide to perpetuate
Others show counter to what they insinuate
Because feelings are hard to excavate

When you give so much time it could be left for waste
Even though you try you'll be left faced
With the sense your heart has been maced
So heed my warning and keep some of yourself encased

Stumped by Trump Crooked Hillary Clinton is Smitten!
teeth marks on her *** right where she was Bitten,

She tried to lie she tried  some  cheatin' She must have been high to not see the beatin"

From Queens our New President Hails,He knocked the Clinton Train Right off its rails!

Jill Stein In Mind to  recount this Election,Hillary too drunk to  give a concession,supporters report her angry in a RAGE,half her staff she violently berated,In the end Hillary was sedated!

In tears her fears all came to light,Trump congratulates her for one hell of a fight,on Election night America was made Right to  the left,an end to the theft of all our security Immaturity!! Soon to be jailed for her  perjury Dr Trump conducts a much needed surgery.

A fair Election with no deception Trump Chumped them all and now we watch as they fall,In the streets snowflakes Protest UNREST I detest the Nest That Soros Built with no guilt of the effect..America Wrecked for a Dollar people Shout and Holler NOT MY President The scent of RAGE running through their veins A shame in our streets Not Accepting her defeat!


Trump hooks up  a pump and does not refrain to Dems disdain he flips ON the switch and begins to Drain this *****.In a ditch without a hitch WE can all see her itch and twitch  with so much Hate.Worse then her pivots in the Debates. IRATE!!! Right off her Plate Trump sat down and ATE!

He took down Hillary! Like a Killer he slapped off that pilary on her face  DISGRACED! Maced in the face Burns to the Taste!She is cold and she Might be Bitter.Trump doesn't care he Continues to TWITTER!

Gowdy is still Rowdy and I dont think he will fail on his quest to put Hillary in jail.Trump says theres other things to do  but thanks for your Blessins' and then  he hired Jeff Sessions.No cards on the table no one is able to see What the Donald will do.Up his sleeve he wont leave it alone  Shes ******! You can believe it its TRUE!

: The Donald!
Stumped by Trump Crooked Hillary Clinton is Smitten!
teeth marks on her *** right where she was Bitten,
She tried to lie she tried some cheatin' She must have been high to not see the beatin"
From Queens our New President Hails,He knocked the Clinton Train Right off its rails!
Jill Stein In Mind to recount this Election,Hillary too drunk to give a concession,supporters report her angry in a RAGE,half her staff she violently berated,In the end Hillary was sedated!
In tears her fears all came to light,Trump congratulates her for one hell of a fight,on Election night America was made Right to the left,an end to the theft of all our security Immaturity!! Soon to be jailed for her perjury Dr Trump conducts a much needed surgery.
A fair Election with no deception Trump Chumped them all and now we watch as they fall,In the streets snowflakes Protest UNREST I detest the Nest That Soros Built with no guilt of the effect..America Wrecked for a Dollar people Shout and Holler NOT MY President The scent of RAGE running through their veins A shame in our streets Not Accepting her defeat!
Trump hooks up a pump and does not refrain to Dems disdain he flips ON the switch and begins to Drain this *****.In a ditch without a hitch WE can all see her itch and twitch with so much Hate.Worse then her pivots in the Debates. IRATE!!! Right off her Plate Trump sat down and ATE!
He took down Hillary! Like a Killer he slapped off that pilary on her face DISGRACED! Maced in the face Burns to the Taste!She is cold and she Might be Bitter.Trump doesn't care he Continues to TWITTER!
Gowdy is still Rowdy and I dont think he will fail on his quest to put Hillary in jail.Trump says theres other things to do but thanks for your Blessins' and then he hired Jeff Sessions.No cards on the table no one is able to see What the Donald will do.Up his sleeve he wont leave it alone Shes ******! You can believe it its TRUE!

It’s time to fire up my blog
and add to the poetic smog.
Marching thus, to April’s drum
may cause my muse to pause, mid-strum
and harp on my poetic lack
of will toward permanent attack.
Didactic, though, I strive to be;
And write with pure sincerity.

I’ll do my best to rail, and preach
and by such arts, some poor soul reach
assuring them they are not mad
but yes, the world IS worse than bad.
I’m sorry that I lack the power
to versify upon a flower.
(Leave that for some other, later
blithe pathetic poetaster.)

Where’s my muse?
(They must have maced her.)

The voices in the mind are a poison,
Internalized oppression taking away what was not already stolen.
The voices seep in, even when I be dozing.
Becoming a nightmare turned reality,
No wonder why I’m broken.

The hatred pierces the veil,
Cross bearing down, grab the nails!
A savage that must be kept sterile.
Internal sin got me feeling like the devil!
Drinking fire water by the barrel.
Thorns digging into the brain, father I’ve failed.
Feel like I’m in a spiral about to go down in flames like I’m Spyro.
The angry be boiling, got me toiling, off the rail.
Lost without morals, feeling as useless as a broken arrow.
Spear slides in the ribs, got me pale.
Bleeding out, pleading out, faith is frail.
Drowning in the deep, bought to exhale.
Grasping, begging, as onlookers watch me flail.
Arms spread out like a scale.
Will I prevail or Peril?

The voices in the mind are a poison,
Internalized oppression taking away what was not already stolen.
The voices seep in, even when I be dozing.
Becoming a nightmare turned reality,
No wonder why I’m broken.

Spat in the face because of my race.
Jeered by people that never had a taste.
Never had to risk, never had to face.
Trauma that is interlaced.
With people being murdered or go missing without a trace.
Jeered by people that never had their history erased.
Who always had a place, always had a plate.
Have you even seen the over representation rates?
For goodness sakes!
Told to get over it as we are getting maced.
Told to get over it as we are being disgraced.
Told to get over it as we are being *****.
With the inner voice becoming internalized hate.
And toxic cycles not hitting the breaks.
Simply because people aren’t willing to embrace!
Simply because religious zealots convinced society that we aren’t loved by Christ.
To those religious zealots I say; you obviously don’t know **** about Christ!

The voices in the mind are a poison,
Internalized oppression taking away what was not already stolen.
The voices seep in, even when I be dozing.
Becoming a nightmare turned reality,
No wonder why I’m broken.

A rogue word in the
mode of persuasion, had
indefatigability.

When you are maced,
signs stop coming.

Jupiter was ready for
the collision, before you arrive
in dark, sky.

The rapture of the end
will not happen, till you
jump in the blood pool.

The mystery was
tangled up. Why would
you not climb down the stairs?

It still haunts,
The arms of ******* were growing,
and I had started to shrink.

A secretive and charming mistress, I'm amused by the sudden introduction life has given me, this new found beauty grant granted me unfounded liberties.

Gleaming eyes and nocturnal love,
her smile, her stare, her hair, her style, she is sunbathing me with boundless possibilities.

My first induction from the heart was underwriting tremendous risk, but the alluding truth blocked my mental capabilities.

Sandwiched between previous grief and future wishes, the blissfulness moving forward within a spectre of this sentry invited her within all my facilities.

Once intertwined I felt shivers down my spine, a darkness found in a 100 year old haunted house, I'm alarmed to her mentally drowning disabilities.

I'm in love with a darkness consumed in misery, downed by trauma she wants to conduct all of her liabilities.

Bonded to consume all her pain I'm in too deep, what I found in the beginning is all I remember, so I suppress my gut and follow blindly to heal and repair all of these twisted impossibilities.

Leaving everything gained in fame I play her game, echo less calls from the outside world cannot come in, I'm in too deep, I'm here to heal the devil of all her insecurities.

I plead dear Agony, please listen to me, understand your no longer in captivity, I will fill all of your cavities, you just have to follow me, please.

Reminiscing previous lessons learned to lost souls circling addictions, remembering trials of false triumphs to careless positivists, she craves the devil be fed inside mirroring darkened amenities.

I'm still here, I'm trying my hardest and the lurking stalking talking in circles inside these ****** walls block any sense of reality, unsure how I'm now here surrounded by negativities.

The dead end circle tunnel syndrome drove me to insanity, blushed heart and scorned mind with a spirit lost in time, I'm gaining experience in the antagonizing and tormented infinities.

Looped with a helping hand smacked, I'm belated and feeling erased, all of my emotions are now uppercased,
soon this will all end, I pray this is my fate, but not a possibility.

There's only one hope to bring this cycle to an end, a new life by souls split indifference, this will end by fertility.

The calming soothing nurturing wonderful sensual belated to now be related and infatuated we created a new song in life, now the fog of war is gone, nothing is wrong because I'm gaining visibility.

Holding a newborn the puzzle fits, but to her it's a chance to forget, it's back of her mind just above the neck of the woods, the reptilian brain takes over, the disease brought back volatility.

The anger makes her spirit skip, I can't speak past the quiver in my lip, now the puzzle doesn't fit, strong willed all along I still won't quit, I let the darkness drench my spirit, I let the devil french kiss, but this new seed will remain in tranquility.

Now I'm shamefully alone with growing grace, to protect this hope just alive after being maced, extinct inside by broken dreams I carry this new bloom, realizing I'm now tasked with protection to her I reel into acceptability.

I could have not left hell sooner for I tried to give chase, chase of a ghost who brings hell, hell where I'm enslaved, enslaved by broken bonded chains, chains to the mind internally insane, insane I didn't see the truth, truth to let her go, go away with my helpless little child, child to now grow very strong, strong because I'll forever show her true responsibility.