by Deanna Thompson
Raised on 900 acres in the head of a hollar. Wow, what a wonderful life. Indian burial grounds, caves with carvings on the walls, moss-covered rocks, fresh spring to drink from, copperheads and rattle snakes, lots of animals. We had horses which were used to go into the mountains and herd the other livestock in. We had goats and sheep to keep the mountains ate down. They were great bush hogs. Goats' milk was also very good for sick people and animals. There was one ram, and when I say ram I mean he had curled horns and he was mean. When you seen him coming in you stayed out of the way really. Getting hit by him once was enough.
We also had domestic hogs and razorback hogs. We built a pen across the creek for the razorback. Boy, they were mean. That way they had a constant supply of water. They were the ugliest animals I have ever seen. The regular hogs of course were used for eating. When we would kill hogs we would do three at a time. We had a little log smoke house and every part of the hog was used for something. We made sausage out of the tongue, brains, and some other parts. Believe it or not we even used the testicles, that was my grandfather's favorite part. The pork rinds were my favorite and of course the bacon and ham still is today.
Chickens, turkeys, guineas and pheasants were also on the farm. Once a month we would kill 10 chickens. We would ring their neck and them em under a bucket, put a rock on top so they didn't knock it over. When they were done flopping we would pluck the chickens. We kept all the underbelly feathers for mattress tops and pillows. They couldn't have lond ends because it would poke through the fabric. Throw the rest over the creek bank. Then we would scorch the bird. That means burn off the skin of the bird before you clean it. Then you would have to cut its head off, gut it, and cut it up, bag em and freeze em.
The cows were pretty much like the hogs. We would hang em in the smokehouse after they were gutted. The brains, heart, liver, and extras were once again used to make sausage. One thing that was different with hogs were we made hog hocks or pickled pigs feet.
Then there was the chores! Lots of em. I would get up when it was still dark out, eat breakfast, go to the barn, feed all the animals, put the horses on the run, let them out to the right pasture, go home, wash up, and get ready for the day of school. After school chores, garden work, homework, then on my horse I would go til it was bed time.
I loved sitting in the middle of the creek at the ol' swimming hole! It was a 3 to 4 ton rock in the middle of the creek with a big swimming hold at the bottom. We would run, belly-dive and go allt he way to the bottom in the pool of water! It was awesome. The rocks were so slick from the water running over them all the time. It is the best slip-n-slide ever!
My Mamma would say, "Baby, get the jugs and go get us some water." Sometimes she would mean from the spring and sometimes from the well out front. It was an old rock well that had a rope bucket and pulley. Awesome now that I think about the way I was raised.
I have hated milk for all my life. Like I said our cows grazed the mountainside. On the mountainside was wild onions. Guess what the milk tasted like? Have you ever had cereal and onion? Gross, let me tell ya. Needless to say I'm not fond of milk by any means.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
First Bad Memory
by Summer Jaynes
I'm at my father's house with my two half-sisters. I'm four, they are a few years older. It's night time. My dad is drunk, I can tell by the way he's slurring his words and talking mean to my step-mother. My dad is 6'2'', 200 pounds, black hair and eyes. My step-mother is bleach-blond, 300 pounds, 5'7''. He's yelling at her, she's crying. The house smells like old bear and cigars, me and my sisters are hiding in my room. We hear them fighting. Now I hear thumps on the wall and she's screaming. I open the door and see my father's angry eyes full of hate. He's dragging her by the hair to his room. She has blood all over her shirt and is screaming, "No Bobby please!" I shut the door and start crying. My sisters are crying also. There's more thumps and screaming from behind the closed door. After a while it's dead quiet. I think it's been hours now, maybe they are asleep. We come out of the bedroom and start picking up the ash trays and other things that was knocked over in the living room. We put a movie on and make a palit*. I go use the bathroom and I see my step-mother crying at the sink. I walk around her and use the bathroom. She's washing her face, there's dried blood. "Come here, Summer." I come and she holds me and just cries. She then goes to her room and shuts the door. I run down the hall and get under the covers and watch the movie with my sisters. Later we all fall asleep. I wake up scared. I think I see someone in the window, it's the monster or the devil. I don't want to wake daddy and I know my sisters can't help. I run to the phone, I only know one phone number, my Grandma's. I call her, she's hoarse, you can tell I woke her. I cry into the phone and tell her the devil is outside, I see him poking in the window. I'm crying hysterically now, trying to be quiet so I don't wake no one. My Grandma tries to soothe me. She tells me to get a Bible and open it to any page. I do also get a pillow so I can lay by the phone. She talks to me and calms me down, telling me no one can hurt me. I must fall asleep like this because I wake up in the morning to the phone buzzing.
I'm at my father's house with my two half-sisters. I'm four, they are a few years older. It's night time. My dad is drunk, I can tell by the way he's slurring his words and talking mean to my step-mother. My dad is 6'2'', 200 pounds, black hair and eyes. My step-mother is bleach-blond, 300 pounds, 5'7''. He's yelling at her, she's crying. The house smells like old bear and cigars, me and my sisters are hiding in my room. We hear them fighting. Now I hear thumps on the wall and she's screaming. I open the door and see my father's angry eyes full of hate. He's dragging her by the hair to his room. She has blood all over her shirt and is screaming, "No Bobby please!" I shut the door and start crying. My sisters are crying also. There's more thumps and screaming from behind the closed door. After a while it's dead quiet. I think it's been hours now, maybe they are asleep. We come out of the bedroom and start picking up the ash trays and other things that was knocked over in the living room. We put a movie on and make a palit*. I go use the bathroom and I see my step-mother crying at the sink. I walk around her and use the bathroom. She's washing her face, there's dried blood. "Come here, Summer." I come and she holds me and just cries. She then goes to her room and shuts the door. I run down the hall and get under the covers and watch the movie with my sisters. Later we all fall asleep. I wake up scared. I think I see someone in the window, it's the monster or the devil. I don't want to wake daddy and I know my sisters can't help. I run to the phone, I only know one phone number, my Grandma's. I call her, she's hoarse, you can tell I woke her. I cry into the phone and tell her the devil is outside, I see him poking in the window. I'm crying hysterically now, trying to be quiet so I don't wake no one. My Grandma tries to soothe me. She tells me to get a Bible and open it to any page. I do also get a pillow so I can lay by the phone. She talks to me and calms me down, telling me no one can hurt me. I must fall asleep like this because I wake up in the morning to the phone buzzing.
First Memory
by Summer Jaynes
I believe I was four-years-old.
I was at my Grandma's house, it was a sunny afternoon, there was a breeze. I'm climbing a cherry tree she has in her yard. "Pick the dark red ones, Summer. Do you know which ones are red?" "Yes!! Just like your favorite bird right Grandma?" "Good job."
I look down and see my Grandma standing there in shorts and a T-shirt. She's a heavier woman, her long black hair is flowing in the air. Her smile is so kind and her black-brown eyes are full of love. I look back at the cherries and start picking them, putting them in my sack. I eat some of them and I hear my Grandma laughing her heartfull laugh. "Summer, don't eat them all, you'll get a stomachache. You want a pie, don't you sweetie?" I just laugh and keep picking them til my sack is full. Then we walk in the house and wash them in the sink. I pull a chair up to the counter so I can watch her make the pie, stealing cherries while she's getting things ready.
I believe I was four-years-old.
I was at my Grandma's house, it was a sunny afternoon, there was a breeze. I'm climbing a cherry tree she has in her yard. "Pick the dark red ones, Summer. Do you know which ones are red?" "Yes!! Just like your favorite bird right Grandma?" "Good job."
I look down and see my Grandma standing there in shorts and a T-shirt. She's a heavier woman, her long black hair is flowing in the air. Her smile is so kind and her black-brown eyes are full of love. I look back at the cherries and start picking them, putting them in my sack. I eat some of them and I hear my Grandma laughing her heartfull laugh. "Summer, don't eat them all, you'll get a stomachache. You want a pie, don't you sweetie?" I just laugh and keep picking them til my sack is full. Then we walk in the house and wash them in the sink. I pull a chair up to the counter so I can watch her make the pie, stealing cherries while she's getting things ready.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Reality Kicks In
by Isaac Pena
(Editor's Note: Isaac is one of our former students who is now in prison. He wrote this from the holding facility, where prisoners are sent while it is being decided where they will ultimately go to prison for the long term.)
I am sitting in Plainfield, Indiana, listening to murderers, thieves, and gang bangers talk and scream about gang politics, prisons, and sentences. And here I am a first-time felon sentenced to 14 1/2 years staring out of a window with steel bars all over it looking at the first sunset I've seen in 15 months. It's so beautiful! I thought my transition point in my life was 15 months ago when I got booked into county jail, but here I sit wanting to be someone, a contributor to society. I want the precious privilege that I took for granted for so long and what a lot of people are taking for granted right now...
Freedom...
(Editor's Note: Isaac is one of our former students who is now in prison. He wrote this from the holding facility, where prisoners are sent while it is being decided where they will ultimately go to prison for the long term.)
I am sitting in Plainfield, Indiana, listening to murderers, thieves, and gang bangers talk and scream about gang politics, prisons, and sentences. And here I am a first-time felon sentenced to 14 1/2 years staring out of a window with steel bars all over it looking at the first sunset I've seen in 15 months. It's so beautiful! I thought my transition point in my life was 15 months ago when I got booked into county jail, but here I sit wanting to be someone, a contributor to society. I want the precious privilege that I took for granted for so long and what a lot of people are taking for granted right now...
Freedom...
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Home
by Megan Slone
Beep. Beep. Beep. I reach over and slap the alarm clock. It's six a.m. and time to start getting the family around for church. I look over at my husband snoring soundly next to me and wonder how on God's green earth he manages to sleep through that beeping every morning. Then I receive a swift kick to the bladder. "I know," I say, "I'm going." I throw the blankets off and roll my very pregnant self out of bed and waddle to the master bath.
After using the restroom, brushing my teeth and washing my face, I head down the hall past the new nursery, to the second bedroom. The door is open just a crack, enough to poke my head in and peek at my beautiful baby girl Brooklyn. She is getting so big, it's hard to believe she turns three in June. All I can see is her bouncy red curls falling crazily around her angel face. Off to the kitchen, I walk past the guest room down the stairs and through the living and dining room. I start the coffee pot and sit down to stare out the window, it's going to be beautiful out.
***
"Chow!" My eyes open instantly. "Great, another sleepless night," I mumble to myself. I sit up and get off my flat ass mat I call a bed and walk to the line of half asleep women just to hear them griping about the break-your-teeth-out cereal we're having again. I grab the nearest seat after I make my way through the line. I open my bowl to find out they must have ran out when they got to my bowl cause it's only half full. "Ugh, why do I even bother?" I force my way through every bit, hoping I don't chip a tooth again and throw my bowl in the tote.
I go back to the bunk I call home and lay down. After tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable I come to the conclusion that I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep with everyone else wide awake. So once again I get up, I grab my mug and pour some freeze dried instant coffee bullshit in and head to the hot pot praying that it has hot water or water period. After getting my coffee I go sit down at the picnic table and look up towards our family skylight which is really just a whole in the roof with a piece of plexi glass and metal bars covering it and wonder what it looks like outside.
Beep. Beep. Beep. I reach over and slap the alarm clock. It's six a.m. and time to start getting the family around for church. I look over at my husband snoring soundly next to me and wonder how on God's green earth he manages to sleep through that beeping every morning. Then I receive a swift kick to the bladder. "I know," I say, "I'm going." I throw the blankets off and roll my very pregnant self out of bed and waddle to the master bath.
After using the restroom, brushing my teeth and washing my face, I head down the hall past the new nursery, to the second bedroom. The door is open just a crack, enough to poke my head in and peek at my beautiful baby girl Brooklyn. She is getting so big, it's hard to believe she turns three in June. All I can see is her bouncy red curls falling crazily around her angel face. Off to the kitchen, I walk past the guest room down the stairs and through the living and dining room. I start the coffee pot and sit down to stare out the window, it's going to be beautiful out.
***
"Chow!" My eyes open instantly. "Great, another sleepless night," I mumble to myself. I sit up and get off my flat ass mat I call a bed and walk to the line of half asleep women just to hear them griping about the break-your-teeth-out cereal we're having again. I grab the nearest seat after I make my way through the line. I open my bowl to find out they must have ran out when they got to my bowl cause it's only half full. "Ugh, why do I even bother?" I force my way through every bit, hoping I don't chip a tooth again and throw my bowl in the tote.
I go back to the bunk I call home and lay down. After tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable I come to the conclusion that I'm not going to be able to go back to sleep with everyone else wide awake. So once again I get up, I grab my mug and pour some freeze dried instant coffee bullshit in and head to the hot pot praying that it has hot water or water period. After getting my coffee I go sit down at the picnic table and look up towards our family skylight which is really just a whole in the roof with a piece of plexi glass and metal bars covering it and wonder what it looks like outside.
Thursday, June 3, 2010
Imaginary Trip
by Jasmin Kern
I went to work today. A guy came up to me and asked, do you want to come on a trip? What kind of trip? We need a girl to help us in the circus for a year. I would love to help you but I can't cause my girls need me. Sorry.
I got home that night, made dinner for the girls. Waiting for my boyfriend to come home to tell him what happened at work. I got the table ready, he walked in the door. We sat down at the table. I looked at him and said, guess what? What? A guy asked me if I wanted to be in a circus for a year. Oh yeah? What did you say? I said no cause of the girls.
I just got back in their life. If I leave now it would mess them up. The whole reason I just got back into their life is cause of a drug addiction. I can't leave them. I have been gone for one year as it is. That is a good reason babe! I'm glad you thought it out before you said anything.
So I didn't go to the circus for the year. I stayed at my job I had at Wal-Mart. Took my girls to daycare. Everyday I went to work. The day I had off we went to the park or on a walk. And now I'm the mother that God wants me to be!
I went to work today. A guy came up to me and asked, do you want to come on a trip? What kind of trip? We need a girl to help us in the circus for a year. I would love to help you but I can't cause my girls need me. Sorry.
I got home that night, made dinner for the girls. Waiting for my boyfriend to come home to tell him what happened at work. I got the table ready, he walked in the door. We sat down at the table. I looked at him and said, guess what? What? A guy asked me if I wanted to be in a circus for a year. Oh yeah? What did you say? I said no cause of the girls.
I just got back in their life. If I leave now it would mess them up. The whole reason I just got back into their life is cause of a drug addiction. I can't leave them. I have been gone for one year as it is. That is a good reason babe! I'm glad you thought it out before you said anything.
So I didn't go to the circus for the year. I stayed at my job I had at Wal-Mart. Took my girls to daycare. Everyday I went to work. The day I had off we went to the park or on a walk. And now I'm the mother that God wants me to be!
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
Prison
by Summer Jaynes
I'm sitten here at Rockville Prison looking out the bars thinking to myself, "When will this end?" "Will I learn my lesson and never get into trouble again?" This is not somewhere I would want to stay longer than I have to. "Girls!" Not women! They are so rude & loud & disrespectful. I don't want to say nothing because I don't want to get into trouble this is very hard for me "to shut my mouth." I daydream a lot. I think of all the memories I have or I sleep so I can dream. The dreams take me in to a different world, a better place than this.
Some of the girls date each other, most of the time all this means is girl write love letters to other girls. I think it helps them cope with this place. Maybe they need love or just want to fit in. I don't do this, it's not in my world to be something I'm not. Yes, I've had sex with women but I love men, not women, that's just me. Besides, some of these girls are crazy. If they fall in love with you, they will try to get you in trouble just so you will stay here with them. It's crazy but hey some of these girls are crazy. I know one girls who pulls her hair out just because this other girls cuts her arms. Yes, this is not a place I want to be. But here I sit.
None of my friends write me anymore. They all forgot about me months ago. My family don't care. They know I will survive. It's very lonely here. I miss my kids, I miss my life. When will this end? I'm in a fog, drifting by, I'm numb but I hurt on the inside at the same time. This is a nightmare. Someday I will wake up and it will all be over but for now I have to stay in hell until God blesses me. Here I wait.
I'm sitten here at Rockville Prison looking out the bars thinking to myself, "When will this end?" "Will I learn my lesson and never get into trouble again?" This is not somewhere I would want to stay longer than I have to. "Girls!" Not women! They are so rude & loud & disrespectful. I don't want to say nothing because I don't want to get into trouble this is very hard for me "to shut my mouth." I daydream a lot. I think of all the memories I have or I sleep so I can dream. The dreams take me in to a different world, a better place than this.
Some of the girls date each other, most of the time all this means is girl write love letters to other girls. I think it helps them cope with this place. Maybe they need love or just want to fit in. I don't do this, it's not in my world to be something I'm not. Yes, I've had sex with women but I love men, not women, that's just me. Besides, some of these girls are crazy. If they fall in love with you, they will try to get you in trouble just so you will stay here with them. It's crazy but hey some of these girls are crazy. I know one girls who pulls her hair out just because this other girls cuts her arms. Yes, this is not a place I want to be. But here I sit.
None of my friends write me anymore. They all forgot about me months ago. My family don't care. They know I will survive. It's very lonely here. I miss my kids, I miss my life. When will this end? I'm in a fog, drifting by, I'm numb but I hurt on the inside at the same time. This is a nightmare. Someday I will wake up and it will all be over but for now I have to stay in hell until God blesses me. Here I wait.
Help
by Summer Jaynes
I feel like screaming, I feel like dreaming
I can't feel at all
I'm numb, tired of the pain, tired of the hate,
tired of life.
Why can't I sleep, dream, escape this life?
When did the hate start in my life?
Why am I smiling and laughing one week
Now I feel like I'm dead inside...I'm sad, mad,
but at who and why?
Maybe myself, maybe him, maybe everyone.
No one loves me, no one cares.
Why? Am I not likeable, loveable?
I want to cry but no tears come out
When will I stop feeling like this?
What am I feeling?
Mad, sad, angry, depressed, hatred, my insides are
screaming...Help me...Someone love me....
Everyone says, "Things will be better"
But when? All my life I heard this saying
All my life I have felt this screaming inside
Things seem to get worser in my life
nothing gets better.
People say "Things happen for a reason."
What reason?
Why the black eyes, dead babies, lies,
broken promises?
When will I stop hurting, someone tell me.
I feel like screaming, I feel like dreaming
I can't feel at all
I'm numb, tired of the pain, tired of the hate,
tired of life.
Why can't I sleep, dream, escape this life?
When did the hate start in my life?
Why am I smiling and laughing one week
Now I feel like I'm dead inside...I'm sad, mad,
but at who and why?
Maybe myself, maybe him, maybe everyone.
No one loves me, no one cares.
Why? Am I not likeable, loveable?
I want to cry but no tears come out
When will I stop feeling like this?
What am I feeling?
Mad, sad, angry, depressed, hatred, my insides are
screaming...Help me...Someone love me....
Everyone says, "Things will be better"
But when? All my life I heard this saying
All my life I have felt this screaming inside
Things seem to get worser in my life
nothing gets better.
People say "Things happen for a reason."
What reason?
Why the black eyes, dead babies, lies,
broken promises?
When will I stop hurting, someone tell me.
Saturday, May 29, 2010
The things we do in jail to feel and look beautiful
by Jasmin Kern
We hang our family's pictures on a cardboard that we get for our paper. Then we push a hole through it to hang it on our beds cause we are not allowed to hang them on the walls. We use jolly juice on our hair: that is jolly ranchers and hot water from the hot pot and shake it up until the melt. Then it is hair spray. We use color pencils for 3 things. The first thing is we color pictures for a little color. The next thing we do with the color pencils is make-up. We put them in hot water, let them sit for a minute. Then we use them to look good and feel good. The third thing we do is we smash them and get the lead out. Once we get the lead out we smash it up as small as we can get it. Then we put hot water from the hot pot, let it melt the color pencil lead. Then we can tie dye the white clothes that we pay for. And that is the thing we do to try to look and feel good in jail.
We hang our family's pictures on a cardboard that we get for our paper. Then we push a hole through it to hang it on our beds cause we are not allowed to hang them on the walls. We use jolly juice on our hair: that is jolly ranchers and hot water from the hot pot and shake it up until the melt. Then it is hair spray. We use color pencils for 3 things. The first thing is we color pictures for a little color. The next thing we do with the color pencils is make-up. We put them in hot water, let them sit for a minute. Then we use them to look good and feel good. The third thing we do is we smash them and get the lead out. Once we get the lead out we smash it up as small as we can get it. Then we put hot water from the hot pot, let it melt the color pencil lead. Then we can tie dye the white clothes that we pay for. And that is the thing we do to try to look and feel good in jail.
Friday, May 28, 2010
Memories
by Summer Jaynes
I lay in my dog cage on my bunk
looking at the broken ceiling thinking
thinking of all the good memories I have
my kids laughing, the way my grandmother smells, his arms
around me, flowers, smell of rain, the sound of life
I think of these memories every day
wishing, wanting, praying
I will have them again one day soon
The memories is all I have
They can't take them from me
They can take everything else
but not my memories
they are mine, mine only
Thank God for memories
I lay in my dog cage on my bunk
looking at the broken ceiling thinking
thinking of all the good memories I have
my kids laughing, the way my grandmother smells, his arms
around me, flowers, smell of rain, the sound of life
I think of these memories every day
wishing, wanting, praying
I will have them again one day soon
The memories is all I have
They can't take them from me
They can take everything else
but not my memories
they are mine, mine only
Thank God for memories
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Old Love
by Summer Jaynes
Love comes & goes
that we both know
But me & you I thought was true
You promise me so many things
one of them was that we'll be ok
Now look at us
You're with her, I'm with him
We both hate but still love one another
We can't be together forever like we used to be
It hurts my heart to see us this way
What can I say
Hi, bye, see you another day?
The kids love you, why didn't you stay?
Why did you hit me and make me this way?
Love comes & goes
that we both know
But me & you I thought was true
Now look at us
You're with her, I'm with him
What can I say?
Hi, bye, see you another day
Love comes & goes
Love comes & goes
that we both know
But me & you I thought was true
You promise me so many things
one of them was that we'll be ok
Now look at us
You're with her, I'm with him
We both hate but still love one another
We can't be together forever like we used to be
It hurts my heart to see us this way
What can I say
Hi, bye, see you another day?
The kids love you, why didn't you stay?
Why did you hit me and make me this way?
Love comes & goes
that we both know
But me & you I thought was true
Now look at us
You're with her, I'm with him
What can I say?
Hi, bye, see you another day
Love comes & goes
Wednesday, May 26, 2010
Hard Timer
by Michael Howard
I'm watching people take what we call the grey mile. People walking in circles in this grey lighted block. Some have their heads up, trying to stay positive in the face of disaster. Although not speaking much, their demeanor says it all.
Some have their heads down, hands behind their back with a very disgusted look on their face. A look of disdain and obvious resentment. They are what we call hard timers. They are letting themselves be beaten by their charges. Something I will never let myself be, a hard timer.
I'm watching people take what we call the grey mile. People walking in circles in this grey lighted block. Some have their heads up, trying to stay positive in the face of disaster. Although not speaking much, their demeanor says it all.
Some have their heads down, hands behind their back with a very disgusted look on their face. A look of disdain and obvious resentment. They are what we call hard timers. They are letting themselves be beaten by their charges. Something I will never let myself be, a hard timer.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Why my granddaughter is special to me
by Tina Duff
My granddaughter, Jacinda Marie, is special to me. She can make you smile no matter how bad her day. She always smiles and keeps everyone around her smiling even with the other negative things that go on around her she's happy. She's my first one out of five grandkids, and some days she seems so much more grown than I'll ever be. She is the light of my life and she's my porcelain baby. She is so fair-skinned and beautiful, always positive, always happy. She's my world and always will be.
My granddaughter, Jacinda Marie, is special to me. She can make you smile no matter how bad her day. She always smiles and keeps everyone around her smiling even with the other negative things that go on around her she's happy. She's my first one out of five grandkids, and some days she seems so much more grown than I'll ever be. She is the light of my life and she's my porcelain baby. She is so fair-skinned and beautiful, always positive, always happy. She's my world and always will be.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
I fell asleep reading a book about cats!
by Jasmin Kern
I fell asleep reading a book about cats!
All of a sudden I hear a knock at my door, which wakes me from a sound sleep. To my surprise, I find I'm not myself anymore. I look in the mirror and looking back at me is a cat. The brightest green eyes I have ever seen. Surrounded by the shiniest black coat of fur I've ever seen. So I jump off the bed and begin wandering around the house looking to see what I might find to eat. Going into the kitchen I find a nice bowl of milk that my boyfriend left. After drinking my fill I sit down and start licking my fur clean.
I wander around the house till I find a ball of string. I sit there and smack at it with my paws, so easily amused. After a bit I get bored so I jump up on the couch and stretch out to take a cat nap. In the distance I hear a bird chirping, I follow the sound and find an open window. I hop out the window and wander over by a giant tree. Climbing up the tree following the sound, I see a blue bird farther up in the tree. I try to catch it. But it flies away as soon as it sees me. So I liked it up there in the tree, so I curl up and fall asleep. When I wake up again I'm me. I wonder how I got up in the tree.
I got halfway down but the ground was too far for me to get to. So I waited for someone to walk by. My friend pulled up tot he house. I yell her name and she looks up and starts to laugh. "How did you get up there?" "I don't know, don't laugh, get a ladder and get me down!" So now I'm back on the ground. I still wonder how I got up in the tree.
I fell asleep reading a book about cats!
All of a sudden I hear a knock at my door, which wakes me from a sound sleep. To my surprise, I find I'm not myself anymore. I look in the mirror and looking back at me is a cat. The brightest green eyes I have ever seen. Surrounded by the shiniest black coat of fur I've ever seen. So I jump off the bed and begin wandering around the house looking to see what I might find to eat. Going into the kitchen I find a nice bowl of milk that my boyfriend left. After drinking my fill I sit down and start licking my fur clean.
I wander around the house till I find a ball of string. I sit there and smack at it with my paws, so easily amused. After a bit I get bored so I jump up on the couch and stretch out to take a cat nap. In the distance I hear a bird chirping, I follow the sound and find an open window. I hop out the window and wander over by a giant tree. Climbing up the tree following the sound, I see a blue bird farther up in the tree. I try to catch it. But it flies away as soon as it sees me. So I liked it up there in the tree, so I curl up and fall asleep. When I wake up again I'm me. I wonder how I got up in the tree.
I got halfway down but the ground was too far for me to get to. So I waited for someone to walk by. My friend pulled up tot he house. I yell her name and she looks up and starts to laugh. "How did you get up there?" "I don't know, don't laugh, get a ladder and get me down!" So now I'm back on the ground. I still wonder how I got up in the tree.
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Why I've lost and miss the most
by Rachael Harter
I miss my dogs. I miss watching them play and run in
our back yard. I miss cooking dinner for my ungrateful husband. I
miss getting up and getting a cold icy soda or beer (no ice).
I miss people...people I want to see. Not these idiots in here.
I miss my make-up and perfume. I miss my clothes and purses and oh god...
my shoes!
I miss my mom. I miss being able to call her and text her. I miss
stopping by for a visit and playing
with her dog. I miss my sister! I miss my niece, nephew.
I miss the way my husband used to look at me, before I was a
"convict-drug addict." I miss the innocence in our relationship.
Of all the things it sucks to know I took them all for
granted when I was out. I miss the opportunity to take advantage
of all these things.
I miss my dogs. I miss watching them play and run in
our back yard. I miss cooking dinner for my ungrateful husband. I
miss getting up and getting a cold icy soda or beer (no ice).
I miss people...people I want to see. Not these idiots in here.
I miss my make-up and perfume. I miss my clothes and purses and oh god...
my shoes!
I miss my mom. I miss being able to call her and text her. I miss
stopping by for a visit and playing
with her dog. I miss my sister! I miss my niece, nephew.
I miss the way my husband used to look at me, before I was a
"convict-drug addict." I miss the innocence in our relationship.
Of all the things it sucks to know I took them all for
granted when I was out. I miss the opportunity to take advantage
of all these things.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Theft due to Meth
by Valentina Duff
I've been a thief, just to "geek." Why? It's what we do, just to be...We lose our loved ones, our lives, our animals, our homes. Why? Just to "geek." We get incarcerated and are able to think clear again and then we ask ourselves why? We wonder what it is that doesn't make us question why a long time ago. That's what I want to know: why? I believe with rehab that these questions will be answered. Then and only then we will no longer ask, "why?"
I've been a thief, just to "geek." Why? It's what we do, just to be...We lose our loved ones, our lives, our animals, our homes. Why? Just to "geek." We get incarcerated and are able to think clear again and then we ask ourselves why? We wonder what it is that doesn't make us question why a long time ago. That's what I want to know: why? I believe with rehab that these questions will be answered. Then and only then we will no longer ask, "why?"
Thursday, May 13, 2010
One of the best days of my life
by Jasmin Kern
May 28, 2006, was one of the best, happiest, and most exciting days of my life! On that day I brought Linsie, my youngest daughter, home from the hospital. I experienced so many sounds, smells, feelings, and sights that day.
The look on my oldest daughter, Alisha's, face was priceless. She was excited to be a big sister, and to finally have her baby sister at home. Alisha had the biggest, most beautiful smile on her face, when we walked through the door. There are no words to truly describe the look on Alisha's face. It was truly priceless!
Everytime I think back to the day of May 28, so many sounds I heard that day come to mind. As soon as we pulled up to the house I heard the dogs barking in the back yard, because they heard us pulling up. Once I stepped out of the car, I heard the wind howling, causing the leaves to rustle in the trees. As soon as we carried Linsie through the front door, I instantly heard my family and my daughter Alisha talking and laughing with excitement at the arrival of Linsie. Throughout the rest of the day I continued to hear talking, laughing, babies crying and even the doors opening and closing due to family and friends coming and going.
Once I got home and got settled, it was time for dinner. On that night we decided to have tacos. It felt very relaxed to be out of the hospital and able to eat some home-cooked food. My house smelled of ground beef, taco seasoning, and salsa. With dinner that night I enjoyed an ice-cold fountain mountain dew. Everything was so delicious and completely satisfying.
May 28, 2006, was one of the best, happiest, and most exciting days of my life! On that day I brought Linsie, my youngest daughter, home from the hospital. I experienced so many sounds, smells, feelings, and sights that day.
The look on my oldest daughter, Alisha's, face was priceless. She was excited to be a big sister, and to finally have her baby sister at home. Alisha had the biggest, most beautiful smile on her face, when we walked through the door. There are no words to truly describe the look on Alisha's face. It was truly priceless!
Everytime I think back to the day of May 28, so many sounds I heard that day come to mind. As soon as we pulled up to the house I heard the dogs barking in the back yard, because they heard us pulling up. Once I stepped out of the car, I heard the wind howling, causing the leaves to rustle in the trees. As soon as we carried Linsie through the front door, I instantly heard my family and my daughter Alisha talking and laughing with excitement at the arrival of Linsie. Throughout the rest of the day I continued to hear talking, laughing, babies crying and even the doors opening and closing due to family and friends coming and going.
Once I got home and got settled, it was time for dinner. On that night we decided to have tacos. It felt very relaxed to be out of the hospital and able to eat some home-cooked food. My house smelled of ground beef, taco seasoning, and salsa. With dinner that night I enjoyed an ice-cold fountain mountain dew. Everything was so delicious and completely satisfying.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
Untitled
by Jessica Gillman
The night before, I talked to my mom on the phone. She seemed fine, was going to eat spaghetti and go take a nap. She had just been released from prison, two days prior, after a 7 1/2-year-long sentence. We all went to bed planning our trip to the blueberry festival the next day, and I stayed up late to watch the news to see the weather to know how to dress. In the morning, my husband decided to get up early and mow the lawn before we left. He was done mowing and had gone down the road to his dad's to take the mower back. And I went back inside to eat the hashbrowns and toast that he'd made that morning. I went back outside and sat on the cold cement porch. I could smell the fresh cut grass and the cool morning air, and my dog, a yellow lab (Scooter), had been in the creek and was muddy and wet. I threw his fall far so he'd stay away from me and not get me all muddy.
I can hear the phone ringing and the answering machine come on, but no message being left. I had already locked the door so I didn't want to go back in and get the phone, but they just kept calling and calling. I could see my husband and kids coming back up the road, and I decided to go and get the phone. It was my dad, he said, are you home alone? All I could say was, why? Why? And I ran outside without my shoes on and I could feel the rough bumpy sidewalk under my feet. And he said your mom's gone. I said where? He said dead. She's dead. My knees became so weak and I ran across the yard screaming with the phone in my hand. And I fell against the big walnut tree in the yard, my forehead was pressed against the rough bark of it. I felt sick, and could not breathe. My head was dizzy as I tried to understand why my mom would take her own life? I looked up trying to see straight the red truck driving by looking at me on my knees screaming no! no! no!
The night before, I talked to my mom on the phone. She seemed fine, was going to eat spaghetti and go take a nap. She had just been released from prison, two days prior, after a 7 1/2-year-long sentence. We all went to bed planning our trip to the blueberry festival the next day, and I stayed up late to watch the news to see the weather to know how to dress. In the morning, my husband decided to get up early and mow the lawn before we left. He was done mowing and had gone down the road to his dad's to take the mower back. And I went back inside to eat the hashbrowns and toast that he'd made that morning. I went back outside and sat on the cold cement porch. I could smell the fresh cut grass and the cool morning air, and my dog, a yellow lab (Scooter), had been in the creek and was muddy and wet. I threw his fall far so he'd stay away from me and not get me all muddy.
I can hear the phone ringing and the answering machine come on, but no message being left. I had already locked the door so I didn't want to go back in and get the phone, but they just kept calling and calling. I could see my husband and kids coming back up the road, and I decided to go and get the phone. It was my dad, he said, are you home alone? All I could say was, why? Why? And I ran outside without my shoes on and I could feel the rough bumpy sidewalk under my feet. And he said your mom's gone. I said where? He said dead. She's dead. My knees became so weak and I ran across the yard screaming with the phone in my hand. And I fell against the big walnut tree in the yard, my forehead was pressed against the rough bark of it. I felt sick, and could not breathe. My head was dizzy as I tried to understand why my mom would take her own life? I looked up trying to see straight the red truck driving by looking at me on my knees screaming no! no! no!
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
He is home, finally
by Megan Sloane
I hear the sound of the metal gates open and my heart starts to beat a little faster. As I look through my rear view mirror I see the silhouette of a man. As he steps through the gates I hear them slam shut. As I watch the silhouette of this man it's slowly starting to become a real person. It's my husband. My heart starts to melt and as I think of how my body has longed to be held by his embrace I notice the old flimsy box he is carrying. I fumble around as I feel for the little square trunk release button, trying to pull my flustered self together. I finally find the courage to step out of the car, uncertain of what he will think of me. I watch him put his property in my trunk and as if the weight of the world had been taken off his shoulders he closes the trunk.
He is a free man. He glances up to see me just standing waiting and as the smile comes to his face I run to him. As I wrap my arms around him I notice the increase in the size of his arms and the hardness in his torso. As I realize the fact that I'm squeezing him tight enough to cut some circulation off, he lifts me off the ground and I am completely engulfed by the musty smell of clothes not worn for the past 9 months. And even though the smell is a little overwhelming it seems near impossible to ever let go. We finally manage to pull ourselves apart and are happy to finally say goodbye to this chapter of our lives.
Before we even leave the parking lot he has lit both of us a Red. He is playing with the plastic buttons on my not-so-up-to-date CD player and I roll down the windows just a crack to let the smoke clear. With all things a go and nothing holding us back, I reach for the gear shift and put the car in drive. My left hand is gripping the leather steering wheel with my cigarette securely in place between my two fingers. After getting the car in the right gear, my husband ever gently grabs my right hand just to feel my fingers intertwined with his for the first time in what seems like forever. As we finally start down this long stretch of highway we don't dare look back at the big prison we so desperately never want to see again.
I can barely keep my foot from pressing too hard on the gas in the desperate urge to get home where we belong. As we talk and laugh I smile to myself to see the satisfaction of the look on Tom's face. The anticipation of coming home must be enough to kill someone.
When I awoke this morning to the sound of my alarm at 4:00 a.m. and the emptiness of my bed I was somewhat dreading the very early long drive to the prison, but after dragging myself to do this dreadful task my body shakes in the excitement of knowing that by the end of this day I will only feel our bodies tangled in the silk sheets of my bed with the sweet thoughts of knowing what forever meant for us dancing wildly in my head.
I hear the sound of the metal gates open and my heart starts to beat a little faster. As I look through my rear view mirror I see the silhouette of a man. As he steps through the gates I hear them slam shut. As I watch the silhouette of this man it's slowly starting to become a real person. It's my husband. My heart starts to melt and as I think of how my body has longed to be held by his embrace I notice the old flimsy box he is carrying. I fumble around as I feel for the little square trunk release button, trying to pull my flustered self together. I finally find the courage to step out of the car, uncertain of what he will think of me. I watch him put his property in my trunk and as if the weight of the world had been taken off his shoulders he closes the trunk.
He is a free man. He glances up to see me just standing waiting and as the smile comes to his face I run to him. As I wrap my arms around him I notice the increase in the size of his arms and the hardness in his torso. As I realize the fact that I'm squeezing him tight enough to cut some circulation off, he lifts me off the ground and I am completely engulfed by the musty smell of clothes not worn for the past 9 months. And even though the smell is a little overwhelming it seems near impossible to ever let go. We finally manage to pull ourselves apart and are happy to finally say goodbye to this chapter of our lives.
Before we even leave the parking lot he has lit both of us a Red. He is playing with the plastic buttons on my not-so-up-to-date CD player and I roll down the windows just a crack to let the smoke clear. With all things a go and nothing holding us back, I reach for the gear shift and put the car in drive. My left hand is gripping the leather steering wheel with my cigarette securely in place between my two fingers. After getting the car in the right gear, my husband ever gently grabs my right hand just to feel my fingers intertwined with his for the first time in what seems like forever. As we finally start down this long stretch of highway we don't dare look back at the big prison we so desperately never want to see again.
I can barely keep my foot from pressing too hard on the gas in the desperate urge to get home where we belong. As we talk and laugh I smile to myself to see the satisfaction of the look on Tom's face. The anticipation of coming home must be enough to kill someone.
When I awoke this morning to the sound of my alarm at 4:00 a.m. and the emptiness of my bed I was somewhat dreading the very early long drive to the prison, but after dragging myself to do this dreadful task my body shakes in the excitement of knowing that by the end of this day I will only feel our bodies tangled in the silk sheets of my bed with the sweet thoughts of knowing what forever meant for us dancing wildly in my head.
Monday, May 3, 2010
Talk
Please note that Summer is now in prison, at the Rockville Correctional Facility. She is writing from there.
Talk
by Summer Jaynes
They shut the door and lock it, the lights are dim. I can hear a low hum of different voices around me. It's time for bed in other places but not here. I live with seven other women 24/7. Every night we do the same thing: talk.
Talk about how different our lives are.
Talk about our family and friends.
Talk about ourselves.
We all get very close with each other, making plans that we know won't ever happen but the thought is nice. We all laugh and smile with each other even if we're on each other's nerves. We will all listen if you have a problem, we all will be here for each other to talk with.
We are strangers from different parts of Indiana but at the same time we are all sisters. It doesn't matter where you come from, what color you are or even if you're not all there.
All that matters is...
We have someone to talk with...
Talk
by Summer Jaynes
They shut the door and lock it, the lights are dim. I can hear a low hum of different voices around me. It's time for bed in other places but not here. I live with seven other women 24/7. Every night we do the same thing: talk.
Talk about how different our lives are.
Talk about our family and friends.
Talk about ourselves.
We all get very close with each other, making plans that we know won't ever happen but the thought is nice. We all laugh and smile with each other even if we're on each other's nerves. We will all listen if you have a problem, we all will be here for each other to talk with.
We are strangers from different parts of Indiana but at the same time we are all sisters. It doesn't matter where you come from, what color you are or even if you're not all there.
All that matters is...
We have someone to talk with...
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Nature from the Inside
Please note that Summer is now in prison. She writes from there.
Nature from the Inside
by Summer Jaynes
I'm outside. It's such a great day, a warm breeze, sun, heating my face. I look up at the bright blue sky. There are big fluffy white clouds floating but they look so soft it's like I could reach up and touch them. They seem so close but so far at the same time. I close my eyes, take a deep breath. I can smell spring flowers. Somewhere out there I smell fresh dirt, like a tractor close by is plowing the fields. I open my eyes and look around. The grass is so green. I take my shoes off so my bare feet can feel the grass tickling my toes. It feels so nice that for a minute I forget.
I forget everything that's going on around me.
I forget my problems, my worries.
I forget where I am.
I look back up at the sky and see a single cloud floating by all by itself. I think, "It's me," floating through life by myself. When will I join the rest of the clouds, when will we flow together?
All of a sudden I hear my name: "#967695" I look up and see an officer. I come back and realize where I'm at. The officers says, "Put your shoes back on." I do. I look around and see the razor sharp barbwire fences and all the other women around me with depressing looks on their face. I realize I'm back in prison, but just for a minute--I was at peace. I was free.
Nature from the Inside
by Summer Jaynes
I'm outside. It's such a great day, a warm breeze, sun, heating my face. I look up at the bright blue sky. There are big fluffy white clouds floating but they look so soft it's like I could reach up and touch them. They seem so close but so far at the same time. I close my eyes, take a deep breath. I can smell spring flowers. Somewhere out there I smell fresh dirt, like a tractor close by is plowing the fields. I open my eyes and look around. The grass is so green. I take my shoes off so my bare feet can feel the grass tickling my toes. It feels so nice that for a minute I forget.
I forget everything that's going on around me.
I forget my problems, my worries.
I forget where I am.
I look back up at the sky and see a single cloud floating by all by itself. I think, "It's me," floating through life by myself. When will I join the rest of the clouds, when will we flow together?
All of a sudden I hear my name: "#967695" I look up and see an officer. I come back and realize where I'm at. The officers says, "Put your shoes back on." I do. I look around and see the razor sharp barbwire fences and all the other women around me with depressing looks on their face. I realize I'm back in prison, but just for a minute--I was at peace. I was free.
Saturday, May 1, 2010
A Million Dollars
by Megan Slone
If I were given a million dollars on the terms that I would have to leave this country, I would take my daughter and parents and go to Amsterdam. I would become an owner of a huge chain of coffee shops. I chose to go to Amsterdam cause I can smoke marijuana cigarettes without getting myself in trouble.
After starting my business I would be very financially stable (on top of the original million) and be able to support my family the way they have supported me. I would also send my daughter to the best school and make sure she had everything she needed or wanted. I would also be invited to all important events of the country because I'm so rich. I would also do fundraisers for breast cancer and cervical cancer and eventually donate or raise enough money to find the cure. Then they would name it after me. I would also feed the hungry and make shelters for the homeless and unwanted children...if I had a million dollars.
If I were given a million dollars on the terms that I would have to leave this country, I would take my daughter and parents and go to Amsterdam. I would become an owner of a huge chain of coffee shops. I chose to go to Amsterdam cause I can smoke marijuana cigarettes without getting myself in trouble.
After starting my business I would be very financially stable (on top of the original million) and be able to support my family the way they have supported me. I would also send my daughter to the best school and make sure she had everything she needed or wanted. I would also be invited to all important events of the country because I'm so rich. I would also do fundraisers for breast cancer and cervical cancer and eventually donate or raise enough money to find the cure. Then they would name it after me. I would also feed the hungry and make shelters for the homeless and unwanted children...if I had a million dollars.
Friday, April 30, 2010
Prison
by Megan Slone
I have been sitting in KCJ for months now awaiting sentencing. I have been sitting in KCJ for months now fearing prison. I am to the point that I can finally say I'm ready. With no fresh air and no green grass. With no real look at the outside I can finally say I'm ready. I listen to the stories, some good and some bad. I'm scared but I'm ready. I'm ready to get this chapter of my life over with, to move on, to come home, to be what I should have been: a daughter, a mother, a human. Not a drug addict, not a meth cook. A human.
I sit in my room and cry thinking about my daughter, my family, and the friends I thought were friends. And I try to figure out how I got to this point and I realize it was my fault, all my fault. I''m going away for years now, leaving my loved ones behind to worry. But I'm glad prison is in my future now. I'm glad I'm clean, I'm sober, my head is clear. Now I get to go to college and work on my self, better myself, do what I never would have done on the streets. I'm scared but I'm ready. What will life have in store for me now?
I'm ready.
I have been sitting in KCJ for months now awaiting sentencing. I have been sitting in KCJ for months now fearing prison. I am to the point that I can finally say I'm ready. With no fresh air and no green grass. With no real look at the outside I can finally say I'm ready. I listen to the stories, some good and some bad. I'm scared but I'm ready. I'm ready to get this chapter of my life over with, to move on, to come home, to be what I should have been: a daughter, a mother, a human. Not a drug addict, not a meth cook. A human.
I sit in my room and cry thinking about my daughter, my family, and the friends I thought were friends. And I try to figure out how I got to this point and I realize it was my fault, all my fault. I''m going away for years now, leaving my loved ones behind to worry. But I'm glad prison is in my future now. I'm glad I'm clean, I'm sober, my head is clear. Now I get to go to college and work on my self, better myself, do what I never would have done on the streets. I'm scared but I'm ready. What will life have in store for me now?
I'm ready.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
Relationships While Incarcerated
by Deanna Thompson
I feel this is the hardest thing here about being locked up.
Sitting--wondering, waiting, worried sick. Wondering if they are okay, if they're with someone else, if they're gonna really come to see you. Waiting--waiting for visits, mail. I don't think you really realize how important mail is until you are locked up! It's your only connection to the outside world. Worried--are they still doing all the stupid shit we were doing? You know they are, why wouldn't they be? The only reason you're not is because you're locked up!
I feel if anyone is gonna be doing a long bit of time that it would be best to come into jail or prison a free person. This would give you time to work on yourself, a lot less worries and a lot less heartbreaks. The only thing you have in here is what they tell you. If they don't come through it cuts deeper than any knife I've ever felt.
So all I can say is if you're not 100% for sure don't say you're gonna do anything because saying nothing at all doesn't hurt like saying you're gonna do something and then not going through with it.
I really hope this helps some of our people on the outside to understand how hard it really is in here.
I feel this is the hardest thing here about being locked up.
Sitting--wondering, waiting, worried sick. Wondering if they are okay, if they're with someone else, if they're gonna really come to see you. Waiting--waiting for visits, mail. I don't think you really realize how important mail is until you are locked up! It's your only connection to the outside world. Worried--are they still doing all the stupid shit we were doing? You know they are, why wouldn't they be? The only reason you're not is because you're locked up!
I feel if anyone is gonna be doing a long bit of time that it would be best to come into jail or prison a free person. This would give you time to work on yourself, a lot less worries and a lot less heartbreaks. The only thing you have in here is what they tell you. If they don't come through it cuts deeper than any knife I've ever felt.
So all I can say is if you're not 100% for sure don't say you're gonna do anything because saying nothing at all doesn't hurt like saying you're gonna do something and then not going through with it.
I really hope this helps some of our people on the outside to understand how hard it really is in here.
Saturday, April 24, 2010
Any Help
by Jessica Hall
Part 1
Eyes staring at me so intently I slowly sat on the floor.
"I'm just going to get rid of some shit and I'll be right back. A couple hours at the most," Aaron says.
"I'm not dumb. She is at a hotel and you won't come home. How stupid do you think I am? I"m tired of all the bullshit, Aaron," I quickly say through tears. "Why don't you just tell me it's over. If you want her it's fine, I can't keep doing this. I won't keep doing it." My heart pounds as I stand up. Fear ripping through my body as I try to figure a way out without getting hurt. We are in the dark bedroom. No light on. I can hear his friends talking in the living room. "Lord, please let them help me if he tries something," I pray to myself.
"What is wrong with you? I told you what I'm doing. It's all in your head. You are too doped up to know what the fuck is going on anymore. You know that, right? Stupid bitch!" he states with a smug little grin on his face.
"Fuck you! I'm done," I cry once more. Now! I tell myself. I start to dart for the door, but only make it a couple steps. He grabs my arm so tight I scream in pain. The fingers gripped me so hard I can feel the instant bruising. I try to squirm away as he tells me to shut the fuck up before he really gives me a reason to yell. I can hear the guys in the living room all moving around, but no one comes. Aaron flings me around and I hit the floor. So much built-up anger and hate dulls my pain for a moment. All I want to do is hurt him like he has me. To show him he is not right for once in his life.
"Don't you ever walk away from me again. I will be back later. Don't even think about leaving either. Erik will be here to watch you," he finally says as he lets go of me. "Is that understood?"
"Yes," I reply, glaring at him.
Part 2
I stand looking in at the mirror at all the red marks on my arm from the fight.
"Oops, sorry." I turn to seek Erik standing in the bedroom doorway. I quickly put my shirt back on, watching my arm carefully. I slowly walk into the living room. All eyes are on my arm. Fingerprints more than identifiable. I try to cover them with my other hand quickly in shame. I look only to the floor. Glancing up to Aaron's whispering in my ear, "Wipe your eyes please. I'm sorry I left those marks." I have no response. Only wishing he would go away already. The pain is gone by now. Only feeling lonely and broken once more. My mind does not race, my head does not spin. Nothing is all I get. All I want. To forget it all and never look back. I sit in silence for an hour staring off into space. I can hear the people all talking but pay them no mind. They laugh and joke.
"Are you ok?" Erik whispers as Aaron walks away. I just nod my head yes. Not really even thinking of the question he just asked.
"Alright, babe. I'm taking off." Aaron smiles as he gives me a kiss. Everyone but Erik and Tiara leave.
Part 3
"Now damn it, Jess, let me see your arm," Erik says as I slowly remove my hand. "I've told you a millions times you're better than this shit. Aaron may be my cousin, but he doesn't deserve you! I told you last time what to do, but I give up. You can't help someone who'll go right back!" The last few words stung me like a bee. Aaron's own flesh and blood had begged me to leave him just a few weeks before. Telling me how much he had loved me and wanting nothing more than for me to be happy.
"Erik, please," I begged. I couldn't stand another lecture. Not tonight anyway.
"I best go. You know how Aaron is. He left me with you, but will accuse you of doing wrong." Erik and Tiara left me home alone. I curled up in a little ball and fell asleep.
Part 1
Eyes staring at me so intently I slowly sat on the floor.
"I'm just going to get rid of some shit and I'll be right back. A couple hours at the most," Aaron says.
"I'm not dumb. She is at a hotel and you won't come home. How stupid do you think I am? I"m tired of all the bullshit, Aaron," I quickly say through tears. "Why don't you just tell me it's over. If you want her it's fine, I can't keep doing this. I won't keep doing it." My heart pounds as I stand up. Fear ripping through my body as I try to figure a way out without getting hurt. We are in the dark bedroom. No light on. I can hear his friends talking in the living room. "Lord, please let them help me if he tries something," I pray to myself.
"What is wrong with you? I told you what I'm doing. It's all in your head. You are too doped up to know what the fuck is going on anymore. You know that, right? Stupid bitch!" he states with a smug little grin on his face.
"Fuck you! I'm done," I cry once more. Now! I tell myself. I start to dart for the door, but only make it a couple steps. He grabs my arm so tight I scream in pain. The fingers gripped me so hard I can feel the instant bruising. I try to squirm away as he tells me to shut the fuck up before he really gives me a reason to yell. I can hear the guys in the living room all moving around, but no one comes. Aaron flings me around and I hit the floor. So much built-up anger and hate dulls my pain for a moment. All I want to do is hurt him like he has me. To show him he is not right for once in his life.
"Don't you ever walk away from me again. I will be back later. Don't even think about leaving either. Erik will be here to watch you," he finally says as he lets go of me. "Is that understood?"
"Yes," I reply, glaring at him.
Part 2
I stand looking in at the mirror at all the red marks on my arm from the fight.
"Oops, sorry." I turn to seek Erik standing in the bedroom doorway. I quickly put my shirt back on, watching my arm carefully. I slowly walk into the living room. All eyes are on my arm. Fingerprints more than identifiable. I try to cover them with my other hand quickly in shame. I look only to the floor. Glancing up to Aaron's whispering in my ear, "Wipe your eyes please. I'm sorry I left those marks." I have no response. Only wishing he would go away already. The pain is gone by now. Only feeling lonely and broken once more. My mind does not race, my head does not spin. Nothing is all I get. All I want. To forget it all and never look back. I sit in silence for an hour staring off into space. I can hear the people all talking but pay them no mind. They laugh and joke.
"Are you ok?" Erik whispers as Aaron walks away. I just nod my head yes. Not really even thinking of the question he just asked.
"Alright, babe. I'm taking off." Aaron smiles as he gives me a kiss. Everyone but Erik and Tiara leave.
Part 3
"Now damn it, Jess, let me see your arm," Erik says as I slowly remove my hand. "I've told you a millions times you're better than this shit. Aaron may be my cousin, but he doesn't deserve you! I told you last time what to do, but I give up. You can't help someone who'll go right back!" The last few words stung me like a bee. Aaron's own flesh and blood had begged me to leave him just a few weeks before. Telling me how much he had loved me and wanting nothing more than for me to be happy.
"Erik, please," I begged. I couldn't stand another lecture. Not tonight anyway.
"I best go. You know how Aaron is. He left me with you, but will accuse you of doing wrong." Erik and Tiara left me home alone. I curled up in a little ball and fell asleep.
Friday, April 23, 2010
Still I Stand
by Isaac Pena
Here I stand on the highest peak of the tallest mountain. Watching balls of fire fall from the sky and plummet to the earth's surface with extreme force. And I just stand here continue on getting pelted by balls of fire, and although it burns me skin, although the pain is excruciating I stand here still watching, still waiting for the fire balls to stop. But until it does I am still gonna stand here in pain and wait for the fire to stop. I'll still be here waiting for my moment of triumph.
Here I stand on the highest peak of the tallest mountain. Watching balls of fire fall from the sky and plummet to the earth's surface with extreme force. And I just stand here continue on getting pelted by balls of fire, and although it burns me skin, although the pain is excruciating I stand here still watching, still waiting for the fire balls to stop. But until it does I am still gonna stand here in pain and wait for the fire to stop. I'll still be here waiting for my moment of triumph.
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Love
by Jessica Hall
A thick haze covers my eyes
blinding me from reality
Overwhelming smells fill the air
unable to smell anything else
Shivers run down the spine
goose bumps showing up everywhere
Just one simple touch
does wonders to the body
Walking away is unthinkable
never wanting another soul
A thick haze covers my eyes
blinding me from reality
Overwhelming smells fill the air
unable to smell anything else
Shivers run down the spine
goose bumps showing up everywhere
Just one simple touch
does wonders to the body
Walking away is unthinkable
never wanting another soul
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Tuesday, you say
by Jessica Gillman
What day is it? Does anyone know? I don't care, Tuesday you say. That means nothing to me in here, just another day of breakfast, lunch, dinner, and back to bed. It's going to be 80 degrees this weekend means nothing to me; maybe it'll rain, nope still nothing!
Seen a new meth bust on TV that means something to me. It means we're getting a new girl. Wonder what she'll be like. Got no mail today that means something. You planted flowers today, good, good for you, means nothing to me. I finally finished my word search today--that was my high point. Funny how you adapt to your surroundings and find meaning in these crazy things.
Days of the week used to mean something to me. Now I don't care what day it is. Is there still a world out there? Is life still going on without me? Are things changing? I've forgotten what sun on my skin feels like. What does it smell like outside after it rains? Please tell me, I can't remember. I'd love to hear the wind or see the sky. I'd love to care that it's Tuesday, I just don't. What is it like to be in your car and change the radio station, that memory is also fading (help!). Fridays used to mean payday, maybe McDonald's, what does that taste like I forget help me remember?? Because now Friday's just like Tuesday, don't mean shit in here. What's it like to hear an alarm clock in the morning instead of a guard screaming BREAKFAST??? What's it like to go downstairs in the morning, pour yourself some fruit loops, open the fridge and realize oh shit I forgot to buy milk yesterday! And to top it off you forgot to put your blue scrub pants in the dryer because Wednesday is blue pant day at work. At least I washed em. I forget what that feels like--remind me please! Wednesday don't mean nothing in here.
What's it like to know your day off is Thursday? What's it like to have plans for the day? Please tell me I need to hear it! Don't really matter to me if there's a sale at Kohl's today--nope, means nothing--days of the week don't really exist in my new world inside these bricks. I'm like a robot living by commands doing the same thing every day, functioning on a different level: damn it a new chick just left, and wouldn't leave us her socks, don't she know what that would've mean to us? What's it like to get all the way to work and realize you forgot your lunch? Or to realize on the way home you have to make cookies for the whole third grade. What's it like to feel silk instead of wool, I can't recall, but here I don't have to worry about none of these things at all.
What day is it? Does anyone know? I don't care, Tuesday you say. That means nothing to me in here, just another day of breakfast, lunch, dinner, and back to bed. It's going to be 80 degrees this weekend means nothing to me; maybe it'll rain, nope still nothing!
Seen a new meth bust on TV that means something to me. It means we're getting a new girl. Wonder what she'll be like. Got no mail today that means something. You planted flowers today, good, good for you, means nothing to me. I finally finished my word search today--that was my high point. Funny how you adapt to your surroundings and find meaning in these crazy things.
Days of the week used to mean something to me. Now I don't care what day it is. Is there still a world out there? Is life still going on without me? Are things changing? I've forgotten what sun on my skin feels like. What does it smell like outside after it rains? Please tell me, I can't remember. I'd love to hear the wind or see the sky. I'd love to care that it's Tuesday, I just don't. What is it like to be in your car and change the radio station, that memory is also fading (help!). Fridays used to mean payday, maybe McDonald's, what does that taste like I forget help me remember?? Because now Friday's just like Tuesday, don't mean shit in here. What's it like to hear an alarm clock in the morning instead of a guard screaming BREAKFAST??? What's it like to go downstairs in the morning, pour yourself some fruit loops, open the fridge and realize oh shit I forgot to buy milk yesterday! And to top it off you forgot to put your blue scrub pants in the dryer because Wednesday is blue pant day at work. At least I washed em. I forget what that feels like--remind me please! Wednesday don't mean nothing in here.
What's it like to know your day off is Thursday? What's it like to have plans for the day? Please tell me I need to hear it! Don't really matter to me if there's a sale at Kohl's today--nope, means nothing--days of the week don't really exist in my new world inside these bricks. I'm like a robot living by commands doing the same thing every day, functioning on a different level: damn it a new chick just left, and wouldn't leave us her socks, don't she know what that would've mean to us? What's it like to get all the way to work and realize you forgot your lunch? Or to realize on the way home you have to make cookies for the whole third grade. What's it like to feel silk instead of wool, I can't recall, but here I don't have to worry about none of these things at all.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Vampire
by Isaac Pena
I feel somewhat like a vampire. I am here but it's like nobody knows I exist. I want to tell people I am here but it goes against everything I stand for. I am far from humanity, far from being sane. Where I live it's always dark and always snowing. And I have a cabin where I just stay always. There are lights in my house but I leave them off. The only thing on in my house is a fire I sit in front of watching, always watching. Sometimes I'm not even looking at the fire but the reflection in my eyes would make it seem like I was. A fire still burning, flames still raging.
I feel somewhat like a vampire. I am here but it's like nobody knows I exist. I want to tell people I am here but it goes against everything I stand for. I am far from humanity, far from being sane. Where I live it's always dark and always snowing. And I have a cabin where I just stay always. There are lights in my house but I leave them off. The only thing on in my house is a fire I sit in front of watching, always watching. Sometimes I'm not even looking at the fire but the reflection in my eyes would make it seem like I was. A fire still burning, flames still raging.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Beauty
by Deanna Thompson
What makes things beautiful?
I would like to start by saying beauty to me comes from within oneself. It could mean several different kinds of beauty. I think a smiling face is beautiful, a happy person, someone being nice, showing love. All of these things are beautiful! Flowers in the spring, children playing, holding hands, simply saying, "I love you"!
How do we make things beautiful in jail?
I would like to tell you it starts the same from within oneself. A happy face, saying hello, someone being nice, getting to go to Rec for fresh air. Oh how beautiful. To some girls it's color pencil make-up--which makes them feel so beautiful. To others it's receiving mail that makes us smile or cry, it's still great. To others it's decorating the walls with pictures of family, tearing up shirts to make hair ties or curtain tie backs for your towels on your bunk! It is beautiful, makes it look so homey! To drawing a big clock on your wall above your desk! Wow mine is beautiful. My room rocks! Dream-catchers made out of string, letters that smell like your lover because they have sprayed them, or tear-outs from magazines where they have sample perfume. Oh how nice. Bottom line life is beautiful enjoy every minute.
What makes things beautiful?
I would like to start by saying beauty to me comes from within oneself. It could mean several different kinds of beauty. I think a smiling face is beautiful, a happy person, someone being nice, showing love. All of these things are beautiful! Flowers in the spring, children playing, holding hands, simply saying, "I love you"!
How do we make things beautiful in jail?
I would like to tell you it starts the same from within oneself. A happy face, saying hello, someone being nice, getting to go to Rec for fresh air. Oh how beautiful. To some girls it's color pencil make-up--which makes them feel so beautiful. To others it's receiving mail that makes us smile or cry, it's still great. To others it's decorating the walls with pictures of family, tearing up shirts to make hair ties or curtain tie backs for your towels on your bunk! It is beautiful, makes it look so homey! To drawing a big clock on your wall above your desk! Wow mine is beautiful. My room rocks! Dream-catchers made out of string, letters that smell like your lover because they have sprayed them, or tear-outs from magazines where they have sample perfume. Oh how nice. Bottom line life is beautiful enjoy every minute.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Two Love Psalms
by Isaac Pena
My love for her is endless like the stars in the sky. The passion and desire I have for her burns inside of me and it's as hot as the sun. I'd love to put a beautiful ring around her finger like the glorious rings of Saturn. But the communication we have with each other is like the communication that humans have with aliens. Although she is gone and I can't find her I am still gonna send signals into the heavens to let her know I am not giving up on her.
**
Every time I take a shower I see the scar. It's the scar that I got from Cupid shooting me with one of his enchanted Love arrows. I touch the scar and get a vivid flashback of what used to be and the entire time I was thinking about it I noticed my heart wasn't beating. Was I dying? Without her yes! Was I losing my mind? Without her yes! Will I give up on her? Never!
My love for her is endless like the stars in the sky. The passion and desire I have for her burns inside of me and it's as hot as the sun. I'd love to put a beautiful ring around her finger like the glorious rings of Saturn. But the communication we have with each other is like the communication that humans have with aliens. Although she is gone and I can't find her I am still gonna send signals into the heavens to let her know I am not giving up on her.
**
Every time I take a shower I see the scar. It's the scar that I got from Cupid shooting me with one of his enchanted Love arrows. I touch the scar and get a vivid flashback of what used to be and the entire time I was thinking about it I noticed my heart wasn't beating. Was I dying? Without her yes! Was I losing my mind? Without her yes! Will I give up on her? Never!
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Beauty in Jail
by Jessica Gillman
We have a skylight in here, and the other night we had a thunderstorm. Me, Megan, Rachael put our blankets on the floor and laid on the floor looking up at the lightning, and a tiny glare from a streetlight allowed us to see some of the rain falling. We just laid there and took it all in, all of us wishing we were home to share it with someone we love! We all three lay there completely silent, lost in our own worlds, until the guard came over the speaker to tell us to go to our rooms because it's midnight. We all wiped away our tears as we came back to the realization that we are here!
Some nights when I can't sleep, I wait to hear the train that I can hear through my window. It comforts me, for one it reminds me of being a kid at home with mom and dad and on the other hand reminds me there's still a world out there I have to get back to, that I need to laern to see the beauty in.
Physical beauty: the other day we made hair curlers out of toilet paper. They worked.
So in all I think beauty inside us lies with our innocence inside us, our true unselfish selves. People who can find that in theirselves and let it shine are beautiful.
We have a skylight in here, and the other night we had a thunderstorm. Me, Megan, Rachael put our blankets on the floor and laid on the floor looking up at the lightning, and a tiny glare from a streetlight allowed us to see some of the rain falling. We just laid there and took it all in, all of us wishing we were home to share it with someone we love! We all three lay there completely silent, lost in our own worlds, until the guard came over the speaker to tell us to go to our rooms because it's midnight. We all wiped away our tears as we came back to the realization that we are here!
Some nights when I can't sleep, I wait to hear the train that I can hear through my window. It comforts me, for one it reminds me of being a kid at home with mom and dad and on the other hand reminds me there's still a world out there I have to get back to, that I need to laern to see the beauty in.
Physical beauty: the other day we made hair curlers out of toilet paper. They worked.
So in all I think beauty inside us lies with our innocence inside us, our true unselfish selves. People who can find that in theirselves and let it shine are beautiful.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Beauty
by Megan Slone
Beauty to me is what you make it. It all depends on your own outlook on things.
In here we make things beautiful by tie-dying clothes and strings, tying those strings to our bunks and we make flowers out of toilet paper, dream catcher out of string, paste pictureses and magazine pictures on our walls.
As far as making ourselves pretty, Rozart and Crayola are great for makeup. We can make curling rods out of toilet paper and I was just told how to straighten hair with two hot water bottles. We can also make necklaces and rings and bracelets with string and Jolly juice makes for good hairspray!
Beauty to me is what you make it. It all depends on your own outlook on things.
In here we make things beautiful by tie-dying clothes and strings, tying those strings to our bunks and we make flowers out of toilet paper, dream catcher out of string, paste pictureses and magazine pictures on our walls.
As far as making ourselves pretty, Rozart and Crayola are great for makeup. We can make curling rods out of toilet paper and I was just told how to straighten hair with two hot water bottles. We can also make necklaces and rings and bracelets with string and Jolly juice makes for good hairspray!
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Who Would Write the Story of my Life?
by Megan Slone
I would pick my mother to write my story cause she has seen me through almost everything. She also seen it through a different perspective. She would tell about how I was adopted at birth and I grew up as an only child always getting what I want never having to suffer the consequences of my own actions. I never got spanked or grounded or put in time-out. I was however now allowed to spend the night at my friends' or go anywhere till I was 15 but even then it was one sleep-over per weekend and the other night I had to be home by seven. At fifteen I got my first job, got my first car at 15 1/2 (I bought it), then I got my first boyfriend, went to my party, smoked my first boat, showed + on my first pregnancy test and had my first (and only miscarriage). At 16 I got my license and from there I started doing meth daily and stuff went downhill...Then I met my husband at 17. I was pregnant again, stopped doing drugs, had my daughter at 18, got a house, 2 cars, nice job, great daughter, worthless husband. By 19 I lost it all to meth again. Now I am 20 and in prison looking at an A + C felony.
I would pick my mother to write my story cause she has seen me through almost everything. She also seen it through a different perspective. She would tell about how I was adopted at birth and I grew up as an only child always getting what I want never having to suffer the consequences of my own actions. I never got spanked or grounded or put in time-out. I was however now allowed to spend the night at my friends' or go anywhere till I was 15 but even then it was one sleep-over per weekend and the other night I had to be home by seven. At fifteen I got my first job, got my first car at 15 1/2 (I bought it), then I got my first boyfriend, went to my party, smoked my first boat, showed + on my first pregnancy test and had my first (and only miscarriage). At 16 I got my license and from there I started doing meth daily and stuff went downhill...Then I met my husband at 17. I was pregnant again, stopped doing drugs, had my daughter at 18, got a house, 2 cars, nice job, great daughter, worthless husband. By 19 I lost it all to meth again. Now I am 20 and in prison looking at an A + C felony.
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Dancen
by Summer Jaynes
[Writing Teacher's Note: It is my belief that Summer's voice comes across more clearly when her syntax and grammar is left as it is. I have corrected her spelling, and some of her punctuation, for purposes of clarification. Summer wrote this piece with almost no punctuation and with no paragraph divisions. I have split it up into a few paragraphs. I hope that the integrity of the piece is preserved. It is still titled "Dancen" because that's how Summer spells "Dancing."]
My grandmother is my motherly role model. She has raised me off and on my whole life. When I was 4-years-old she put me in dance classes. I have been in tap, jazz, ballet, gymnastics. I quit when I was 10. I use to love to dance, just to learn new moves and I love music to hear other people and their stories in songs, when I dance I feel like I'm another person. I remember at the end of the year we would have a rehearsal all the girls would put make-up on and get our hair done. My grandma would get my hair done at her stylist. She even used to put hair spray on my pantyhose so they didn't rise up. I loved the attention from her, I would dance my best try to win awards. I loved being on stage the lights on you, not every girl could dance it's a gift my grandmother told me. I only won two times I was so happy, my dad came to watch only once and that time was one of the times I won. I felt like he was so proud of me. I quit because I kept missing classes then I moved to California with my mother. But when I got older, I used to go to the club just to dance. At that point in my life I only used drugs not drink so everyone would ask me why I used to go to the club if I wasn't gonna get drunk--because I loved dancing.
As I got older I became a stripper. The first time I ever danced I was so nervous. I walked in it was so dark there was black lights everywhere the stage was lit up with different colors and two poles. I never seen a pole before. There was around 10 men there and I went up to the bar and asked if I could do a audition. At the time my mother was a stripper there so they said go ahead get dressed you can start tonight. I was so scared. So I walk up these big stairs to go to the dressing area. There was another six girls in the dress room they was so pretty I was so scared I thought everyone was gonna laugh at me. So I pick this sparkly skirt and a top that match it was hot pink. I bought some clothes in Fort Wayne with some clear 6-inch high heel shoes you could open the bottoms and put your money in there they was clear. So I walk downstairs the DJ was real nice she said, "Honey don't be scared just go dance for two dances then come down offstage. Go up to the guys ask them if they want a lap dance or a VIP. What songs do you want to dance to?" I'm super scared now. I had no idea what a lap dance or VIP event meant. So I pick "Follow Me" by Uncle Cracker and "Crazy Bitch" by BuckCherry. I just sat in the DJ booth for like 30 minutes watching the other girls. Then it was my turn...The DJ called my name: "Sunshine to brighten our Day come on up." Sunshine. It's been my nickname for years. So I walk up to the stage. I started dancing my first customer came to the stage. I went up to him and dance in front of him he throws three $5 bills then another guy come said "Damn you have nice tits, can I see?" So I take my shirt off he gave me a $20 a few other guys came up tip me three more $5 bills. I was done with my dances. I was so happy. No one laughed! They like me most.
The guys came up and I made more in 15 minutes than I would have waitressing two jobs all day. So I got off stage and went got a drink of 7-Up I watch the other girls to see what a lap dance was. So I walk up to this mid age man ask him if he wanted a lap dance he said yeah I turn around putting my butt all over him in his face then turn around shook my tits in his face he smelled like beer old beer and smoke and sweat it made me sick but then all the really cute guys came in they was my age they all ask me to give them a dance I was so excited. I couldn't believe these fine ass guys wanted me. My X-boyfriend/babyDaddy always told me I was ugly and no other guy would want me. So to get attention from these men made me feel wanted, I love it so for the first six months I was on Cloud 9 I believed I was pretty and my body was beautiful. It's like you're two different people. Summer/Sunshine. I was a mom, provider, loving person then at night I was a wild, outspoken, sexy woman every man wanted when I got onstage. I got rid of all the stress in my life I could be anyone every outfit had a different person to be.
But it got old fast. Every girl changes. At the end I hated dancing. Now I'm too fat from being locked up. Stripping is exercise. I would never go back to stripping. I started feeling used. None of the guys really liked me. They only liked my body they look at me like I was a piece of meat. Then they thought I was a hoe only because I was a stripper. I never took no man home from the club I would throw all their numbers away or give it to the bartender. When my friends came to visit me I wouldn't dance I would sit with them drink beer. I never wanted them to see how disgusting I was degrading myself. I started drinking and using drugs again, selling them to the other girls buying them from men in the club or other dancers. My life seemed like it was a toilet I was getting flushed down the hole further, further in the sewer nowhere else to go.
But I couldn't stop I needed the money. Being a single parent this was the best thing to happen to me. I remodeled my house, bought a car, trailer, clothes for me and the kids. I could afford to take trips with my children. I gave my kids money every day just go go to the store to buy candy or whatever they wanted. And I only worked 3-4 days. I could spend so much more time with my children. If they was sick I could call in, if I didn't want to go I didn't have to. What other job could you do that without being fired? I felt stuck. Then my X-boyfriend told my son. My son Destin was only 8-years-old. I told him I only dance for people no I never took no clothes off. He asked me to stop he didn't like me doing that. His words, I got upset, told him I couldn't, we need the money. He liked going places and buying X-Boxes, toys. Plus, I got to stay home a lot. He got mad every time I went to work for three months. I cried that night he told me I felt so ashamed of myself. But I was hooked to the money. I found out from a wise man, "Money is the root of all evil."
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Life as an Inmate
by Marc Greene
Life as an inmate in this county jail
You're sure is not heaven, but very close to hell
Is it because of a woman, or maybe even your wife
Has she taken all you got, now she wants your life
Don't give in to all the pressure, or even all the pain
There is so much more out there, for all of us to gain
So when you get that letter, from the love of your past
It's a gift sent from heaven, the woman that will last
So as you sit in your cell, wondering what to do
Pick up that Bible of yours, and read a verse or two
For the answers of life are in there, if only you can see
A wonderful life awaits you, the one that was meant to be
Write your letters back and forth, and let her know you care
For the future has meaning, that you both want to share
Put it down on paper, as you do all of this time
And soon you'll be together, there won't be the need
For another rhyme.
Friday, April 2, 2010
One Cold Day
by Shane Senter
My life was headed for the drain
Things got crazy and I had to change
One cold day I was out of control
The drug abuse made me a monster
Things got crazy and I had to change
So the Lord above wrapped me in golden chains
The drug abuse made me a monster
Every day I would get high--curse & holler
So the Lord above wrapped me in golden chains
He sat me down here to change my ways
Every day I would get high--curse & holler
Now I'm starting life over with a clean slate
My life was headed for the drain
He sat me down here to change my ways
Now I'm starting life over with a clean slate
One cold day I was out of control
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Psalm
by Deanna Thompson
Memories flood my mind
like a river of fire
The pain and suffering
Clouds my thoughts
Unable to forgive and forget
I sit lonely by myself watching
Watching each person slowly pass by
I beg to be able to soon forgive
The one I love so dearly in my heart
No visits, no mail, no money
It seems as if he does not care
Allow me the strength to soon forgive
Please allow my head and my heart
to be wiped clean of the pain and misery
It is slowly eating me
from the inside out
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
The Top of the Hill
by El Chato
Climbing the hill and staying on top is the place you wanna be.
All the beautiful things you can have and see.
Like a firefighter climbing the ladder to its highest peak
Rescuing his tragic heroine is no job for the weak
A loyal and hard-working factory worker dedicated to his job
Fourteen years of his life finally paying off
Giving orders and making sure everything is in its place
Being the main plant manager was his faith
Making the right choices and thinking ahead
When shit hits the fan you have to have a strong head
Not everybody can do it, but anybody can be true
To who you are and stick to the plan, to stay
On top of the hill and always have the upper hand
Monday, March 29, 2010
Little Boat
by Isaac Peña
I sat on my boat day after day waiting to find land. I get my telescope every night to look over the horizon hoping and wishing and Island will come into view but it never does. Sometimes I feel like I've been cursed by the gods and I should give up hope. But if the gods really cursed me Poseidon would make waves to destroy my boat. So I'll continue my voyage out on this sea. And if I can't find an island, maybe an island will find me.
Sunday, March 28, 2010
Commissary (a Pantoum)
by Ashley Elliott
I'm getting fat
always wanting a dip
can't live without commissary
coffee at my side ready to sip
Always wanting a dip
A soup right before bed
coffee at my side ready to sip
I'm so heavy walking makes my face red
A soup right before bed
piles of fat cake wrappers
I'm so heavy walking makes my face red
eating a sleeve of crackers at a time
I'm getting fat
piles of fat cake wrappers
eating a sleeve of crackers at a time
can't live without commissary
Saturday, March 27, 2010
A Guide for Life
by Deanna Thompson
Well with the life I have lead by making my own choices, I choose God to be my leader! I will follow him til the end of my days. I will take every path he shows me! He is awesome!
I really don't know what to write about, I am lost for words! I know I'm here for a reason! It probably saved my life. Well I know it did! It was him that helped land me here! He gave me a chance to take my own roads and every one of them were destructive!
It has put a lot of strain on my relationship with my children. Especially my 13-year-old. This is a time in her life when she really needs me and I'm not there. The sad part is I wasn't there when I was out either. I was lost in sin and most of all addictions! It's really sad now that my mind is clear and I realize it! I am really praying for her forgiveness! My 16-year-old on the other hand is very hurt but she is there she loves me anyway! She is my girl! maybe she's just better at hiding her pain and anger and trying to be strong for me, maybe it's the age! Not real sure which but I am so thankful she is there the way she is! It helps me to deal with my younger one a little easier.
As for my relationship with the man I love it seems to be getting better. He has came clean and sober! It has made a big difference in him! He comes to see me on visits he brings my daughter. They leave me money when they have it, and I've been getting a little mail, not as much as I would like but who can complain! God does answer prayers these are some prime examples!
Friday, March 26, 2010
Psalm
by Cynthia Funderburk
My hate is cutting me off
From the sunlight of the Spirit
I'm consumed by my Heavy Heart
I'm begging God to help me Love.
My heart longs to be free
But the chains of unforgiveness
Weigh me down
Pulling at me
Like quicksand.
I look in my Dad's eyes,
He doesn't know who I am.
He doesn't know what he has done.
I come back to my cell and
drop to my knees.
I'm begging you Lord
Let me turn this over to you.
I'm blinded by my tears
But they're not just for the
Hurt he inflicted. I cry
because I remember loving
Him too. I start to remember
some good times too. I cry
because God has shown
himself to me again.
Forgiveness brings my God to me.
He forgives me too.
God is love, there's
no room for resentment
when you walk in the
Light.
The chains are off me
My yolk is lightened
Even though I'll never hear
"I'm sorry"
My heart is no longer hardened
Forgiveness makes this no longer
Something that will
Bind me to this world.
I have placed my
Hope in the Lord.
With him all things are possible.
Praise the Lord...Amen.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
A True Poem About Myself that is Kind
by Shane Senter
Once upon a time in a enchanted place called the Hills, lived a boy named Shane...who had no brothers nor sisters. But a lot of imaginary friends, he grew up fast went through school and then had a lot of real friends. He loved to go fishing, and at at 13 took up music "The Guitar." He was a good kid, only angry when someone or something was angry with him, through teenage years of 15 met his first love "Amanda" which was very serious, and fun!
This dude had a band at age 16 and played a lot of Big Boy Party's and places. Second love came along "Rhonda" who broke his heart but gave him his only son Michael! Awesome!! So I love that boy a lot. Michael brought my family closer together Me-Mom-Dad-& Mikey are really close to each other. They are my everything! So there is a kind ending to this it's called unconditional love for family. Life is but a mist that quickly evaporates, so be thankful & kind in your walk of life.
Friday, March 12, 2010
Christmas in Jail
by Jessica Burchett
December 23, 2009. I try my hardest to forget what day of the month it is. Each time I hear a Christmas song, I want to scream. My son, Jarred Walker Burchett, pops into my mind as "Frosty the Snowman" comes on TV. I picture his small, two-year-old body unwrapping gifts, having a fun time. While I sit on a cold hard picnic table eating bland tasteless food. Never in a million years would I give up my son's second Christmas by choice. I want to sit and watch his little face light up with joy as he opens all the gifts. Wrapping paper all over the floor, my dad in the background cussing like a sailor while he tries to put together the new toys. The smell of Christmas dinner filling the small house. Instead, I see no snow, no gifts, or joy. I sit along in my bunk waiting for the new year to come. I feel no need to get out of bed or make any effort. I messed up my life and now I am really feeling the effects of it. No joy or holiday cheer for me this year. If we are lucky the lunch tray may contain ham and a few other surprises. Either way I will still feel no joy. I plan to lay in bed and try to sleep the day away. It is only one more day of the year. Coming and going just like yesterday and the day before.
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