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Poems From Night Auditor
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| Poems From Prison |
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| Only Birds Are Born To Fly |
| Introduction |
You won't see it in the charts that show America's prison population has grown to 1.7 million. You won't read it in the studies that show which classes of crimes are rising and which are falling. You won't hear it from the reporters who are told that sensationalism, not journalistic balance is what keeps the ratings up and thus keeps them employed. But still, you know it's true: Each one of those 1.7 million incarcerated men and women is a human being. And as such, each has at least that in common with every other man and woman, free or imprisoned, American or Brazilian, white or black, rich or poor. It is the first fundamental truth upon which our government was founded: All humans are created equal. Although we will always rise and fall in esteem in someone's eyes, we cannot fall below the base of created equality from which we all begin life.
No, you won't see the word human in the pie charts and bar graphs that show the 100% increase in America's prison population since 1985. But you will see undeniable evidence of it here, in the poems of inmates doing time at Maryland's Eastern Correctional Institution. These men don't claim to be poets, only humans wishing to express themselves. They are working toward getting their GED in ECI's adult literacy program.
Michael D. Nauton |
| A Loved One's Journey |
Her hands were wrinkled and folded,
her old gray head bowed low;
her shoulders were stooped and hunched over
her speech labored and slow.
"You know, soon I'll cross the river,
over the bridge that spans the times
for a home I have waiting in Glory.
Yes, soon I'll start my climb.
"My loved ones will run to meet me,
all the ones gone before.
But first I must see my Jesus,
for I'll dwell with Him there evermore."
Then her voice was silent
and her old eyes filled with tears.
I thought how much I'll miss her,
for I've loved her so many years.
I remember a woman much younger
who loved her Savior so dear.
Now she was old and useless,
and she knew her end was near.
She was ready to cross the river
and into the arms of her God,
to walk on those blessed holy shores
where Angels' feet had trod.
I told her how much I'd miss her
and her whole face raised in a smile.
"Don't begrudge me my journey,
for it's just for a little while.
"Why the next time you see me I'll be younger,
and I won't be sick and old.
Why, I'll come out to meet you
and we'll walk down those streets of gold."
Ah, the years that have passed since that parting!
And the words that she spoke were so true.
I'm anxiously waiting to meet her
up there beyond the blue.
Wilbur Miller
#254773
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| Still Together |
As the days progress,
my thoughts for you
get stronger and never regress.
Although a distance apart
and time is our test,
I'll love you for infinity
and nothing less.
Like a miracle with you
I've truly been blessed,
and through these divine words
my heart and my soul
must confess.
Beautiful woman your spirit
is as strong as
thunder that crashes
with violence.
Beautiful woman your spirit
is as soft and tender
as winds that whisper
in the night time.
Beautiful woman your soul
is like the sun
that gives life
to all the earth.
Beautiful woman your soul
is also like the
clouds that bring
the rainy days.
In simple words,
what I'm trying to say is,
your presence is
like natural life,
and from that
I could never stray.
Donte Pratt
#266920
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| Fireworks |
The flame was bright,
red, yellow and blue
with a spark of white.
It came suddenly,
breathtaking.
I couldn't put it out.
Water did nothing to its
color, nor could I smother it
with a spade of dirt.
It didn't light up the whole house,
only a few feet.
It was pretty,
but all too sudden.
It was a gun shot,
and the lust of another.
Depression
For so long
I've waited for the chance
to show you
my dee-pest gratitude
for being a true friend.
Yes, you are.
Through thick and thin you stand beside me
never failing to come whan I call.
When the sun is too bright
you stand as my shade.
I can never forget,
never will I let you forget
how much you mean to me.
A Thought From Lock-up
I watch the clouds moving East.
The sun hangs in the middle of the sky,
captive.
I'm being seduced.
As the clouds caress my soul,
I'm caught in the rapture of their
omnipresent beauty.
So animated am I as my heart sings words
my mind can't pronounce;
yet in the song is understanding
of all that I see:
Clouds . . .
Sun . . .
and life as it
shows us the love we seek.
Saint John Boyd II
#201964 |
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