Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

the stink was the most tangible thing
the smell of sweat and metal and urine
concrete cured with tears and guilt and memories
the ghastly similarity of prisons

I have a disassociates degree in penology
my major is self-imprisonment
the cage
is for the protection of the occupant

then the sound
the murmurs of conspiracy
the clanging of doors
the metal, always the metal

You are never alone in prison
even in solitary, darkness is solace
either do time or it will do you
I had nightmares about my worst nightmare
until my worst nightmare happened
after that the nightmares stopped

wow. i could hear every clang
the last image is pure slam

I have this nagging dread that I will be falsely accused of a crime and will end up doing time for something I didn't do, like so many behind bars without the means or wherewithal to engage proper representation.....our prison system is a shameful chapter in the history books....and needs to be revised by forward thinking folks that continue to push the issue to the forefront.....poems like this play a part in that....

you are welcome for the macabre tour, judih
it's a good subject to enjoy from afar

saw,
nagging fears are the cause of nightmares

don't even get me started on the ills of our oxymoronic criminal/justice system
you are right, every citizen is entitled to all the justice he can afford

I liked the somehow borgian happy-acid-end of the poem, thanks!!!

The first two lines knocked me straight on my ass.
I'm still looking up.

My jail dreams were sweet dreams of freedom running down route 69 right on through McAllister Oklahoma but I awoke to the nightmare. Nothing I dreaded more than fire, being locked up like that. Since they closed most of the insane asylums when the pharmo companies invented a pill for every condition the prisons seem to have taken over the wharehousing of the wretched. Oh well.

Dream work

the royal road to the unconscious poet/artist in my drams
because only in my dreams do I live. I expect to wake up dead anyday now.

good poem
was it a poem?
what it ever it was it was nice

please pardon ramble