Tuesday, February 5, 2013

The following are responses to a prompt about character development. In each response from the men in H-Unit, a character is sketched.


Character Development

A-Beth, 28 years old, 5’2 120 lbs., (birthplace) England, (favorite food) Hawaii poi
poi, (favorite music) opera, (allergies/disabilities) shit and dirt, (pet peeves) pudos

(Vices) Goes to the bar and drinks beer with long-haired hippies, one of which is her
boyfriend who listens to punk rock.

They live at the camp spot down by the dump. Their neighbors are squirrels, rats,
dogs, and people who come down and give them tickets. They have some friends
who are convicts. They have a house built from liquor store cardboard and plastics.
She dresses from the Goodwill box.

Her dad’s in prison from drunk driving, and lives in California. Her mom is in jail
too from shoplifting cigarettes. They caught her red-handed. The other family is
unknown.
She doesn’t like her family. She liked her grandparents who raised her in England,
but they died, and now she is a cashier at an auto store. She likes new wave punk,
and having a bad hair day.

Her boyfriend sells dope, and gets in trouble for selling to the wrong people
(undercover informants). He is still out, but England PD is out to get him. His name
is Rob.

They have a two year old Rottweiler named Bones. “Bomboo” Bones has a sister
named Jackie.

They’ve spent a lot of time in the courts, but in the Bronx where there are
connections for good times, and there is good punk.
She studies witchcraft. She’s a good person to be around when happy, but she has
mood swings and chases the highs.
Their weakness is jealousy. She would die to have it her way.

- Anonymous (H-unit)


Thibedeax LeBaron, 30 years old (looks 45), 5’8’’, (birthplace) Queens, (hobbies)
slinging cocaine, (favorite kind of music) jazz, addict, dislikes panhandlers – he says,
“Get a job!”
(Vices) Snorting cocaine

He lives on the lower east side in a studio apartment high rise. He services tenants
with bags of coke.
His mother lives in Queens, worries, lives on small social security income, and has
gout and giant varicose veins. His dad disappeared when Thibeduax was eleven. He
was a heavy drinker and violent. Good riddance.

His family has a long line of alcoholics. He gets his mom groceries weekly.
He is single.
He likes to date local street level sex workers, paying in cash and/or cocaine.
He has pet rats. Catch and kill.
Once Thibideax went to upstate New York and saw Niagara Falls. He occasionally
hits the amusement park on Staten Island.

He is not easily bothered by life – generous to women in his life. Good work ethic.
His weaknesses are sex, drugs, and rock and roll. He would fight or die for a good
high.

-Anonymous (H unit)

J-5, 506 years old, 300 lbs. 7’2’’, (birthplace) Cybertronics Technology Lab, Berkeley
CA circa 2012, (favorite food) High Octane motor oil, (hobbies) downloading
programs, (favorite music) electronic, no allergies or disabilities, dislikes loading
(Vices) Wasting electricity

Lives in the Trypodal X-71 spacecruiser in the nebula galaxy.
His family members are factory-designed hospitalitgrobots with a specialization in
data management and microwaving food.

-Anonymous (H unit)


Jarah, 14 years old, 110 lbs., (birthplace) Kenya, (favorite food) French fries,
(hobbies) running, (favorite kind of music) Reggae, allergic to pollen, dislikes
mean people
(Vices) Biting finger nails

Jarah lives in Kenya with mom and lots of brothers and sisters inside a small
house. The neighbors are kind people.
There is a loving mother and a supportive, hard working father. Jarah gets along
with parents, but argues with brothers and sisters.
Jarah is single. Jarah has a dog. They are best friends and the dog’s name is Buck.
Jarah hasn’t lived or traveled anywhere else.
Jarah is independent. Jarah is too prideful, and would fight or die for family.

-Anonymous (H unit)
The Following are responses to a prompt in which we focused on the poetic form Villanelle (G-Unit).



Caged Lovers

No sunrise or sunset is magnificent
No full moon on the ocean is shimmering
Closing my eyes to see your face
Really trying to remember your taste
Our love is strong and true, but what are we
The caged lovers to do?
Wrongfully accused! My love, in his cage,
I pray he remains sane.
If we both close our eyes at the same time
Can we mentally connect for just a moment?
Maybe we do and that’s why I’ve remained true
A kiss through the glass just does no justice
But to look in your eyes and to see our love is
Not a lie, makes both our hearts shine.
Now back to my cage to fantasize of
Your face. I know you are more than likely
Doing the same. In your cage dreaming of my face,
Longing to remember my taste
Either way, still both in our cage,
We remain. I miss you!

-S.



Madness to Love

Madness, my life has become
Wasted love that negativity has so won

All my life I waited for true love
Ripped fast away
No night, no day

Madness my life has become
Negativity has caught this one, has caught this one

Looking for just one thing
True, pure happiness
No night, no day
Time push me away
Over my life, I have no say

Madness my life has become
Cause I feel I love no one

-M.T.



Untitled

Free me,
I am not asking
I’m wanting
Free me,
I am not telling
I’m needing
Free the soul my body graved
I am not asking
I’m wanting

Free me
I’m in need
I cannot grow
So I’m a dead seed
Free me
Like water to soul
To sun I just want to grow
And become
And become

-M.T.



These Walls

These walls are closing in
I’m having trouble dealing
I ask god to forgive my sins

I ask myself when
Will it stop being appealing
These walls are closing in

I might go to the Pen
I’m not easily healing
I ask god to forgive my sins

These wounds are hard to mend
My envelopes I keep sealing
These walls are closing in

Locked up in a den
White walls are concealing
I ask god to forgive my sins

I can no longer pretend
That this place is not stealing
These walls are closing in
I ask god to forgive my sins

-S.


The following are responses to a Slam Poetry prompt about issues that the women in G-Unit feel passionate about.


My Un-Edited Un-Rhyming Hood Poem

Who are you to be the one to say
My actions aren’t righteous
And yours are the way

I’m over the she said, she said
I want a little more me said
Maybe if we’re lucky we can get a little more he said

When do I get seniority?
When do I call the shots?
I wanna be Big Mama, let me carry the gaup

Forget the gaup
That’s what started this mess
Let me be your voice of reason
I can relieve your stress

-R.S



January 2, 2013

…I really haven’t had time to collect my thoughts at this point…
Although you would think that being in here…being institutionalized
You would have plenty of time to collect your thoughts
And decifer the good and the bad and separate the two
But actually it couldn’t be further from the truth.
Being locked up in jail makes you uptight, angry, defensive, on guard,
Emotionally elevated, and pushed as far as you can go!
It is a constant battle from yourself and those around you.
It is a deferment of your true emotions…
I am a caring, loving, true, real person
And I find that in here they don’t deserve to see the real me…
Because it’s not real in this hell…
So I’m just over it. I can focus on when I return to reality
In the real world…
This is not reality,
It is a nightmare

-M.N.



Untitled

There are so many people in jails because of police.
There are frustrated homeless who take over buildings
Cuz they themselves have no peace.
Church-goers claiming Jesus can save my soul
Could someone save my arm please?
They won’t sell clean needles
Now look at this hole.
There is beauty everywhere in everyone.
Even homeless drug-addicts, for real.
So why am I missing my husband?
Now my freedom is all I ever plan to steal.

-A.R.



Untitled

Homeless people on the street
The government is not doing anything
Drug addicts everywhere
The cops harassing everyone

Homeless people being chased away
No where we can stay
Getting ticketed for everything
Not even sleeping we can

Ticket for camping
Ticket for smoking
Even ticket for being in the park after dark
Ticket on ticket on ticket for everything

Seeing many of my friends going in and out of jail
Wish it was me, but it’s not

Homelessness is not loneliness

-T.A.



Untitled

Stupid cliques doing hunger strike tricks
I’ll be on the street stackin’ chips
Magical fingertips, miss kissing his lips
Scared of L.W.O.P. and what he might get
“One day at a time”, the thought makes me sick
Drunks on the street have more freedom than me
Violent acts are not the answer
Trust that you, me
Believe poverty happening all over the world
Our government holds AK47’s to the heads of eight-year-old girls
Third world countries are sick and make me nauseaus…wait…hurl…

Incarceration

It’s gonna be awhile until I am free
I am sad and definitely miss my homies
I want to cry so daily I do
I know I didn’t say in enough but I miss all of you
Thank you for the support: Letters keep me sane
I’m having trouble dealing
Going through a lot of pain
Please don’t forget about me, we got a long road ahead
I can’t believe this nightmare is a reality instead
Scared of what I might lose
Some friends and years of my life
Life’s too short to spend on lockdown
Dealing with all of this strife
I am one who believes in Fate and live with no regrets
But I’m sorry to my family
And to all my unpaid debts
Let’s just hope the future will bring sunshine instead of rain
Let’s just hope over the next few years I do not go insane
Like I asked before
I will ask once again
Please don’t forget about me
Even if I go to the Pen
Write me, write me, write me
Please and don’t forget
Never give up hope for me
And never have regrets

-S.