More poems from San Quentin

More poems from Carlos, who is currently hunger striking at San Quentin's Adjustment Center.  The Adjustment Center is a Special Housing Unit (S.H.U.) inside of Death Row.  Carlos keeps a personal support blog here.

For more information about the ongoing hunger strike, which prisoners have organized to protest the inhumane conditions of solitary confinement, please go here.  Also, if you're interested in becoming a penpal, please send an e-mail to the Human Rights Penpal Project at cws@igc.org.



Never Unscathed

I am just a man
Who is trying to survive
In this miserable place
Doing all I can
To maintain my sanity
In a place that requires you
To be a bit insane.

For how else am I to overcome
And survive this psychological torture?
Survive the evil within this dungeon
That I've come to call
Death Dormitory
Hoping the scars aren't many
Yet knowing I'll come out a different man,
Though how so is yet to be seen.

For one never leaves these dormitories
Unhinged or unscathed
No matter how one struggles
To survive in this mieserable place
Whose claws forever leave their mark.


Untitled

California's San Quentin State Prison ...
Death Row prisoners' final home
Holds a "compartment" 
Its own secret "dungeon"
called the Adjustment Center
Built to house the "worst of the worst"
And confine them to this unit alone
Isolated from everyone
Not for safety or security reasons
But to inflict their torturous practices
Onto those prisoners they hold in disdain
See how long they can last
Before they're broken ...
Before they cry out for help 
Which goes unheeded.
Recall what I said earlier
Built to house "the worst of the worst"
So violence must be dealt to the violent
That is their philosophy
And the outside world has ignored it
Ignored it for far too long.
It is why we've opened up this hidden compartment
And placed our lives on the line.
Streaming out our stories
Showing you the truth
Hoping you'll accept it is as harsh as it is
And help us correct these horrendous "practices"
This injustice ...


Untitled - written on 7/13/13

This is a difficult test
A test of my will power
And mind over matter.
As each stomach cramp passes
I double over in pain
Hugging myself in hopes
That'll ease the pain
But that's only the beginning
'Cause afterwards the squirts come
Worse than any diarrhea
I ever had
As nothing but water pours
I tell the others,
"Trust no fart!"
Which gets me an uproar of laughter
Ironically easing my pain
And giving me comfort
As we go on day six of our hunger strike
And test my capabilities each passing day


When Will Solitary End?

I sit in solitary confinement, 
Monitored and evaluated
Psychologically tested,
Tortured in more ways than I care 
To remember or burden you with,
With hopes I'd crack and beg,
Beg to be let out of this torturous place
And crack, losing the bit of sanity I have left
Like so many others before me and so many others
Yet to fall, fall prey to the prison's administrators
To the countless tactical torturous games they play.

I am but one of the few hundred who still stand strong,
Fighting to survive, accumulating deep embedded scars
With each passing day, learning to be resilient to all
That's thrown and piled up against me
In such a difficult, miserable place.

Lonely and deprived of so much, I sit here
Beyond desperate for a helping hand, for something,
Someone, for a movement, for human rights lawyers
And all the advocates out there to put an end
To this heinous practice of solitary confinement
And take me away from this place with my dignity intact.
I hope it's soon, before many more fall prey
And lose themselves in this dungeon of hell and misery
That's been in place for far too long.


Untitled

My actions will soon come
Hoping that they'll draw the attention needed 
To end this heinous practice
Once and for all.
The practice of solitary confinement.
The day quickly approaches when I'll refuse to eat,
When my body and mind will be tested
And sacrificed for the greater good,
For this peaceful protest, this hunger strike,
That's my only form of seeking relief,
My last outcry for help
And support,
To come together and end these death dungeons.


Untitled

What will it take to realize that time is essential
To one's sanity within these circumstances,
To one's self-respect and humanity?
What will it take to end solitary confinement?
Is 33 suicides in these dungeons last year alone enough?
Enough, for you, my captors?
Or shall I succumb in this hunger strike as well,
Before you realize something is amiss here?
What will it take?
Please, tell me, tell us, what?

Poems from San Quentin's Adjustment Center

These poems were shared with a friend from his penpal, Carlos, who is currently hunger striking at San Quentin's Adjustment Center.  The Adjustment Center is a Special Housing Unit (S.H.U.) inside of Death Row.  Carlos keeps a personal support blog here.

For more information about the ongoing hunger strike, which prisoners have organized to protest the inhumane conditions of solitary confinement, please go here.  Also, if you're interested in becoming a penpal, please send an e-mail to the Human Rights Penpal Project at cws@igc.org.



Hope

What has brought an immense population of inmates together
For once,
All racial lines and barriers, erased
Forming a unity amongst thousands
And a united group, one body
Tired of the injustice that plagues this world
The cruel methods being practiced
With the false pretense that it's for safety
The safety and security of the prison.
For no man or person is different from the next.
All equally capable to inflict pain or bring peace.
What law says subjecting its people
To torture dungeons is acceptable?
If it's not right for animals
Than what makes it right for human beings?
Perhaps it is the cruelty that we have suffered
At the hands of our captors
That make it possible for us to unite
And oppose them.
Or maybe we tire of seeing this done to so many
Of seeing so many being done wrong
Or we finally woke up to the truth and saw reality
That nothing nor no one will help change this
Unless we ourselves become the change
This is so desperately needed.
Whatever the reason may be, one thing I'm certain of
Is that hope is part of our driving force.
Hope for change at last.


Suicide or Insanity?

The yells of a man
Who's deranged
Fill the tier
Speaking non-sense
Speaking to no one,
For hours...
It's obvious he's lost his wits
Still he's left there
Without any help,
Without...
For days.

He used to be alright
People who know him say.
He used to be "normal" ...
What caused that though?
I can't help but ask.

The Adjustment Center ...
Solitary Confinement ...
Is always the answer I get
When I ask how a man went insane.

Then I count how long I've been here
And wonder how long 'til I go insane.

What's left to do besides wait?  I ask them,
My fellow prisoners.
Suicide, they all say.
Suicide or Insanity.
That's what solitary confinement breeds,
Why that deranged man continues to yell
Every single day.

S__'s Uplifting Poem

Melodramatic Sailor Jerry speed addict

Spit flows with no static

Hit you lie an automatic

My lyrics so crisp

so sharp that they diss

all the bunk shit I miss

call it lyrical gifts

Got shit to get out

I'll let you know what I'm about

I ain't getting out

for years with no doubt

But I can' cry or pout

I got to stay sane

with a smile on my face

and good thoughts in my brain

It's part of the game

experience to gain

Reality is that I'll be here a while

But that's the repercussion for acting hostile

Acting without thinking

Letting impulse take control

Signed my soul to the devil

For the speed that I sold

It stole away any conscience I once had

It made me do something stupid just cuz I got mad

So regrets are not needed

not here, not now

We all make mistakes

But some of us allow

the hardships to break us

to weaken our faith

We've got to accept it's all part of Fate

Don't question the battles we struggle to fight

Just know at the end of the tunnel's a light

So sorry if this sick rap faded into a poem

Just got a grip on some real shit that's got to be known

So you see me fighting murder with a smile on my face

It's cuz I'm blessed with insight, acceptance, and grace

-S.G.

The Following are the result of a prompt in which we wrote from the perspective of a raindrop:

Women's Unit

Coming down like rain

such as the experience I've gained

Spent years in the Game

With no regret and no shame

Like an unexpected shower

Such is the mind's power

Mind over matter

I think every hour

It's all up to you

What you really want to do

Your mind is a sanctuary

It makes you You

So forget negativity

You manifest things

Use your brain power

like rain in the spring

Let it be refreshing

useful and cold

Let your mind stay open

Watch miracles unfold

So write about Rain

And things similar

If it weren't for rain

Green grass wouldn't occur

All things would be dry

Undernourished and dead

So use your brain to live happy

and be free instead.

-S.G.

Rain

I knew it was coming

The smell of it almost breathtaking

Gives me chills touching ever so lightly

All over my skin

Almost as cold as the concrete I'm lying on

It was the small things I took for granted

I sit dwelling on how I chose to take the path

yet again

To give another year of my life away

A year taken from my son and newborn girl

Angels I've yet to know

Like little raindrops lost in a world or souls

to be re-cycled to the ocean

Then back to the clouds above....

Sometimes, and now even more so

Now my heart like a raindrop

filled with love

falling from the heavens

Cause my mind's in Cloud 9

Scared as to where it will fall and break

Or should I say splash?

Waiting for the sun to dry away

My heart's broken memories

And the Past

-N.G.

Raindrops

For me raindrops are the beauty and pain

As a small child it wasn't easy to explain

How I came up with the story that God was crying for me

See, his tears had a power and that power was clear

I believed he was sad when he looked through the clouds

To see a young child staring at life already full of doubt

Every time it rained and it stormed

I'd sit alone and look up at the sky

It was the only time I could really cry

Mommy said He was washing my soul

Little did she know

Standing alone out in the cold, storm after storm

One day God's teary raindrop showers

would wash away the only thing I've ever known

Fear became a stranger & Love became my home

-E.

The following are the result of a prompt in which we explain/ describe nicknames we've had:

Women's Unit

The names I was given are hard to live up to~ when I know there are times when I don't feel like waitressing/ or cleanin'

My name has been changed to protect my innocence

When you imagine who I am without even knowing my true name

We can have a conversation and talk for hours on the deepest level -you know me

But you don't know my name

Every morning at roll call, they call out our names

And if we don't answer ~ they start searching

It scares me to think I may not answer

Because of all the facets of my characters and all that I am

Whats in my name ~ so hard to live up to

You gave me my name~ and I shed a tear

Because today I clean the walls and run into them carelessly

I am naked

Without shoes or a bra

And all that's left behind are bluepreints.

-C.J.

5/30/2013

D-Unit

My father's nickname – Trapper Jim

He was giving it his all

Upon the ocean depths of the Bay

He could always find his catch

When other fishermen couldn't

He would crack a beer at sunrise

Followed by a filterless smoke

Unshaved, unbathed, baiting his hooks

His pals would call him on his VHS radio...

“Trapper Jim, where's the fish?”

He'd reply: In my fishbox. See ya on the inside

(Trapper out)

-T. MC

My nickname is Popeye. They call me that because if I didn't like you, I'd pop you in the eye.

So that's how I got my nickname

-R.M.

Greetings Earthlings. My name is Mystic.

I bring to this world- understanding, wisdom and knowledge.

I long for the day that we can coexist with one another and turn up the love.

I am a very mysterious being that seeks truth.

My numbers are 5 and 7.

My magical birthstone is Turquoise.

My ruler planet is Jupiter.

I leave you with the message -Reach for Heaven and you will get Earth.

Reach for Earth and you will get nothing.

I see.

-A.H.

I was given this poem to copy down by S. Was not the result of a prompt.

Mother, Forgive Me

The woman that brought me into this world has gone through so much hurt and pain.

For she don't understand the game,

the lifestyle drove her insane.

Hidden behind her walls she carries my burden, guilt and shame.

I ain't a little girl my needs are no longer the same.

I have an addition beyond my control.

It crept up and took my soul.

All my struggles and sorrows drugs and alcohol got me through

An addict's mind is sick and really believe it's true.

We don't realize that burying ourselves is all we do.

It's a vicious cycle, “we play the fool.”

I'm sorry for letting you down time and time again.

Can't you see I need you to be my friend?

I've lived my life good and bad.

It was my choice, don't blame yourself, don't feel sad.

All my mistakes were lessons in life I had to learn.

I'm ready to brush off my knees and make a drastic turn.

In my own hell I will no longer burn.

Tired of all the tears and jail walls.

I'm ready to shine and stand tall.

Mom, please hold my hand so we can walk a new path.

Let go of my demons, they can haunt us no more.

They were never yours to hold.

You've always done the best you can please understand

You are my mother who I adore.

Please forgive me from your soul's very core.

I'm sorry for breaking your heart.

My addiction won me over from the very start.

It was my own fault.

If I could turn back the hands of time, God knows I would.

I'd turn it back to time when I had you!

I miss your laugh, your beautiful smile!

You're still alive and don't have to walk the green mile.

Let go and set yourself FREE!

Forgive yourself and forgive me!

For my addiction has hurt you more than it hurt me.

Oh God, how could this be?

Open her heart and eyes to help her see.

This was the life God planned for me.

Now my story can save someone like me!

Dedicated to my mother

From: S.A.

The following is the result of a free-write:

Insanity

Is a vicious cycle, we play the fool

So wrapped up in our own thoughts, feelings and wants

Never looking at the big picture

A hunger for a addiction beyond control

takes over our very souls

Believing that drugs and alcohol make us complete

That's a battle where we can't compete

Believeing that life bhind bars is sweet

not valuing freedom, friends and family, our insanity defeats

Insanity believing violence is love

thinking that they hit because they care

Thinking this is all life planned for me

jails institution and death

Not thinking of the ones we've hurt the most

Us You Me and I

-S.A.