Random pieces, either written outside of the prompts or given to me during workshop.

D-Unit (men's)

Between Two Worlds

The sun sets and the moon rises again,

blessing us with a recipe to conjure.

The harvest moon shines bright,

and my heart is on fire.

It's Fall, and Jupiter has all authority.

I marvel at the night. Reality sets in.

I am no stranger to this event.

Pain, grief, sorrow I fell no more.

I am an orphan of this space--

a spirit stuck between two worlds.

-A.H.

Trapped

I'm trapped in the misery of addiction.

There's a shed in my Mom's backyard.

Usually I stay there and get high.

When I step out to feel the night's cool wind

my thoughts start to wander.

Ghost stories come to mind.

I start hallucinating, see shadows peeking

over the fence in front of me.

I panic, freak out, try to hide behind a bush

with a screwdriver in my hand,

as if a screwdriver could protect me from a ghost.

I wish I was high, and thinking the worst.

-M.S.

H-Unit (women's)

Open my eyes to see life another way

despite the lies.

Won't give in to the fallacy,

smoke chalice,

absence of malice;

I'm diggin' dirt on myself to remove the calloused heart

Astrological chart says I'm power-packed

Sparked a light in the dark

There's no looking back

Babylons hot on my tracks

Systematic destruction,

Karmic consumption.

all the children of the light:

Run and come

Ego diseased...

It's a dis-ease that we can't run from,

but what's done is done.

I've seen friends turn to foe

Cause I spit dope flows with no home.

They don't understand;

I mastermind while following the master's plan.

People trying to scam on my talents

Are you just another man throwing me off balance?

One time.

Who can I trust,

When dark lords reward the ones who betray?

But he who holds the power is also they prey.

Like crushed velvet,

Don't rub me the wrong way.

Cause you get dropped when I get crossed with chop sticks

Hands remain in Namaste

Just cause raw spittin'

I'm here to set the record straight

Just cause

-C.J.

The Following are autobiographical poems:

H-Unit

My Self

Who am I?

Am I the girl who had a baby

at 16 who now attends UCSC

Or am I weak

My Self

Who am I?

Am I the woman who volunteered five years

at the wildlife center

Bonding with a hawk named Weshawee

Which I named my youngest daughter after?

OR to myself... I destruct

My Self

Who am I?

Am I the woman

who helps create a space for marginalized voices

to be heard on the radio dial 94.1

or are the memories too distant

too long?

-S.

Daddy's little girl,

Crazy, suicidal and out of control.

Became a mother at fourteen;

La Vida Loca was the life for me.

Meth crept up and took my soul;

Always ready to smoke a bowl.

Abused and fucked up,

Drugs and alcohol and avoidance were my only tools.

Played the part: happy and cool,

I had a job and sent to school.

Never thought I played the fool,

Met death face to face.

That's what happens when you live

life in a fast pace.

My soul the devil can taste,

Living my life, a total waste.

Jail, institutions and death

is the life promised to me.

Is this really what God planned for me?

Daddy's little girl,

It's never too late.

So I create my own fate.

I'm taking control.

I'm not letting go.

I can't pretend I do not hurt.

But hurtful words I can no longer blurt.

Careless attitude... I've GOT to change.

Why does change feel so strange?

It's time to get my kids,

Time to enjoy life once again,

Hopeful my story can help a friend.

I'm creating a better end.

Blessings God is starting to send,

unnoticed there, no longer a blur.

I'm standing on my feet.

Opening my eyes so I can see.

There is a better life for me.

Real happiness and a piece of mind,

I'm completely ready to find.

I will no longer live my life blind.

A new path I will now walk,

I no longer will talk the talk.

I'm applying new principles to my life;

I want to be a Mommy and a wife.

God, continue to walk and guide me through this path.

Keep me from temptation,

It's time for redemption.

-S.A. 

H-Unit

What the person thinks about

From childhood I've learned about being left alone

In myself with my hand over my face

A one man race

These eyes you can forget

this voice you will imagine

this face in your eyes

connect with mine

We all have a connection

May the souls lead you in the wrong direction

Let this story be told

let these pages in a class book

unfold a boring life

never get old.

These souls follow us from the places that are old

Look what happens when you never listen or do what you're told

My boring life never gets old

This story of Alone

This time I didn't pass. I will ask

This time they ________

Alone in this cell is one mind

A life a hundred years long

Alone in this life. Keep your head

You love yourself only

Could find someone along the path

Only one chance

-There is a soul in a girl's eyes

Sweet little behind your back lies

-J.G.

“This Sucks”

I really don't want to write anything about my childhood.

My life has been like a roller coaster

-M.S.

Childhood to present:

My childhood? My childhood was very unique. I had a wonderful childhood with much pain as well. The good times growing up had to do with having many friends around me with the same family, or similar family problems as me. My parents were very caring as well as non-existent. Drugs and alcohol played a part in how my life made me grow up quick. My parents were very good when they were sober, but when intoxicated or high on drugs, I was left to fend for myself which was sad, but I was blessed to have good friends around me all the time. My friends were the main ones who helped me grow up fast, but my parents were able to teach me right from wrong. I can't complain too much about my childhood because I had my space, freedom and friends. I have been very lucky up to this point in time because I have dodged many bullets. But now that I'm in jail, I feel like my luck has finally run out. I feel very blessed to be in this class right now because for this one hour I don't feel like I'm in jail with a bunch of fucking animals, so I can't complain about the present timing right now. I'm really happy my future won't be ruined, and hoping I can still accomplish all of my childhood goals. I'm gonna stay strong, never give up, and continue to keep ________ . I always gonna be beaten up and bruised at some point in my life, but I know I can make it because I am a very strong person.

-C.R.

The following are responses to a prompt in which we attempted to write our Swan Songs:

D-Unit

Like the swan I too will sing a song

Except my song will be in words, and they'll say:

Fuck! I don't want to die PLEASE GOD GIVE ME ONE MORE CHANCE! I DON'T EVEN HAVE A CHILD TO LEAVE BEHIND!

-N.A.

H-Unit

Don't cry for I am set free

I lived my life as best as I see

Obsessed with the struggle

During life I started to juggle

I'm sorry for the hurt I've caused

For the absent days

For my addictive ways

I ripped us both off

Of memories we never made

Just remember my love was constant,

It never fades

My family and kids, I take you with me

Live your lives as best as can be

Learn from my mistakes

Be caution on every path you take

There will be consequences and lots of choices to make

Remember me as best you can

When times are hard, I'll be holding your hand

We will watch the waves take walks on the sand

You will not see me but you will feel me

I'll never leave you alone

We are bonded from the heart

I cherished you all from the start

I'm sorry we had to part

I'm building our castle in heaven

I'll greet you at the pearly white gate

We will live eternal life. It is our fate.

-S.A.

My last breaths, I wonder how many

Hearts I loved, touched, embraced and broke

Will they remember?

Does it even matter?

Will my angels find me when they return home?

And while I'm gone, may I protect and guide them as my mom has done for me

My last touches will sparkle with flecks of glittered gold

They will be pure, of light, love and passion

After long when I'm forgotten

Those flecks of gold memories will appear

and fill hearts with gold warmth and love

-D.G.

What is the story I leave behind

With my last breath, what truths will we find

Is my song a story of conquering

Or could it be that of one who is conquered

Is it of strength and power

Or of substance and durability

Is it full of beauty untold

Covered away by depression's blanket of cold

Pain, strife, trials and tribulations

Uphill battles, miles and miles of my demons' retribution

This doesn't make my song ugly or sad

In fact, the balance proves true

As deep as your sorrow is as deep as your joy

So in my last few moments my heart will sing

the lyrics to my soul's painful journey this life has allowed me to endure

I will sing with every ounce of energy I have to spare

Because I know my bliss is somewhere beyond out there

-Eyez

The following are from a prompt inspired by the poem “In the Desert,” by Stephen Crane, where we described what our hearts might taste like:

D-Unit

Have you ever taken a bite of something new, something you normally wouldn't go for? But you take a piece anyways, then you nibble to find out that it tastes different. It has a distinct taste that you want more of to find out what flavor it is. In the end, you're left with wanting more. But it's rare. Delicious and rare. My heart

                                                                                                                         -S.L.

I don't know what my heart tastes like because I'm too distracted to taste it

My heart: strives for success and happiness. Unfortunately it's been neglected and damaged for several years due to avoidance; carelessness. Now it tastes like it's ripe because it knows what it wants. Once I get the professional help I need It'll become full of love and sweetness.

                                                                                                                          -N.A

My Heart

My heart has a hard side and a soft side.

The hard side is as cold as ice. It has to numb all feelings to show no weakness or remorse

My soft side is warm and sweet like Bubblicious gum.

It is compassionate towards family and friends. I love to love this side of my heart

It is full of loving memories and new things to come

                                                                                                                           -A.C.

My Heart

My heart, well I can't tell you what it tastes like cuz I don't got a heart. I gave it away to the one I love. I hope she cares for it and loves it cuz without my heart I can't live. It's all I have and it's her I wanted to have it.

                                                                                                                             -I.L.

My heart is like cotton candy

Been through a lot of different places, stomped on and bit on lot's of freakin' times

Landed in different hands, gave them full trust, only to be surprised by abandonment and full of lies!

You see, my heart is tender and sweet

full of stories to be told

I was on the road to love & happiness

But somehow ended up on the road to loneliness

Now loneliness fills my heart with passion that burns

Can somebody please tell me why the road turns?

                                                                                                                             -M.S

H-Unit

 Lonely in chaos

I taste my heart

It is sweet right from the start

There is a tough part

Chewy, slimy afraid & confused

There are so many feelings I'm amused

A new beginning I'm starting to make

My life feels so fake

God, it's yours to take

I'm too tired. I need a break.

                                       -S.A.

It tastes... my heart of darkness

kids' salty tears on Mommy's return home.

Flavored hot-pink lipstick

but please don't be fooled

I'm not alone

My heart has been chewed apart

with tastes of poison and vinegar

washed with bleach and carefully

put back together

With my kids and sweet candy

                                     -D.G.

Smell is as good as taste

As you inhale it could be fake

The sweetness tends to resonate

But take a gander closer

You'll soon find

My heart is one

That few ever get to try

Smooth and sick

Beyond the coarse layer

Bittersweet and sour

The protective boundary

My delicate truth

My privileged center

My own decadence

My taste is that of pain and hurt

Sorrow and love

It is my own.

And to most, it goes unknown

                                       -Eyez

The following are the result of a prompt in which we attempted to dispel myths surrounding the labels that are given to us.

H/D Unit

As an incarcerated person I am undermined as a criminal

Just a number. But in truth, I'm a caring person who cares a lot for other others' well being when possible. Also I'm a father that is kept away from my child and has done everything to be there and to prevent from ever being taken away again.

As a man I've realized that a man is not one who is violent or the strongest and even prejudiced, thathe is the key to the family. I'm a man as a nurturing and understanding person that sees the whole picture. I'm not the key, but the chain that tries to hold things together.

As a writer I express feeling through paper and pencil, which is hard for most but easy for few that let the pencil flow through and let it do its work like it had a mind of its own. Details that could not be explained by words easily come to be in paper with a simple pencil.

As a 20 year old, I'm close to being of drinking age :) yeah

As someone from the ethnic Mexican background, usually kept down, meant to work minimum wage jobs, be in a gang... I've done the impossible and turned my back and set forth to prove this wrong.

As someone with Catholic beliefs, I know God is my savior and have hope to be a better person.

-A.R.

As an incarcerated person there are 3 ongoing battles... 1) The battle against officers 2) The conflicts and controversy against other inmates 3) The worst... the battle against our own imaginations, where out minds can manipulate our hearts.

As a man: The essence of a man is to lead by example, move with conviction, honor and integrity. And to provide for his family. And loyalty to his fellow comrades.

As a 29 year old, I'm coming to understand the importance of using caution and discretion.

As someone from the ethnic background Aryan: The word “Aryan” is Sanskrit for honorable/noble... it means Indo-European. I'm Irish/English.

As someone with Nordic beliefs: Any religion that goes against the laws of nature are FALSE.

As humans, it's in our nature to evolve and change.

As dropouts: The majority of us still hold fast to our values and morals.

-D.F.

As an incarcerated person I want people to know that I'm not a violent or bad person. I'm a father to three kids who I truly care about and love with all my heart.

As a man, I have morals and values

As a writer, I could write about anything, but I prefer not to at this moment.

As a 29 year old: BE

-M.S.

As an incarcerated person: It doesn't mean I'm a bad person. I think everyone makes mistakes in their lives.

R.B.

As an incarcerated person: I am a man of my word. I'm a hard worker and a father of an 8 year old daughter. I'm not a bad person, I just have some bad habits.

As a writer: I'm able to escape from the world and express myself and my true feelings.

S.L.

G/H- Unit

An an incarcerated person, I became a woman in recovery. As everyone around me that legally fuck me, doubts everything I say and my motives due to my past and all the labels people place on drug addicts in jail. I guess I'm the only person who truly believes and knows where I am in my life.

-A.

As a writer, pen & paper's all I got, to get out of my head and release my thoughts. Growin up fast I smoked a lot of pot. All from experiences I've been taught. Say everything is for a reason, been thru hell in every season, believe in Fate, miracles and no regrets, learn from the past and don't forget, all my troubles , friends & hardships shit engraved in my memory will never tarnish. Missin my Miah, the cigarettes and more. Can't wait, in a few years, I'll be out these doors, continuin' my life, never lookin' back, back to my skate & a foreseen relapse.

-S.G.

As an incarcerated person I am a non-entity. I am powerless over myself, and not in control of my life. I am imprisoned in spirit and thought. I am careful not to dream. My dreams are lost to me now. Where they have gone to, I cannot say. I know that new ones are born of the seed of hope. I carefully hide the seeds of new dreams in the far corners of my mind, lest they spill out onto the floor, and are lost under a judge's boot. If I am quiet enough, I may have a spark of life left to carry out of here when I go.

-K.C.

The following a from a prompt in which we wrote a piece of micro-fiction, a story in a few words:
H-Unit

 Beautiful grey eyes that hide no lies. I was wrong.

-A.B.

And strike three, the Giants win, the Giants win the Pennett.

-D.F.

Hi, bye. Bye, hi. It's all the same, we all die.

-I. F.

Created by man, inspired by nature. The swan is made out of scratch paper

-J.

G-Unit

Hard concrete cold ground, on the cardboard I slept sound.

Turn to the left then to the right. Seein' through clouds that are thick and white.

-S.G.

Mom met Jeff, mom sells her house... Wow!

Stress. No sleep. When's court?

-A.

I took my paycheck to the store. I brought a package home.

My car sits at the beach, watching the tide roll in.

The radio is playing music. Who's playing me?

-K.C.

From a prompt in which we attempted to fill two whole pages without stopping.

H-Unit

Sometimes I have a lot on my mind, especially to write. Because when I get in the zone to write, my pencil just starts flowing. But I enjoy writing in private, (my cell) less distraction. Maybe because I hold so much emotion inside. I have thoughts processing at all times, I guess you can call me a deep thinker. But as soon as I try to remember and jot down my ideas or thoughts, I've already forgotten or it doesn't come out the way it did. I'm a dreamer, my mind wanders in here. My imagination runs deep like Jerry Rice on a Monday night in candle stick. It's sharp like Shannon and rich like Gannon. Most of my thoughts are about my little girl, just wondering how she's doing. Or sometimes it's about love, something everyone craves. Or at least myself. Then there's sports, just wondering if the Warriors are going to make the playoffs this season, “I still believe...” and then there's the SF Giants, just wishing I was able to watch all their games, or even just hear them on the radio with John Miller and Dave Flemming on KNBR 680

-S.L.

I feel so alone, I know I ain't home, not even close. Don't know who is who, what face they show can be their true form waking up within it was at least somewhere I know People asking who I know thinking I'm just unknown if only they knew I can put them all in one place and think of many ways how I've been through so much more pain just cause I got away. I'm a hidden shadow to my own self, not knowing if they can tell. I don't know if I can let go of a past that hurt even til now. I know that they think I'm fake. Look at me is all I can say. My scars go deeper than just physical. So think where I come from and all that bloodshed I used to be proud of. These tats on my face. Now I hope that with my past, they will fade. Childhood lost at an early age. How I wish my life was an hourglass so I could flip it and start again. Do you want details to my life? Streets, names, dates, so you can believe what I say? I'm kind and weak to those who seek to be my friend. How I wish I was cold and cruel like back in the days... then you dudes would see that I don't play. But then again, I'm happy cause I know I'm one of the few that got away from the cruelest town in this side of Cali. Intentionally saying that I ain't true cause I do not glorify the things I used to do. If I did, I'd be a monster like the ones in cartoons. How I wish I wasn't me. Helpless man at the feet on you-know-who.. Waiting to see if they'll let me go soon. My life on the line, it ain't no joke. I jeopardized it all just to look cool. I used to think this was all I wanted to be, a g just like my family. Now I see why they left. Cause in a city where shots ringing out seems like a normal thing, you'd be lucky to live til 15, not knowing what street is the last street you'll see. I'm from a city of gun and smoke where people die just to be known.

-A.R.