Celebrate the Dead

Norah Nasser

On the outside,

They clap when we die.

They laugh and they hug,

And they celebrate the dead.

When will they learn

That we are people too?

We were brought here

To be slaughtered,

And while the rest of us

Bury our friends,

The outsiders continue

To celebrate the dead.

Antiquated Way of Justice

Jackson Gold

Swift and painful

Yet in the “new age” the brutalities are hidden

Instead of bloodshed, years wither away

All of happiness

Suddenly dies

Until there is only a soulless body,

With nothing left to live

Nothing left to give.

Odd People

Jake Fales

Odd people Locked away

For their good and all of ours

Or so we are told…

A single moment

A gun and an impulse

Two lives destroyed

Stuck in a small box

Forever and always

Till death do we part

Nothing left

But rage and fear and pain

Where do I go from here?

Four cold harsh walls

Close in around me

I can’t stay sane here

Where do I end?

Where does the wall begin?

I can’t tell anymore

Trapped

Jake Fales

Trapped behind these bars and walls, My freedom stripped away,

I pace and ponder, longing for the life I used to live each day.

The endless hours stretch before me As I wait for my release,

But even in my darkest moments I find a spark of inner peace.

For though I am confined in body, my spirit remains unbroken,

And though I may be stuck in prison, My soul remains unshackled, unspoken.

For one day, I’ll be free again To roam and run and soar,

But until then, I’ll hold my head up high And bear my prison time once more.

Waiting

Jake Fales

Waiting waiting waiting breakfast is shoved through the slot in my door, waiting waiting waiting, dinner Pacing pacing pacing lights out out sleep sleep sleep lights on waiting waiting waiting five minute shower then back to my cell waiting waiting waiting meal time waiting waiting waiting when will it be over pacing pacing pacing why cant I just die sleeping sleeping sleeiping lord kill me or ill do it myself waiting waiting waiting then my cell door opens walking walking walking then in a cell outside shackled yet feeling freer than ever seeing a bird above me a flying flying flying so I run run run in place exercising feeling the blood flow through me, my heart pumping and for the first time in a long time I feel alive and they take me walking walking walking back to my cell where I’ll be waiting waiting waiting forever waiting.

Outside

Phoebe Holman

The only way you can be sure

Crackly over the phone

Water in a paper cup

Frosty cold gray metal

Homemade haircut in the bathroom

You can still be touched gently

They are still waiting for you

The sun is shining on your shoulders

The future is bright green

Poem Collection

Phoebe Holman

The day you were born

Folding in her arms

Waiting for you to grow up

Playing in the yard

All of your teachers

And all of your friends, family

Spinning you around

Sitting

Plastic chairs, old fruit

Watching your pen scratch out lines

So many sharp foot steps

Late quiet talking

Shuffling feet, friends going by

Haircuts and snack trades

Green carpet

Carried up and up

Static silence, sharp breathing

Weeping branches reach

Brushing you gently

Leaves falling into your bed

Soft petals drift down

Accountability

Caitlin Heelen

The more I learn,

The less I know.

Why was I told people deserved to be in cages?

Born with money and privileges,

Why do we decide who deserves what?

We shouldn’t and

Other people need to fix it.

The justice system, the policemen, the correctional officers, the teachers, the parents, the community.

But not me? And not you?

Learning about the problem while it grows.

And grows.

Knowing more.

And more.

If you are knowledgeable, you are held accountable.

That includes me, and now you.

A float

Caitlin Heelen

I am floating while doing

My silly little tasks,

Silly little classes,

Silly little job.

I am floating.

Empathy sucks me back down.

Hearing, reading, seeing,

The experiences those in prison face.

It’s heartbreaking. I spend the hour contemplating this torture.

Then I leave.

I float home.

Until it happens again,

And again.

I can no longer float and know

others are chained to the ground.

But what to do and how and when,

Learning is a start that will not end.

Change happens slow and

Is countered by floaters who do not care to know.

But a change in me and a change in you,

Could make things better for those

Who have never had the luxury to float.

Stereotypes

Ashley Sztam

Prison.

Stereotype is bad people. Some on death row.

Some in the hole.

Some in general.

All hurting.

Bad people.

Stereotype is always bad.

Some are robbers. Some are abusers. Some are theives.

All still hurting.

Stereotypes

Will always be there.

But

Bad people can change.

Stereotypes

What are they now?

All still hurting.

Stereotypes.

Another Number

Cooper Unkle

When did I become

Just another number?

My number was fourteen

When my childhood was fully gone

Full of wonder and a spark in my eyes

That I wouldn’t recognize any longer

After one night, my first time,

My charges totaled to four: One

Just for the gun

And for the three people at the store

I was only fifteen

When they portrayed me in court

Another superpredator,

I’d never amount to more.

A number of weeks just to see

The number of years I’d spend

Behind the walls of adult prison

My number became thirteen

So they took me away

And slapped a number on my back

Now I wait in this cell for that number to change

When I am 28

Prosecutor

Cooper Unkle

How do you protect a community

That is rotted from within?

How do you protect people

Who are expected to sin?

How much justice should be punitive

When only forgiveness brings rehabilitation?

Our law and order

Is founded upon fear

And pitting concepts of “us” versus concepts of “them”

Prosecution is storytelling

And fear-mongering

Passing down the same old tale

Using America’s most antiquated archetypes

We are desensitized by racism

And comfortable from exploitation

Our prisons illustrate our society’s greatest failures

And we put the blame on offenders

So we do not have to answer for our own crimes

The prison system is a vacuum of humanity

Distracting us from the fact

That the solution to this glowing problem is empathy, honesty, and mercy

Is our country strong enough for these?

Solitary

Cooper Unkle

Buzzing lights

Migraine white

A frosted pane keeps me blind

Metal bed

Metal door

Cinderblock walls and concrete floor

Footsteps pass

Other men shout

Anonymous hand in and out

Shadows mocking

Walls closing

I’ve never felt smaller or more lonely

No clock ticking

No faucet dripping

My heartbeat is reverberating

Nothing to say

Nothing to see

My mind starts playing tricks on me

Silence

Hailey Capuzzo

Drip

There is nothing

But the walls around me.

Drip…drip

There is no one

But the man that brings my food each day

Drip

Each day I wait

For someone to tell me I can leave,

To tell me I don’t have to live in this silence.

Drip

But with each day that passes,

I drown out more

                              And more

                                             And more

                                                            Of the noise.

Drip…drip

I no longer hear

The cell doors slamming.

I no longer hear

The others screaming from their cells.

I no longer hear

Anything…

Except

The sound of water

Dripping from a rusted pipe.