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Thursday, March 19, 2009

Poetry by Anthony Pearce

Truth Serum
By Anthony Pearce

I wanna be the rapper in the Forbes list articles
Trippin on no hata they just miniscule, particles
Lyrics like bullets got an infinite arsenal
Fadin these rappers, I aint talkin bout barbarol
Barbara Walters, Baby girl I need an interview
Tell you bout the things that I’ve done “n” I’m finna do
Chain down this dream finish line I’ll be sprintin through
Love my Dianas, Kadilynns and Kimisus
Call that a sister act
They’ve been down since Similac
Always had my back since the days we would piggyback
And that on my mama’s grave
I will never tolerate a nigga dissin them with his life he will compensate
Because I’ve been the black sheep
Wish there was a vaccine 
Wish they’d yell cut and tell me it’s a bad dream
I’m trippin but no bad knee
Wish I could go back and change everything but that seems 
So hypocritical 
Know what I did or didn’t do
Time is of the essence so let me take a minute to 
Tell you I apologize when I look in the mirror 
Cuz letting you down is my ultimate biggest fear
Truth serum


Marvel
By Anthony Pearce

I’m a marvel, I’ll sweep you off your feet like the Hulk
Like Spiderman I sense you when you’re close
I’ll be your Captain America, you can be my flag
I’ll be your Black Panther, you can be my Jag
It’s love at first sight, just call me Hawkeye
Our love’s on Stan Lee, but it will not die
Our love will always heal like wolverine
And will become stronger than even Thing
I was like Iceman, but you turned my flame on
I’ll be your Thor I’ll throw my cape on
I’m like Cyclops; I only got eyes for you
Be my Jean Grey, Baby, and I’ll die for you
I stay with that tree like Rocky Raccoon
Anybody hurt you, I’ll turn into Dr. Doom
I stay suited up like Iron Man
You’re a super model and I’m a fan
With you I’m so fly I feel like Star Lord
So Baby, please, come be my Captain Marvel


Lonely
By Anthony Pearce

Sittin in this cell, not receiving any mail I try to be indifferent 
and tell myself “oh well”
But to be totally honest I get lonely as hell
No celly to talk to, should I talk to my cell?
Staring at the pictures that I got on the wall
Actresses and modelz who can’t speak at all
Every day a disappointment when they do mail call
A few subscriptions gave permission but my heart’s still raw
I wish I had a friend to write about my day
Someone who’ll let me know why I’m feeling this way
Send happy faces and hearts telling me it’s okay
I feel empty like a dictionary with no letters
I wish I could get an A. I hope you feel better
Imagine havin 4 sisters and none of them write
But still loving them with all of your might
It’s like being on an island, Caymen or Coney
All by myself my only friend is Mr. Lonely

My May Poem
By Anthony Pearce

Love is just a fantasy,
A fantasy a dream,
A dream is your imagination,
So which is the real thing?


Panoramic View
 By Anthony Pearce  
                                         
Panoramic view, but still I can’t see you
You say that you love me, I want to believe you
It’s like finding Waldo but isn’t as easy
Thoughts of you leaving tend to leave me queasy
You are the “bestest” don’t care ‘bout the “restest
Without you can’t breathe, like attacked by asbestos
Want you as my wife, so that means for life
This isn’t an act, no action camera lights
So I turn around complete panoramic
But still you’re not there, am I being dramatic
I hear you whispering like the fade of a dream
Baby where are you, please come back to me
I tried the panoramic and you weren’t there
Then I look up and my angel’s in the air


Never 
By Anthony Pearce

I ain’t never met a girl like you
Who can make me feel the way you do

Girl you know that I adore you
When you leave my mind you soar through
Girl you know I would die for you
Bae, without you I’m scared and alone
But with you I’m king of the throne
I’ll put down the guns and drugs for you Bae
But I need to know that you’re never gonna leave me
I need you close and I hope that you believe

I ain’t never met a girl like you
Who can make me feel the way you do

Never met a girl like you
Who makes me feel so brand new like you’re part of the crew
Bae, girl without you I’m blue
Sick like I go the flu, want no other girl but you
Bae without you what would I do?
Boo I don’t got a clue
Shaggy no Scooby Doo
(Ooo ooo) bae Girl without you I lose
I’ll cross the finish line with you
It’s forever me and you
So I need to know you’re never gonna leave me
I need you close and I hope that you believe

I ain’t never met a girl like you

Who can make me feel the way you do


Blue Mist 2/Dream Girl
By Anthony Pearce

It’s miraculous, the fact of it, is I wanna love you
You’re immaculate, so fabulous, put no one above you
Would be tragic if you had to get away from me because you
Are my everything, my everything, can’t get enough of you
You’re the world to me, matter fact, you are the galaxy
The type of girl I thought could  only be in my fantasy
I want you in my life, but even more baby I need your
Hugs and kisses xoxo plus caress and squeeze you
I smile at the thought of you, wish there were alot of you
So I would never be alone, baby all I want is you
But once again, I wake up and the essence of you fades

Through the blue mist once again my dream girl has gotten away


Kisses
By Anthony Pearce

Kisses are the things that make us better when we're hurt
Kisses are the things that we evision when we flirt
Kisses what I give you after I've been such a jerk
Kisses make you feel special and kisses show your worth
Kiss you a million times and still I’d want to kiss you more
I wanna kiss ya when I miss ya boo what else are kisses for?
Kiss you a  on the forehead of a child make them giggle
Kisses from a grandma tend to leave a little spittle
Kisses make our blood flow make us blush when unexpected
Kisses are my favorite way of showing you affection
Kiss me when you want baby no need to ask permission
Because I love you, but even more baby I love your kisses 


Blue Mist
By Anthony Pearce

Waiting on loves first true kiss, picking petals off a flower, 
she loves me, she loves me not, will she love me in an hour, 
Praying for love, have I prayed wrong? Because it’s starting to sound like the same old song
feels as if I’m losing my sanity,  
Love seems more and more like a fantasy,
Is love just a word or reality?
Everyday it seems more of a fallacy,
Looking for my Aeriell, Bell or Jazmine,
Even a Fiona to free from the Dragon,
I’m your Prince Charming with the first kiss,
Love’s the only thing on my Christmas list, 
Only see you in my peripheral,
Sometimes it feels like you are right there.
Until I wake up to this nightmare,
Waking up in this cell feeling clueless, staring out my window through the “Blue Mist.”


Anthony Pearce BI0033
California Correctional Institution
P.O. Box 1905 C-5-127L
Tehachapi, CA 93581
I am a 31 year young looking for friendship, I love rapping/writing music and poetry. I am a fun -loving, skateboarding, optimistic person. I would love to have someone to share my art with that has the same interests that I have.  Write me if you would like to get to know more about me. I’m an open book, if you’d like to see how the story begins. Hmm : )  My Facebook page is here.


Poetry by Victor Apodaca

Untitled
By Victor Apodaca

Why me father “o” why me
Why have you given me a heart to be broken
To break me and mold me into something I do not want to be
I like so much to not care and be so cold since you
Broke me, many many years ago …

I was so young and tender and I helped bring bone of my bone
Into the light of day.
You took her so fast that I had “no” way to understand
Here, she was so beautiful to me and such a joy
She always looked like an angel, her smile brightens my
Ever lovely day
One whole life before that went away when her
Sunshine shown all about me

Why “O” why did you have to take her from me
I turned out so evil because I lost her when I only had
Her so short alive that it made me bitter and hate you
Filled me with such darkness all the rest of my days

Made my heart so hard no one could love me
In turn could never love again
Now you want me to do your will why father
Why “O’ why do you ask me to love others when for
So long you let me stand alone

Did it strengthen me and temper me for your mission
That you put in my way
Why “O’ why father must I love areas where “no”
One loves me

Why “O” why father do you ask this of me?
Can’t you let me hate that's more simple then
What you ask of me
Why “O” why fater do you now ask this
OF ME …

“In loving memory  of my daughter”
God rest her soul …


Love You 
By Victor Apodaca

What is love?
I knew it at once upon a time
It’s so far away now I’m lost in forever

What will become of someone like me?
My peace will come one day
Is there a forever for me someday
Or is it a dream a grain of sand or a beach
Lost in forever

What to believe love someone says to me
And the next is go away I can’t stand you
What is this word that they use to quiet you
And then they lie and hurt you go away they say

To you; I don’t love you; they use it in so many ways
Why should I believe; is I love you when in the end
It destroys you!!!

And what was said is really 2 lie
No such thing as I love you
It’s okay 2 myxx to help do their work
And take and take all that worth!!!


My Sick Little Game
By Victor Apodaca

What is dark but absent of light
So what is light but the love of one God
Why does one God love
Who is this one God
This one God of absolute love
Can we prove this one God is real
Pain is real
Death is real
Is this one God real
Why is there pain and suffering, is this one God truly real
Who am I to this one God
Why do I suffer pain if he loves me
Why does he love me this way
I’m in pure hell everyday
How can he say he loves me and leaves me this way
Who are you really
What is your true name
If you are really real why is there so much pain and suffering
I believe but in what and who
I have the papers that say what I believe but do I really believe
I ask you my patronage do you believe like I believe
Are you too evil and curse
Don’t you wonder why
Who am I or who are you in this game
Ask yourself what is his true name
I leave you with that all the same


 So Silly
By Victor Apodaca

So what is history to someone like you
So what philosophy do you follow
So why do you read this work, or is work 2b all
So ponder that question or any that come to mind
As you stare at the white page
So why do you read the dead works of dead poets
Can you answer in a lyric or stanza that makes you feel
So why poetry at all
It’s sometimes a mess of nonsense words, sometimes of lost loves and hurts….
So why do you want to feel someone else’s pains
The blood drops of sweat that comes from reliving 2 lie that life is somehow worth living
Silly thing
So the planet is dying, the waters are polluted
The forest is going extinct where will you come from
So silly
All things are going yet you’re here with me putting pencil to page
You’re so silly
What to waste of a day you can never get back
But you still reading what some insane mad man has to say…why
I pose that to you
So silly willy does this madness bring you 2 smile
That’s what I wanted for you
So silly……you

Untitled
By Victor Apodaca

Poems, the ideal moment, what to do, what to do.
If I was lost and had a compass, I could somehow find my way…
But, into this world, I’ve always been lost; you must be lost to become a slave to the truth. It’s hard for –
People to face the truth…
Only when it affects them do they understand,
– a way to follow…
“What is truth?” was asked of someone. I now have become a slave to a Pima is what I am, but so far away from what it is…
But it’s an awakening to a newness of mind, soul, spirit.
I still cannot do what I must do…
I myself can only show Eros and only to the opposite sex…
But master gave me a shot of agape and oh how I need you…
Became my motto and healing your wounded soul.
Began 96 slashes of the whip, surged and beaten, the holy garments of the universe were mauled and the crimson red of life covered evil of our universe…
You see, if you unlock the truth of this, it goes as this,
We are a universe and we impact others.
Universe show of great souls and we all are instruments.
EYE-ASHER-EYEH or YOD-HEY-VAY-HEY
This is the truth of the moral minister, mythology the obsession of Eros, or the truth for today’s flesh and blood because of agape, this is my and your own quest… TRUTH!!!


One Day
By Victor Apodaca

At my beginning, I do not know my life is not much different from all of you…

I was born with father and mother. One I thought hated the life he gave me that day I came into this world! The other loved in a way that I came to know! I myself cannot in a way you could understand!

Love to me is a darkness I acre not to understand…
Everyone who ever said they loved me has cut me to the bone! My own blood has betrayed me…

I gave them my everything, heart and my soul, they won’t spend 48 cents to just say hello! I try to understand why something I made does not love me so. It’s hard for others to comprehend why God made me the way I am…

I do not apologize for who or what I’ve become! It’s society that put the thoughts and actions I have done…

Some say I’m evil, full of darkness, and spiritless…

Why blame others for their creation you should ask? Because I came from a life that very few have survived…

I came from that that very few have survived… I came from war, drugs and humanity-lies…

You yourself have given me life, the hate, the sadness, that is felt beyond your comprehension, but one day I will get out!!!


El Juego de la Vida
By Victor Apodaca

Payback for all that crazy shit, I look deep into my box.
There’s nothing there for a vato loco.
There’s no love coming in the form of an envelope,
no money order for a crazy dude like you.

No friends like when you held the big sack,
no family saying they love you when you’re passing them a bill.

Where’s the love for you, gangsters out there in the freeworld,
what’s up homeboys, where are you now?

Came in, you got your number – 59195 – the same frontwards and backwards.

This is payback for all that gangster shit.

The vida loca, homeboy, your daddy wanted to be a gangster.



Rendezvous  
By Victor Apodaca

Am I my mother's hopes; I ask this as I look deep
Into my dark soul. I’m here for what I ask the big man above.
I live in a concrete box, no joy, no love, no joke,
just one more upon another ….
Who are you I can tell you, but does what I say matter to someone like you.
I earned my pain through blood and tears you know nothing about. I say to you I have a rendezvous but with who? …
My life on the line covered by thick grey walls 15 feet high
with sharpened double edged knives …
There’s a man in the tower with cross hairs when I go outside.
It’s hell on earth as I do not look for today …
As death is always waiting for me to slip and then he can end my days …
I’ve watched year after is a cold grey cell for that
Rendezvou in hell. It’s not easy to bet on someone like me.
They hate what the fear so to hell for my future/ As it’s not so bright and shining. Blue cloud with a silver lining as some suspect not for an X-con such as I …
It would of been nicer to die in that war I survived two bronze
Stars and colored ribbons all in a row, they pinned to my chest
Good job Soldier, I was impressed, but  there was a rendezvous in
My future called P.T.S.D. half out of my mind when I committed my crime.
Where were the honors for an old broken mind, did those parades
And ribbons help in the end from a grateful nation for what you had done,
But know your broken and shamed so will just lock you away.
What happened with a grateful nation when they called
I came …
Now there’s n o one for me except the cold dark grey
Without even a view to pass all these thousands of days.
The silver grows with each passing day …
I see the end of the tunnel but it’s so far away. My eyes
Are dimmer with each tick of that damn clock. There’s no-one, no
Where, when or why. I do reach for the end thanks from a
Grateful nation …
I can still hear someone say …


The American Dream
By Victor Apodaca


America  the home of the free and the brave …
You shed your grace on me.
The words of a white man’s America may be not for me …

I once believed this crazy sentence I myself wanted to give
My life for this so-called dream!!!
But it wasn’t meant for someone like me. I fought for this
Country, I was willing to shed my blood for
The American dream …

But I came home to a country that turned their back on me.
My own blood betrayed me for a piece of paper that
Was the white man’s dream! …

Who to blame I guess that would have to be me!

I took it to heart because I thought it would
Give me freedom, but it’s all a lie for some XXX me. No help
For a dreamer like me, a kick in the ass and your
Way! …

Thank you for your help now go away  you’re damaged
And we don’t want to help a dummy
Who call for a statement, xxxx, line, and a sinner
You’re to blind to see that the American dream
Is for the rich white man, your to blame if you really
Believed you had a chance at the
American dream!
Your skin tone makes  you a spik & beaner I’ve often been called.
Never you be fair shake I’ve bleed for nothing
Lost it all for your sake
Not even a Thank you what’s the problem when I
Came home too! …

I gave all for you and in return I got the
Bars for my American dream!! …


Stain of Hurt
By Victor Apodaca

Blacken by the stain of hurt. I wonder why I must hurt others.
I am not willing to give in. But there’s no way to win.
The stupid things people do to me makes
Me angry and want to hurt you and me …

I don’t understand what they think in this concrete jungle
You must not speak to the people in charge or
You’ll have to pay with blood …
And that’s the way this life in hell, is to be the
One whom you blame …
Except  yourself when you put yourself in a bad
Place, all the demons from this hell will make you
Hurt and that’s why I can’t understand why you place
Yourself in that place to make someone hurt you in
This awful place …

I have to do what I must to live and walk
The line straight and tall because if you’re weak
You’ll never make it out of this place ever could
Die for no good reason, it’s my way, to stay alive.
But no one cares not one soul. The blood you
Spilled darkens  your soul …
That’s my stain of hurt but one day I’ll get

Out that’s for sure …


I Look Up
By Victor Apodaca

I look up towards one blue of the sky I don’t look to what waits for me below, one day I weill have finished this mad race. I’ll be put to rest one fine day. Then one book’s in heaven will be opened nothing unturned will be hidden from my sight.

Will it be to the light I go out forever in the dark and cold. Will I meet the one’s Dr at work before4, my sweet daughte4r or the father that had left me to my hell all these days...both have fallen into forever sleep both above I hope to meet.

But I myself don’t believe because my trials have cut me deep
So I’ve forseen that which I believe, I’ve tried to keep the faith but they do not stop from keeping me down I try to forgive and yet I can not.

I have found the cuts are so deep and seared my soll that the one’s that I gave life and raised from birth have turned these heart of stone and destroyed  the one that they say they loved but so they hurt beyond what anyone could do on this earth.

Ever wish sometimes I’de died when the war I survived to come home to a worst death then Satan himself could devise diabolicar is there plan that Satan himself, would bow his head to the things that they have planned for the one they call Dad!!

Bio Bit

As I’ve said these poems mean alot to me as I am a Gulf War Veteran thagt served in desert storm and desert shield with P.T.S.D. Poetry was my way of expression and fighting those demons taht haunted me for so may years. My family abandoned me, which I don’t blame in some ways and in some ways I do. So I juined one pen-project when I was at P.N.M North Facility Maximum Security which was 13 hour lock down for around 5 years the first time, than 2006 to 2011 and then again from 2013 to 2015 and that’s were a administrator for education wanted me to write as I was taking College course’s mostly in literature and I liked poetry. So that was where I started from that teachers spark I do not think my poetry is very good but it helops me and I hope it helops people in the real world show that’s there is light in all the darkness. 




What a Strange Thing
By Victor Apodaca

What a strange thing happened to me one day.
And I didn’t know what to make of it
If you could see how dead and empty are
So many soul’s like harden by hate revenge and bitterness
How would such a heartless soul shed a single tear for a monster like me.

I must write my dear mother to say
What a bright light she was in my
Sea of darkness I’m so use to a single flower
In this garden of hate, stiff and envy.

How could she ever love someone like me.
The tear feel on my arm.
Was such a great drop hyou see it fell from
My darkened eyes that only know misery.
How could this happen I asked that  question of me?

Is there something within me that wants
To get free; A single tear fell from me.
What a strange feelilng it brought when
When it rolled down my sleeve,
I couldn’t believe it at first that it came
From somone like me.

I’m a child of the system
Been locked up since I was ten years young
That was so long ago breed to hate, kill and murder
How could a single tear come from
A monster like me


The Situation
By Victor Apodaca

The situation- I’ve looked from the inside out,
And myst say.
How is that - one may say
It’s simple I came to my page sixteen, pages back.
What I remember than was prison was kind of fun …

How is that - one may say.
Because the clickstars were on the line back then.
Don’t get me wrong, it was easy to be draped in a cord white sheet
With filthy crimson holes.

Then there was a terrible day when they locked us all away.
Six pagesforward I was put into the booby hatch
“Where life is wonderful every day,” Then came the day
To stand in front of the black robe with the wooden hammer.
Fifteen plus nine to run along-side and this and
Half to run after one last day of those are done.
Having only killed a dog shame shame on you …

How is that - one may say, it’s not funny to me but
Maybe to you. That’s what American Justice does to
Someone who’s not white, some one like you.
So they locked up me away in the hell of grey it’s only
24 hours each and every day. For six more page’s I spent deep in
The south, no one can say even hello or good day …

Then California broke that hard 24 hour a-day and I was
Loged to a system that was different from when I’d gotten locked-up in lock up.
Now these inmates children I should say.

As I have grey hairy head, try to be someone in this
Diaper plade, places that is sure, hell for someone lie me,
The old guard is not so liked by the pieces
Of crap that call themselves Convicts but the go and tell …

How is that - one may say - well my last cellie was told I heard
Voices and was very old, make a name for yourself it’s all a game

So one moring not long ago he treated the old
Hairy head as I went to the cell door he must of thought
What a pussy he’s running away but to his dismay
He only lo0cked it so no-one could et away.
And to his dispair he got holes poked into his face
And chest and came so close to his very death …

Here’s a cliche, I leave it with you, “don’t judge a book by it’s cover,”
He learned a lesson thasgt convicts don’t play
We don’t grab ass or walk away …

THE END! :)


Bio Bit

The words in here mean things to us convicts the word clichsters is a prison gang not a street gang they were the most dangerous convicts in the prison system they had to earn their bones, which means to kill somone in the prison. A “gang member,” a “rat” or “ rapist” or “child molesters.” Pages mean years of a calendars each page is a year in time. Now the terrible day is when they went to one level system and also around the country they locked up prison gang members or convicts they felt were dangerous or notorious. I fell into that category in 2008 and in California the created the S.h.u. That housed the worse of the worst that was 3 hour lockdown in Solitary Confinement I spent 5 years then another two more years later. Now the inmates that came to prison now are kids, so it’s hard time when they’re around because they want to be somone in prison like myself. I am not notorious for being dangerous, so if they could take me out they would be one big man on campus …


Prison Blues
By Victor Apodaca

Who am I? That’s a question I pose to you. Whoare you, do you believe you, could never put on the prison blues. How many people have heard say that and opps! There they are next to you …
Fathers, brothers, sisters, cousins, it does not matter to them who you were before. When you care and you very well may.
I’ll bid you adieu. Welcome to the devils playground, we all kind of sick things you can do …
You poke yourself just to forget for a while changing the hell you’re in.
Remember no plans to come but one worlds is about the haves and the haves not which one are you …
Think long and hard before you do your dirty deeds.
The time you spend here in a 9’ by 12’ cell that awaits someone like you. No sunshine on your face, no birds singing in the cherry tree next to your window. No candy or soups for a dope like you. As a family has forgotten about you. No love with a stamp address to you know who. Think before you do. This time here hates you, you may get stab, beaten or shot by one man with a badge or one in prison blues…
Life here is no joke, you loive second by second and if you’re weak. In this place you’re someone’s punk or bitch pimped off for a cigarette. Holding on to somones belt loop, wearing red M&M’s for lipstick.
You have fight for your right to be left alone. Sometimes you win, and others you lose. But heart counts here win or lose, there’s no help for you, no skirt to hide behind and play peak-a-boo…
Your momma can’t help you there’s no tears in here for you …


Bio Bit


I had some read this poem in a college course for internship and she wrote me back saying she’d had a family member that went to prison and the entire family turned their back due to him being in the prison system. She explained this poem touched her, that she cried everytime she read it and now she has contacted her long lost family member. That truly gtouched me as I saw some good come of my own pain. I just had to stab an inmate that got my son a bullet to the back of his head and then sixty years in the Texas prison system and last yar in 2018 I had to do the same thing not that I wanted to but in prison you do not have choices. Sometimes it’s either them or hyou. So believe me it’s no fun in prison. I should of finished my 15 years in April of 2019 but since the stabing I lost all my good time so I am on 13 years and 3 months so I have to do another 2 ½ oto 3 years for something I had no control over. So if you out there think your family members deserve this place you’re wrong, we’re not animals, when we came to prison, but we are made animals by the very  justice system you created. I’ve spent 18 years in prison, I’ve earned my college and seminary degree seared Doctoral degree, Theology seared Masters of Chriswtian counceling, seared Bachelors degree in theology and sective sgular degree in liberal Arts and I am a certified and llicensed ordained minister and XXX Associate Evangelist even with all this I am a Soldier a trained Killer and tested. Luckily I am not so sick from Gulf war illness/syndrome thagt I can’t defend myself. So when you lay hyour head in hyour soft safe peaceful home, say a little prayer for your family member who figthts daily to stay alive. Remember he sleeps on a large concrete slab or that hell he calls home….


Whom Do You Love?
By Victor Apodaca

Whom do you love, I ask myself everyday 
I ask Yeshua the Son and my Father each and every day
 whom do you love
Can you really say
Do you have a brother or mother or father (what happened to sister, son, and daughter, cousin, aunt and uncle) in prison or in jail do you write to say “Hi”
Or just go to hell….
If I had a finger to count for everyone who is there for me
I’d have a palm (this is powerful all by itself)
Whom do you love
I ask once again
Do you remember
The lost loved ones rotting in a concrete pen
It is someone who gave you life maybe
 someone that shared some type of joy
now they’re here, who the hell cares
they’re fed and have a roof over their head
but they don’t hear the cries
when someone takes your manhood for trade
or is forced as they’re forced
you can hear them scream in pain
whimpering for weeks on end
sometimes one or three or more at a time
sometimes a steel metal rod pushed deep in your chest
you’re spitting up blood as your lost life passes 
in front of a mother or child from your past
as you take your last breath
Where are you Jesus, now that I’m alone…
Whom do you love
I ask you once again
It’s not easy to send an S.O.S from the pen
It would fall on deaf ears once again
Whom do you love
I’ll ask you only one more time
You should write or accept that call 
Because one day it may be too late
From that one whom you did love
May not ever make it out of the pen


American Monster (The Dance?)
By Victor Apodaca

Do you know what it is to have darkness at your door
Why you may ask 
This for someone like me it’s a daily dance
You say I do not want to be that person-
The American monster
But the dark shadow of evil is there when you wake
Daily he stands at your gate
You do not want to dance with the Faces of Death
But you’re out of luck
You did what you did for whatever reason you have in your heart
You used that or this as an excuse
So you can sleep at night, but you know….
Another day as you awake
Cold grey keys rattle like the warning of a snake
They come for you
Will they beat you or shoot you because you must defend yourself
You say to death forget you
You’re not getting me today
You can’t slip the cold grey and Pittsburgh steel
Barb wire has no forgiveness for someone like you….
Someone’s always ready to get you know who
All it takes is that one mistake and they’ll forget you
Who the hell cares if you live another day
No one that’s who
Remember that they all left you
You’re nowhere on their “to do” list…
Damn you stab him before he stabs you
It’s not a pretty world
On the inside sleep is a thing of the past
It gives someone an edge to get you 
Any noise awakens you
You listen as the clinking clatter of the brass keys rattle as they pass you
But death is there ready to forget you
Why, only He knows your fate is not written in stone
Not yet you must know that your epitaph is waiting for you
Today, tomorrow, or the next year, the man with no fate awaits you
The dance is not over for you until someone forgets you!


The Vida Loca
By Victor Apodaca

Mi Vida Loca, what you say about the old school days
It’s not a matter of days locked up in a grey cool prison cell
You have time to look back to your old ways…..

Mi Vida Loca, brings back all the girls I miss to this very day
What did happen to them as I remember my old ways
I had so many that I do not remember their names….

Mi Vida Loca, when I went to reform school and not a one stayed past a few months
And then the letters dried up
I daydream about my old ways…..
Mi Vida Loca, now I’m grown and did learn a thing it seems
Got married out of duty and now where are those children
I gave everything up to keep them safe
One or ten they don’t remember my good old days….
Mi Vida Loca, where’s a soup, is there homeboys that look out
Have to say no way you beat up one rat, two rats, and child matters
Where’s the homeboys when your locked down for that shit
Is there a bag of coffee in your box or a letter with love
Where’s your homeboys
See what happens with old ways…..

Mi Vida Loca, do you let go of your pride to wash boxers on the side
Or do they call you a snitch
Because you’re not like your good old days….

Mi Vida Loca, what happened to the mother’s love
They say the money is on its way but that ain’t what happened 
Now no phone time you’re so loved that you can’t even get them to pick up
A free two minute call, what about the good old days…..

Mi Vida Loca, what does that mean to an O.G.
Does he have the right to say you’re a snitch
Even though he’s not put in any work himself
Because you don’t shot or toke up
To change the channel with his dope
 what  about your good old days….

Mi Vida Loca, do you see this will be your fate
Take it from a veteran, sixteen years in this too will be your good old days……


A Shattered Mirror
By Victor Apodaca

Life is like looking 
Through a shattered mirror
At all the shards that are my life
I still don’t know why YAHWEH gave me life
But I have survived through it all
I try to let someone understand
What I am but they just laugh and say that I’m not telling the truth
That they’re just stories, but I’m not a liar
My road is only one in a sea of stories
 True life beyond belief
I am only a piece in the puzzle we call life
I am worse than some and not as bad as others
I think to myself if someone walked two steps in my boots would they be able to survive
I myself wonder how I have
It’s not that others and myself have not tried
 To put out the light that is my being
Do I call it lucky, or a blessing, or better yet a curse
Many have tried and none have succeeded 
And the world looks at me as an evil incarnate
But I’m not that
I’m a survivor good and evil
I do not try to understand the “whys” or “ifs”
All I know is one day I’ll be put to rest
Will there be someone there to wish me a happy journey
On my way to forever and a day
Will there be someone to shed a tear for this old soldier
When they drop that old story over my withering corpse
Will someone shed a tear
And even care 
What will be my end
I do not know….
Will I be at peace or forever curse
The one who made me so
I look up towards the blue of the sky
I don’t look to what waits for me below
One day I will have finished this mad race
I’ll be put to rest one fine day
Then the books in heaven will be opened
Not a thing unturned will be hidden from my sight

Will it be to the light I go or forever in the dark and cold
Will I meet those that went before
My sweet daughter or the father 
That had left me to my hell all these days
Both have fallen into forever sleep
Both above I hope to meet

But I myself don’t believe 
Because my trials have cut me deep
So I’ve forsaken that which I believe
I’ve tried to keep the faith 
But they do not stop from keeping me down
I try to forgive and yet I cannot

I have found the cuts are so deep and seared my soul
That the ones I gave life and rose from birth
Have turned this heart to stone and destroyed the one they say they loved but
So they hurt beyond what anyone could do on this earth

Even wish sometimes I’d died 
When the war I survived to come home to a worst death
Then Satan himself could devise diabolical 
Is there plan that Satan himself would bow his head
To the things that they have planned
For the one They Call Dad!!!!!


Victor Apodaca 59195
North West NM Correctional Facility
1700 Easy Old Highway 66
Grants, New Mexico 87020

My full name is Victor Andrew Apoadaca Sr., inmate # 59195 at the New Mexico Corrections Department. I was born in Los Angeles, California at the U.C.L.A. hospital. I’ve lived most of my life in Clovis, New Mexico. I joined the U.S. Army in 1989, went overseas in Desert Storm/Desert Shield. I was a decorated soldier but suffered from undiagnosed PTSD and that’s kind of why I am in prison now. I have started my eighteen years in prison for the most part in 24/7 lockdown at the Penitentiary in New Mexico in Santa Fe. I educated myself from 2006 to present.  I hold three degrees and am working on a fourth. I am due to be released in the next 11 months. I started writing poetry to help with my PTSD and it works. My poetry is what they call (Duende) in Wikipedia. My poems emanate soul and raw emotion from tru life, none are fiction. I follow the poet Federico Garcia Lorca. He was a Spanish poet (1898-1936). Now my mission is this! I’ve had a lot of time to reflect on my own life since coming to prison. I have completely changed my life and I have done so through walking with Yesuhas. Since becoming saved, I have seen the errors of my ways, my past misdeeds and mistakes. I have spent my time studying the word. The purpose of this biography is to bring a worthy need to your attention. I have decided in my heart to serve in a ministerial capacity but in order to do this I need the appropriate tools and contacts. I have the know-how but I’m praying for someone to have it in their heart to help me. I have no one really in my life to love, care, or just have a friendship with. It would be a giant inspiration to know that someone cares and wants to help someone like myself.  I want so badly to be an ambassador for Christ to my fellow men and women. So anyone that wants to reach out, I would gladly take that as hope upon my release that forgiveness is possible. I was an unloving, uncaring, self-centered brute of a man. I’ve changed and have faith and hope in a future that is waiting out there….

Wednesday, March 11, 2009

Poetry by Peter Louissaint

Lost Soul
By Peter Louissaint

A young black boy falls victim
To the system
At 11 years old
They say counselling will change his mind frame, but yet his heart is cold
It’s not because of the fact this his mother died when he was 9
Or that by the age of 14 he indulged himself in a life of crime
It’s not because of those things
Or because of the fact that he hates to lose, but loves to win
It’s because his soul is lost
It left his body the day he was born, so now he must pay the cost
His heart is cold
But will it get warmer as he gets old?
Yes? No? Maybe so? 
Why don’t you see him in about 20 years or so
And then you’ll see how his life turned out
Is he still committing crimes? Or did he go that positive route? 
Did his soul come back? Or is it still floating in nether-nether land? 
Cuz that’s the most essential part in being a man!
Copyright © 2002 Peter Louissaint


Inner Peace
By Peter Louissaint

There is a war going on within me that’s tearing me apart
And deep within my soul is where it has left its mark
It’s a clash of Good and Evil and my conscience is the battlefield
War wounds on my mind, body, and soul
So now I know
This battle’s real
I find myself, at times, uncertain which side I’m ridin’ on
Which, in fact, is why my heart is torn
Not a day goes by that I not hope for a cease fire
Little voices in my head telling me
That, “That can never be!”
But I will never listen to them liars
Before I let my self-conscience become another casualty of war
Victory! And Triumph! Are the only things I’m striving for
So now I look to GOD and seek refuge
Cuz to all these demons, I’ll be damned if I lose
And even with a moral center that’s gone AWOL
I must find the courage and motivation within myself to stand tall
And keep moving on
Cuz although I keep doing wrong
With all intentions to strive
To do right
This war is still going on
Now battles may be won, but who will win this war? 
Who knows
What the future holds?
Cuz only time will tell
Whether I will succeed or fail
Nevertheless, this I know for sure
My body is like a prisoner yearning to be released
Cuz once that’s complete
Only then will I find my inner peace. 


Survivor’s Creed
By Peter Louissaint

I am a Survivor! 
Now and forever!
I am built to strive, built to struggle, to persevere and to overcome 
ALL obstacles which has been set before me
I will triumph over all adversity
With wholehearted devotion I shall succeed!
Dedicated! Until I achieve my due victory
Through my trials and tribulations
With pure determination
I will prevail! 
For I am a survivor! I refuse to fail!
My attitude towards life remains optimistic
No matter how many times I’m faced with a new hardship
If I slip and fall, I get back up and try again
I must never give up until I reach my goal, which is to win!
No matter how high the odds are stacked against me
I find within my soul what it takes to break free
So as I journey through a life which seems to be designed for me to fail
My dignity! And my soul! I will never sell!
Cuz even through it all still I must rise
For I am a survivor, I WILL SURVIVE! 


Peter Louissaint 1432632
Red Onion State Prison
P.O. Box 970
10800 H. Jack Rose Highway
Pound, VA 24279
Institutional Email Available: JPay (www.jpay.com) Download the app! All you need is my name and ID number: Peter Louissaint #1432632

My name is Peter Louissaint. I am 34 years young. I was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York by first generation Creole/West Indian (Haitian) immigrants. After my mother passed away from complications of diabetes, when I was 9 years old, I spent the majority of my adolescent years in and out of trouble, because I found it hard to cope with her death. After overcoming the many perils and hardships of my youth, I decided to move to Virginia in 2007 when I was 22 with all hopes and intentions of starting my life anew. However, unfortunately, I had lost everyone who was dear to me early on in my life, thus having to fend for myself with no support system. I was misled by the lures of the streets. Which inevitably led me to make a very costly mistake, which I truly regret to this day. And consequently, I became another unfortunate statistic. 

Upon entering this bias and unjust judicial system of the Commonwealth of Virginia, I was subsequently railroaded. I am currently working on my post-conviction relief and Lord willing, I hope to be granted some form of clemency soon, so that I can return to society and make something constructive of my life. For all hope is not lost. I just have to remain optimistic and positive and be patient and stay focussed and keep hope alive! 

Sunday, March 8, 2009

Poetry by Bonnie Teafatiller

Don’t Fall
By Bonnie Teafatiller

Sometimes I question reality, like why
Does there have to be lessons on 
Brutality
And do bright minds and adolescents have to be killed
For their nationality
A lifetime of oppression and being black
Is still a technicality
A slight twitch or a lean back, left dead
For lack of rationality
There’s a white line in place of
Facts and actuality
In compliance, respects intact
To serve and protect its all an act. 
Cop saw a gun it was night
Flatline
Their alliance is tight
No need to indict, that crime
“His skin wasn’t white” he was a bad guy they lie
And they strike
 Giving black eyes, all the time they’re right
When it’s a black guy
One of theirs die it’s such a sad time
They cry and they cry
 Give hugs to his wife
And cover their badge with a black line
Rodney King, Tamar Rice they didn’t apologize 
Or bat an eye
To bleed and to fight for justice and rights
For black to be a crime, a slave of past times
The need to survive, leads to the hustling life
They flow in the drugs to see what happens to the blind
 The dope fiend, stereotype, just a disguise 
Why else would they legalize pipes and wine
A societal prototype to influence the wise
To trust in the trap and love the grind
They seed strife to fluid their ties with trapping the mind
But
Indeed we rise and devise their plan
Of demise
Take a stand this is the time


Bonnie Teafatiller 362580
Washington Corrections Center for Women
9601 Bujacich Rd. NW
Gig Harbor, WA 98332-8300


I'm Puerto Rican, Haitian, and German. 32 years young. I am currently serving a 25 year sentence for being in the wrong place with the wrong people. I have been incarcerated for 6 years. I don't believe that I will be in prison that long, due to misconduct and laws changing. I love to read and write, I am currently writing a book about my life. I have lived a very hard life and and I am trying to turn people away from that lifestyle. I love music and I am very poetic. I believe in helping people and staying positive. I hope that what I have to say helps somebody somewhere.

To read more of Bonnie's writing, click here 

Saturday, March 7, 2009

Art and Poetry by Jose De Anda

Impact
By Jose De Anda (Jim-Dandy)

Minutes Before Six gave me a lift
I thought my works were simply rotting
In the confines of my lockers
But Dina gave them a life of its own
And with the letter of embracement
It was uplift to my soul
I was laced “Game is Sold Not Told”
Real talk that philosophy is old
And I want to share a little with the world
On a real level I’m battling the devil
The negativity is constantly invading
Go ahead call me a fool for giving peeps sum tools
Positivity cannot be stopped it’s understood
Payment or reward Iis seen people grow
And spark givings of their own
Pelican Bay Prison my ground zero
No longer investing in the negative
Like Good Fellas starting Robert De Niro
I rebuild values and character from ground up
Now I’m looking like a hot Cheetos
Blazing every spot
Now I’m staring at my desk where my TV gave out
Dam Bubble just laid out
I bought it way back bad investment
For now I think its betta no-stressing
They only showing distorted messages
Can’t believe everything on television….
Now in closing are you still there?
I thank my friends “MB6” for making positive impacts
This is coming full circle and I’m really grateful
These impacts and it's platform is possible thru donations
C’mon let’s make a toast
I encourage the discourage to tap into the true list
‘Of many inspirational incarcerated humans
Give little dividends to boost all this
Its collective missions of giving back is transformational
It’s something worth spreading forth
The CO’s just rack my cell door and you already know
It’s time to socialize
I got to make an impact in real time


I’m Giving Back
Buy Jose De Anda (Jim-Dandy)

I’m no longer defined by my past mistakes, that’s true empowerment
This prison # it’s my enlighten, I got a purpose that I’m unraveling
A true Jim-Dandy and its no wonder they stole my thunder
I’m always smiling and holding strong….
My experiences they brought me knowledge I’m feeling blessed
I’m given wisdom now I’m the realist
Was once successful never be a materialist
In the past invested wrong drive straight in an avalanche’
An honest blunder but I went under
Since I was thinking without thinking of itemize
My visions they blurring visions I’ve rolled the dice
New perspectives scrapping perspectives no need for customize
My heart is pumping what I say?
 I’m on the spot n will not stall
I lost my grip ended locked in the S.H.U. I zoned out
Took me a while I found a zip I’m going Up
Defy ventures gave me a platform I’m swaging Out
The volunteers seen my potential and ride with me
I’m feeling great with their support no tapping out
It’s now hustle 2.0 the new horizon I’m on the go n gonna shine
Perfection is my motivation always is creative in my expressions
I been possessed by my redemption withstood the pressure
Let’s illuminate my real comeback I’m truly blessed
Society embraces my giving back I pass the test
For sure I’m thankful for sure I’m grateful
This off the tempo and from my heart
If it wasn’t for support from the Lovely Queen
I’d be dead broke
Not speaking money nor being funny I’m talking love
With me it’s hustle hard and all legit
A real leader in solidarity with all of you creating change
I’ll encourage others but don’t want the fame
The beautiful queen with colored eyes inspired me
She is an angel she is the baddest
I tell no lie still mesmerized
In the precious moments that materialized
Her presence spoke she gave me hope\
She didn’t know I was speechless it went untold
Her words literally struck cords they touched my soul

She woke the giant I’m giving back



Fading Memories
By Jose De Anda

The memories of you and the wonderful moments we shared
Seem to me that they are vanishing,
And draining from our lives,
Like water in a bucket with holes … 
The wonderful friendship we had is vivid in my soul
Did you know traces of you are3 found thru -out-
Different moments of my life? …
You’re still here but you’re really not,
It’s obvious that the droplets left in the famous  bucket with holes,
Are memories of us that I’ve held on to …
It’s funny cause I don’t know why I’m putting everything on Front Street
The only thing I can describe this feeling with,
Is being possessed better yet I’m still bewitch by you …
Yeah, that’s definitely more like the truth,
And the intention in the collection of emotions and droplets preserved,
Held tightly with hope by my hands,
It can re-spark the friendship we had,
Because those traces of you found in my life,
Are also moments when life was hard and your presence was,
The light at the end of the tunnel … 
The helping hand thru and out with no doubts,
The bucket served its purpose,
But you forgot how our friendship really meant so much,
Now all I’m left with is drops and puddles,
Simply fading memories from a time that was … 




Lost
By Jose De Anda

I’m lost I cannot find myself .. 
I can’t find the escape out of this loneliness and misery,
I’ve tried and tried being happy,
But my emptiness can’t be replaced or filled by my own being,
For I’ve lost my soul,
My life is just harsh and painful …
I sit everyday staring at the same wall, 
No one seems to notice me,
If I tried to drown myself the water would reject me,
Spit me back out, why so much much neglect?
I’ve walked in the park and sat by the pond to feed the birds
But even then none came my way … 
At night I look for the stars, but find none,
The moon hides from my presence,
My nights are cold and gloomy …
I look in search for a sunny day,
But the sun won’t shine,
Within me my heart burns with desire,
Longing for completeness …
I try to reflect on my past to see where I crashed,
And lose myself in an avalanche ..
I can’t find the leverage to dig myself out of this hole,
I’m wishing to be awaken from this nightmare,
Should I surrender to this everlasting madness?
My strength has falter,
Without you here,
My life is this everyday sadness … 


We All One
By Jose De Anda

The beastly-Vastness of the prison system & all others of oppression
Who America’s rich created without barriers of ramifications and impact
Just sit back, don’t worry they only in their glory sucking in
Browns, blacks, poor whites & other creeds …
It’s no secret to the beasts and depths of hatred & greed,
Many heroes have risen to end hostilities & violence,
Our leaders in household's band, we all one,
Take a stand,
Our storys don’t cease to expand,
These non profits & others need our full support,
They helping youth & all ages find & re-capture their purpose
Bringing forth the unraveling of their full potential,
Let’s inspire others to encouragement,
Our dreams are real, never give up fighting,
Cat Hoke’s a hero creating defy-ventures
Inspiring millions and moving the masses,
Her mission to give back equipping us with knowledge
The beasts voltures  relentless took attacks,
Their systems shock, their circuits blew,
Yet they recovered and Cat Hoke was pushed to tumble and fall
The beasts nature is vicious, boundless, it takes no defeat,
The funny thing neither do we,
Our numbers doubled our efforts grew, they knew the trouble
OUr friend is back with a revolutionary plan
It’s called hustle 2.0, let’s put the knots and bolts,
May our vast communities band, support true cause of giving back
Our solidarity brings earthquakes,
That shake the beasts foundation & end it’s reign,
Rebuilt our communities embrace our differences,
Pouring our minds, hearts, money, souls into this reason
Positivity cannot be stopped,
We changing lives, we all one …


Jose De Anda AH5332
Pelican Bay State Prison
P.O. Box 7500 A2 130
Crescent City, CA 95532