Friday, December 18, 2009

Poetry by Ramon Rogers

Journey to Nowhere
By Ramon Rogers

I pace back and forth in a straight line,
Thinking of nothing, trying to burn Time.
The soles of my shoes grow thinner each day,
Black hairs on my head are turning to gray.
My sight starts to blur, my eyes are quite sore,
Pacing repeatedly across this hard floor.
A thousand miles have already been paved,
But there's no destination this side of the grave.

Lungs fill with stagnant, polluted, burnt air,
The smell of Death is everywhere.
The heart beats weak with question and fear,
Maintaining a life that is going nowhere.
A stomach twisted in a thousand knots,
Lives are discarded and usually forgot.
The blood can boil just under the skin,
When things go wrong 'cuz you never can win.

There is this spinning inside my head,
Without my freedom my life feels dead.
The darkness cloaks the brightest of days,
The chill in the bones is here to stay.
The laughter, the love, the pleasures and pain,
Everything is numb and all feelings retrained.
The hours are endless as Time rushes in,
Left in this wasteland without any friends.

My paces slow with each passing day.
My strides grow short and willpower frays.
The distance traveled is less than before,
Will God ever help to open this door?
The battles aren't over even when won,
'Cuz when least expected, another has begun.
A stoic existence, I will wish for tomorrow,
But after a while there'll be no Time to borrow.

I pace back and forth in a straight line,
Thinking of nothing, trying to burn Time...

March 2001

Ramon Rogers K67902
San Quentin State Prison
San Quentin, CA 94974