Freedom
Demons
At times I sit inside my cell
trying to escape a personal hell,
my demons screaming in my head
begin to fester, demise and dread.
Sometimes I take flight, leaving what’s real,
thinking I’ve forgotten these things that I feel.
And all of a sudden, it all starts to come back—
the demons are laughing, my mind under attack.
Bringing myself back thinking all can be lost,
hoping for sanity and at any cost.
Looking for love in a higher dimension,
thinking of love I’ve lost only for my mind’s protection.
Stopping and wishing sometimes I was dead,
then think of my life, my kids and think no regret.
Because these things make me the man that I am,
Once again to do the best that I can.
Maybe one day I will break these chains.
Maybe one day stop putting drugs in my veins.
As we all know that time won’t ever stop,
Someday I’ll persevere, someday get to the top.
Freedom
by Paul Myers
What is freedom?
Freedom isn’t free,
it’s a price we all have to pay,
whether it’s killing people in war
or working all day.
Waking up in the morning smelling fresh air,
or rolling over in bed
to smell the scent of your lady’s hair.
No shackled feet,
no powdered eggs.
Possibly taking your kids to the fair
for rides and turkey legs.
Family gatherings and
barbeques and beer,
smiles and tears.
No more
“can you pop my door creeps”.
Freedom.
To make my daughter happy
and watch her smile,
and if I have to leave she’ll know
I’ll be back after a while.
Camping, fishing, partying all night.
watching the sun come up,
finally kids awake watching them play and fight.
Freedom.
Free from drugs,
free from fear.
Free to watch my baby grow
one more year.
Freedom.
No more supervision,
no more checking in.
Staying out as late as you want,
having parties at the Holiday Inn.
What is freedom?
Slam
Inspired by the film by the same name.
by Prosperous Domingo
Through these lyrics, poems n’ rhymes
you can see deep inside one’s mind.
Expressing feelings through each line,
drugs, jail, n’ love u jus’ gotta try.
I’d rather b blind then 2 roll over n’ die.
Getting’ locked up or shot up,
makin’ money to getting caught up,
don’t mean to but it’s only ‘cuz of how you were brought up
n’ u don’t wanna get bulldog, so u get knot up.
Don’t wanna shed tears ‘cuz they drop down not up.
It sucks that some get harder punishments 4 their case,
maximum sentences, giving no breaks.
Can’t do nothing about it, like a slap in the face
causing a lot of heartaches.
Even then u gotta make yourself at home even in this place.
I truly respect people that try to help from the outs,
taking the time to see what we’re about.
Encouraging us, makin’ each day count.
Believing in us, never in doubt.
Equally respecting us, sharing the same amount.
Slammed in every way in this dude’s life,
when the jail doors slammed taking his light.
When Ray was slammed during the fight,
the slam poetry they shared on the mic.
This Slam movie, I happen to like.
Time
by Art Herrera
I gotta lotta time to think. Lotta time to write.
Lotta time alone. Lotta time to fight…
Lotta time to wonder, what if this or that.
What if doesn’t matter ‘cuz this a where I’m at.
I got myself here, ain’t nobody else to blame.
Got my whole family saying “he ain’t gonna change”,
and so far they’re right, ‘cuz I keep coming back.
I’m tired of saying sorry, tired of feeling bad.
Tired of hurting those, those who call me dad.
Those who call me babe, those who want me back.
I should be at home knocking back at the pad,
instead I’m with men who walk around like they’re bad.
4am breakfast, 4pm dinner,
part-time Christians, part-time sinners.
Man what is this, a dream or a nightmare?
Patriot
by Nick C.
They said “you’re supporting terrorism”
with cold steel pressed to my face.
American Gestapos who gang rape
the constitution to own the human race
They claimed they knew what I had been doing
better than I even knew.
Then the evil bastards must know that
this American bleeds Red, White, and Blue.
Scare them with propaganda
and hit them with the patriot act.
While the CIA and NSA flood
our ghettos with guns, heroine, and crack.
When you took that 505,000
you stole from the mouths of your people,
continuing your Endless Crusade
of thievery, murder, destruction, and evil.
“Whose money is this?” you stupidly asked
The time I tell you is upon us at last.
Our mothers, your brother,
a sister, our friends,
people dying in prisons,
doing time for more evil men’s sins.
Soldiers who come back with diseases
doctors can’t cure,
missing limbs, or PTSD causing vivid
nightmares to occur.
They fought for their freedom, their family,
their Son,
while government agents were home
terrorizing their people with a badge and a gun.
People are starving, blind, and scared
in American streets;
that money was for our hungry children walking in
winter without shoes on their feet.
You’ve killed the American Dream
you fucking savage beast.
Starving slaves plot in the night
upon your heart they are ready to feast.
One world government puppet masters
pulling the strings;
feasting on the spirits and lives
of innocent human beings.
Iraq controls oil and Afghanistan dope,
So kill children for gass, pills
and money, while
preaching of hope.
“We believe” the sacrificial lambs
screamed on the way to the slaughter;
now they call themselves Democrats when
they deceive our sons and daughters.
It doesn’t matter what they
call themselves, it’s all the same:
evil players in a cruel, sick
and twisted Monopoly game.
It’s time to Stand Up with a
Voice, a pen and a gun.
It will take both War and peace
to overcome.
We are your bastard children
forgotten left in the dust,
beaten and stomped in the
path of power you lust.
Don’t sleep on your children who
plot in the night;
take my money, knock me down,
and I’ll always get up ready to fight.
Freedom
by Art Herrera
What makes me feel free no matter where I’m at,
some call it poetry, some call it rap!
You could lock me up and throw away the key,
give me a pen and some paper and that will always set me free.
Whether I’m down and out or higher than a kite,
it never lets me down, ‘cuz I always get it right.
There are no mistakes when it comes to my writing.
I been around the block, I know about fighting,
I know how it feels to be madly in love.
I know how good it feels to throw up the dub,
I know how it feels to be cheated on.
I know how your own hood can sometimes do you wrong.
I know how growing up rough can take it’s toll on you,
so you better have a dream and make it come true.
As for me Ima keep on doing what I do,
writing ‘bout my life and all the pain I’ve been through.
Welcome
Shattered dreams and broken hearts.
Welcome to the place where
family and friends are torn apart.
Poor decision-making is the start,
from being set a world apart.
Welcome…
to the world of the imprisoned mind.
No longer will I believe the lies,
or my thoughts be despised.
It’s time for us as prisoners
to be free and rise.
But wait, it don’t mean to pick up the pills or pipe.
I’m asking you to look at yourself,
deep inside,
Freedom
What is freedom? Freedom can mean so many things on so many levels. For instance, being free to speak what you want, being free to make certain choices, being free to listen to what type of music you like. I would have to say that the freedom of choice is what embodies the word freedom, and I find it ironic that it is my “choices” in life that have literally taken away my freedom. Now I am told when to get up, when to go to bed, when and what to eat…shit, I’m not even free to do the most meaningless things like smoke a cigarette, and if I was to get caught doing so then I would lose the last of what little freedom I have in here.
We all take freedom for granted, because when we lose it all we have is our minds and spirits to release us from these walls and feel free. Yes, freedom is just a word. But in certain ways, to me it is living.
To a free man many of the little things in life much of the time go unnoticed. In my cell I count the bricks on the wall, study the intricate details of the floor, read and reread the marks left behind from others that resided here before me. I sometimes imagine myself being far away from here. There are so many places I’d rather be. High on a mountain, perhaps wading through a small brook, cautious not to scare away the fish I eagerly wait to catch. I imagine a leisurely drive down an old country road. My children laugh as I mock the livestock as we pass them by. Their smiles keep me warm. The sun so bright; reflecting off the white sand. The sound of breaking waves; only a whisper in the shadow as I pull her safely away from the incoming tide. The water is cold on our feet. The wet sand massages our toes. Her hand tightens around my own. She looks at me. We kiss. I feel safe…
Free
The feeling of being free –
havin’ my girl right beside me.
Lovin’ every minute of her energy,
taken away from any form of misery –
creating wonderful memories.
I wish she was here by my side –
she’s the type that’s down 2 ride,
the ’09 Bonnie and Clyde.
A girl like that’s hard 2 find,
not only is she pretty, but caring n’ kind.
She takes away all my pain,
my umbrella when it rains.
Doesn’t judge me when I slang,
I’m committin’ sins n’ she’s still prayin’ –
listens to everything I’m sayin’.
We communicate and that’s our form of respect –
she’s my medicine 4 when I’m sick,
clearin’ my thoughts when it gets thick.
N’ when I’m around my homegirls she won’t trip,
cuz’ we’re the new Romeo n’ Juliette.
So I sit back in deep thought of bein’ free –
the feeling of that is ecstasy.
I can’t wait 2 have her next 2 me –
I know at this very moment she’s missin’ me.
Not only did she find a lover but a friend in me.
