In prison I’ve died and rose again. Becoming the phoenix of my own creation, the Frankenstein of my own mind, facing a new battle, a new challenge, every single day, dying over and over again, just to keep rising, like the sun in the sky, who are both blood, in my eye and what I see is what they say, as they relate to each other, each and every day.
This is poetry for the imprisoned, written by the imprisoned body of a man whose mind is free when the sun rises, so do I, when the sun sets why does it leave its blood in the sky? Challenge me, I’ll honor you, betray me and I’ll always remember who you are, just like a scar on my heart, but that’s what they mean when they say time is art.
I´d rather see blood in the sky, than the blood of the land, but I only say that ‘cuz I’ve washed all the blood off my hands. no god, no master, what a beautiful disaster that would, could and should be. Will it be something that I’ll ever live to see and will it be something better than all of the misery and poverty that I’ve already seen?
Picture a snake, shedding its skin. Picture a caterpillar, a cocoon and a butterfly, try to remember the beginning and then, try to picture the end. Picture a picture in a paragraph. Picture a paragraph that made you cry, yell or laugh. What does it feel like to feel? Does it feel like freedom?
In prison I’ve died and tried again. I’ve lied and flied again. I´d hide and decide again; that it was time to ride and then ride again and with all my might I´d fight again and because I’ve done it before I might again, as the day turns to night again and if this is a dream I’m living in, then whose fight am I fighting in? Whose dream am I dying in? Again and again? But here I am, to begin again, as the blood dries in the sky, like the tears from my eyes, again I rise, still I rise, what a pleasant surprise.
ABC – NEVADA PRISON CHAPTER
ELY STATE PRISON
MAY 29TH 2007