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Iowa State Penitentiary.

chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
edited June 2008 in Poetry, Prose, Music & Art
I.

Stone mortar mix up high tall gloomy wall.
Old worn towering towers are mountain peeks of authority.
Razors are endless wires ripping.
Grayness does not need to smile for brutality.
Confined blood boils over tattooed graffiti.
Flower-beds do grow arterial coagulated shanks.
500 pound sliced muscular expression, animalistic bench press.
Racial tensions rise up.
Black/White/Latino warfare.
Nightmares are brought down to hold them, to house them,
to be them locked away slammed home.
The skeleton-key is so real it outweighs what hurts.
It aches to become away, to become the broken, and the stained.
An empire made from mistakes, cruelty, and inhumanity with babysitters.
for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

"Hear me, my chiefs!
I am tired; my heart is
sick and sad. From where
the sun stands I will fight
no more forever."
Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
Post edited by Unknown User on

Comments

  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    II.

    Mommy is daddy ok?
    When is daddy comin home?
    Hey mommy?
    Hey mommy, I’m sad.
    I hope daddy is ok.
    I know he is strong but they hurt him at work.
    Hey mommy, are you ok?
    I know you’re sad and trying to be strong..
    Hey mommy, when will daddy be home?
    We are scared mommy, we are scared.
    Daddy please come home, its been days, please come home daddy.
    Locked in and locked out with geared wheels of violence turning burning riots violently.
    Death to some.
    The good and the bad, they all fall down.
    Hey mommy?
    Hey mommy?
    Daddy, please come home.
    Hey daddy, please come home.
    Mommy’s and children’s tears are daddy’s home.
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."
    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • ClutchTheDawnClutchTheDawn Posts: 160
    I like how you've separated this; on the one hand, showing the dark reality of the inside, and on the other, the painful reality for those left outside.
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    ClutchTheDawn wrote:
    I like how you've separated this; on the one hand, showing the dark reality of the inside, and on the other, the painful reality for those left outside.


    thank you.
    my dad worked there, he started 6 months before i was born.
    i am currently working on writing all the stories i've been told
    and turning them into poetry form.
    a poetry book based on my dad's prison stories.

    good idea i think.
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."
    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • ClutchTheDawnClutchTheDawn Posts: 160
    i think it's a great idea
  • Steve DunneSteve Dunne Posts: 4,965
    amazing you can put this into this type of art chad...good stuff!
    I love to turn you on
  • 395486pj10395486pj10 Posts: 95
    These two pieces are both haunting. They conjure up such detailed, dark images. Really moving work. I can't wait to read more in the series.
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    Thank you
    Clutch, Steve, and 395486pj10.

    And #'s-pj10,

    It will be hauntingly filled with brutal-disturbing reality.
    But do not hold your breathe, it won't be posted here.
    Sure, a few may be posted here in the future.
    But for the most part they will be in a up coming book.
    And thank you for being interested.
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."
    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    breath
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."
    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    On the yard in general population were heavy weights are lifted under the seasonal summer sun of filled flowering heat and your demise.
    All surrounding visions of freedom are locked away to stay blinded away the decay.
    And you wanna fuck with me you piece of shit?
    I’ll take that knife of yours and stick it up your fucking ass!
    I invite you to bring your war unto me so I may taste your fucking fears.
    I’ll force my shadow into your veins were I’ll rip you apart.
    You called upon me for your battling bullshit.
    Now taste my blood you lil puke.
    Drown in my spit and sweat.
    I laugh at your miserable decline.
    You are a waste of space.
    I refuse to breathe the same air as you do.
    For you are the illness to be destroyed.
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."
    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
  • ClutchTheDawnClutchTheDawn Posts: 160
    chadwick wrote:
    On the yard in general population were heavy weights are lifted under the seasonal summer sun of filled flowering heat and your demise.
    All surrounding visions of freedom are locked away to stay blinded away the decay.
    And you wanna fuck with me you piece of shit?
    I’ll take that knife of yours and stick it up your fucking ass!
    I invite you to bring your war unto me so I may taste your fucking fears.
    I’ll force my shadow into your veins were I’ll rip you apart.
    You called upon me for your battling bullshit.
    Now taste my blood you lil puke.
    Drown in my spit and sweat.
    I laugh at your miserable decline.
    You are a waste of space.
    I refuse to breathe the same air as you do.
    For you are the illness to be destroyed.

    The imagery is intense. I like this one a lot.
  • chadwickchadwick Posts: 21,157
    VII.

    Hatred housed evil soul
    Caged unlike mother nature’s animals
    You breathed in the weak and the innocent
    You exhaled stolen flesh and bony holy silent screams like so many cigarettes
    You have taken lives down to there demise
    May these victimized decapitated disemboweled women and children disturb your hallow soul
    You are a sick fuck
    Stomping boot heels teeth crushed
    Revenge is a bitch spitting blood broken ribs chest cavity ruptured lung
    Forced apart ligaments twisted tendons dislocated knee socket torn
    Cell extraction
    for poetry through the ceiling. ISBN: 1 4241 8840 7

    "Hear me, my chiefs!
    I am tired; my heart is
    sick and sad. From where
    the sun stands I will fight
    no more forever."
    Chief Joseph - Nez Perce
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