About the Poetry Blog

The poets featured on this page are currently incarcerated, and many of them are in federal prisons far from home. Your feedback is a valuable source of motivation and connection to the outside community. These messages will be passed on directly to the author. Comments may not appear immediately on the site, as our team processes them to mail to the poets.

Click on the poem title to open it up, and then post your comments, feedback, and encouragement in the space below the poem.



Inspired by Kabir

My inner love speaks. I stand still. I listen.
I take in the birds, the ants, the people, the air.
Everything connected to me by the Divine.
Is it illogical I would exist entirely orphaned.
The truth is I tuned everything out
for work, money, prestige and other deafening distractions.
I do not need to be tangled up in other things.
I can tune into, again, to what I once knew.
True peace, love, and happiness is through connection with others.
You can have this peace, love and happiness too.
All you need do
is breathe.

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Contaminated Dreams


I dream about love, peace and happiness in the same sequence as the devil capturing me, taking my soul before turning 19 years old.

Each morning I awake feeling uncomfortable, my heart being cold.

Dreams are contaminated thoughts, empirical surreal nightmares that your mind bought.

I dream about the power of real love, the kind you will never lose or give up.

Happiness is forever rewarded to those who are optimistic, having mind control over contaminated dreams.

Peace is in the sky everytime I look up over the pacific ocean. Your mind, reminiscent in motion through the blue and white clouds. I always dream about the moment of making my mom proud and smile one day.

I dream about walking out of this place; my family, I will embrace outside these prison gates, surrounded with heartfelt warm love shattering this hold the devil has on me. Recapturing my soul. I dream about love, peace and happiness in the same sequence. Something beautiful will make up for this unrealistic experience.

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I’m frustrated, I’m mad,
deep down inside I’m sad,
I messed up, I crashed,
I’m really down bad,
I see the light,
it moves further away if I accept my plight
so I struggle, I fight,
I pray that I’ll be guided and be alright.

A part of me feels like I’m dying, as I grow,
if I act like the old me I feel like I’m lying,
I want to live and have a lot to live for,
but living confined in these walls feels like trying to get in a locked door.
No break ins, just bad habits that I have to break out of,
it’s really easy but sometimes I make it tough,
soft hearted from hard,
refined from rough,

I see the road to success
but there is nowhere in here to give this new love,
people will take and keep taking,
Sometimes if I’m nice it feels like I’m faking.
Feelings of contradiction,
the old me was raw and the new me can’t show any feelings.
Sometimes I feel lost even though I’m right there, everyday fighting.
I’ve dreamed new dreams from living a nightmare.

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Life with Poetry


Your life is the story that I have been looking for,
that voice and vision in which makes me see you in me.

Day after day, year after year
dying to be free, and then you appear
so beautifully expressing the meaning
of divine unity.

Alphabets merging together
to reveal what it meant to be one with creation,
articulating a humanity with a purpose
to love without meets or bounds.

Finally feeling like I’m part of the tree,
from the roots,
branches and leaves,
yes, a breath of fresh air immaterial society.

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I have never been on this road before
Upon which I cannot advance anymore
There are no roads to the right of me
There are no roads to the left of me
Massive mountainous formation of concrete
200 feet on both sides of me
When I look behind me
There is no road behind me, “no more”
I am at a complete stop…. Boxed!
With no foreseeable options but to
Stays & wait & pray & have faith
That this is not my end
Absolutely imprisoned in
This final road I chose, not knowing
It would lead to a dead end.

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My Children


Daddy is here for you and it might not be in the flesh
I pray everyday life will offer you its best
You might can’t see me but I know you feel my presence
Love has no boundary and my love is endless
Take my comfort and use it as your shield
My children, loving is the only way my aching heart will heal
Searching for the right words to ease my hurt
I cherish the day I witness your birth.
Don’t ever think I ran away
Daddy obligated to a debt that he must pay
I hold on dearly to your first steps and very 1st words “Dad Dad”
I wish I could hug you so our souls could merge
Sorry for my absence so please don’t be mad
I carry you in my heart now that’s a father bag
Gotta make up and fill in the blanks
Just a little stumbling block got in the way

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Melissa Perez. Say her name!
Daniel Garcia. Say his name!

Come on America, how many more loved ones must we lose to the sound a gun makes?
How much more can one society take?

Do we not see that we are our own worst enemy?
How many more must die before we implement a remedy?

Guns or our loved ones,that is the question we all must face,
because we are losing our future leaders at a fast pace.

Say the names of those lost to senseless gun violence,
and pray for those who have the power to change things,
but chose the option of silence.

Let not the lives lost be in vain,
and pray constantly for America,
asking God to ease the pain.

*Rest In Power to the lost to gun violence.

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Kyla You Love Me Don’t You?


Kyla you love me don’t you?

Angela said “if they came for
You in the evening then they
Came for me in the morning”

But that was just a warning!

Florence, Assata, Betty, Winni &
Wanda taught me the 1st act
Of revolt is love when they
Wrapped their arms and
That this country is so sick
Instead of putting out the fires
They would rather break the

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P.O.M.E (Product of My Environment)


I from where what you see is what you get
most things I’ve seen I want to forget
But I’ll remember this forever!
Sunny shining and it’s still bad weather
Think it’s a dream but it’s a living nightmare
growing up in the hood made me want to get out of there
But it’s hard to get out of the trap!!
It’s a set up to end up dead or in the system
Most people are either suspects or a victim
Some took another route and beat the odds
They learned how to play their cards
Even when dealt a bad hand
At a early age I was turned into a man
Everything that I went through made me who I AM

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For over half
of my natural existence
in this world
I’ve lingered
In sullen silence
Slowly withering away
like a dandelion without water
Battling the cruelty
of solitary confinement
Which equates
to a sophisticated form
of no-touch torture
and subliminal violence
But simply because I occupy
this small confined space
in repressed silence
doesn’t mean I don’t have
anything to say
about this inhumane fashion
of psychological abuse
you continue to force
me to embrace….

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A wounded soul,
A broken heart,
A battle for mental repairment.

I compare your tone with the look in your eyes,
To your embrace which states explicitly in utter silence.
You do not have to speak for fatigue rules,
The contour of your body’s aura, for you had personified importantly in principle.

It’s still there beneath your skin?
Strength and truth!
Comfort and power!
Fire that burns your drive!
The elegance of your character,
Think of the air you breathe?


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George, Malcolm, & Che

Have been my guiding light
As my world turns.

Sitting in the same cages
They sat in before me
Reading the words they left
But connected to them through
Shared suffering pain & anger
As my soul burns.

Rather die on my feet than
Live on my knees!
But talk like that could find
You somewhere on a nice night
Swinging from trees,
With your head bent high
Shoe laces undone catching
The breeze.

Or being shot to death in your
Bed with your pregnant woman while
The enemy yells “freeze?”
But I’m asleep!
God you love me don’t you?

I wept when I read that!

But those are tears we’ll all
Get a chance to cry.
I just pray that’s not a
Death I ever get a chance to
Jesus you love me don’t you?

There’s an evolution to revolution
One that he’s in the perception of the oppression

Malcolm showed me that clarity
Comes with severity

Big emotions! Loud voices
Big impact can come from small

Martin took strength from
Gandhi & the Bible
Mandela and Sundiata spoke of
Something more tribal.

Seeing the best parts of me
Go with their death

Following the prints they left
In the sand allows me to speak
With their breath

Kyla, you love me don’t you?
To be well read, is to be
Well fed & without the lessons
Of my teachers I would
Be, well ????? DEAD

And sincere thanks to Briscoe
Bush Woods and the Washington-El’s
For arming me with these guiding
Lights every time I stepped foot in
Your cells.

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