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.
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What I Wanna Be When I Grow Up Part 2
By DR
When I grow up I wanna
be strong like a cup
Hold everything up
and never gets enough
Built Ford tough and
can take all of its weights
Section off like a plate
Looking for the utensils
after grace
Just like Cookie for Santa’s
plate, Oreos & milk,
Never stays in its place
So keep a smile on your face,
cause what u wanna be,
when you grow up it’s
Never an End to this Race
What I Wanna Be When I Grow Up Part 1
By DR
When I enter pre-school I remember, all the rules
ABCs and 123 sleep time but while the teacher reads
Itsy Bitsy Spider, for me
When the rain of home the next day the sun dries me
Seems like the only cap and gown I seen
Watching my life on this widescreen
The household struggles took away my dream
Moved from the projects, what did it cost me?
A school of learning, I was a bumblebee
But the family grew, needed more room
Didn’t know welfare was everybody’s dreams
To the second stage, if my theme getting beat up became an outside thing
So I couldn’t focus on being a king
I went to neighbor to neighbor to learn different things
Looking at God’s nature, the stray things I knew since I was the only
I hear owls (sing) that I have to keep seeing things
That’s not what I wanted to be when I grew up
Sometimes I don’t think I’ll ever grow up
I still pray every day to what I wanna be when I grow up
But just in case I don’t show up
He bless (his children) to play
Be safe and grow up
(No matter what color in your cup)
Or what’s your family luck
Just say, your prayers when you get stuck and they will show up
Isolation
By AS
Trapped inside your own mind,
no human contact takes a toll in time.
Have seen many lose their mind;
but to some only the strong survive
It affects many differently,
but all mentally and physically.
It’s not a place for a human being;
either animals have time to roam.
Being caged in like endangered species is not for any
I witness this isolation;
I live in this isolation;
Taking one day at a time
while occupying your time is the mentality of many.
As one focus on life they grow in time and
with every hardship comes ease and in the
end one will free his mind
Peace
AS wrote this while in solitary confinement.
Penitentiary’s Soul
By AG
Penitentiary’s therapy
Thriller of the cage;
Or is it rage?
An emaciated man
covered in a crimson crown,
head unbowed.
Stall-fed verifier
Subsisting on other’s tears
Or is it fear?
Herculean beastly forearm.
Crisscrossed with scars;
Each slice a clash
With weakness.
IN the center of your pain.
IN the center of your fear.
Penance or punishment,
Heaven or hell
Monastery or grace?
You, alone decide.
Dogfriend
By MH
I never spoke two words to you
Yet you love me
I didn’t have to ask, however
You gave me my name
Even the place you live called home
I’m able to live just the same
I’m even cool that you always dominate our exchange
I have to feed off of you
When you’re happy, I’m ecstatic
When you’re angry, I’m mad
When you’re down, I can’t help but feel sad
I move off of you and obey your commands
One-way communication since I can’t speak
But all your words I understand
Could you ask for a better friend?
Platforms
By JK
Platforms and I’m not talking about the shoes,
I’m writing about the people speaking who don’t have a clue
Platforms that were built on my L4 and L5,
giving me chronic back pain from all the verbal jive
Let’s expand on this privilege, the subject at hand,
this platform of yours where you make your grandstand
So absorbed in your spot that you place others in the dark,
never even a thought to appreciate their written art
What is an effort if not the effort to simply write,
judgmental of creativity where comes your insight
In the sixteen-hundreds, the rave was the selling of slaves,
all carried out on high from the platforms that was raised
A jumble of words is all that we saw,
yet 3/5ths of a man was written constitutional law
Words are intentions behind inventions
so next time you’re on that platform…
before I was
and after I am…
End of the Road
By TG
3:30 in the morning
not a soul in sight.
The prisons like a ghost town
when the guards turn off the lights.
Teardrops only tattoos
there’s no crying for my sins.
I’m heading back to somewhere
I said I’ll never go again.
end of the road
end of the road
End of the road
like the end of life
you feel yourself
grow cold the
more days go by
and you say goodbye
to all you know
and so you part
end of the road.
You don’t feel like a man
when they tell you to strip down.
Open your mouth
bend over
squat, cough
and turn around.
Jumpsuit and a bedroll
and a number for your name
white, black, rich, or poor
you are treated all the same.
end of the road
end of the road
End of the road
like the end of life
you feel yourself
grow cold the
more days go by
and you say goodbye
to all you know
and so you part
end of the road.
You never really adjusted
and it shows deep in your eyes.
Doing things you’re ashamed of
just to make sure you survive.
And just like winter storms
the rain can turn to snow
and the lightning flashes
could save lives
for those at the end of the road.
Dream
By JP
As I find myself getting lost in the world of illusion,
Where perception is nothing more than constant confusion
Which catches me by surprise
Like kids opening gifts on birthdays
and the gift leaves them in utter amazement
Or like doing something and forgetting the task at hand or what you were doing
Or like arguments or hurtful words said
from points being proven
I dream sometimes…
Of broken hearts that I’ve ruined,
Of empty promises never kept,
Of walls of trust being penetrated until hatred is the only emotion left
I dream sometimes…
Of you fully forgiving me
For the mistakes that I made
and how I failed you endlessly
I dream sometimes…
Why Do I Hate Love?
By TS
Why do I hate Love?
Cause Love don’t have no heart.
Love don’t care about nobody,
and loves to rip you apart.
Love causes pain
Love causes stress
Love is just misery, confusion, and evil
at its best.
Why do I hate Love?
maybe cause Love hates me.
Love been treating me wrong and unkind
Since I was lil babe.
I was born in the 90s
To a mother who always say she Loves me
but her Love was neva true.
To a father I’ve neva seen before
not even once in a blue.
Why do I hate Love?
Cause Love made me look like a fool.
Use and abuse me like some worthless tool.
Love is cruel
and you’ll be the fool if you think it’s nice.
Every time I showed Love
I paid a tremendous price.
Love ain’t s***.
I’m my own witness.
Love did me wrong too many times
and will neva get my forgiveness.
Why do I hate Love?
‘Cause everybody I thought love me
turnt they back on me
especially when they put them
handcuffs and shackles on me.
Nobody will neva love me for me
they will just love me for what I got
and when all that’s gone
then they’ll just love me not.
Why do I hate Love?
Cause Love brought me to tears.
Love makes me show weak emotions
Like desperation and fear.
Love made me feel ways I’ve neva felt.
So I made a promise I’ll neva Love s***
not even myself.
If you choose to Love Love, search for Love, Chase Love
I promise I will neva judge.
But, when Love does you wrong
and it will!!!!
You can always read Why I Hate Love.
But before I go
Let me tell you why I hate Love the most
Cause it turnt me into something I wish I wasn’t
and that’s a young black man with no hope…..
Word Journey
By MH
If emotions take over from its want to speak their piece,
the body will follow and let the message come out
now here, lip service can die or travel by word of mouth
the answer lies between words coasting thru ears
and comprehension making the sounds worthwhile
seems like talk is either gossip or gospel
some truth maybe falsehood intertwined in the grapevine
I’m wondering who said it best
politicians, preachers, pimps, professional talkers of the same kind
or is the listener more important digesting the verbal fruit into their minds
all depends on what the conveyer has to say
my thoughts end with my pen seeking to communicate
thanks to whose eyes reading this page
A Young Black Prince Dream
By HC
Young black prince
living in a world
that don’t recognize your presence,
your existence feeling
the wrath of your resistance,
seeing the hate in your eyes
from morning and evening news lies.
Young black prince,
the odds are against you
but you have to hold strong
like a clenched black fist,
mighty enough to turn
your past into existence
from a prince to a king!
A young black prince dream!