Book Club

By CL

Thank you all for inviting me to a vast new world
Where one is limited only by a lack of imagination
A place where countless adventures unfurl
On a voyage to uncharted destinations

Kelli’s biweekly sessions of meditation
Followed by games to relieve our stress
Keela’s unwavering dedication
Encouraging us all to do our best

So amazing how a simple chapter in a book
Can give birth to complicated meetings of the mind
It’s a blessing in disguise depending on where you look
The cherished camaraderie you inevitably find

Brought together by words unread
Bonded by stories of similar fate
Reliving these memories in my head
Of moments I truly appreciate

Dedicated to Kelli Taylor, Keela Hailes, and the entire Free Minds Book Club Family  

Untitled

By PJ

As it is opened, each turn is:
an inhalation, while I lift the pages,
laying them, to my left. It exhales.
As it reads, each word, brings:
a heart-beat. Sprouting, pushing,
it’s a life-giving blood: a story;
a tale; an enlightening; secrets, long held.

“Read.” As the reader’s eyes move,

the book:

quiet; still; says, to me,
as its heart beats.
As it breathes, life sprouts, in: the reader,
an intricate, slow, dance, bringing: inspiration. “I
live in these pages,” it exhales, as we inhale:
it’s tale: slowly, to the left. “Read, breathe.”

The book,

in it’s anonymous, anomaly; read, beneath, each
heart-beat, “This weaver’s tale…” and it reached:
drowsy, dormant, regions in my mind, that were
anomalous, sprouting, watering: emotions, inherited
versification, I couldn’t see, but felt, reading

the book.

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

Incarceration

By DJ

Could have, would have, should have been on the streets, on my feet
Looking out my cell window like damn, I’m so far from a street
Staring at the wall like this isn’t where I should be
In the visitation room just looking at my beautiful niece
When I call home just talking and thinking like that’s where I should be
When they call my name at mail call, you should see the smile on my face, just the happiest as I could be
Under the jail if I die in prison I know that is where they’ll bury me
When pencil meets paper, my hand lets out the real me
When I read, I travel to every place but Southeast

Dear Mom

By HW

I have to bring it up, remember what you told me?
You said, “Son go outside and play,”
And when I got scraped up you said, “everything would be OK.”

You told me life was like baseball, three strikes and I’m out.
You told me drive slow, but you never said, don’t take the fast route.
When I was young, I thought you knew everything,
Until I realized that death was a part of our reality.

Mom, it’s like the world’s against me, because I’m black.
I want kids, but I don’t want them to go through that.

Why do they hate us?
Why do they laugh?
It’s like you get your respect, when you get your cash.

Mom, what’s modern day slavery?
I thought slavery was dead.
So constitutions and amendments mean nothing, now that Lincoln is dead.
I’ll go read a book and find what they hid,
Because you told me, they been hiding things there, since I was a kid.