On the Same Page

By JA

When I read, I’m alive not dead

The words tell me so much I’ve read

On the page, I’ve met the other travelers

On the page, I’ve been to the favelas

On the page, I’ve felt heartbreak, elation, scorn

I read to learn, move on

When I read, I feel alive, not dread

When I read I know where to head

When I meet you on the page, I smile, nod head in acknowledgement

When I write I use plenty emotion

My words express whatever mood I’m in

I want you to understand my position, my thoughts

Hear me out let me in on this paper

My pen will talk

I write to tell you what’s inside

When I write, I feel, know I’m alive

When I write, you know my objections, you honor my war cries

When you meet me on the page, you also might smile

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