While Doing Time

By PM

A Kyrielle poem

While doing time, I found Free Minds
While doing time, I see I shine
While doing time, I learned to write
While doing time, my poems got tight

While doing time, I think outside
While doing time, I’m still inside
While doing time, I learned a lot
While doing time, we’re fed through slots

While doing time, became a man
While doing time, jail I can’t stand
While doing time, I met people
While doing time, I am see through

While doing time, I’m out of sight
While doing time, I have to fight
While doing time, only I see
While doing time, my mind is free!

I Really Do This

By BG

I love to write my thoughts with paper and ink
If only to get a response of what it is you think
When I want to, I lay down and write rhymes
In the form of poetry line after line
Sometimes it takes a minute or two
Others five, though it’s all true
That’s what I like most about it
It don’t take long at all to write it
Plus it’s therapy
All positive energy

Poem with a Verse

By AC

Let me take you to a place I like to go,
when I’m looking for some answers
to the many, many questions
about things that I don’t know.

There is no car that could take you on this road,
no shoes that could make your steps feel any lighter,
and there is no amount of magical concoctions
that could ease any of our pains
as we continue to march on.

We’ll have to travel East
until the East begins to blur
and slowly eliminates
any difference it can hold
in contrast with the West.

And we’ll continue on
until the North lifts up its arms,
becomes brothers with the South,
and respectfully embraces
in something resembling warmth.

When we get close to where we are going,
the clock will keep on ticking,
but its measurements will no longer mean a thing.
You can come and stay with me forever,
but there will be no one that could tell you
what forever really means.

At this place, the twilight lasts a little longer,
shining light on our ever-winding road
that ahead of us continues twisting
in contrast with how straight it may now seem
on the parts we’ve left behind.

We’ll need to find a way
to get off the road that we walk on
and get on to the trail
that will take us to the world that lies beyond.

When I get onto this trail, I always see a pond;
the dim light reveals shining silver water
that shows me the reflection of the person that I was,
the person I will be, and the person that I am.

On the horizon, I see mountains,
darkened by the distance,
hidden by the shadows
of all the things that are unknown,
unseen from where we are.

When the hypnotizing spell is broken
and I continue walking,
fireflies slowly begin to gather by,
lighting up for every thought and every idea
that proved way too elusive
to keep bottled in my mind.
Now they gently float on the warm breeze,
blessing me with light.

I keep walking until the ground is just no more,
until the water in the shining silver pond
begins to cascade off the side of this small world.
I sit down,
and I let my feet dangle off the edge
while I’m staring into space,
trying to figure out where the fireflies lights end,
and where the glowing lights from all those stars begin.

GOD, it’s all so beautiful out here.
You would think it would be cold,
but it feels so nice and warm.
The wind carries the familiar scents
of all the things I miss from home.

The starlights hit the water and then scatter,
shining light on to my face,
reminding me at once
of what I love about this place.

I check inside my pockets
for the things of value, I have brought.
Inside one of the pockets, I find a small, torn piece of paper
with a verse that I once wrote.
In the other, I have nothing,
and so I get the thought:
I am the richest man alive,
for I have nothing to distract me
from what really matters in this life.

And as I sit out here,
feet dangling on the edge of the whole world,
thanking whoever thought the earth was flat,
for I like to come here now
when nostalgia, loneliness, and sadness
take a hold of my poor soul.

I think about the stars,
and I feel their loneliness as well,
they spend their whole lives shining
in a place so far away.

I think about my loved ones,
I want to hug them,
I want to kiss them,
I want to tell them to their face
that I love them so very much,
every passing second of every single day.

I want to see the sparkles in their eyes,
I want to hear the glorious sounds,
of their laughter and their smiles.
I want all those things I love,
I want to live them once again.
I want all of those things,
all those things that give me strength.

Come, sit down with me.
Come, look at the stars with me, my friend.

 

About this poem: I just wanted to take the reader out on a field trip and bring him/her into my mind. Sorry for mess, I don’t usually have much company inside my head. I hope you guys enjoyed it. Good luck figuring out the symbolism.  

My Crack in the Wall

By KC

Every day I awake in an open grave
And leave my slab to walk among the tombs

Massive monuments built to mark bad decisions and love lost
Life and freedom shattered by time being watched over by men with guns

I am not alone, for thousands walk with me
A nation of the undesirables left to rot above ground

Who like crabs hold each other back from reaching peace of mind
They thrive in the misery of their fellow man and thirst for dominance

They think the title King Crab is an honor
Don’t they see? King of the damned is still damned himself

I am different from most here
I walk in the land of the dead focused on life

Time is harsh, but my dreams have never decayed
Stepping stones made from ink on paper keep me on track

Words from loved ones lost, now found, tell me
I am human not an animal, and to never lose myself

Do or die among the dead until you get to the living
And never let the flame of life burn out, it connects us

So, I walk among the tombs every day
Looking for that crack in the wall, that slither of light

Today I’ve found her, and her name is…
Well that doesn’t matter

What matters in the end, today’s a good day
And my crack in the wall has just gotten a little bigger

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